#tbh writing this reminded me of this to adjust in my own writing

[nullshocked]

I guess just to add based on personal experience:

The tension that comes when they're stressed and need a cigarette. Withdrawal makes you feel jittery and short tempered.

Sometimes their throat just feels like they've got a ton of mucus they can't cough up. They will find themselves randomly coughing a lot. It's generally a dry cough in my experience.

The urge to wash their hands a lot because that smell will cling. Same with showering. Especially if they simultaneously have sensory issues.

Trying to smoke too fast makes them lightheaded and like they need to sit down. Sometimes this is accompanied by nausea and tingling in their fingers.

If they're like me and have ADHD on to of all of this they WILL constantly forget their lighter at home and have to get another one while out and then suddenly they have ten half-used lighters scattered around the house.

Finding smoking areas in public varies, and depending on where they're from it may be easier or harder to find a place to light up.

Even if they smoke on the porch, the smell will follow them inside.

Your mileage may vary, but just little things I noticed. I was a pack a day smoker for about three years for context, so some of these experiences may be less so for someone who smokes less.

i love characters who smoke but i wish people would actually show the side effects of smoking affecting them. like depending on how much they smoke they should just go into a comically long coughing fit mid-sentence

[megistusdiary]

omg regarding your hybrid women post; i had the thought of reader being a hybrid too, so both parties also get in heat 🥰🥰

what ifーfox!reader and arctic fox!arle (youre probably tired of writing for arle LMAO) where reader gets in heat and tries to fuck with arle so shes like all teasing and degrading and shit 😅😅

that's what i like to see 😌

tbh i'm winning rn because my friends just told me how much i remind them of a fox today. basically, that means we belong together 😻😻 delusion is the solution

also, we never get tired of arle. i know this ask was from a few days ago, but since drip marketing was released, we are all UP!

fox!transfem arlecchino x fox!fem reader

dom!transfem fox-hybrid arle x sub!fem fox-hybrid reader

warnings: smut (mdni), transfem arle, wlw content, fox hybrids, fingering, penetration, mentions of heat/knotting, breeding kink

you had to admit, your lover's hands were one of your favorite parts of her. yes, her mind was beautiful, and so was her soul. but her hands were gorgeous.

clawed, as yours were, but hers were much more elegant. despite being quite large, her hands were rather dextrous.

her fingers were long and pretty. well-suited to wielding blades, playing the piano, holding a wine glass elegantly.

oh, and for stretching you out, obviously.

the way her fingers press deeper into you has your mind reeling. your brain is fuzzy already from hormones, and her touches send you into overdrive.

she can hear your claws tearing at her bedsheets, hips grinding into her hand. she uses her free hand to dig her claws into your hip, stilling you.

"someone's desperate," she comments softly, causing you to whine at her, unable to form any biting retorts. she tuts, fucking you faster with her fingers, eyes trained on the way you sucked her fingers in so well.

you were beyond drenched, slick dripping down her hand and ruining her expensive silk bedsheets. your ears were pinned back against your head, face pressed down into the bedsheets as you presented yourself to her on all fours.

she was entranced by how your hips and back arched so perfectly for her. oh, how enticing you were. just for her...

you kick your feet into the bedsheets, mumbling little pleas for her to fuck you. she leans down, her lips ghosting over the shell of your ear.

"you want my cock?" she asks, and you deliciously respond with pathetic little mewls. "shouldn't you feel ashamed at how you're behaving?" she sighs.

she nips at your neck, tutting. "look at you, ruining my sheets with how desperate you are. listen to yourself." she presses her fingers in shallowly, letting you hear the sounds of your own slick being pushed in and out.

she can feel the heat radiating off your neck as your ears flick wildly, tail hitting her side as it wiggles. she moves her hand to grip the base of your tail, biting the inside of her cheek when it causes you to cum all over her fingers.

she enjoys the mindless babbles that come along with your orgasms during your heat, how you destroy her sheets. it's all too intoxicating. she inhales the pheromones from the air, groaning as her cock strains against her pants.

the hand on your tail slides to cup over her bulge, her head falling back as you turn around, her fingers slipping out as you lean down, unzipping her pants.

once you remove her pants, her cock bobs up, allowing you to press a kiss to the sticky tip. she grunts, taking the base and smearing it across your lips to see them go glossy. "well aren't you just an eager little whore? i didn't tell you to turn around, did i?"

you quickly adjust yourself, tail swaying behind you excitedly as she grabs it, moving it away from your pussy as her cock swipes up and down your folds.

"you're going to take it all like a good girl, won't you?"

"yes, yes, please!" your voice is pathetic and whiny as she lines her cock up with your hole.

she slides in slowly, letting you feel her stretch you open as you pant into the silk beneath you. her grunts are little melodies of their own, clawed hands gripping your hips tightly as she eases her thick cock in and out of you.

her pace increases to the point where she's practically slamming you against the bed, your scent having triggered her own rut as she fucks like her life depends on it.

"you're going to have my fucking kits. i'll fill you up, doll. you're mine." she snaps, hips bruising yours as your slick coats her base with a creamy ring. her tail swings rapidly, ears flat against her head.

once she feels you cum around her, tightening up, she allows the inflated base of her cock to press into you, using the delirium from your orgasm to stretch you beyond your limits.

you whimper and whine beneath her as she cums inside of you, plugging you up with her knot.

despite the rough treatment, she soothes you quietly, leaning over you and pulling you to lay with her on your sides, kissing your cheek as she shallowly fucks you with the limited movement allowed by her knot.

[mischiefmaker615]

Relax

Summary: Hyper Y/N 

Rating: PG13

Requester: @Nina87230022 (wattpad) 

Note: This was originally requested to be Y/N having ADHD but tbh i don't know the condition enough to feel comfortable writing about it. it's not so much accuracy but i don't want to risk offending anyone who has it and i describe it wrong so the one shot had to be adjusted to "hyper" 

Loki’s fingers tightened against his book, gradually raising it closer to his face so it somehow heightened the chances of concentrating better. The sound of shoes passed by him for what felt like the hundredth time before it would then come back to go to opposite way. His brows furrowed and a low hum threatened to leave his lips while his patience drew closer and closer to withdrawing.

Finally, as soon as the sound of a chair could be heard being scrapped against the wood flooring, did he snap his book shut and he rose his eyes quickly towards the sound with a frown.

Low and behold you had found yourself balancing upon a chair, reaching as high as you could for the drapes that hung from the hook by the largest window in your bedroom. you finally opted to balancing on one foot- somehow thinking it would give you extra height before a frustrated exhale left your nostrils. ‘I need to go higher..-‘ you thought and as soon as your feet left the chair, you felt two strong arms wrap around your waist and catch you from probably falling onto the ground.

A chest was pressed against your back, your hands flying to the forearms of the being behind you before you felt yourself being turned and set on the ground with less than a delicate landing. Turning around, you rocked a guilty look while your dress flowed with your quick movement, seeming to match the faint red color in your boyfriend’s cheeks while he opted to hide his bothered state and look down at you.

‘’by Norns sake Y/N- what are you doing?” he asked, his voice hiding his frustration weakly while he clasped his hands behind his back.

You barely flexed a muscle to wave at your present activity but he quickly held a finger up to stop you and drew in a breath. ‘’with your words darling.’’ He reminded, a little gentler while you looked up at him with his careful eyes that were ready to capture your monologue.

‘’so I figured while you were reading I’d busy myself around our room cause I noticed the chambermaid didn’t put on the sheets straight so I just decided to strip the bed and do it myself but that made me realize sheets are for warmth and I was cold at that point so I went over to made the fire bigger and then fire made me think about light so I turned around to find the light of my life- you- and then figured you may not have enough light while you were reading so I was going to open the curtains more but then noticed how they don’t exactly match to well with the new colored sheets we got then we picked them out together so I was going to take them down and go hunt some new ones before you stopped me just now.’’ You rambled, putting together everything into words in one breath while Loki gave you the familiar stare where it had no expression but his mind was trying to figure out things as fast as you had spoken.

‘’..darling..’’ he began with a low tone, calm even but careful so you wouldn’t think he was bothered. ‘’first of all, don’t ever go up onto a piece of furniture and risk yourself falling. Second of all, we have maids that can fix all that with the mere ring of a bell or a holler. Third of all, we’ve talked about calming your mind and finishing one project at a time so you are not accidently left with several possibly unfinished ones.’’

‘’I know it’s just- I thought I’d have no problem doing it all this time.. i like the work-‘’

Loki gently scooped up both of your hands and placed a kiss on both, having to lean doing a little so he could look you in the eyes with love and patience. ‘’I know you do darling, but here we have our own responsibilities and the ones you’re used to on Midgard are already being taken care of.’’ He reasoned, knowing it was still an adjustment from having come from Midgard to Asgard and adjusting your independence but at the same time your wild mind tended to get the best of you.

‘’besides,’’ he added, wanting to cheer you up when he placed a hand on your stomach. ‘’if you are to carry one day, you must learn not to exhaust yourself.’’

Your cheeks heated up and you turned away with your hands covering your cheeks. ‘’don’t talk about stuff like that- we haven’t even-‘’

Two hands wrapped around your waist then, pulling you back so your back was up against his chest again with his lips pressing to your exposed neck ‘’perhaps it’s a good time to start, distract you from other things..’’ he smirked, his voice low and but a whisper which made you shiver.

‘’your mother is expecting us this afternoon- we haven’t got time and need to finis-‘’ your steps were interrupted by Loki once again picking you up from the ground, arms around your own to pin at your sides while your feet dangled. ‘’Loki!”

‘’you worry to much darling and need to relax yourself.’’ He told you, his voice a gentle warning while he buried his face in your hair to inhale your floral scent.

‘’..fine, I’ll leave it to the maids.’’ You sigh with mild frustration while you squirmed in his arms.

‘’relax darling.’’ He warned you again, his voice soothing in hopes it will help while you drew in a breath and fell limp.

‘’faking it darling will not work again, I will only end up catching you to start over, so relax.’’ He told you again with a chuckle while you sighed and tried one more time to squirm out of his arms.

His hold on you was firm, like always and was a battle you haven’t won yet nor you think you ever will. Drawing in a deep breath, you closed your eyes to calm your mind and pushed away any thoughts as best you could before you felt your body begin to loosen and untense. You felt your heart rate begin to slow down and your body slowly lowered so you could stand on your own while Loki kept his arms around you.

Allowing you to turn around to face him, you smiled up at your lover while he moved his hands to your hips, leaning down to brush his nose against yours. ‘’alright darling, I’ll fetch the maid to take over. Why don’t you sit with me for a few more minutes before we get ready to join mother?”

You beamed up at him while grasping his hand excitedly ‘’you could always read out loud until it’s time?”

Loki chuckled and let you pull him over to the couch, taking hold of his book again while you got yourself comfy on his lap and closed your eyes. No sooner did a second pass before you looked at him again while he searched for his previous page.

‘’while reading, have you ever thought about-‘’

‘’no darling. Reading is reading, everything else can wait until I choose to be done.’’ He said calmly, clearly in no rush while he settled back and pulling you closer into him.

‘’wish I had your ability..’’ you shrugged, not entirely sad about it while you rested your cheek against his chest.

‘’then who would keep me busy?” he teased, laughing once you swatted at his arm until it turned itself into a chasing match, Loki laughing while he moved himself between furniture, making you trail quickly to keep up and catch him.

‘’you can’t run forever’’ you tease while you debating jumping over the low table to get to him.

He merely smirked and spread his arms out to his sides while he waited for you to run around to him.

‘’I’m in no rush darling.’’

Tag List: @foxherder13 @asgards-princess-of-mischief @fire-in-her-veinz @nervouseden @kathren1sky-blog @eleniblue @lokiswife-dark-fox-queen @queenofstarsign85 @slytherinqueen4life

[captn-trex]

a half-hearted escape

Hunter x F!Reader

word count: 3.4k

description: in the heat of the moment, you have a bad idea that would help you evade capture, but you never expected the accidental half-confession it draws from Hunter

warnings: kissing to escape capture trope, swearing, miscommunication kinda? steamy kissing but nothing crazy just some wandering hands, kinda cheesy perhaps

a/n: shamelessly inspired by that new girl season 2 episode (you'll see). this is just a short and sweet one :) because the Fives one I'm writing rn is taking the life out of me lmao. tbh I can't believe this is only my second Hunter fic, I am a Hunter girlie after all. the title makes sense in my heart okay

masterlist | join my taglist

You were running, except there was nowhere else to run to anymore. It was a dead end.

“Fuck” Hunter breathed the word out heavily as he rested his back against the wall in the thin alley, looking this way and that, “What do we do?”

“You give the orders around here, you tell me” you replied in an exasperated huff, earning an unimpressed look.

“Well I'm taking suggestions” he growled, his voice low and irritated as he peered around the corner.

You glanced around the alley. There was really nothing to hide you, only some rubbish scattered about the ground, but leaving would guarantee your capture at this point. A thought entered your head and you let out a short whine at having even let it find it's way in.

“What? You have something?” Hunter asked, turning to find the reason for your sudden vocalisation.

“I have a really bad idea” you said, giving him an almost pained look.

“Well anything is better than nothing” he argued, which only made you laugh humourlessly.

“You're going to take that back in a minute” you told him, and he turned to you fully so you could see his frown.

“What are you—?”

“No time” you said in a panic, noting the patrol of stormtroopers about to pass by, “pick me up”

“What?” he hissed, his expression contorting into one of utter confusion.

“Just do it, quickly” you rolled your eyes and stepped up to him, hoping he'd follow your instruction. He hesitated for a moment, but hooked his hands under your thighs and you jumped into his hold.

“Right, now push me against the wall” you instructed.

“You've got to be kid—”

“Hunter” you snapped at him, “they're coming”

He groaned out of frustration, but obliged, stepping forwards and trapping your body between his and the wall.

“You happy now?” Hunter asked with a scowl, his breath hot as it fanned across your face.

“Ecstatic” you bit back, looking over his shoulder at the incoming stormtroopers. They were looking into every side street that they passed, their blasters held up as they inspected.

You reached up and slipped off Hunter's bandana, ruffling his hair so that it hung over his face. He let out a short grunt and fluttered his eyes closed as you did so.

“Was that really necessary?” he grumbled.

“Shut up” you replied, then wrapped your arms around his neck, hiding your own face as well.

You could hear the chatter of the stormtroopers as they passed by. They seemed not to want to disturb you, and you breathed out a relieved sigh. You continued to listen out for them, but it was hard not to become distracted by the intensity of Hunter's gaze as he opened his eyes and stared directly into yours from only a few inches away.

It struck you that you felt surprisingly comfortable in his arms, as if it were entirely normal to be in this situation.

“I can't believe this” he mumbled out, with a small shake of his head and a little humour in his voice.

“I did say it was a really bad idea” you reminded him, one side if your mouth curling into a small smirk.

Hunter scoffed, “I'm never trusting any of your ideas ever again”

You chuckled breathily, your head dropping forwards so that your forehead gently rested against his. He adjusted his hold on you, his hands gripping the top of your thighs, and you wrapped your legs around his waist to ease the load.

“You—”

“If you say I'm heavy, I swear to the maker I will punch you” you interjected. It wasn't uncommon that Hunter would taunt you, so you were only trying to pre-empt his teasing.

Hunter chuckled, a deep rumble that you could feel with him pressed up against you. “I was actually going to say that you smell good” he corrected in a murmur.

Oh. That certainly wasn't what you were expecting.

“Uh, thanks. I guess” you spoke awkwardly, your eyes flicking away from his.

Despite your uneasy reaction, you actually felt a sense of pride in the comment. Hunter had attuned senses, you knew that, so for him to say such a thing felt more meaningful to you than if anyone else had said the same thing. A strange feeling tugged at you chest and you could feel your face flush at the observation that felt oddly personal.

“Do you think they've passed us?” Hunter asked, and it brought you back to why you were in this situation to begin with.

“Right, uh…” you lifted your head and peered outside of the alley, not seeing any stormtroopers passing by, “Seems like it”

Hunter was about to let you down when you saw a flash of white plastoid come into view.

“Wait” you gripped him tighter, “fuck, they're coming this way”

Hunter huffed, “Well what do we do now?”

Your mind scrambled for something, anything to let you escape capture, and you were surprised by how quickly it brought forth your next bad idea.

“Kiss me”

“Wh—?”

“Just do it. It'll make them uncomfortable”

“Yeah, they won't be the only ones”

You rolled your eyes, “Hunter please, just get on with it”

“No”

“No?”

“No. I'm not doing it”

You cast a glance over his shoulder again and the stormtroopers were practically entering the alley.

“Hunter they're right on top of us, they'll know we're pretending”

“No they won't” He replied firmly, pressing his forehead into yours to hide your faces.

“Hunter just do it, you don't have to make it convincing even”

Hunter chuckled harshly at that, “That's not the problem. I'm just not doing it”

“Hunter, just kiss—”

“No. Not like this”

That gave you pause. The situation at hand completely slipped your mind.

“What?” your voice was small, nowhere near the amount of power it usually had behind it.

It was obvious that Hunter had said something he shouldn't have. His eyes were wide and his mouth hanging open, stuttering, looking for the words to explain himself. He tilted his head to look towards the end of the alley and there were stormtroopers looking in at the two of you. He turned back to you and the look of shock was still present on your face, trying to process what his earlier words truly meant.

“Oh, fuck it”

He latched his lips with yours, gripping the flesh of your thighs even tighter. He kissed you with fervour, and you couldn't tell how much of it was to make the stormtroopers leave you be. He pressed you into the wall further as his mouth worked against yours, lips moulding together in a way that could be interpreted as passionate, if you could sort out in your mind what was real and what wasn't. If he was doing this just to put on a show, you wanted to know what he’d do behind closed doors.

Wait, what?

Since when did you think such things about Hunter?

Any rationality in your thoughts left you when his hand slid up your body and he tugged you even closer, gripping your hip tightly. The other hand wound its way up to your neck, and he traced his thumb across your jawline, drawing a shudder from you.

By now, you were past caring if the kiss was just for show, you were enjoying it too much to pretend anymore. You tugged at the hair at the base of Hunter's scalp, pulling a deep groan from him that allowed you to deepen the kiss, slipping your tongue between his lips. The experience of exploring each other's mouths was intoxicating, the heady feeling somewhat close to that of being under the influence of spice. You couldn't get enough.

By the time you both pulled away, you had to take a moment to come back to your body, your breath falling from you in short pants. You blinked a few times, the haze lifting slowly, and found his grey eyes searching yours, his own breath just as heavy. You were passing air between you, still close enough that you could tilt your head and kiss him again. You almost did, before you remembered exactly why he had even kissed you to begin with.

You tilted your head to the side, resting it against Hunter's as you surveyed the situation.

“I think—” your breath was still heavy, and you had to pause to gather enough to speak, “I think they're gone”

The look on Hunter's face when you turned back to him was positively hurt, his brows drawn together as his lips turned downwards. You wished you could take back your words instantly, though you didn't know exactly what was going on. You'd need more time to figure that out.

Hunter dropped you to the floor, somewhat unceremoniously, and you braced yourself on the wall to stop from falling over. He went to the edge of the alley, glancing around the street that you had escaped from.

“You're right” he coughed out, “they're gone”

The tone of his voice tugged harshly at your heart. He was clearly trying to keep himself together for the sake of the mission, but it was undeniable by the quiver in his voice that he wasn't feeling completely sure of himself.

“Hunter” you called in a soft voice.

“What” he snapped back, his eyes finding yours.

You didn't know why he was suddenly acting like this, though you didn't know how else he was supposed to act after what just transpired. You didn't know how to act yourself.

“Nothing” You replied, shame burning at your cheeks as you looked down, “lead the way”

The journey back to the Marauder was excruciating. Neither of you spoke up, no matter how hard you tried to whip something up in your brain. There was nothing you could find to say that would fix the rift that had so clearly been created between you.

Even after you both climbed the steps of the ship, greetings being thrown at you by the other squad members, Hunter wouldn't look at you.

“Everything went smoothly I take it?” Tech asked, noting how both of you seemed to be unharmed.

The picture in front of Echo was entirely different to what Tech was seeing, apparently. He raised a brow at you when Hunter didn't reply, storming into the cockpit.

“Mhm, more or less” you answered the spectacled clone, then ducked away from Echo's watchful gaze, striding towards the bunks at the back of the ship.

You sat down on your bunk, running your hands through your hair, and that's when you realised you were still gripping tightly onto Hunter’s bandana.

“Kriff” you swore under your breath, standing once more and crossing the short distance to the bunk that belonged to owner of the scrap of fabric. You weren't going to give it back to him yourself, definitely not now.

You placed the red material down onto his pillow, taking a moment to run your thumb across the skull insignia before pulling away.

“Why do you have that?”

You jumped at the voice just behind you, and scowled before you turned around, knowing exactly how this conversation was going to go. Echo was impossible to lie to. He just somehow knew when you were lying, and you hated it.

“Hunter dropped it” you lied poorly, turning your face from the scrutinising honey eyes of your squadmate.

“He… dropped it?” Echo spoke suspiciously, clearly not believing a single word.

“Yep” you replied, dropping down onto your bunk again.

“So it just… fell off his head?” he asked.

You looked up to see his disbelieving look, a scoff naturally passing your lips.

“I'm not in the mood for this right now” you grumbled, which only made Echo's lips curve into a smirk, “and wipe that look off of your face”

“What look?” Echo questioned, his smirk only widening.

You rolled your eyes and laid down on your bunk, turning away from the infuriating clone. You heard him chuckle before the scuff of his boots against the floor signified his leaving, and you let out a long breath.

Your thoughts all muddled together with uncertainty. You hoped to bridge the gap between you and Hunter, but what if you couldn't? What if your stupid idea had done something irreparable?

The next few days were tense.

Everyone knew something had occurred between you and the Sergeant, but neither one of you would speak about it to the others, much less to each other.

It was agony. You found yourself sitting at the bar in Cid's parlour, watching him sulk across the room. You wanted to reach out, extend the olive branch, but you had no idea what to even say.

Sorry for holding you against your will and making you kiss me? Or I'm sorry I made you believe I actually had feelings for you?

You didn't know which was the correct sentiment, and you had been driving yourself mad trying to decipher his slip up from before you kissed. The words bounced around your brain, taunting you. Not like this. What did it mean?

Even more distressingly, it wasn't even the case that you had pretended to have feeling for him, not anymore at least.

You had always found Hunter attractive, how could you not after all, but this was uncharted territory. You never expected to actually feel anything for him in this sort of way. A sense of closeness, yes. A deep respect, definitely. But this — this ache in your chest as you looked upon his displeased expression — was something entirely new. It made you feel sick.

“Hey hot shot! Bandana! Get in here” the grating call came from Cid’s office, and you ground your teeth at the irritating nickname.

You slipped from your seat at the bar, glancing over in Hunter's direction. He stayed seated, twirling his vibroblade between his fingers and watching you walk across the room. Your gaze fell to his fingers flipping the knife about, and you had to pull your eyes away when your mind brought forth how enticing you found it.

“What is it?” you spoke harshly as you entered the office, little patience for the Trandoshan sat behind the desk.

“That's no way to talk to your employer” Cid chided as she stood from her seat, making her way around the desk to stand in front of you. You had to look down to meet her eyes, and it gave you a small bit of satisfaction. At least you could say you looked down on her, even if she was a pain in your ass.

“What is this about?” a gruff voice spoke up, and you eyes followed Hunter as he walked into the room and stood beside you at the desk.

Cid rolled her eyes, “You two are a right pair” she muttered as she walked towards the door, “I don't know what your problem is, but you two need to figure it out, because your foul attitudes are bringing down the mood around here”

You glanced up at Hunter, noting his grinding jaw and narrowed eyes.

“I'd rather n—”

“It wasn't a request, bandana” Cid held her hand up to stop him and stepped out of her office, “Now, please, get over yourselves and figure this out. Just don't do anything on my desk and you'll still be employed after this is over”

“After wha—?”

You question was answered when Cid pressed a button on the control panel and closed the door. You heard the lock engage, and cringed at the implication. You were locked in here with Hunter. The one person you were both avoiding and actively seeking attention from.

Hunter grumbled and strode over to the door, repeatedly prodding at the open button on the panel, with nothing to show for it.

You sighed, “There's no point”

Hunter turned to look at you, leaning his back against the door and crossing his arms across his chest. He looked at you down his nose, as if in disgust, and you couldn't help but feel small.

“We should probably talk… right?” you offered, and he grunted in reply.

“I'm listening”

You had been banking on him having something to say, but that was foolish of you. Of course he wasn't going to make it easy. Unfortunately, you didn't have anything to say either, so you just stood watching each other for a moment.

“Um, I—” you gulped, “I'm sorry?”

Hunter laughed, an unamused sound that made your stomach turn.

“What exactly are you sorry for?” he raised his eyebrows at you expectantly.

“Well I, uh…” your shoulders sagged, your posture defeated, “I don't know”

“Hm” he tilted his head a little as he looked down at you, “then I suppose your apology isn't accepted”

You huffed, giving him a frown, “come on man, give me something to work with here”

“What's that supposed to mean?” he asked, his face adorning it's own frown.

“What does ‘not like this’ mean?” you rebutted, your tone holding an exasperation.

Hunter pressed his mouth into a hard line as he looked away from you, “that's none of your business”

“I think its exactly my business actually,” you moved forwards, stepping into his space, “and I want to know”

He gave you a dubious look, his voice low, “why?”

“Because,” you rolled your eyes, “believe it or not, it matters what you think of me”

Hunter went to speak, then paused, a deep breath escaping him, “I think you know what it means”

You pressed your lips together, irritated that he couldn't just come out and say it, “Then… why won't you talk to me?”

“Because there's nothing to say” he looked away, and you could see his cheeks tinge pink, “can we just forget that it happened and move on?”

His obvious embarrassment almost made you laugh.

“And what if I don't want to?”

That got his attention.

“What?” he asked, his voice careful, measured, making sure he understood you.

“I don't want to forget that it happened” you reiterated.

“Why?”

You shook your head slightly. When was this man going to get the memo. A smile pulled at your lips and you stepped right in front of him.

“Because, Hunter…” your smile turned to a smirk, “maybe I want it to happen again”

Hunter's eyebrows raised as he looked down at you, and he pushed off of the door, uncrossing his arms and finally taking down his physical and mental barriers.

“You do?”

“Mhm” you replied in a lilting hum.

He didn't need to be told twice.

Hunter grabbed you by the hips, pulling your body flush against his, and his lips found yours shortly thereafter. He kissed you with a passion to rival that of the first one, but this time you knew it was real, that he really meant it. You couldn’t help but smile into the kiss, his change in attitude since your confession amusing you.

“Something funny?” he mumbled against you, not giving you a chance to answer before his lips were on yours again, pushing you backwards so your body hit the desk.

“Just you” you replied, a chuckle bubbling up and out of you as he huffed.

His lips trailed kisses along your jaw as he leaned down, his hands hooking underneath your thighs and lifting you easily to sit atop the desk. A small squeak left your lips at the unexpected action, and you could feel Hunter smirk against your neck as he parted your legs further and came to stand in between them. His nose brushed against a sensitive spot just behind your ear, and a shiver ran up your spine, a small gasp escaping your lips.

“Fuck, you smell so good” he mumbled between kisses to your collarbone, and the breathless tone and sentiment sent an unexpected thrill through you. You gently scraped your fingernails down the back of his neck, earning a groan in return, and he brought his lips back up to yours in a hurry.

You couldn’t get enough, and you would’ve taken more, had you not been so rudely interrupted.

“I said not to do anything on my desk!”

taglist: @darthnihila @cdblake1565

[rapilne]

Anime Club Membership | Soobin Au

#pairing: soobin x f!reader.

#genre: fluff | #w.c: ~4000+

#synopsis: soobin is in love but has an anime club membership and is convinced this is a problem

#notes: I started this a while ago and it was dying on my notes until I woke up at 3am and couldn't go back to sleep. it's kind of long a not a lot happens but I thought it was cute and it was fun writing it cause im in my soobin feelings era. tbh wanted to make it smutty but I tried once and I realized im horrible at it so it won't happen again. happy reading if you read it :p

Kai is currently struggling to figure out the ramyeon machine at this fancy new convenience store. It's way bigger and flashier than the usual spots they frequent, and the selection is overwhelming—thirty flavors of ramyeon, some he's never even heard of.

“Why are there so many buttons?” Kai whines, exaggeratedly pouting. “Making ramyeon shouldn’t be this complicated. Seriously, there are like a hundred different liquids you can get from this thing. Do you think this one’s for hot water? It’s got a steam drawing on it.”

“You’re the one making it complicated,” Beomgyu says lazily, reaching over and pressing a button. “You can always just push it and find out.”

“Wait—!”

Turns out the steam drawing stands for chai, actually.

Kai’s eyes widen in shock as he watches his ramyeon turn into a chai latte. Beomgyu bursts into laughter, unable to contain himself as he glances at Kai’s horrified expression. “Oh man, I’m so—”

“Tell him something, Soobin!” Kai pleads, desperate for backup.

Soobin, wide-eyed as he stares at the cup in Kai’s hand, opens his mouth, but before he can say anything, the cashier lady shushes them from behind the counter. Kai’s cheeks turn bright red with embarrassment.

“Sorry,” Kai apologizes sheepishly, flashing a lopsided grin that usually works like a charm on the ahjummas in his sister’s apartment building. But this time, he’s met with a blank stare.

Beomgyu struggles not to laugh again, covering his mouth, and Kai briefly considers finally punching him. Instead, he glares at Beomgyu and turns back to Soobin, whispering, “Hyuuung! Do something!”

“What’s he gonna do, exactly?” Beomgyu chuckles, taking the ramyeon cup from Kai’s hands. He sniffs it, scrunching his nose at the smell. It reminds him of that old Play-Doh his cousin dared him to eat when he was eleven. “He literally can’t take me in a fight,” he adds, casually tossing the cup into the trash.

Soobin scoffs, visibly offended, forgetting the ramyeon situation instantly. “I can so take you in a fight.”

“Nu-uh,” Beomgyu replies, sing-songing his words.

“Yeah-uh!”

“Nope.”

“I actually—”

“You know you still have to pay for that, right?” A sudden chilly voice behind them interrupts. They all jump, turning around to face the scary cashier lady. Beomgyu might have squealed a little.

“Yes, ma’am,” the three say in unison.

The lady throws them one last unimpressed look before turning back to the counter, mumbling something that makes Kai’s cheeks flush again.

“This is your fault, Beomgyu. You’re paying for it. After I beat you up,” Soobin says, trying to sound firm.

“Beat m—” Beomgyu laughs out loud, placing a hand on Soobin’s shoulder. “You mean just like how you beat me in LoL? Oh, wait—that never happened.”

“CHOI BEOMGYU, YOU KNOW DAMN WELL I WON THAT MATCH WITH MY—”

“Uh, hear that? It’s the sound of the crowd disagreeing,” Beomgyu interrupts, hand behind his ear, a mocking smirk on his face.

“Actually,” Kai lifts his index finger and then adjusts his imaginary glasses, “I’m the crowd, and I’m on Soobin’s side.” He swiftly interjects on the elder’s behalf, secretly he has his doubts, but he’s also defending his own cause. “Soobin, fight him.”

Soobin watches as Beomgyu lazily plops down onto a nearby chair, already looking bored. Leaning back, Beomgyu rests his head on his interlocked fingers, raising his eyebrows. With a cocky smirk and his tongue poking his cheek, he taunts, “Yeah, Soobie-boobie. Fight me.”

You’d think with Beomgyu sitting down and Soobin standing over him, the younger might feel a bit intimidated, but it’s Soobin who squirms, eyeing Beomgyu’s almost lazy expression. There’s something positively deranged about his look, Soobin thinks.

“Uh, well,” Soobin chuckles nervously, “You know what? I thought about it, and I’m not up for any fighting today. I, uh, recently joined this club where we discuss important stuff. You know, like social issues and, uh, philosophical debates.” He turns to Kai. “The morality of using force on weaker people is something we discussed, so…”

Beomgyu decides to ignore his last jab and straightens up. “Important stuff, huh?” he teases, unable to contain his amusement. “Sounds like code for ‘anime marathon with your nerd friends’ to me.”

It’s been almost a month since Jihoon, his former TA, discovered they share a passion for anime and manga. He invited Soobin to a ‘gathering’ where they discuss their favorite shows, debate the best characters, and organize screenings of new episodes. Beomgyu likes to call it the “ultimate hangout spot for anime nerds.”

“Well, I mean, we do discuss important themes in anime,” Soobin admits with a pout.

Kai chuckles, forgetting his ramyeon mishap. “Hey, nothing wrong with that,” he says, offering a supportive smile. “I also think anime is about important stuff.”

“Thank you, Kai,” Soobin says, dimples showing. “Seriously, it’s all really cool. Beomgyu wouldn’t understand the appeal. It’s not like he’s capable of thinking about anything serious for more than two seconds.”

Beomgyu feigns offense, standing up and placing a hand over his heart dramatically. “Hey now, I’ll have you know I’m a very serious person,” he protests, lips in a full pout, his tone dripping with mock seriousness. “I also understand it’s all very cool. So cool, in fact, that it’s the perfect topic to impress Y/N with, right?”

Soobin’s cheeks go red. He’s always been quick to blush, but this time it’s because Beomgyu’s words hit a nerve.

Ever since he first laid eyes on you in the introductory course, captivated by your pretty smile and blushed cheeks as you introduced yourself to the class, Soobin knew he was a goner. He’s never been one for crushes, not even in high school, so it’s as if fate saved all his affection for you. Looking back, Soobin realizes he’s never appreciated Beomgyu’s loud, extroverted personality more than when his friend boldly approached you to introduce himself—and Soobin too. (Did he already say thank you?) From that moment on, you became friends, and with each passing day, Soobin’s admiration for you only grew stronger.

“Yeah, right,” Soobin mumbles, trying to brush off Beomgyu’s teasing with a weak smile. “Guess that’s really gonna make her swoon.”

The memory of your comments some nights before he heard you exchange with one of your mutual friends about who you find especially attractive, plays in his mind, fueling his insecurities. “Dance majors I guess? Like Yeonjun. You guys are friends, right?” you had said.

Beomgyu sighs, sensing Soobin’s mood shift. “Ah, come on, Soob,” he says, bumping his shoulder gently, his tone softer now, realizing he might have gone too far. “You know I didn’t mean it. It’s not like Y/N’s going to judge you based on your anime club memberships.”

“It’s just one club,” he mumbles in a small voice when Kai chimes in. “He’s right, hyung!” Kai says, smiling brightly as he puts both hands on Soobin’s shoulders. “Besides, who knows? Maybe she didn’t really mean anything by it! Like, I think Soyeon is really hot, right? But I have no interest in actually going for it. She’s scary. So, maybe what Y/N’s really into is people like you!”

Soobin can’t help but let out a nervous laugh at his friend’s attempt to reassure him. “Right, Kai.”

Beomgyu then claps loudly, making Soobin jump. “That’s it, then! No more pouting from you, Mr. Naruto Pokémon,” he says with a grin, making Soobin scoff. “And Kai, I’m sorry about your food. I promise we’ll come back with Taehyun tomorrow to figure this bad boy out. Now let’s get you some tteokbokki from Mr. Kim’s shop,” he adds with a reassuring nod, dragging his friends out of the fancy convenience store.

As the three of them strut out, with Beomgyu complaining nonstop about paying for something he didn’t even eat, Soobin can’t help but overthink—it’s what he does best, after all. People like him, Kai said. No one has ever called him hot. Cute, sure. Sweet, even. And yeah, he knows he’s good-looking—people have told him as much—but he’s also convinced that people like him can’t compete with the Yeonjuns of the world, with their style, dance skills, and effortless coolness. Can he ever be like that?

Deep down, he knows his friends are right. He knows you’re not the type to judge someone for liking anime or joining clubs. But the weight of his feelings for you, combined with the pressure he puts on himself, makes him doubt his worth every time. He’s got to figure out how to be okay with who he is and hope that’s enough for you to notice him—really notice him.

With loud thoughts in his head he kicks a tiny rock, chis foot catches on a crack in the pavement. He trips, and for a split second, he sees the ground rushing toward him.

He looks around and sighs realizing no one notice, but walking along the sidewalk, as he watches kai animatedly explain demon slayer’s plot to a bored looking beomgyu, the nagging doubt keeps lingering in the back of his mind telling him that the gap between friendship to something more is as big as… well, as big as the difference between Tanjiro and a low-level demon, he supposes.

---

The surge of excitement pulses through you as you finally find yourself at the Seventeen concert, a dream come true made possible by Soobin’s miraculous ticket acquisition. You shoot him a grateful look, your smile stretching wider than ever, and Soobin mirrors it, glowing with the same enthusiasm. “I can’t believe we made it!” you shout over the music. “You’re seriously the best ever, Soobin!”

Your entire being radiates with happiness as you look at the stage with wide eyes, hands reaching up and a grin that refuses to fade as you scream the lyrics to a song he vaguely remembers hearing once. He’s always been more of a girl group stan.

Then, as if drawn back to reality, your attention returns to Soobin. “Oh my god, I still can’t wrap my head around how you got these tickets! They were gone in seconds!” you shout to be heard over the music, but Soobin hears you just fine.

“Well, you know how it goes,” Soobin leans closer with a tiny smirk. “The perks of being multi-talented, well-connected, universally adored…” he quips, though the reality of getting those tickets was far less glamorous. His older sister works for a big-shot media company and managed to snag these tickets. He owes her a thousand favors. But for you, it’s worth it, he thinks.

You chuckle. “Always humble, I see.”

“Always…”

“No, seriously,” your tone shifts, “this means the world to me. Thank you, Binnie.” Your sparkling eyes focused on him, and your sincere words send a hint of color to Soobin’s cheeks, subtle and noticeable to only him.

“Enough with that,” Soobin whispers, trying to keep the moment light. “You’ve already thanked me like a hundred times over. You know I would do anything for you.”

Did he—did he really just say that? Was that too intense? Do you now think he’s too intense?

Before he can start overthinking, your radiant smile washes over him once more, and he feels a weight lift from his shoulders. 

“What you need to do now is enjoy the concert,” he says, trying to change the topic. “Or you’ll blink, and it’ll be over.”

“YOU’RE THE BEST!” you yell once again, jumping in place before pointing at the stage. “Look, look! The performance team! I’d miss my own wedding before I miss this. Have you seen Hoshi tonight? He’s so hot, I swear to god…”

He’s well aware of your fondness for the K-pop group’s performance team, particularly Hoshi. You’ve made it clear enough, and Soobin has never given it much thought.

As the concert pulses around him and he watches you scream your lungs out for the dancers in front of you, Soobin’s mind begins to wander, connecting dots he never realized were there. Taemin, Kai, Momo, —your list of biases reads like a who’s who of dancers. He remembers your comments about dance majors like that kid Hyunjin and his own friend Yeonjun. And now, here you are, gushing about Hoshi and the entire performance team with stars in your eyes. He’s never, ever seen you like this.

As the gears in his mind whirl, he reaches for his phone, opening a familiar chat without hesitation.

---

The concert ended about two hours ago, and Soobin is currently looking down at his phone in the stall of the bathroom at the only Thai place opened at this hour. He’s having the best time of his life with you, and it suddenly came to him that he must do everything in his power to get you. Hence why he scrolls until he finds the familiar name. He’s positive he’s never pressed a button faster.

And he is a fast button presser, if you ask him.

“Hey Soob, sorry I didn’t call, just saw your text and—” the line answers after a few rings.

“Teach me how to dance,” he urges as soon as he hears Yeonjun’s voice.

“Hey Yeonjun, how are you? Just peachy, thank you! What about you, my good friend? I’m pretty great too, actually, just happy to say hi to—”

“Hyung!” Soobin interrupts with a yell. “This is a life-or-death situation! No time for this!”

“No time to even say hello? After everything we’ve been through?” Yeonjun’s joke echoes a bit. “By the way, I just put you on speaker, and Tae’s here.”

“I don’t—”

“Why did you just do that?” Taehyun’s voice interrupts Soobin’s from his own side of the phone.

“Did wha—?” Soobin starts, but gets cut off once again. He realizes he’s not talking to him at all as he hears a conversation between his two friends on the other line.

“Why did I do what, Tae?” He hears Yeonjun ask.

“You just let him know I’m on speaker as if you’re warning him.”

“What? What I would warn him about?”

“Exactly!” Soobin hears his friends bicker. “I don’t know what you two don’t want to talk about while I’m here.”

“Are you serious? Taehyunnie, is this what I’m thinking? Because jealousy is not a cute look on you.” Yeonjun laughs. “Well, you know what? It might be—”

“STOP!” Soobin yells into the phone. “If someone needs to be warned about something, it’s me about your flirting.”

“We are not flirting!” Taehyun yells on the line. “Actually, you should be the one who’s flirting. Aren’t you on a date with Y/N right now? Why are you on the phone?”

“It is not a—well, I never specifically said the word date when I asked her to—you know what? It doesn’t matter! What matters is that there’s an emergency!”

“An emergency?” Yeonjun’s voice now sounds closer. “Hyung, what’s going on? Are you okay?” Taehyun continues.

“Yes! An emergency! That’s literally the first thing I said!”

“You never—”

“And no! I’m not okay! I’m the protagonist of a tragedy, and the plot twist? I’m not just ‘not okay’—I’m the complete opposite, like if ‘okay’ ran away and left me stranded in a dumpster fire of chaos.”

“Uh-huh,” Taehyun hums, catching on to Soobin’s melodrama. “If I recall, the very first thing you said was rudely demanding Yeonjun dance lessons. Honestly, Hyung, I don’t know why we keep falling for this kid’s theatrics.” Soobin groans as hears Yeonjun’s light laugh in response, followed by a quiet, ‘you’re right.’ “And seriously, why do you even want to learn to dance? Didn’t you have a strict ‘no dancing’ policy?”

“Well, that is why it’s an emergency. Like I said, a life-or-death situation. I need to revoke this policy and become the best dancer there is.”

“You’re kidding.”

“I don’t know how else to tell you how serious I am. Life or death, Yeonjun!”

“Stop saying that! You’re not dying. Well talk about it later, JUST GET BACK TO HER”

—

Soobin’s mind races as he walks you back to your place after the dinner. He’s hyper-aware of every step, every word that comes out of his mouth. It’s like his brain is stuck replaying moments from the concert, analyzing every little thing you said or did. 

“I still can’t believe how close we were to the stage,” you say, your voice tingling with leftover concert adrenaline. “Did you see the way they moved? Hoshi is unreal!”

There it is again. Hoshi. The name has become a ghost haunting Soobin’s thoughts, a reminder that he’s no dancer. He’s no Hoshi. But then you look at him with that smile, the one that makes his heart do a weird flip, and he almost convinces himself that you might feel the same way. Almost.

“Yeah, he’s pretty good,” Soobin replies, trying to sound casual, but his voice comes out a little too high-pitched, a little too forced.

You glance at him, eyebrows raised in amusement. “Pretty good? Soob, he’s like, one of the best dancers out there!”

He completely understands you’re being a fan and freaking out about seeing your favorite artists — just one week earlier he was crying at the mere sight of KARA performing in front of him (he tells everyone he’s a casual listener. Soobin has never been casual about a single thing in his life.)— but he can’t help but run his mouth.

“Yeah, yeah, I mean… sure. He’s great,” Soobin stammers, “But, you know, dancing isn’t everything.”

You stop walking and turn to face him, your expression shifting to something more serious. Soobin’s heart sinks and he’s two second from permanently loosing it, really.

Why did he say that? What did it have to do with anything? You’re going to think he’s crazy, worse, you’re going to tell him that you wish he were more like Hoshi, more like Yeonjun, that you need someone who can dance and—

“No, you’re right. Dancing isn’t everything,” you say softly, taking a step closer to him. “Soobin.. I..I just wanted to tell you that didn’t come to the concert just for Hoshi or the performance team or the group. I came because I wanted to be there with you.”

His heart skips a beat, and for a moment, hope flares up inside him. But then the little annoying-world ruiner- voice in his head creeps back in. Do you know? Oh my god, you must know he likes you and the stupid ass voice keeps whispering that maybe you’re just being polite, just trying not to hurt his feelings. He’s Soobin, your cute, sweet old friend who’s always there, but never the one you’re actually interested in. 

You chuckle, a light, airy sound that sends a shiver down his spine. “I mean, sure, I appreciate good dancing. But you’re right, you know?”

He thinks that if he opens his mouth nothing good will come out of it, so he just nods and hs mind runs back on his earlier conversation with Yeonjun and Taehyun. The dance lessons. That is it— when learns to dance, he can finally be the kind of guy you’d notice, the kind of guy you’d actually want.

You continue walking, and he falls into step beside you, his body catching up before his brain.

You glance at him out of the corner of your eye, wondering why he seems so distant all of a sudden. 

“Soob,” you start, trying to break through whatever wall he’s put up, “did you have fun tonight?”

“Huh? Oh, yeah! Definitely. It was awesome,” he replies, but even he sounds weird to his own ears. He’s trying hard not to ruin a perfect night more than he already did but at this point he’ll hold a grudge against himself for the rest of his life.

You stop again, this time taking his hand in yours to make him look at you. The warmth brings him back to reality, and he stares at you, wide-eyed and confused.

“Are you sure?” you ask, searching his face for any sign of what’s bothering him.

He opens his mouth to say something, but the words get stuck in his throat. You’re so so close, so so beautiful and all he can think about is how much he wants to kiss you, but he’s convinced you don’t feel the same way. So, instead, he just nods, giving you a small, strained smile. 

You sigh, dropping his hand, and for a split second, he wonders if he really did ruined everything. He might as well just dig a whole and crawl inside it, but you start walking again and he follows.

“Okay, but if something’s bothering you, you know you can tell me, right?” you say, trying to keep your tone light, even though you’re a little frustrated that he won’t open up.

“Yeah, I know,” Soobin mumbles. Once again kicking himself mentally for not being able to just say what’s on his mind and be a normal person.

The rest of the walk is filled with a comfortable silence, but it’s the kind that makes Soobin’s thoughts race even faster. He’s so wrapped up in his own head that he doesn’t notice the way you keep glancing at him, trying to figure out what’s going on.

When you finally reach your door, you turn to him, your heart pounding in your chest. It looks like you want to say something and he hopes is not a revelation that you actually hate him for ruining a perfect night, but all that comes out is a soft, “Goodnight, Soobin. Thank you for everything. It was the best night ever.” 

“Goodnight, Y/N, im really glad” he replies, his voice barely above a whisper.

You hesitate for a moment, then lean in to kiss his cheek. 

“Sweet dreams,” you say with a smile, before disappearing inside.

Soobin stands there, staring at the closed door, mind all fuzzy. He takes a deep breath, trying to calm down, but it’s no use. His critical thinking skills went away with you so he doesn’t know what to think other than to become the best dancer you’ve ever seen. Because he’s that dumb and because maybe, just maybe, if he does, you’ll look at him the way you looked at Hoshi tonight.

----

Somehow Soobin didn’t make you not want to see him ever again so, the next day, you two are back at your place, ready to binge-watch this new drama Soobin’s been waiting to start since Beomgyu said it was the best thing he ever saw, but he’s having real trouble focusing on the screen. Every laugh, every breath, every time you shift closer, sends his heart racing.

You, on the other hand, are trying your best to get his attention. The way Soobin’s been acting lately is nothing less than confusing. One moment he's making dad jokes and making you laugh till your sides hurt, the next, he's lost in thought, as if he’s not even there. 

Halfway through the episode, you stretch your arms above your head, letting out a dramatic yawn as you lean into Soobin’s side, your body brushing against his making his pulse quicken.

Soobin freezes, his eyes widening. "You okay?"

"Yeah," you murmur, nuzzling closer, "Just comfy. Is that alright?"

His heart pounds in his chest. "YEah! Comfy is… good."

“Good.”

A tense silence comes between you two and you can faintly feel the TV in the background, but neither of you really hears it. You’re so close now that Soobin can feel your breath on his neck and he feel to himself that he needs to stop acting like a fourteen year old being alone with a girl for the first time now. He’s convinced this is the moment where you’ll feel how fast his heart’s beating and realize how hopelessly in love he is with you and then you’ll freak out and it’ll all be over and-

“You’ve been acting weird lately,” you say, “Is everything alright?”

Soobin nearly chokes on his own tongue. “Me? Weird? Nope not at all! I’m—uh—totally normal. Just…normal Soobin... behavior.” He clears his throat, trying to play it cool, making you scoff a little.

You raise an eyebrow. “Normal, huh?” You shift even closer, your hand brushing his thigh. Soobin tenses, heat rushing to his face. “Because you’ve been acting like there’s something's going on. Something you’re not telling me.”

“I—” Soobin starts, but you cut him off by placing your hand over his, your fingers lacing together. The simple gesture makes him shiver all over, and suddenly, word vomit is coming out out of his mouth before he can stop them. “You’ve been talking a lot about dancers lately.”

“Dancers?” you repeat, genuinely puzzled.

“Yeah, like Hoshi, and Taemin, and—and Yeonjun,” he says, the last name coming out quieter, almost like he’s embarrassed. But he already started and he’s not sure he can come back from that and from the confused look on your face, he’s sure he can’t sink any lower. So he goes for it… as much as he can, anyway. 

“I just thought—well, I thought maybe you liked them. Like, really liked them. And I’m not, you know, a dancer. So I thought…maybe I should.. that you don’t…”

Your eyes widen in surprise, and then you burst out laughing. Not the reaction Soobin was expecting. “You think I don’t like you because you’re not a dancer?” you manage to say between giggles. “Soobin, that’s-- no! That's ridiculous!”

Soobin’s face turns bright red, and he pulls his hand away turning towards you completely “It’s not ridiculous,” he mutters, pouting slightly. “And it’s not just that, it’s about the whole vibe I bring to the function! I just… I’m trying to be someone you’d actually like.”

You scoot closer, closing the gap he just created. “Soobin, I already like you. A lot. And not because of some dumb reason like dancing. I like you, Soobin.”

Soobin blinks, completely caught off guard. “You…like me? Despite… everything?”

“No, Soobin. I don’t like you despite everything you are, I do exactly because of it. I like pretty much everything about you.”

“Rea…lly? Even the fact that I… have an… anime club membership?”

You roll your eyes playfully, your hand finding its way back to his thigh, your fingers trailing up his inner leg. “Yes, Soobin, I like that too. Honestly, I’ve been trying to get you to notice for weeks now, but you’ve been so oblivious! I was starting to think I’d have to spell it out for you.”

“Well, you kinda do,” he says, still processing your words. “Because I’m clearly not the brightest when it comes to this stuff.”

You grin, your eyes glinting with mischief. “Well, then. How about I show you instead?” You lean in, your lips brushing against his ear as you whisper, “Would that help you understand?”

Soobin’s breath hitches, and he nods slowly. He thinks he might explode any second now. Is this really how he wants to die?

You move to straddle his lap, your hands resting on his shoulders as you look down at him with a playful smile, and the answer is yes.

He stares up at you, his hands hesitating at your waist, not quite believing this is real. “Are you…are you sure?” he asks, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Positive,” you murmur, your lips inching closer to his. “I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.”

And just like that, you kiss Soobin.

He melts right into it and his brain registers it so, so slowly, and once it hits him that you are kissing him, — that he is kissing you,— his arms wrapping around you as he finally lets himself believe that this is real.

As the kiss deepens, you pull back slightly, your forehead resting against his as you both catch your breath. “So,” you whisper, your fingers tracing small circles on his chest, “are you finally convinced?”

Soobin grins, his dimples on full display and his mind full of you. “Yeah,” he says, his voice filled with awe. “I think I am.”

You smile back, leaning in for another kiss, but this time, Soobin surprises you by pulling you even closer, his lips moving against yours with a newfound confidence. The kiss turns more intense, your hands tangling in his hair as his grip on your waist tightens.

When you finally break apart, both of you are breathless, faces flushed with excitement. Soobin looks up at you, “I can’t believe this is finally happening.”

“Believe it,” you say, brushing a strand of hair away from his forehead. “Because I’m not going anywhere.”

Soobin’s breath is intense, his body reacting  to your proximity and your voice.His hands roam up to your back, fingers pressing into your skin as he pulls you even closer, the heat between you growing almost unbearable.

You slide your body against his, your hips grinding slowly, deliberately, as your lips meet his once more in a passionate, fervent kiss. Soobin’s hands grip your hips, guiding you against him with a need that matches your own.

And as for the dance lessons? Well, Soobin might still take Yeonjun up on that offer—if only to keep up with your pace.

[everythingdenied]

showers-matty healy

a/n: this could be the longest authors note ever because my moral compass is still fighting for its life regarding whether i should be posting this or not. but imma spare you all of that because my writing is supposed to be escapism so pls ignore that me & the boyf are fighting irl rn and enjoy me being a whore mwah. i feel like im rly holding back on how slutty things can get cause im too scared to be too specific in my smut but...we shall see xxx

warnings: overall filthy smut warning tbh, fem!reader, me not proofreading oops wc: 1,727

A satisfied sigh fell from my lips as I stepped into the shower, sliding the glass door shut. The water was scalding but, after the day I'd had, it's heat felt somewhat cathartic and I didn't bothered adjusting the temperature, instead standing content beneath the warm stream.

The dull ache in my muscles slowly ebbed away and I let my eyes fall shut, listening to the perfectly monotonous trickle of water against the cool tile floor. I hummed gladly, my hand almost instinctively falling to cup my breasts, kneading them in a somewhat fruitless attempt at alleviating the stress of a long day at work.

I knew my own touch could never compare to his and, oftentimes, pursuing my undo without him there was futile. However, he was at the studio for the foreseeable and I needed some sort of release now; my fingers and the shower head were going to have to suffice for the time being.

Inhaling sharply, I rolled my nipples between the pads of my fingers, head falling back against the tile wall behind me. The water cascaded down my naked body like morning sunlight and I traced the droplets, right hand dipping lower to the centre of my arousal with a shaky moan. I felt my body loosen as I slowly circled my clit, the familiar sensation only reminding me of him. How he'd touched me exactly like this on the studio couch last night, barely waiting for George to leave before his eager hands were pulling at the waistband of my joggers.

Unfulfilled, I hastened my pace, fingers working desperately to bring me to some sort of climax. His name slipped through my parted lips in a slew of low whimpers, echoing around the small room, and I twitched with needy anticipation, a familiar warmth settling in my abdomen. I was completely caught up in the feeling, so focused on my own pleasure that I hadn't heard Matty return home early, nor had I noticed him enter the bathroom.

“You called?”

Snapping my eyes open, I gasped, hands jerking away from my pussy as if they'd just touched a hot stove. Empty, unsatisfied and wracked with adrenaline, I looked in the direction of the voice, finding my boyfriend leaning in the doorway of the bathroom, amused.

"Shit, Matty" I breathed out through a nervous chuckle, hands clasped against my thumping chest. "You scared the life out of me."

He smirked, eyes dragging over my naked, glistening body as he pushed himself away from the doorframe, hands deep in the pockets of his dress pants.

"I did knock, but..." Matty gestured in my general direction and I blushed, averting my gaze elsewhere. A silence settled over the room, save for the flow of water, and I stood, nude and vulnerable as my boyfriend watched me wriggle in discomfort, the embarrassment of being caught only heightening my burning arousal. Detecting the yearning thick in the air, Matty strode closer, sliding the shower door open. Hot steam spilled into the room. "Need help?"

I pursed my lips, somewhat abashed, and nodded, watching as Matty wasted no time in undoing his shirt. Soon free of his clothes, my boyfriend joined me beneath the water, toned abs flexing as he hissed at its searing temperature. He snaked an arm around my waist, pulling me close to his body so that the two of us stood pressed up chest to chest, warm water beading off our bare backs and eyes boring into each others. 

"Greedy girl" Matty tittered lowly, carefully lifting my jaw with two fingers. I only blinked up at him, pupils blown wide with lust. "Couldn't even wait till I got home, ay?"

He drew me closer, his hard on throbbing against my core, a stark reminder of how painfully empty I was. I whimpered, wordless under his touch, and he watched, his thumb grazing my bottom lip. Jutting my hips forward, I slowly rolled them against his bare crotch, feeling him harden.

"Mph, please, Matt..." I practically begged for his touch; for him to do something, anything. But, too stubborn to give in easy, he only shook his head, hands carding through my dampened locks.

"Not so fast, love" he hummed, his tone laced with an almost sadistic amusement as his hand, which was previously gripping my jaw, travelled slowly to my breasts. "Wanna take my time with you..."

I frowned, feeling as if I was soon going to implode if I didn't come in the next few minutes. Had it been any other day, I would have basked in the prospect of Matty's endless teasing, enjoying the rare occasions when he'd take his sweet time with me instead of bringing me to orgasm in a flurry of fervent movements. However, today had been long and stressful and my body yearned for release, not twenty minutes of merciless edging.

"Baby..." I groaned as Matty moved at a snails pace, head dipped as he softly kissed stray droplets from my collarbone, one hand cupping my right breast. He hummed in acknowledgment but said nothing, rough tongue now brushing past my puckered nipples. "W-want you."

"And you'll have me." He breathed, fingers dancing across my neck as the both of us stood beneath the warm spray. "S'called patience, beautiful."

"Don't wanna be patient" I whined and my boyfriend chuckled lowly, his ego likely inflating tenfold with each desperate plea I made.

Focusing his attention on my tits for a little while, I found myself becoming more and more worked up, barely able to contain myself when he moved a hand down to cup my pussy. It ached to be touched and, taking pity on me, Matty did just that, slipping two fingers inside, coating them in my arousal. I let out a strangled gasp, feeling him pump his fingers in and out of me, his pace leisurely.

"Shit, Love" Matty smirked, slowly adding a third finger, stretching out my desperate pussy. "You're dripping. You been wanting me all day?"

I nodded, rocking my hips along in time with his movements, feeling my body prickle with goosebumps despite the burning hot water trickling down my back. Fearing I'd only sound pathetic if I tried to speak, I said nothing, instead focusing on the way his fingers curled deep inside me, noting the familiar callouses.

"Needy little thing." He rasped and, even with my head in the crook of his neck and my eyes shut tight, I could hear the egoic sneer in his voice as he brought me closer to release. His movements became more hasty and, despite his vow to 'take his time' with me, I soon found myself empty, being pressed up against the steamy glass door, my hand wrapped around the base of his cock as I pumped him sloppily. He groaned, throaty and visceral, and grabbed the back of my thighs, thumbs digging into my soft flesh. "Jump f'me."

Not one to argue, I did what was asked of me, allowing Matty to lift me, back against the glass and legs wrapped around his torso. The position was somewhat awkward and I couldn't help but giggle at the impracticality of it all, arms draping around my partner's neck in a feeble attempt at keeping myself steady.

"I'm definitely gonna fall on my arse like this, Matty."

Matty only laughed and shook his head, swallowing my laughter with a kiss, his damp curls sticking to his forehead. "Nah, i've got you, gorgeous" He hummed against my lips, keeping a surprisingly firm grip on my ass. "You're alright."

Giving me a moment to adjust to the position, Matty teased my entrance, his cock throbbing against my needy cunt as he let me take an inch or two. He watched with lusty intent, mouth slightly agape as he slowly but surely filled me, our bodies fitting together like puzzle pieces. He was closer than ever, radiating sex and warmth, his breath fanning my cheek as he inhaled the scent of my peach shampoo.

It was intimate sex. Desperate, but intimate. Matty's thrusts were somewhat careful, making sure to hit every single one of my sweet spots as if he had something to prove. His lips roamed my every inch of skin, sucking bright purple hickies onto my neck as his length slid in and out of me, the room echoing with the filthy sound of skin against skin. I moaned softly, head falling into the crook of his neck

"I know, baby. I know. Better than your fuckin' hand, yeah?" Matty cooed, his tone syrupy as he rutted into me with great depravity. "Bet your hand can't even reach half the places I do."

Of course it couldn't and he knew it. Nor could my hands have me on the very cusp of white hot pleasure in a matter of minutes, backed up against the shower wall, begging for them to let me cum.

"Sound so pretty when you beg, love" He mumbled, words slurring together in pleasure. He was getting close too, I could tell. His thrusts were growing messy and lacked rhythm and he practically choked on his words. "Such a good girl. Who makes you cum like this, huh?" "Y-you do. Only you."

His name fell from my lips, each syllable feeding his ego as he brought me closer and closer to the edge, only allowing me to let go when he neared his own undo, mumbling every curse word under the sun. I clenched around him, growing full with his release as it coated my insides, warm and plenty, dribbling down my thighs.

He was right. My hand's couldn't do that. Nor could they lovingly pull me close in a post-sex haze, siting down with me beneath the warm spray of the shower head, skin to skin, recovering. They couldn't love me or draw me to their chest and, with lidded eyes and a droopy smile, press a kiss to my forehead.

“Better than having a wank?” Matty teased, breathing laboured. I said nothing, rolling my eyes as my head fell to his shoulder. “Could have called me. Y'know I'll always drop everything f'your pussy."

"Didn't wanna bother you in the studio." I mumbled and Matty chuckled lowly, pulling me closer beneath the now somewhat tepid water.

"Oh yeah, cause getting to fuck my missus in the shower is such a bother." 

[vermillioncrown]

This is going to be a huge post because you've picked up so much of what we put down I'm just 🥰🥹

@sunshinerotting replied to your post “(@rozaceous) dpnf ch 11: housebroken”:

will be rereading immediately but i love your guys’ characters very much and the way you write the canon characters makes so much sense. the way the people in that house interact with each other is so interesting to me because if tim was actually the normal boy he thinks he is the entire balance would be thrown off. no one else could’ve done what he does in that dynamic. they’re like a jigsaw puzzle to me. i have more thoughts give me a sec

thank you so much! roz and i keep joking that this fic is now an au of an au of an au of an au... and on and on, and then it's like. what makes this still a fic and not a fully original setting and work? we had to sell readers on a lot, that these characters (outside of our SIs) were still some flavor of canon. especially, "who is the core of tim drake?" and yeah, he's so not fucking normal. but he's not obviously wacky, either.

​out of order now i don’t remember chapter numbers: when jason showed up like a huge asshole i texted my friend about it. very much “he WOULD fucking do that but by god is it PISSING ME OFF” and it was!! love that genuinely. might not be what was intended but i do think he IS odd and sad and unable to move through the cycle of grief fully enough to show back up like a haunting and not expect it to get to allie like that. zero ability to understand how loved he is. 10/10 more...

GAH to know you texted abt our fic!!!! 🥹🥹🥹 best praise tbh. and the second sell: how is jason an asshole but worth rooting for later? or at least, allowed into the enclosure lol. we might not have had it summarized as neatly as you did, but roz and i are in full agreement you Read jason here. that's exactly what we wanted, that's so much of what we take from his character in various canons.

allie reminds me of a bobcat which feels weird to say but she’s so nonthreatening outwardly and she minds her business but the second someone steps in on her people it’s like Oh. oh right. teeth and claws. when jason showed back up i felt so much for her. there was no way for her to move. korvin acts in ways similar to me, which i will examine on my own time and not in your comments. i do love how everyone in this house has their own preferred flavor of Avoidance

you also have such a read on allie, i love it. i'll leave her to roz but i'll say my piece that i sometimes get bummed that korvin's so obviously wacky + a lot of gender stuff at play (the audience/demographic of ff readers, we live in a society and all that) that make more ppl focus on korvin over allie whereas they're both equally wack. and korvin's behavior makes the most sense when taken as a convoluted male re-socialization of someone initially female-socialized but rewarded in a male-dominated space. AND both of them are AuDHD, word of god putting that out there. add on the isekai brainworms, and yeah, isekai is just an extended analogy for masking → hence the different flavors of avoidance

tim is somehow the most well-adjusted in this regard, before jason shows up maybe, and thats so crazy. tim drake. Tim Drake ????comparatively well-adjusted to anyone ??? i know i’m forgetting something so i’ll come back but writing that down genuinely through me off a little bit. lol

you also recognize that jason ranks above tim in "well-adjusted" here, god, how does it feel to be so correct. and tim is well-adjusted here! he's never had to be a vigilante! but he's also much lonelier than in canon. something that made retrospective sense while we were writing is that he fell out of liking ball sports (despite not being a desk nerd) is that...who does he have to enjoy them with in this au?

threw not through. anyway I FORGOT ABOUT RUTABAGA. I AM SO SORRY RUTABAGA. the amount of love between the characters is so important to me bc it’s always there no matter how fucked the bats are about showing it normally. the brownstone does end up feeling like a safe space like it somehow feels so easy most of the time and then when tangential forces (sorry dick) show up it’s like the air changes. but allie and korvin and tim all have such Personalities its insane it works out like that.

RUTIE BEST GIRL, forgiven lol. YES YES YES there is so much love and it's like, the love doesn't stop you from doing the work. the bats are so fucked up, and we only get a glimpse of dick and korvin's relationship where you can see the maladapted consequences on both of their parts, dick not being fully equipped to "raise" korvin and korvin wanting to be easy/convenient for dick. and korvin's deep-seated not-abandonment issues tied with family and cultural trauma/burden.

(i still stand by the "good older brother dick grayson" tag, he's just. oh there's a lot. if you read between the lines there's so much being implied for TPAC)

but having allie in this 'verse, allie and korvin together ground each other. that's why they're so co-dependent in the beginning (it's healthier at the end), that's why they still had the wherewithal to seek an outside friend, and yes, that is why the brownstone is like that. their place that they made with their own hands.

obviously jason was an issue initially (it felt redundant to write that sentence) but he’s such a necessary part of them by being 1) necessary to allie and 2) the catalyst allie and korvin needed to end up where they are. i do think ppl that important to each other need one big unavoidable conflict to avoid stagnation like obviously he was a necessary part of the story but he was a Necessary Part Of The Story. does this make sense?? four strand braid.

AND YES DUDE you literally. we were writing this and we had the vibe, but we literally did not articulate it to each other until the very end that jason's actually necessary to make all of them normal. i love everything you're saying about needing one unavoidable conflict to resolve. he is part of a four strand braid. it's so strong. it's critical. korvin still finds jason annoying and vice versa. and yet they'd both say the household contains all of them by the end.

i just like that they start off alone and end up together. that’s my thing. jigsaw puzzle. polycule of all time. i can’t think of a way in which another person would ever get that close to them the dynamics are so perfect to me. every need is accounted for. its like a perfect little box in my mind. i think thats it for now lol i’m happy you guys write together. not just bc i love it but also bc it’s so clear u guys have fun doing it and that makes me happy <3

WE MADE IT. it's one thing to prescribe "hey guys this is a polycule" but selling it? the logistics of a polycule? not so easy, and it has to be tailored to the situation and characters. not all of them are romantically/sexually involved, nor do they have straight-forward relationships (hence, qpr), so having you say it fits and they seem seamless is like. top tier praise. coherence, it's everything we've aimed for.

thank you for all of your thoughts! we do have tons of fun and that's why we love sharing what we have! and we hope to keep doing projects like this, or we'll just be at each other's side while we work on our individual fics.

[madstronaut]

guess wot my fellow hoes (fellhoes?) you’re getting a two-fer-one deal

obligatory alpha post link below:

because I have been deep in my werewolf/hybrid!CODmen fixation while I was drunk off reading moondrunk I decided to take a break...

....by reading johnny boy and i dont want to even look at that ao3 history stat that tells you how many times you've visited this story IT IS A LOT

my record for one of my comfort stories is 79 times and that was back in january last i looked, and it doesn't count the copypaste backup i have in my notes in case of airplane mode. don't look at me rn (cough obligatory @the-californicationist G&G reference/tag here)

ANYWAY MOVING ON 🐺🐺🐺

Reading: Moondrunk Monster by @ghostgorlsworld

so I went to watch the Love Death Robots episode referred to here and UNFFFF forgot how good that whole series was! wolflovers, go watch the Shape-Shifters episode from S1

once again i love a good fleshed-out reader backstory and this one is no exception

also as a certified graves simp the spittake I had to clean up at reading the phrase “Captain Graves”

also wolf-friendly pain medication? please i would happily read an appendix or endnotes/footnotes about the lore/worldbuilding here <3

"They weren’t used to humans being kind to them."🥺🥺🥺🥺

me to myself: tbh in many ways this is the world we are living in rn

that line about reader sleeping in the back of the med bay reminded me of this famous pic I saw way back when:

U.S. Army nurse Amy Stuart of the 5th MASH unit deployed in Saudi Arabia naps on a cot while hugging a teddy bear sent by her family during Operation Desert Storm (February 22, 1991)

getting a little too real but at my age, always hurts my heart and deeply disturbs me to see people younger than me who i consider children going off to/waging war COUGH ANYWAY SRY ESCAPING REALITY BACK TO FANFIC-

piney has such a succinct, tight way of writing to set the scene and story premise up so well - fucking salivating at ghost taking reader to their tent and him getting miffed at her sitting on soap’s bunk until she sits on his <3 LMAO I SEE YOU GHOSTY YOU LITTLE LOVESICK PUPPY YOU~

You glanced down, seeing the Scottish flag on the wall, the photos of a couple that looked exactly like Johnny. “Oh, sorry.” 

ok but also johnny WOULD have selfies of himself up on his own bunk

“ahm easy on the eyes, aint i LT”

“shut it”

You were American, so you didn’t have much taste for tea unless it was iced and sweet. 

me, a rabid tea swiller, raising my hand: UM NOT ALL AMERICANS HATE “TREE PISS” AS TED LASSO CALLS IT OKAY (okay but I love that show so much)

unfff wolf!ghost crowding reader into his own bed forcing her to sleep in it is just *so many chef’s kisses*

Gaz was healed within a day, coming to visit you with a Snickers bar as thanks. “I’ve been saving it for an occasion,” he said. “Wolves…well, we can’t really have chocolate without quite a bit of pain so I thought I would give it to you instead. As thanks.” 

ok this was the most adorable loredrop ever also literally heartbroken at the idea they can’t enjoy chocolate!!!!

The adjustments were freezing slabs of raw beef and plating it up still half-frozen. this reminded me of this frozen organic dog chow i kept getting insta ads for after dogsitting for a friend (if u can hear this siri/insta ad algorithms, FUCK YOU RESPECT MY PRIVACY) anyway in the ad the way the person plated it for their dog and the way their dog ate it with such gusto made me, a human, want to try the dog food lol

“Not everyone in America lives in Texas, Soap.”

👏thank👏 you👏facts👏

You smiled. “A small town in Oklahoma.”

“Bloody hell, that’s just Texas.”

👏also👏 facts👏 (don’t come for me texans this new yorker will (lovingly) fuck you up; god bless amurica)

He was wearing gloves, as always, but they were warm when he pressed them against the scars, fitting his fingers into the obvious claw marks.

The 141 was silent, watching Ghost with a mixture of surprise and horror. Price looked as if he were about to intervene, his knuckles white around his fork.

i fucking l o v e this entire scene

They were still strangers to you, but the base felt too quiet without them, and your skin felt bare without Ghost’s stare upon it.

i am shivering at how good this sentence is

ghost: has a record for being more wolf than human and acts of aggression against humans

also ghost: makes tea for reader regularly when she can’t sleep

also reader if you’re having a eat-three-powdered-donuts-in-one-sitting kind of day, you eat that whole box girl no one will fault you for it <3

Ghost hummed, then came the unmistakable sound of licking the sugar off his fingers. There had also been blood on his fingertips, from the night’s previous activities.

You don’t want to think about why that makes your belly clench. 

😏😏😏we love the feral ones

also unexpected gifts are some of the best ones

i felt the adrenaline of the humvee ambush like i was watching a live action movie - i could picture the entire scenes very easily in my head <3

and ghost taking off her boots >>>>>>>>

A man in a skull mask was asleep in the chair in front of you, his head tipped back against the wall, his legs relaxed and spread wide. 

ah yes, classic submission position~

The meek little nurse that had put a Colonel’s son in the ER. 

meek is one of my favorite words. i have heard an alternate definition for this as “meekness is great power under control” and it stuck in my head ever since; pls bow before medic reader my meek badass queen

Your heart raced. It was such a human instinct, to see a predator and want to either kiss it or run from it. 

ah yes imho the heart of why wolf/hybrid and enemies-to-lovers etc. etc. etc. tropes and fics are so popular~

Ghost seemed to like your attention, his ears perked at the top of his head. It was oddly endearing, and you normally considered yourself a cat person.

hehe big ghost wolf, smol floppy ears - i will not let this image leave my head

ok and the wolflore about the recessive genes!! eating it all up <3

also i know this is a ghostfic but soap blushing and mumbling bout his coffeeshop crush is soo <333333333

"you’re too young to feel old and miserable like me.” Soap smiled, a bit of cheer back in his eye. “You’re only three years older’n me, lass, I wouldn’t call ye old.”

literally me to anyone <30/even a year younger than me

"ALSO, yes i'm setting up for a future soap/cafe!reader fic"

okay the unholy screech that erupted from me at reading this author’s note i’m-

Graves sat in a simple metal chair, cool, calm and collected without a single blonde hair out of place. 

me fully knowing graves isnt even doing anything here, just sitting: go off, king

“I wasn’t going to let that boy take my soul, sir,” you said calmly. “Not for something as worthless as a career.”

well said indeed <3

You wondered if he would come visit you, if you asked. If he would sit in your dusty, frilly living room and drink from your pumpkin shaped mugs.

PUMPKIN-SHAPED MUGS <3 <3 <3

Price looked up from a paperback, a twitch in his brow. He preferred to keep out of conflicts between the pack, only interfering when blood was spilled. 

oh please my headcanon for price is that he inhales gossip like oxygen and keeps it filed and sorted alphabetically and chronologically in his mind palace to pull up as needed

They were on active duty, for Christ’s sake, it wasn’t like he could bend her over against one of those cots and stake his claim,  COUGHOMGWHYTHEEVERLOVINGFUCKNOTCOUGH no matter how badly he wanted to.  

The 141 hunted at night, so during the day Gaz and Soap would occasionally bring you a muffin for breakfast or a stray cup of coffee. Even Price, the fatherly man he was, brought you one of his extra novels to read while you were awake during the night shift, one of those cheesy detective thrillers that helped you get through the night without passing out on a patient.

who doesn’t love familial!141 🥰🥰

it’s nice to remind yourself that you’re still a simple woman that appreciates a nice mani-pedi and a good hair day.

this is so real - taking care of yourelf/reminding urself to feel human is so important <3

You had the rank and the experience, so of course, you got the lion’s share of reports. ahem this a small almost throwaway line but much appreciated - LEADERSHIP IS FOR SERVICE. TO SHOULDER THE BURDEN FOR THOSE UNDER YOU, AND LIFT THEM UP. TAKE THE HITS SO THEY DON’T HAVE TO - ONES THEY AREN’T EVEN AWARE OF IF YOU’RE GOOD AT IT. anyway stepping down once again from my soapbox-

ah reader i can think of many MANY MANY spicy ways to motivate ghosty to do his patriotic duty~

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

AND ALSO Reading: Johnny Boy by @ghostgorlsworld

first off being thrown into the deep end of the incredible lorebuilding had me ready to swim and dive deep without even taking a breath of reality because the story!!!! the worldbuilding!!!! absolutely immaculate

a recurring daydream/brainrot scenario ive gone back to time and again with my blorbos through the years is getting knocked up with their spawn and having to escape and go on the run and hide the child then have an implausibly wild reunion, often with some physically impossible makeup sex and then birth my own private sports team's worth of children to build our world empire (drama, romance, intrigue, adventure - i would buy out opening night tickets to the movieplots my brain spits out, anyway ty for coming to my BedTedTalk) anyway this has such a unique niche in the CODfics ive read with the almost enemies-to-lovers-back-to-enemies flavoring with brother’s best friend trope in play

on that note, shaking tom’s hand vigorously for sneaking johnny back into reader’s life, then backhanding him with my other hand - also for sneaking johnny back into reader’s life

cute-ass mactavish sire emma needs to eat raw meat to survive? her supernatural senses make her an old soul in a child’s body? no further comments, absolute perfection. i love the explorations of “hey scenting/being a hybrid, ESPECIALLY growing up as one, ain’t all its cracked up to be and is not just all 100% sexy times and funsies” and her picking up on mom being sad all the time a certain someone is near and declaring “if mommy doesn’t like him, I don’t either” just UGGHHHH i just want to give her a hug and tell her it will all work out, shes is in good hands (including but not limited to her own!) also tear the throat out of anyone who would dare steal her childhood (fistbumping my fellow immigrant first gen firstborns&eldest daughters who had to grow up too fast/take care of adults)

also one of the reasons i love this fic is the very fierce and protective love reader has for her emma and their really beautiful bond <3 fanfic can be so healing and tender in very unexpected ways and their relationship slipped past all my walls and armor and just stuck me right in the feels <3

the conversation about grandpa jack haunting them and turning the book pages for him was so sweet i think my molars rotted away on the spot, 🥺🥺🥺 piney i will be billing you for my dental visit expenses; be prepared to pay cos ive always wanted to secretly try out grillz as a new yorker girlie 

also random brainrot but 1000% positive grandpa jack was a fucking hottie in his glory days (underground fighting rings? picturing tyler durden rn)

also please give mama reader a fucking medal, cutting up raw meats and organs first thing in the morning (EVERY morning) is a feat indeed

also johnny/reader’s first meeting at the funeral home is absolutely exquisite, the perfect amount of drama and angst!!! raaaaaa biting my pillow and tearing it to pieces

- reader’s physical reaction to the “he’s behind me, isn’t he” revelation

- johnny’s physical glow-up described through reader’s eyes is just UNFFFF *chef’s kiss*

- reader going straight into panic/mama bear mode re: emma

- “it could have been longer, john” HOLY FUCKING SHIT MY ICE COLD QUEEN PLEASE I CANNOT KNEEL BEFORE YOU FASTER OR I’LL BREAK MY KNEECAPS

- “your voice so cold it stung your tongue as you spoke. The ache in your chest was overtaken by rage, pure and hot. “Excuse me.” i am f e r a l for this line, this is PERFECTION i can taste the emotions here like viscerally on my tongue 

- honestly kudos to reader for not punching tom’s lights out when she’s running to get emma from him

“I don’t care.” You wanted to scream. You wanted to cry. You wanted to dig your nails into his skin and hurt him like he hurt you. “We don’t need you, we never needed you. I loved you, and you left for years . Deal with the consequences.”

Johnny Mctavish, a wolf, a soldier, flinched from you. 

It wasn’t the victory you thought it would be.

AAAAAAAA YES THIS IS ME AS I READ THIS REVELING IN THE ANGST

also the last line of ch1 being “Forget him. John always runs.” and summary of Ch2 being “Johnny comes home.” ????? gonna run out of my lipstick giving chef’s kisses to piney here

the way piney fleshes out reader and her story and history with johnny just makes me want to give her a ginormous hug, also like an all-expenses paid weeklong vacation to the maldives or something for the absolute bullshit she’s endured (might have to join you on this though dear reader my salary/responsibilities working in [redacted] means i also need an all-expense paid weeklong vacation to the maldives)

also I FUCKING SUSPECTED JOHNNY WAS SECRETLY TRYING TO SCENT READER WHEN HE SNUCK UP ON HER TO GET CLOSE ENOUGH TO SURPRISE HER BY PUTTING HIS MITTS ON HER SHOULDER; i love that emma picked up on this through her nose

“Because you still smell like me, kitty.” brain going brrrr being overloaded with conspiracy theories about teh many layers what this may mean

wolves were different from normal men. Territorial. 

me, reading about fictional territorial wolfmen on tumblr: 🥰🥰🥰

me, reading about IRL men being ‘territorial’: 🤢🤢🤢

“Grandpa was like me,” she said, loyal as always. 

i’ll be totally honest the character i fell head over heels with in this story was not johnny taking first place no - EMMA MACTAVISH MY HEART <3 i hope my future children will be brave, kind, wise, funny and compassionate like you <3

It seemed that the only person suffering in this situation was you.

this line + the short almost throwaway line of reader “laughing wetly” just before it just ughhh my heartache! shoutout to all the hardworking parents/caregivers simply Trying Their Best And Getting No Recognition™️ (madstronaut sees you and applauds you, great is your reward in heaven and or the pits of tumblrhell, dealer’s choice)

“It wasn’t your decision to make, Tom,” you said, your voice reaching that pitch that made you feel like your mother. god this got too real, when i hear myself sound like my mother sometimes (esp. when im mad) i literally narrow my eyes at my own reflection and have to check myself before i wreck myself iykyk

also freaking love the lore about hybrids/wolves being discriminated against in society and johnny’s own experience and pitfalls navigating the world! lorebuilding>>>>>>>>>>>>

You were dressed more appropriately this time, a Black Sabbath tee and sweats, your work clothes of pencil skirts, trousers, and wool sweaters currently drying on the laundry lines in the backyard. 

ok reader i see you my little rocker <3 you would love saint vitus bar in brooklyn; make tom or johnny watch emma so we can headbang to our heart’s content and you can enjoy a well-deserved night out <3 (on that note #REOPENVITUSYOUCOWARDS)

Emma two-handed it, just like you tell her to. It seemed she was trying to be on her best behavior, the little traitor.

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH EMMA YOU LITTLE DEVIOUS ADORABLE SHIT (said goodnaturedly) I LOVE THIS LINE SO MUCH

Something in your chest squeezed when Johnny tucked the blanket around Emma’s skinny arms, more gentle than you had ever seen him.

ok though real talk men being gentle and tender, esp. around kiddos - hi, yes please sirs you can indeed help me mop my panties off the floor

Susan didn’t know what to do with a little boy that chewed on the furniture and got sick when she didn’t let him eat raw meat. 

i physically need to see fanart of young wolf!soap gnawing on an armchair leg

This was why you liked Charlie, he was so, so reasonable. 

hello charlie or as i like to call you “walking beige flag” the way i would roast him if i was bffs with reader..

also emma drawing that wolf catcher memory and waiting until soap was there to show it to both him and reader - AAGGGGH I freaking loved this and how clever this is i can do an entire pepe silvia conspiracy board meme breakdown of why and how much i loved this whole interaction

emma knowing it is a tough memory for her mama but choosing to draw and show it specifically to johnny - and waiting til they are all in each other’s presences (presence? idk)

i can see reader fighting (a losing battle lets be honest this is johnny fucking mactavish) tooth and nail so far to maintain the armor of assumptions and explanations she’s told herself to deal with the pain of being in love then (from her pov) rejected and how this has bled into how she paints johnny to emma despite her best efforts 

and yet as they say sometimes the body says and knows what the mind/heart cannot say yet and 1000% sure that little miss wolf emma mactavish loves her mom but is also sure that momma isn’t sure on where she stands with johnny

also ALSO the fact that jack raised both johnny and emma HAS TO MEAN SOMETHING RIGHT - even though they’ve just met i love the little tidbits of the special wolf-to-wolf and father/daughter connection they have

AND AND AND so my grand theory here is that i believe emma made and showed this drawing to johnny because from what she knows - she perceives mama reader to despise johnny on the surface, yet still wants him - but based on what she’s told her about johnny, thinks johnny may not want mama - and drew this to prove mama is still worthy and a great protector - “You haven’t got any teeth or claws but it didn’t matter.” - and “showing her off” to johnny COUGH ANYWAY THAT’S WHERE I’LL END MY THESIS TYVM

also i love the bits sprinkled around the fic about johnny’s eyes sparkling eerie/brighter when he gets worked up

Perhaps all the war and killing really was good for his temperament.

HAHAHAHA OKAY SHIT, MAMA, WHO IS THE DELULU ONE NOW????????? (tbh it’s me, hi im the probl-)

johnny trying to find excuses to spend his PMC savings & money on reader + emma - IRL me and my bills & student loans crying laughing hysterically at reader turning this down

“Shut up!” Tommy said, frowning at you from the couch. “Fuck, lovie, he’s a friend from work.”

The man in the mask raised a hand in an awkward wave.

HAHAHAHHA SIMON!!! his entrance totally threw me off but ofc tom’s SHUT UP (true sibling energy right here, no greeting, just yells) and simon’s lil wave just UGGGGGGGHHHH such a nice palate cleanser from the intense but delicious angst - also tipping my hat at the subtle way to introduce Bi!Tommy with the “he’s not company he’s a guest” line 😏

You felt Simon’s eyes on you, judging, appraising. You were sure Johnny probably didn’t have the nicest things to say about you–most likely that you were an irritating little girl that followed him around for twenty years then proceeded to get pregnant and raise the child without him knowing,

would love to know what and how TF141 thinks of mama reader from how johnny has described her…despite her own misgivings <3

Johnny was an unsuspecting kind of violent, always smiling and laughing until he wasn’t, until it was serious.

Simon was different. He felt older. 

aaaaaa this is SUCH a good characterisation of them both

You had missed him like a lost limb-

ooh i absolutely love this phrase! I have one person in my life i went through a friend breakup with (iykyk - these are more painful than romantic breakups imho) and we mended things and discovered afterwards we both referred to our break in our friendship as ‘having lost a limb’ to other folks (!) sometimes birds of a feather really do flock together

 “It’s just…we’re adults, and adults have tricky feelings. preach mama 🙋‍♀️🙋‍♀️🙋‍♀️

but also pls mama i know you have a kiddo but putting on nail polish right before a date? nooooooooooooooooo though chanel polishes ARE superior cos of that fat brush so all is forgiven <3

also obligatory FUCK YOU YOU FUCKING FUCK to charlie for forgetting the date, do you EVEN KNOW THE SUFFERING WE PUT OURSELVES THROUGH TO GET READY FOR A DATE? TO GET READY TO FACE THE WORLD OUTSIDE OUR DOOR, PERIODT?

IF SOMEONE DID THIS TO ONE OF MY GIRLIES I WILL BE READY TO FUCKING SHOW SOMEONE’S BITCH ASS THAT YOU DO NOT NEED TEETH AND CLAWS INDEED TO GET RIGHT FUCKED UP

anyway climbing down from my soapbox on behalf of women everywhere, back to the fic

as a tiny tiny redeemable bit - charlie having weekly dinners with his gran is a huge green flag trait

He stilled, looking at you. His hand came up, pinching your chin like he used to. “You havnae called me Johnny in a very long time.” The rawness of his voice broke you down into someone you used to be, someone that loved him.

me, extremely pleased, reading this: ah yes, in vino veritas~

The alcohol had dampened the anger in your chest, you felt…open. Open to talking about it. Bleeding the poison from the wound.

<3 <3 <3 this line <3 <3 <3

irl sidenote: u can also do this without alcohol my friends <3 trusted friends, therapy, long retreats into nature, safe places, safe people all very effective and cutting right to the heart in the gentlest ways possible, painful but highly recommend over the alternative (and lesser) options of keeping the poison inside <3 

Within a blink, Johnny was kneeling before you, his hands on your knees as his eyes bored into yours. You felt a chill, a whisper of fight or flight pricking your neck at his predatory stare.

ahem hello this is it

this is what does it for me

kneelng for your prey <3

also i love that their first real physical intimate contact after reuniting, beyond that hug after the wolf catcher story, is johnny LICKING reader’s tears off her face

“All I had was a picture and letters, but I could get off just from you writing that you missed me, just from your smell lingering on the fucking paper.” whats that phrase? marines make do? 🥰🥰🥰

me, reading about lacy underwear getting shredded: mmmmf yes sexxxxxyyyy

also me: ok i just know that was expensive, cringing inside at having to replace it

also fics that have men talking to ur pussy as they take care of it >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

I CANNOT WAIT FOR READER TO WAKE UP AND SCREAM AT HERSELF  SAW PT 7 POSTED WOKE UP SCREAMING BLACKED OUT AND CONTINUED MY FEVERISH RANTING ABOUT HOW MUCH I LOVE THIS FIC IN REBLOGS BELOW

[carnalapples]

12, 22, 32 for the weird writer asks!! 👯

Hello Rowan and thank you!! I typed out all my answers and then promptly did not save the post 😌 so take two:

12. If a genie offered you three writing wishes, what would they be? Btw if you wish for more wishes the genie turns all your current WIPs into Lorem Ipsum, I don’t make the rules

Oh, this is hard! I think...

To be able to finish any WIP I start.

To be able to pause time so I can write.

The ability to know exactly what I want to adjust when I look at my writing.

22. How organized are you with your writing? Describe to me your organization method, if it exists. What tools do you use? Notebooks? Binders? Apps? The Cloud?

There is barely a system here! I write on Pages so I can use either my computer or phone when I feel like it. WIPs I'm in the mood for stay in the cloud, stagnated ones go on my hard drive. My WIP folder is kind of a wasteland. I also write out of order and drag things around very often. I'm in a weird spot where I don't write super long fics, and I feel like I can't justify one file per chapter, but they're long enough that I get confused in my own docs... I need help tbh

32. What is a line from a poem/novel/fanfic etc that you return to from time and time again? How did you find it? What does it mean to you?

Warning: rambling ahead, haha. A few months ago, I read The Namesake by Jhumpa Lahiri and I felt so seen while reading it, so much of it felt painfully relevant, I was shocked in a way... The familiar relationships, the questions of identity and culture, a lot of it really hit deep. I don't want to quote the whole book at you because I would lol, but one core moment:

And suddenly, the sound of his pet name, uttered by his father as he has been accustomed to hearing it all his life, means something completely new, bound up with a catastrophe he has unwittingly embodied for years. “Is that what you think of when you think of me?” Gogol asks him. “Do I remind you of that night?” “Not at all,” his father says eventually, one hand going to his ribs, a habitual gesture that has baffled Gogol until now. “You remind me of everything that followed."

I think this is the perfect little highlight of their relationship: we've gotten to see both their perspectives, so we understand their intentions, but this is one of the first moments where Gogol and his father begin to understand each other. That lack of understanding causes hurt on both sides, and it's not going to fully stop, but there's a step here. I love that kind of cyclical parent-child relationship in fiction, the road to hell is paved with good intentions, etc...

[philhoffman]

This week’s Monday Philm is PSH’s only animated feature, the Australian claymation Mary and Max (2009), dir. Adam Elliot. Big year for animated!Phil—his episode of Arthur came out just a few months later!

I think this is only the second or third time I’ve watched Mary and Max, but I always need a bit of an adjustment period to get used to the style. I enjoy animated films and I especially appreciate the time and effort that goes into creating these lengthy stop-motion pieces (especially after watching the little “making of” doc with director Adam Elliot), but I don’t mesh at all with Elliot’s self-described “chunky-wonky” style. Visually one of the more challenging films for me to watch (probably because I am a bit like Max!).

A very good story, though. Ugly and beautiful, I said last time. Both Mary and Max’s stories dig around uncomfortably deep in my own head and childhood and memories. A lot of themes I connect with but don’t really feel like elaborating on right now. I’m listening to the late, great Daniel Johnston as I write this and Max reminds me of him, lol.

I was going through some old interviews this morning and found one where Phil said he recorded basically everything for Max in a single day, from a recording booth in London while Skyping with the director and crew in Australia. I’ve been thinking about that all day—he put in a few hours of work one day in 2008 and 15 years later it’s still having a deep, visceral impact on so many. I’ve read a lot of reviews from people who really cherish this film and honor it as the underrated gem it is. It’s not my favorite movie but it does represent autism and anxiety and loneliness and depression in a surprisingly real way, which I suppose is one of the advantages of animation. Maybe it’s easier to be truthful with complicated themes when you can literally shape them frame-by-frame with your bare hands.

“He had the most beautiful voice of any modern American actor. (Really, listen to it—it's amazing),” Tom Carson wrote about Philip in 2014. Whether it’s Lester Bangs’ vocal fry or Allen Mellencamp audibly caving in on himself or Lancaster Dodd’s commanding speeches or Phil’s own real voice—sort of slow, low, mumbling, gears turning in his head, until he catches the thought and it practically bursts out of him, chasing after it, voice raised, often booming, easy to laugh, a slight New York accent, such a unique inflection you can hear his tongue punctuate certain words and sounds so clearly—it’s one of his most outstanding trademarks. That’s what really makes Mary and Max special to me, is hearing PSH use that deep, lovely voice to explore a new medium. It’s almost easy to forget it’s him and I totally understand how people watch it without realizing he’s in it. Tbh I might love what he does in Arthur even more—it’s so camp—but he’s got such a rich voice, so good for any kind of voice acting, and it’s neat he got a taste of it doing this film. 

Always thinking about that Esquire interview when Phil said, “I don't think I've made anything my kids can watch until they're like 40... It's funny, because I did a voice in an animated movie called Mary and Max. And a guy, like, kills himself in it. The one animated movie I make is for adults.”

[fangirl-and-doctor-help]

Alright, I’m still super busy and I don’t know when it’s going to end and I promised to be back so here I am! Bare with me, I’m really trying my best!

“It was a blessing he didn’t march into your home with a wedding gown, forcing you to say the vows immediately.” Now this would be something!

“True torture was playing the part of shocked and grief-stricken when Natalie called you a few hours earlier to inform you of Felix’s tragic car accident.”

“You still had no answer to that question as you finally walked into the health center on the next day.” I would’ve taken a break of at least 5 years thank you very much

“Not only by shared business, but ranking now much higher in your status as the fiancée to the ruthless mob boss.” I’m very impressed how quickly she adjusted to the situation and started using the word fiancé. But… it’s Steve, I would be wearing a white gown and dragging him to church the next day!

“Unruly hair, which he combed neatly, but they still betrayed harmlessly chaotic functioning of youth. A pressed collar of a button down shirt peeked above his blue cardigan.” I’m kinda digging this style for Peter tbh

“I can plant different seeds, if you wish. Inside you, Princess.” I almost choked

“A facade, with a shiny ring and your new last name stained with the blood of Steve’s opponents. Not a true merging of two people, neither in minds nor in hearts, definitely not in bodies.” Keep telling yourself this

“If you want to help-” he picked a spatula and stirred his own coffee- “if you want to get out of Rogers’ grip, come here the day after tomorrow at the same time. I’ll give you the meeting details then.” This feels like a test to me

“She moved a free chair to sit next to you on your side of the desk and in a hushed tone asked what was going on.” I love that she has someone to rely on at least to an extent

“But I think you should meet him. A meeting doesn’t yet mean you’re agreeing to anything.” Maybe but Steve is going to be furious anyway

“Your instinct was telling you it’s best to squirm your way out of this, even though you haven’t yet heard the deal they offered.” And she better listen to those instincts

“Still glued to the cabinets, shock freezing you in place, you watched as Steve Rogers strode inside in all of his dark glory. Shoulders so wide he barely fit in the entrance, muscles straining under the fabric of his clothes.”

EXCUSE ME EVA WHO ALLOWED YOU TO WRITE THIS SCENE?

“There was nothing romantic about it, even if your post-orgasmic heart flowed with bonding oxytocin.” I need to keep reminding myself that this Steve is dark DARK

To find the light, we must first touch the darkness

Please also check out @bluepinkangel​’s amazing hot moodboard for this universe 🖤

dark!mafia Steve Rogers x female reader

summary: When you unexpectedly are appointed to run a health center, you foresee many struggles along the way, but not one in the form of a merciless mob boss. Steve Rogers’ core aim is to own and he won’t take no for an answer. To any of his demands.

warnings for this chapter: dark!Steve Rogers; power imbalance; forced relationship; violence; death (minor character); D/s undertones; gun play; gun play kink; explicit sexual situation; faint choking kink; mention of breeding kink;

I did warn you this Steve is dark 😜

word count: 8k

Touch the Darkness Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Chapter 4. Heated hail

~ * ~ 

Hues of orange and purple brushed over the horizon in softest strokes as the sun settled down, but your heart couldn’t settle in your chest, every few hours jumping into a rapid patter to the tune of anxiety. 

Staying in the safety of your apartment for two days after the horrid events didn’t help much, it still felt impossible to ease into your new life with its stains of alluring darkness. 

You called in sick the morning after your engagement. Then stayed home for another day, as well. Hiding worked no miracles, your brain was very much conscious of the events that happened and of the things awaiting you, but at least you didn’t have to face it all for those few more hours of denial.

Though no one appeared on your doorstep and you didn’t sense any eyes on you as you occasionally walked out onto your tiny balcony, you were convinced that Steve knew very well where you were. 

At all times.

It was a blessing he didn’t march into your home with a wedding gown, forcing you to say the vows immediately. You half expected it, since your continued talk after the kiss included Steve’s announcement that you’re to be married in a month. 

He wasn’t interested in waiting.

It seemed that even when Steve Rogers appeared patient, it was only when he knew the results he demanded would come precisely in the time window he approved of. 

Czytaj dalej

[megistusdiary]

Dan heng x Fem!Reader. Please I'm so down bad for this man 😭😭

You can write whatever you want<33

Hydration check btw

i love dan heng sm he is so fine 🤭🤭 some of the little silly things he does reminds me of my bf tbh. love dan heng fr!

also i am currently hydrating with my taco bell tea ‼️‼️

(ps i rewrote this like 6 times until i was satisfied. looks like i am a bit more out of my writing game than i originally thought 😭)

dom!dan heng x sub!fem anatomy/pronouns reader

warnings: smut (minors dni!), oral/facesitting 🙈 (reader receiving), implied continuation of the scene

dan heng's fingers splayed over your hips, digging into your flesh slightly. he kept you perched atop his lap, awkwardly fidgeting with the hem of your shirt.

he could feel you through the thin fabric of your shorts, the rhythmic pulsing of your heartbeat from, well, down there. it was enough to dust his cheeks rosy, but he forced himself to maintain his collected composure.

"i want to try something new." his voice broke the short silence, causing you to tilt your head sideways.

"new as in..?"

"you'll like it." he promised, avoiding answering the question, leaving you gasping when he suddenly shifted to lay flat on the bed. he dropped you closer up on his chest while he adjusted your pillows beneath his head.

your eyebrows furrowed as you rested your hands on his shoulders. "and just what are you planning?"

"come here." he tugged at your hips, feeling you hesitantly shift further up his body, coming to a grinding halt near his throat.

"absolutely not. i will suffocate you!" you grinned, attempting to move your thigh back over to the other side of the bed.

but his firm hold on you did not allow you to do so. instead, he dug his hands further into your waist, hearing you let out a sharp breath as he prevented you from removing yourself.

"stay still." he ordered, though his voice was gentle, it was enough to make you stop resisting, allowing him to carefully move you to hover over his lips.

"are you sure about this?" you asked, suddenly feeling shy when his fingers moved to slide over your bare lips.

"as long as you trust me."

"of course i do." you affirmed, feeling him nod against you and press a kiss to your inner thigh.

"then sit down." he urged, inwardly cringing at his own unfamiliar tone. though it was quickly forgotten when you allowed yourself to settle down, feeling him hold you above him.

the first press of his lips to your slit made you flinch, letting out a soft noise that had him sighing into your core.

he allowed his tongue to flick out, giving small licks across the seam before delving in further to gently lap across your clit. the sensation had you shuddering, moving one hand to grip at his hair and the other on the headboard.

"oh- dan heng-" you bit your cheek, eyes fluttering open and closed as he wrapped his lips around your clit.

he was ever so gentle with everything he did with you. not just hugging or cuddling, but anything in bed. he was soft in the way he smoothed his thumbs down your hips while he slowly trailed his tongue over you. he gave you time to really feel the sensations rather than chase after an orgasm as if it were a race.

you could feel vibrations from his own muffled groans traveling through you. the hand that was previously in his hair removed itself to wipe away the tears gathering in your eyes.

little cries of his name spilled from your lips as you rocked your hips against him, feeling his nose bump into you while he moved his tongue back and forth.

"i'm gonna- dan heng- please." all he could hear were incoherent babbles as he carefully pressed his tongue into you, feeling you constrict around the smooth muscle. you shivered above him, gripping your shirt in your fist and tugging on it as you ground your hips into him. "there, there, more!" your whines grew louder when he moved back to playing with your clit, tracing random shapes over and over.

finally, with an abrupt jerk and sob of his name, you came over his tongue, feeling the aftershocks move through your body pleasantly.

the moment you gained control of your body, you slid off of him, cupping his face between your palms.

"did you like it?" he asked breathlessly, your slick glistening across his lips like gloss as you laughed, wiping the tears from your eyes and sweat off your forehead, kissing his cheeks.

"let me show you just how much i liked it.."

[knowlessman]

am a veggettibble. dint sleep much lately; AC was broke. gonna watch some bnha tho. "Make It! Do Or Die Survival Training." Also: tier lists! but text only bc I don't feel like whole-assing it with pictures and all.

new OP. prolly just for this special, I'd guess? -- is the "delinquent" archetype that they seem to be pulling with bakugo usually half as, y'know, blatantly abusive and generally hazardous as he is, or is he just a huge outlier? I don't think I've watched that many highschool anime.

"we're gonna do two teams of ten." oh, awesome, so we're gonna see some of Class B - …there really are twenty entire characters in Class A alone, huh. I keep forgetting that. excuse me for referencing something that… may have aged very dubiously, but I swear this show is taking over a large chunk of my monkeysphere. : \ -- if you flipped a coin between deku and bakugo and they were both able to see it, it would land on its edge. (…he says, as if it isn't just the UA teachers going "hey, this kid REALLY wants to kill this other kid. we'd better always group them together no matter the context until that stops being the case.")

deku I'm pretty sure your team is waiting for you while you laboriously recreate momo's logic in making the teams and recycled footage of eveyone's quirks plays over it

"that's yaoyorozu's voice!" mimic. …I mean, it could be.

inb4 bakugo starts up some more quakes

not a mimic. fair enough. 'XD wait, why isn't iida's helmet strapped on? what's the point of it if it just flies right off and lets him bonk his head?

they keep making bakugo smarter than I'd like him to be. : / he's an evil sledgehammer on legs, it doesn't feel right when he's the solutions guy.

…this special or whatnot is a little boring so far tbh, but come to think of it, at least mineta's not in it.

beats me how deku's saying his kick is more accurate for this than bakugo's blasts, but wever

"hey, you. you're finally awake. you were trying to rescue that training dummy, right?" -- hm. apparently the thing's not padded enough, or something. he whacked his head on the wall and then the helmet came off.

"if deku said he was gonna save them, it was because he knew he could!" …yeah. because deku is absolutely the kind of guy who has a solid grasp on his own limits. (well okay, he has gotten a bit better about it.)

maybe bakugo's writing is actually galaxy-brained and he's a parody of libertarianism. he sure as hell talks like it. "let me help you walk!" "no!" "you helped us by getting pichu to turn on the emergency power, let us help you!" "no! I had only selfish reasons for doing that!" … "be my cane! it's okay if you help me walk because I bullied you into it, but only then!"

TIER LIST TIME (I was gonna use tiermaker but then I realized I could literally just write it down normal-like; also I didn't feel like either making lists on it or browsing it for ones with identifiable pictures). As a reminder, I just finished s3, so, yeah. My memory of stuff up to that point (and a wiki page I'm trying not to read the spoily subtitles on) is what I'm working with.

CLASS 1-A (Plus, I guess, the smaller-than-I-thought handful of other students who we know anything about/who I recognize) TIER LIST: -- Zuko Tier: Shoto Todoroki (He's so cool and has so much going on and he manages to be OP without being a dick or annoying-to-watch about it); Kyoka Jiro (She's so cool); Tenya Iida (He wears glasses and doesn't suck and is a good bean even if he's also a square); Hitoshi Shinso (He looks like a Homestuck and also I wanna see him do cool things in spite of the inherently-villainous power he didn't ask for). -- B Tier: Izuku Midoriya (Gonna be honest, I might mostly be knocking him down a tier to adjust for him being the protagonist; he is a pretty good one as they go tho); Momo Yaoyorozu (The fanservice thing is annoying but she gets to be the most competent character in the show (maybe she's tied with Todoroki for that but he has the advantage of being OP) and that's cool); Fumikage Tokoyami ("What if Crona was a Pepsi Cola instead of a cinnamon roll?"); Tsuyu Asui (Eh, she's cool and is debatably autistic rep, and she has a snake friend); Tetsutetsu Tetsutetsu (META. POD. BROS). -- Very Mid Tier: Itsuka Kendo (She might mostly only have screentime in relation to Ditto, but eh, I like her); Ochaco Uraraka (They had her describe her parents' backstory thing in s2 and then, uh, well now she's pretty much just Sakura-if-Sakura-was-allowed-to-do-things); Eijiro Kirishima (He willingly hangs out with Bakugo and is the guy who says the faux-positive toxic masculinity bullshit, but on the other hand, he's one of the Metapod Bros and that bumps him up a bit); Ibara Shiozaki (IIRC, we very briefly saw her make an idiot out of Kaminari; pretty sure I remember being entertained by that); Inasa Yoarashi (His was an interesting subplot I guess); Mirio Togata (Fricking nudists. : | But he has a point to make and I guess that's something); Mei Hatsume (Her pranking Iida for advertisement was fucking hilarious, but her invading Deku's personal space to annoy Sakuraraka was… well, annoying). -- Who? Tier: Mezo Shoji (He has zero discernible personality but his power's sort of interesting); Mina Ashido; Mashirao Ojiro (He does karate I guess); Nagamasa Mora (Mostly in here to acknowledge his existence tbh); Koji Koda; Toru Hagakure (I swear the sub puts two U's in it; anyway, no me gusta "This character's powers only work if they aren't wearing clothes." Also how in fuckery did she beat Deku in the physical); Rikido Sato; Denki Kaminari (He sidekicks for Mineta : / If it wasn't for that, he might be up a tier); Hanta Sero (He's less interesting than Pichu and would probably hang with Mineta if he had the billing); Tamaki Amajiki (Gorillaz-lead-vocalist-looking mfer); Nejire Hado (…I vaguely remember finding her annoying. We don't know much of anything about either her or 2D yet tho); Saiko Intelli (An interesting antagonist; she gave Yaoyorozu and Jiro and company a hard fight); Neito Monoma (I remember liking his thinking, or at least resisting the show's intention for me to dislike his thinking, when he debuted, but then he just became a sad running gag); Yuga Aoyama (Literally forgot about him until I had everyone else in 1-A down; anyway I guess I don't strongly dislike him but I don't really like him either); Seiji Shishikura (Flippin libertarian creep). -- Weewoo Tier (Translation: "This person is never onscreen without me wishing this show had authority figures in it who were actually remotely responsible"): Katsuki Bakugo (Self-explanatory); Worst Character (Same).

PRO HEROES/TEACHERS TIER LIST: -- B Tier: Eraser Head (Okay maybe it's partly because he reminds me of the shopkeeper from Bleach but he's also just kinda cool); All Might (Smol Might's visual design is Zuko Tier; the character himself, eh, he's pretty good. He has flaws, but he's aware of them and wary of them); Kamui Woods (…He looks a little bit like a Bionicle). -- Very Mid Tier: Gran Torino; Thirteen; Nezu; Selkie; Manual; Cementoss; Gang Orca; Ms. Joke. -- Who? Tier: Ectoplasm; Snipe; Power Loader; Mandalay; Ragdoll; Best Jeanist; Recovery Girl; Tiger; Vlad King; Hound Dog; Mt. Lady; Fourth Kind; Uwabami (Literally did not remember her until I was posting this and had to reopen the wiki tab and check her name 'XD). -- Weewoo Tier: Present Mic; Midnight; Pixie-Bob; Endeavor (…Granted, maybe I'd have a different opinion, or less of one, if I'd been spoiled on things a bit less).

VILLAINS TIER LIST: -- B Tier: Kurogiri (Pajama Boy's handler. The dapperest living hole in reality anyone's ever seen); Dabi (Yeah I've been spoiled on a huge part of what his deal is but I guess I still won't have the full picture for awhile). -- Very Mid Tier: All for One (He is very Mojo Jojo but idk he's competent I guess? And he has some kind of body-possession-immortality thing going I think); Himiko Toga (So far, kind of annoyingly typical with the happy-slasher-blood-licker thing; maybe she gets more interesting later, who knows); Tomura Shigaraki (He's silly and I have no idea what he wants but he's also spoopy sometimes and maybe his motives will get easier to comprehend as we learn more about how One for All's users have treated him); Twice (…I think people like him? He felt very Deadpool in an annoying way at first but that backstory spiel was pretty brutal. Also sort of annoying in another way tho bc people are always looking at clones and going "But which one is the real me?" as if that means anything). -- Who? Tier: Spinner (I don't remember if we found out why he has such a stupid-looking weapon); Stain (…The story treats him and his spiel like a big deal but I still have no real idea what his deal is); Muscular (AKA Bakuswole; I do not remember whether we know anything at all about this fucker); Mr. Compress (…Idfk he looks like a Pokemon filler villain); Moonfish (Go back to Hellraiser you weirdo); Mustard (…He had the backup gun, right? Dang, the last main plotline was so effing long ago); Magne (Very vague queerphobic vibes from this one tbph).

Anyhow. On to s4 next time.

[hollyhomburg]

@mocha000 Ahhh I know it was a bit more of a recap chapter, but I wanted to make sure that everyone knew certain things going into the next chapter, like the added context of Jimin being one of four assassins, the existance of the list of people who will not be killed, Jin’s motivation ect you know.

What the youth heard will be very very flushed out next chapter, maybe the chapter after, I haven’t figured out exactly when it happens, depends on how far we get with the next chapter.

As for moonbyuls abuse, I think I’ll be able to explain more why she is the way that she is after we’ve got her secret aired out, a few people have correctly guessed it via asks in the past few days! Which is scary for me but also reassuring considering if anyone was ever going to figure it out it should be right before it happens. For some reason I want to hold all of their secrets just close to me for a little longer like /ugh/ it’s so hard to clue you guys into them without just saying it.

When editing Namjoon vomiting, I will say that I like- re-edited to be more gross and to give it more juxtipositon you know? I actually really like that part

Just for context to the ‘Yoongi looks regal’ line- I spesifically picture him both in outfit and look to be wearing the run bts practice outfit like- purple coat, Topknot, everything.

Yoongi above everything else is like- kinda good at metabolizing his emotions, even if they continue to effect them after. it’s worth mentioning that the line that moonbyul says in the beginning “familial death is a rite of passage” Yoongi is an orphan at this stage, no parent, no grownup there. He’s very well adjusted to it.

Casually just gonna remind people of the fact that jk said “you’re shitty secret keepers, all of you” all the way back at the beginning of the story- I do think that he knew about Jimin’s job or at the very least suspected it. Jin as well, although that was certainly just a suspicion.

I also agree Tae is pretty and perfect and the only woman that the m/c needs in her life 😤 however- thinking about moonbyul being only jealous of Tae cuz she’s pretty >>>>> love that for her. She’s so not a girls girl.

Honestly I think about the line of intolerance so much when it comes to love. Not only with bily but in the people in my own life. BUT TBH I kinda…really want to write Tae and the m/c getting married 🥺 it’s been my most recent day dream. Like them in their pink dresses? With pink cakes and pink everything? Both of them getting to walk down the isle, yg walking the m/c and Jimin walking Tae 🥺 Namjoon trying to officiate and then crying in the middle? Tae and the m/c getting to call each other ‘my wife 🥺” like they’re gonna be so infuritating about it reminding the whole pack all the time.

The refrence of noodle belonging to a cat kingdom was a refrence to the movie the cat returns!!! Where the main female character saves a street cat and in turn gets offered a seat among cat royalty <3

Ahhh I’m just so worried, honestly writing moonbyul transphobic is harder than writing her abusive- idk why that is for me I just get very worried that people will think I’m being serious just- makin her a little more dislikeable you know?

I don’t think anyone caught the hint I was talking about it! I’ll say that it was in the beginning during the moonbyul part! Lets see if that helps anyone narrow it down <3 thank you so much for your comment! Your takes on this chapter where marvelous to read~!

Before I Leave You (Pt.65)

(Omegaverse au, Mafia au, Bts x Reader)

Summary: The truth always comes out one way or another, and with Jimin temporarily whisked away for surgery- it's up to you and yoongi to answer Namjoon's questions.

Tags: Angst, blood, guns, murder, discussions of morality, descriptions of dead bodies, discussion of past spousal abuse, confessions, hurt/comfort, sickfic, hospitals, reconciliation, vmin focus, Trans! tae, Everybody lives nobody dies,

W/c: 15.0k

A/N: this chapter is a bit heavy on the dialogue but! sorry that this chapter came out when it did, we're finally here! sorry for the break in chapters- I got some not great news about a family members health and wanted to spend some extra time with them over the holidays.

Previous part - Masterlist - First part

The abandoned industrial building rises without warning from the mist and fog. You could almost call in lonely. Although it has its comfort in its stillness, the same way that monsters that do not move do not instill fear. A foe vanquished but not forgotten.

The body. The dust. The puddle of blood by the door is more than enough evidence for plausible deniability. The faint splatter of it here and there like confetti left after a parade, or flower petals that fall in spring and pile up like snow.

Moonbyul stands in the doorway, like a pagan in a house of God. Out of place and out of mind. Dark coat unblemished by dust or blood. She doesn’t stoop to touch the ground or try and clean up the evidence from Jimin and Jin’s misbegotten hours here. She doesn’t think Hobi’s name, although she knows it.

God does she know it.

She’s poured over all the files that her men have collected about your pack for weeks now. Searching out weaknesses like a snake searches rabbit holes for soft fur and an easy meal. She’d spent the most time lingering over Tae’s file. The photos that shift from short hair to long, lipstick that she finds too pink and distasteful.

Red is better color.

She'd spent a long time pouring over Jin’s too because she’d needed to. Jimin and her cousins had been glossed over. She already knows enough about them to last a lifetime.

But only one file had given her paper cuts. Revenge on paper is not as sweet as it should be.

She doesn’t need to read that file anymore. Although she hears the words that the youth said so many months ago on repeat, you and Hobi in the coffee shop caught only on security camera. “I think I heard something I shouldn’t have”. As well as the ones that followed.

Contrary to popular belief, Moonbyul doesn’t like killing. She views it only as a necessity. She looks at the blood on the floor without any disgust. It’s been a long time since she’s cleaned up any alpha's mess, and she’s not going to start now.

She looks down at the blood and smiles. It’s a rare thing- seeing her smile. It’s different from her grin that bares her teeth. Sharped incisors changed and honed just before she’d been appointed the head of the moon family.

She remembers her mother's words when she’d looked at them in the mirror for the first time, She remembers that she could still taste the file they'd used to carve them. Metallic, like blood on her tongue.

“All the most dangerous alphas have fangs; you’ll need to learn to use them if you want to fill your father’s shoes.”

Familial death is more of a rite of passage than a time for mourning in the family. A time when power shifts and secrets get covered up or aired out. Like the moon waxing and waning.

Moonbyul hadn’t been born with fangs, the way alphas always are. Moonbyul hadn’t been born with a lot of things.

A smiling Moonbyul is either a happy or a bloodthirsty one. And a happy Moonbyul, when properly stroked- means they get privileges.

Privileges in their pack, amount to small little things most of the time. A night where they don’t have to take the heat inducers. A night where they can wear comfy sweats instead of the lingerie and stifling silk. But if they're extra sweet and good they get better things. A free evening where they can see their families as long as they come home before sunrise.

“Do you think he’s dead?” Solar is dressed as her clone today, with stockings pulled up her milky thighs flashing beneath the long hem. Extra extra cute in the way that she loops her arm into Moonbyuls and pouts. as if she's upset that her alpha is paying more attention to the murder than her.

She still smells faintly of sex, moonbyul, and her own ginger scent. Not like fresh cut- the kind that baked goods have around Christmas time.

Moonbyul smiles, rapping her long nails against where Solar's arm is curled around hers clinging to her as if her life depends on it. It does- Moonbyul and her both know it does. But Solar has always been a good pet. She’s never needed quite as much correction as Wheein who likes to know exactly where her cage ends and begins, or like Hyejin- who needs nearly as much combatting and careful maneuvering as their enemies.

She'd learned from Hyejin. Had never let the others have quite as much freedom or get used to challenging her. There's a reason why Hyejin had demanded to wear her mating mark and why Moonbyul had let her have it.

Omega's however sweet and however docile, still need a cage. Moonbyul's only ever tried to branch out of her tastes once, and she won't ever do it again. Disastrous as alphas are. They make piss-poor lovers and disobedient needy pets.

She sighs. Alphas and their messes.

In truth, the pack could use someone truly obedient, someone for whom being good is as easy as breathing to balance them out. The pack could use a good pup. The pack could use you.

Moonbyul burns in want, stewing in it ravenous. It’s not love, it’s not even really lust either. She’s never been an easily sated person. She’s always wanted too much, always finished the whole pint of ice cream in one sitting. She’s always wanted everything.

That’s why she’s smiling, because she’s about to get it.

She stands a little straighter, holding out her palm. “Why don’t we go see.” Moonbyul doesn’t turn to leave, however. She doesn't walk towards the body dumped at the back of the building, still bearing Jin's fingerprints. A single strand of hair would do it. She doesn’t make any move other than to reach into her pocket and take out a lighter.

She thinks of the family's assassins; The Bee, The Spider and The Wolf. She thinks of Park Jimin. The snake. Hopefully either dead or in the process of dying.

The body in the back of the building is another one of hers. She never thought that this would be the end of the Wolf, he'd always been one of their most reliable killers. Always showed up on time too, an exemplary employee. Not to be easily duped. She'll have to figure this out and pin down What did him in. But that will take time and energy, only one of which she has.

He was only supposed to wait in the wings and ensure that neither Park Jimin nor Kim Seokjin left this building alive, nothing more.

Sometimes things are just coincidences, sometimes if you're lucky- they're just bad luck.

This doesn't feel like bad luck, this feels like revenge.

Solar makes a noise in her throat, a questioning chirp. She really is trying to be her cutest right now. Moonbyul won’t reward her in a way that she likes, a way that she wants. Even songbirds still feel the itch to fly. Clipped wings and all.

She looks at the flame, sparking.

“Why won’t you just leave the evidence? Wouldn’t that be easier?” Solar is not as good as Hyejin at handling this sort of thing, not as experienced. But she’s currently handling other more important things. Things that need her finer touch.

Solar doesn’t understand why Moonbyuls going to light this place up like a fucking Christmas tree and do Seokjin’s dirty work for him. Solar is only a pup, and she’s been kept like that because Moonbyul likes pupish omegas.

She likes the innocence and obedience that people who weren't made for this kind of life have. So eager to please that they're willing to debase their souls. There is no greater sacrifice, no greater sign of love than someone willing to do anything for you.

This also happens to be why she likes you. Why she will have you. because neither Solar nor Wheein have ever been as good at this as you were. The perfect medium between sinful and pious. Cute even while killing.

And 5 is a prettier number than 4. 3 pups for her and Hyejin is a prettier number than 2. They need more than one for each.

Just one more pup, and then their collection will be complete. It took them so long to find the right one, so much trial and error. (Moonbyul despises errors. She's going to try and kill one before this is through)

She won’t let you slip through their grasp, not a second time. You should have never been Yoongi's.

“Wouldn’t it be easier to leave this as evidence? So that the FBI gets them all? We could just like- buy them off if they wanted to take her too-”

“Oh pup” she croons, half gentle. Flicking the lighter and letting it burn in front of her face before she tosses it The soil is so soaked through with gasoline that it lights as easily as a candle, slowly spreading from wall to wall and then- in the doorway, until the heat is too much and they have to move away.

“That wouldn’t be any fun now, would it?”

~-~

(Now, Namjoon)

Namjoon’s shirt is soaked so thoroughly with blood that it makes him cold. The hospital always feels cold, goosebumps rise like a mini mountain ranges on his arms. The hair pressed down where the blood has dried.

It’s not his first time covered in blood, but this time feels different.

He’s shivering, teeth clattering. His hands shake almost too bad to fill out the intake paperwork because he’d rather do it now than later. Park Jimin (registered, Kim) Alpha, weight 165 lbs (give or take a few). Blood type AB. No medications. No known allergies, no known prior conditions. No no no.

No.

Namjoon’s hands shake. He leaves Jimin’s ‘occupation’ blank.

Yoongi sits a few paces back, staring vacantly off into space. On the surface Namjoon would assume that he’s having no reaction and is feeling absolutely heartless about everything that's happened in the last 3 hours. But his breath becomes stuttered every few minutes, like he has to manually force himself to inhale and exhale. Like it’s taking all of Yoongi’s faculties to keep himself breathing and upright and not in a heap on the floor having a mental breakdown.

He kind of wishes Yoongi was crying and screaming instead. Then at least- Namjoon would feel like he had to be the strong one.

He can't get the feeling of stabbing Jimin out of his head, or the sound it it, the wet squelch of knife hitting skin.

Namjoon has cut into people thousands if not hundreds of thousands of times by now. But he’s only cut into someone he loves once, and god Namjoon never wants to do it again- won’t ever be able to touch warm prone flesh and hurt it, not after Minnie. Never again.

The pen in his hand weighs a million pounds. He contemplates asking for a piece of paper and writing out his resignation letter. he breathes in for 5 and out for 9, then sets it down on the clipboard and slides it across the counter for the nurse to take. Namjoon doesn’t hear her quiet tone asking him if he's alright and if there's anything she can do. just shakes his head on instinct.

There is a gaggle of nurses looking around the corner peering at Dr. Kim.

"Do you think he dresses like that outside of work hours?" "I never thought I'd be so attracted to jeans and a tee-shirt." Giggling in quiet voices.

It feels so strange, to hear people laughing while Jimin is dying. Namjoon almost wants to go bite their heads off and report them for poor bedside manner to the hospital manager.

This is Namjoon’s hospital. But Namjoon can’t find it in himself to smile or say thank you to the nurse when she tells him that the second she gets any news on Jimin, he'll be the first to know. He can’t say anything through the mountain of emotion in his throat.

If Namjoon’s love is a mountain, then his anguish is a river threatening to drown him. Yoongi smells like it- the line where water turns clear to brackish, Yoongi’s miserable scent has always smelled like the churning sea and now something that feels an awful lot like seasickness makes Namjoon sway on his feet.

Since he’s done with the paperwork, he promptly returns to Yoongi’s side and sits down. Only once he's sure he's stationary, does he pull a nearby wastebasket over between his knees to upend the contents of his stomach. It hits the top of old gauze pads crumpled up at the bottom and smelling like piss with a surprisingly violent sound, drawing the gaze of more than one person in the waiting room. At least it finally quiets the giggles.

Yoongi’s hand finds Namjoon’s knee, the hole in his jeans, The back of his ribs, stroking once twice. steady and hard the way that Namjoon likes. And Namjoon wishes he could snap at Yoongi. Wishes he didn’t curl into the touch. Wishes he was angrier. Wishes Jimin was perfectly alive and breathing and not going to-

Yoongi’s hand settles on the back of Namjoon’s neck, his throat, pulse hammering, thudding.

They’re just kids and Yoongi's hands are calloused. They've always been.

Deep down Namjoon still feels like he’s only 8 years old. Is just a kid and just starting to understand that the world isn’t all just papercuts and skinned knees; that it means something when people hurt. That it means something when you tell them you won’t let them hurt anymore.

He remembers promising Jimin something similar- a long time ago, the summer they all first met:

Namjoon remembers Jimin, standing in the apartment that wasn't theirs yet, after a movie night, the first movie night that the pack had ever had togeather (not totally togeather, becuase you and hobi hadn't been there yet but still).

It was the first time Namjoon had ever seen Jimin in something other than a designer sweater, sweats and a tee-shirt so ordinary that Namjoon was surprised it didn't make him look less intimidating. standing in the doorway waiting for Namjoon to notice him and look up from his medical journal.

"Yes Minnie? Did you need something?" jimin had shifted from foot to foot. looking up at jimin, a first slice of vulnerability in his eyes.

"Tae and Jungkook, they've got a bit of pain in them. I want to know what you intend to do with it." namjoon set his glasses to the side, the papers rustling as he forgets his reason.

"Make it better hopefully?" Namjoon had been struck with how oddly intense he'd been. Jimin had opened up with time and had gone sweet and trusting with the right amount of love. But he'd looked intimidating in his dark clothes and the wrinkle between his eyes like he was used to furrowing his eyebrows. A cute detail that Namjoon already wants to brush away. To touch. to cradle. To love.

He'll catalogue all of Park Jimin's cutest things in time. He'll treat love as a scavenger hunt, to find the softness in someone who tries so outwardly to be gruff and strong.

Namjoon's stained sleep clothes and promises felt all the more shabby in comparison.

"I need you to promise."

Namjoon had avoided it. Unwilling to meet his words with the same intensity. Jimin doesn't take chances with Jungkook and Tae. Tae's low laugh from the other room, Yoongi's matching grumble, overly fond already. Overly fond from the beginning.

"What about you? Doesn't everyone have pain?"

"Just promise."

"I promise to look after the three of you." Jimin had scoffed. Puffing up like a bird with too many feathers.

"I don't need looking after. Just them- when I go away for work."

"I know, but let me do it anyway." Smiling at the pretty alpha was so easy, so easy with the sounds of Jungkook and Jin's giggles in the other room. Laughter building itself into the walls around them.

"I promise not to hurt you or them. You have my word."

Namjoon lied, Namjoon lied back then and he didn't even know it. He upends his stomach again and Yoongi rubs down his spine.

“He’s not going to die Joon, he’s going to be fine.” Namjoon continues to empty his stomach, it’s pizza mostly, a bit of coffee, and a half-digested protein bar from this morning as well.

“Does hurting the people you love ever get easier?” Namjoon asks. Honesty, not anger in his tone.

Yoongi’s hair has gotten longer and hangs in his eyes. Yoongi never grew his hair out before you, always kept it in that short black sort of coconutty style. It makes him look older and all the more beautiful. Namjoon wonders if that’s why you like it; How regal it makes your mate look.

Yoongi has asked so much of Namjoon in the last few years, from leaving to coming back and bringing you. To hiding the mating mark and now this. Namjoon tells himself he should care more about Yoongi's lies and less about the fact that he just lied, period.

“No,” Yoongi grimaces. He always gets so quiet when things are bad, steady in that consistent way. He still hasn't stopped stroking Namjoon's back. Namjoon knows this is simply all Yoongi knows how to do, his first instinct is to love and not much else. “It was never easy.”

It’s not weird that they re-hash this now. Every time Namjoon learns more about how and why Yoongi left, he understands it more.

“I threw up too, just so you know- when I left, leaving you made me so sick that I hurled the second I got on that train. It was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do.” He blinks back wetness in his eyes, “I don't remember if I've ever told you that."

Namjoon nods. He can't remember right now either.

It’s been an hour or so now since Yoongi drove fast but steady steady steady to the hospital. Namjoon in the back while he stabilized Jimin in much the same fashion that you'd done earlier. The rest of the pack should be here soon. The three of you only lingered behind to clean up a bit and change your clothes, covered with blood and muck and who knows what else.

Yoongi sits like a statue and Namjoon can’t even look at him, can’t ask any questions or even start because he already feels like he’s yelling, and Namjoon hates yelling. This isn't isn’t exactly the most private venue for secrets that could land Jimin in jail.

Namjoon's still not entirely convinced that stabbing him was worth it. Namjoon’s brain is dizzy with terror. He’s still dizzy when he turns and sees you walking through the front doors to his hospital, Jin and Hobi trailing behind you.

He remembers the way you’d looked the day they’d gotten you checked out for the first time; how you’d run and pressed your face to his chest and buried your face there like just the sound of Namjoon's heart could make every demon and monster go away. For a moment, Namjoon thinks you might do the same thing. But your steps are measured, slow, and purposeful.

Namjoons eyes train on you, following you as you walk,

Yoongi stands, leaving Namjoon sitting with a cooling pail of vomit between his legs. he says something to you, to jin, but you don't pause, continuing until you're standing in front of him.

You don't say anything to him, just peer into the bucket and make a disgusted face down at it. Namjoon's teeth feel too sharp in his mouth with such a tense jaw.

Hoseok is on the phone, face gaunt and tired-looking. He must have drawn the short end of the stick and has the job of calling Jungkook and Tae and telling them what happened. They really shouldn’t drive themselves, but all Namjoon can reasonably do is restrain himself from cornering you and Jin and start demanding answers. 

He barely even turns to Jin when the omega goes up to the desk and asks if they can have a room, please. A private place for the pack to nurse their worries and not crowd the already-packed waiting room. Namjoon couldn’t name the nurse by name right now if he wanted to but he’s well known here and well-liked too. They give them one of the adjacent exam rooms to wait- Jimin’s surgery will take a few hours more, and there isn’t anything to do but wait.

Terrible terrible waiting, terrible terrible time. (You get a bucket when you want a drop and a drop when you want a deluge. Time only comes in two increments; too much or not enough.)

You drop a hand on Namjoon’s shoulder without a word. After some beckoning Namjoon follows you into the room. Legs shaking and sluggish at first. The pack is quiet even as the door closes. 

But once Namjoon's moving it’s hard to stop, careening like a comet or a bullet in your direction. Staggering.

You’d taken precious seconds to change your blood stained clothes before following Namjoon. You all pulled on the first things you could get your hands on. Which is how you’ve ended up in your mate’s shirt and Jungkook’s jacket, and how Hoseok’s in one of Tae’s extra-large pink sleep shirts stained from hair dye underneath Namjoon’s puffer coat and a pair of jungkook's grey work out sweats. Jin had been a little bit more purposeful- his sweatpants match- his matching purple set.

Namjoon's shirt is dark from blood, the bloodstain drying crusty, sticking to his skin like glue.

To say that Namjoon is angry is an understatement; rage rolls off of him in quiet unending ripples carrying with it the strength to change the pack for good if he’s not careful. He doesn't walk to the chairs no- he bee-lines it to you.

He watches you startle and turn, eyes widening. You do not make to move out of his path. 

Namjoon has never made you feel afraid before, but the pulse of it, the threat of fear is there as he backs you against the wall until your body lies against it. Looming over your head, so much taller and larger than you.

An alpha. An alpha hunting.

You tremble but you do not move to avoid him when he corners you.

He has a tiny bit of blood on his face, and a hairline splatter, almost like a constellation of stars across his temple. His fingers are harsh and shaking when they dig into your cheeks, pinching them until your lips open. Your knees tremble and you press your palm flat against the wall.

His scent thunders so thick and consuming that you can't physically stop yourself from trying to bear your throat. Namjoon stops you, holding you in place.

His eyes are dark and heavy-lidded as he looks down at you, He pinches your cheeks harder, shakinging you just a little. His voice is steady when he speaks, inches away from low snarl.

“Never make me hurt one of our packmates again.” You swallow, although it’s hard. And he pinches again- harder before you get a chance to speak- to try and defend why you brandished that knife at Jimin hours ago. Namjoon holds your face the same way he held the knife- tenderly.

“I mean it. Never.”

He holds you there for a second longer before he lets you go, leaving you gasping. His hand slides down your throat to your shoulder and neck, You would fall over if it wasn't for his touch keeping you up.

“I’m sorry.” You choke out, a few stingy tears making themselves known at the corner of your eyes. Namjoon rests his forehead against yours and closes his eyes. His spiky silver hair hits your skin. Rough.

After a second, he opens them again. Nodding. And his scent loses its bitter edge. He guides you to rest against his chest. You take big gasps of his scent now that he's giving you permission. Your instincts thunder through you so viciously that you can't physically stop yourself from tilting your neck and bearing your throat. 

Namjoon just drags a finger down it, humming. He holds you up, arms around you, a shield and a cage.

“It’s not okay.” I’m not okay, “but I forgive you.” Your knees do give out when Namjoon’s hand brushes the back of your neck, fingers digging in, a half hearted scruff that feels a bit like an apology of his own.

Even if he wants to be angry, anger won’t accomplish anything. Especially with you. His anger will only make you afraid and although Namjoon cannot be expected to control his emotions all the time, you have no reason to fear him.

He's never going to hurt you. He promised.

He walks you two strides, to put you into a chair next to Yoongi. Your mate takes you from him. The plastic chair makes a loud scraping noise against the linoleum floor. Jin's on your other side looking just as tired as the rest of you.

You'll get no rest tonight, sleeping in Jimin's hospital room when he gets out of surgery. Every fitful dream interrupted by the oxygen monitor on his arm. the first few hours when it will go off twice and prompt examination of his vasculature and operation site as well as a fresh dose of blood thinners. The biggest danger going forward will be blood clots; one too large in jimin's arm could leave his hand with nerve damage, numb for good.

But for now, Namjoon looks down at you, yoongi, and jin sitting in the plastic chairs. Secret, killer, and agent. All there in a pretty little row. Namjoon glares down at the three of you and crosses his arms.

“Explain.” Namjoon can’t wait another minute, another second. “Explain to me everything going on in my pack that I don't know about right now or I swear I'll-"

Yoongi scoffs, "That you'll what? That you'll tear us apart Namjoon? that you'll leave? Look around you- we're already falling to pieces." 

"You don't honestly expect me not to be angry that I had to stab jimin do you-"

"No, but don't yell at her. I have my limits."

"I wish I was one of those limits, but i'm clearly not since you insist on fucking over our pack-"

Jin turns, cutting them off from their argument with the true shock of his next words. You know that's what he's intending- but it sort of backfires. "Joonie, Don't get mad at Yoongi or her for this. Especially since I'm the one who shot Jimin. It was an accident."

You flinch, then put your head in your hands, namjoon's scent goes impossibly thick and angry for a second before he gets it under control. You physically watch Namjoon's hackles raise. watch Yoongi push back in his chair, leg jumping, running his hands through his hair looking from you to Jin, then back again.

"Jin, you should have kept that to yourself."

"What the fuck-"

Namjoon looks like he doesn't know weather to cry or laugh. "You don't just shoot someone on accident-"

Jin's got the best scoff, one worthy of music screens not just the quiet tomb of this room. Your relationship that's dying all around you. "You don't just stab someone on accident either and yet here we are-"

There are some secrets you take to the grave and others that you keep for too long, so long that they make a grave out of you. Keeping secrets is like keeping someone else's heart beating, you run out of blood eventually. 

You might vomit up the truth all over the hospital floor just like Namjoon did a few minutes ago. You feel sick and light-headed and sort of like you might have low blood sugar. namjoon's scent, angry alpha affects you more than you realize.

You start to teater, and their next biting words get extinguished when you almost fall out of the chair, nearly sliding to the floor before Namjoon catches you. One knee dully aches as he picks you up like you weigh nothing, ducking in close, real concern in his face, all his anger gone.

"Shit are you okay?"

"Pup?"

"Just got lightheaded-" Whatever it was, your lightheadedness will have to wait for another time. It's honestly probably just stress. Your heart feels like it's beating extra fast, extra hard.

Namjoon places you gently back in the chair and Yoongi touches your shoulder, the trio of their concerned faces that you swat away.

"We should wait for Hobi." You still owe him an explanation- for earlier and these aren't the kind of secrets you say more than you have to. A cup of water gets thrust into your hands and for once, they fall silent.

When Hobi comes in he’s mostly quiet holding his phone in his hand. Looking at you from across the room. His soulful eyes watching you, head tipping to the side in deference.

"Tae's in-" It takes him a second to gather his words. "Tae's in a fucking state. She was crying so hard that Jungkook had to call them an Uber. I just told her Jimin had been stabbed and nothing else because I didn't know what to tell her."

"That's probably for the best we don't have to-" your mate starts, but Namjoon cuts him off.

"No, no more secrets. Not between any of us."

Hoseok still has a hickey from you on the side of his neck, from you earlier. Jin's fingers skim down the one on your shoulder where a mirrored mark sits knocking you out of your Hobi-induced reverie, red and bruising from his mouth. Jin raises his eyebrow at you, but now is not the time to tell him about you and hobi.

"We've got like- maybe 30 minutes until they get here."

You swallow past a lump in your throat, readying yourself for it, “better make it quick then,” Namjoon waits, Seokjin is silent, watching you, gaze flickering from you to Hobi every few blinks. Yoongi holds onto your knee, sliding his palm down to your hand, your wrist. Finger digging into the sensitive scent gland there and rubbing comforting circles.

You swallow hard. “We’re all on each other's sides, right?”

“Of course,” Jin crosses his arms like he's offended you even had to ask. You bite back your retort. Namjoon nods, so does Hobi.

Your hair flops as you nod. But you still look to Yoongi to wait for permission. After a breath your mate nods and spreads his hands, giving you the floor.

If there’s one thing you know it’s that you can’t do this alone, you and Yoongi, Namjoon and Jin, Jimin and Tae. You and Hobi. There is no separation here, not when it comes to your safety. Each of you cannot keep the rest safe on your own.

“I met Jimin a few months before I met Yoongi, I…Yoongi’s family-”

Yoongi resists the temptation to speak for about 10 seconds when you fall silent. You can sense the moment that the truth shifts, when it explodes at Yoongi’s tongue. Unbidden but frantic and relieving like it's taken Yoongi's whole being to keep all this in.

“My family, I've never liked calling them that. Blood means nothing to me, you guys, you guys were always my family more than them." The pack is silent but you lace your hands with his and nudge his thigh with yours, encouraging him to go on.

"My relatives run the largest network of organized crime on the East Coast, from Boston to Miami. Everything from racketeering to prostitution to production and distribution of pharmaceutical-grade opioids. cover ups, sale of illegal weapons, extorsion of political officials and blackmail. If you can think of a crime they do it. If you can think of a way to make money, they've got their hands in it. It’s one of the reasons why I don’t go home- why my parents-”

Yoongi breaks off, his voice going small and quiet. Wounds he doesn’t talk about- even to you.

“There’s maybe 200 of us now. I’ve got a lot of fucking aunts and uncles. We try to stay in our lanes, our cities, and deal only in our respective crimes. There's a lot of politics and a lot of people vying for control here and there, but only alphas are allowed to lead, omega's increases the bonds of power in other ways and beta's- You know how rare beta's are- in my family- i'm treated as second only to the family head. Being a beta offered me certain liberties. Other freedoms. Not only to avoid most of the violent stuff- but to leave and move around without asking for permission. It's like a get out of hell free card. Not everyone gets that."

You snort, crossing your arms over your chest, “You mean they didn’t exactly expect you to go about popping heirs or advancing the family business through murder and ruining innocent people's lives. not like they expected with me."

Hoseok shrivels his nose, He looks from you to Yoongi- eyebrows furrowing in confusion. “hang on i thought- Are you guys trying to say you’re fucking related or-”

“Oh my god daisy-”

You splutter, “gross- No, we’re not fucking like- blood-related or anything.” You tap your chest. "I'm non family- brought in from the outside. Which means I was just about as valuable as piss to the aunts. In our world the only reason to mate or marry is for power- any other reason and your spouse is considered disposable." you cross your legs, admitting something you've kept to yourself, not a secret just a suspicion. "Geumjae never intended to keep me around forever."

Seokjin makes a strangled noise and Namjoon runs his hands through his hair, “Jesus Christ.”

Hobi raises his hands bare, “Sorry! You’re not doing a good job of explaining!”

"Well, if you just gave me a minute to get to the point-" Yoongi seems to shake himself, to put himself together. “Like she said- I'm not expected to partake in the family buisness, Only alphas are allotted that 'honor'." Yoongi puts the words in quotations and adds an eye roll for good measure.

"Mainly- I’m treated as some sort of glorified advice Column. People call and ask me things and I’m required to answer or else they’d hunt me down and drag me back. They bring me in to coordinate stuff because I'm a beta and I keep everyone calm and keep them from killing each other and shooting out their squabbles. I tried to keep you guys safe that’s why I left but-“

Jin’s hand goes to yours, nodding, because he understands. “But not why you stayed away.”

“No. It's not.” The pack's eyes naturally stray to you.

“The heads of houses report to the family head and she directs them to me if they need a beta's touch. Only she hasn't- the new Don hasn't asked anything of me since taking power. When the last one died- my grandparents- I left to help with the transition. But the new Don doesn't need me."

You flinch, you try to hide it but Yoongi turns, ferreting out that there's a secret there without you having to confess it. Your voice is darker than they’ve ever heard. "It's not that she doesn't need you- it's that she doesn't trust you."

Yoongi tries not to sound accusatory. "Her trust isn't something you should be after."

“It’s not- promise I just-” You pick at a stray thread on your pants.

The linoleum floor in front of you is polished so clean that you can see your reflection in it. "She shouldn't trust me either- and she knows it. Believe me she knows it."

Now it's Yoongi's turn to look at you. To pull himself to the edge of his chair to try and get in front of you. A wordless question that he dares not speak.

"Before you, I was already trying to do whatever I had to survive. including doing what everyone else did back in that hellhole and ask for help-"

Yoongi stands, to much energy and panic in his body to stay seated. “You didn’t." This is a fight and a confession you shouldn’t have In front of the rest of them.

You look up at Yoongi, eyes beseeching. He's quiet and you make your words as measured and soft as you can. "I asked your grandparents first- and then when she told me as long as I did what she said she'd get me out I-"

“She’s more dangerous than Geumjae, you can’t have honestly been trying to trade one captor for another."

The whole pack is silent, watching the two of you. Not really understanding. But Jin- Jin pursues his lips. You don't know how he knows but he does.

Yoongi’s face goes truly white. Yoongi’s hands are shaking. Shaking until he grabs the handles of your chair, knees to the ground, bowed in front of you. Letting your silence stew for a second.

Maybe it’s a terrible thing to blame it on her, you hadn’t fought not to kill. But back then it had really felt like your only way out, the only way to escape the ever-suffocating pressure of trying not to die.

“For what it’s worth, I had no idea what they meant to you when she made me help her kill them.”

Something shifts in Yoongi’s stature, from surprise and shock to resignation so quickly you almost miss it. A tense set to his jaw but a tight-lipped understanding as his eyes flicker from your eyes to your lips and he rests his forehead on your knees.

He's very careful in his words. Slow with them and intentional when he lifts his head and stands. You don't know if they're lies. “Just like my parents, just like all of us in the family, I knew their days were numbered anyway.” But you loved them once you want to say. You’re not sure why you want Yoongi to be angry at you.

“I won’t apologize, not for what I had to do to survive.”

Yoongi cradles your cheek. Something dark and conflicted in his eyes.

“I know, but I’d forgive you anyway, even if you did it out of anger.”

“And Jimin?” Namjoon asks, Yoongi's hand drops from your cheek. "How does he connect to all of that?"

“I met him first, I asked him.” You hesitate. This isn't your secret to tell and you don't even know all of it- like how jimin even became an assassin or started killing. you don't know his motives. It's one thing to confess your own sins, and another to talk about Jimin's to them without his say-so.

Jin darts forward, holding your hand in both of his, “Whatever we say in this room- I’d never dream of recording. I’m not on anyone’s side but ours.” Jin screws his eyes shut tight, willing you and Yoongi to believe him. "Even with the FBI thing."

Namjoon whirls. He doesn't have to ask before Jin's spilling it. telling the truth.

Jin is measured with his speech, but it's his turn. No more secrets, that's what you've all agreed. "I've been working with the FBI for the last 8 years. They approached me back before we met Joonie- because of my proximity to Yoongi. First as an informant, then an agent and now the head of the task force.

"I only did it because I figured out that being a part of them was the easiest way to keep Yoongi out of jail. As long as I could reasonably assume I was the only one trusted and close enough to keep an eye on him, I could keep all the truly damning evidence out of their hands."

Jin turns to you, resisting the urge to reach out to you for his own comfort, you're looking at him like he's got three heads, but he smiles down at you, that pup-soft smile that he saves just for you when you're both nesting.

"I kept your name off of the photocopies of the recipie you used to kill them. Don't worry, no one but us knows." You look at Jin with new eyes, not a double agent but not an enemy either. Somewhere in between. Your heart pulses, and you grip his hand back.

Yoongi pulls his hands through his hair, angry, his tone grave "Well there's your reason-"

Hobi has been so quiet you've honestly almost forgotten he was there. Elbows balanced on his knees and watching the three of you on trial for Namjoon. "Answer to what."

"You don't understand Jin, you don't understand the laws of the family much less the one you've broken."

"The reason why someone's trying to kill you, if anyone finds out that Y/n killed them- everyone connected to them is fair game."

"You mean-"

"We're all done, if anyone finds out, that's probably why the new head of house was trying to take Jin out- to tie up a loose end."

"Hang on, I'm getting confused again." Hobi runs his hands through his hair, and it fluffs up. "Jimin's what again?"

“Jimin is an assassin, I asked Jimin to kill my husband for me but he said no.” You pick at a strand of thread on your pants, unwilling to look up and meet any of their eyes, not Namjoon’s or Jin’s. “Met him back when we meant nothing to each other. He still feels guilty for not saving me. We talked it out a while ago. It’s okay- I did it myself eventually- didn’t need anyone’s help.”

You look up at Yoongi and he looks like he might want to laugh or cry and can't pick which. “I don’t know much else about Jimin other than that he kills for the family."

"They've got people for everything, a few assassin's they keep on retainer," Yoongi clarifies. "People that anyone can hire if you've got the money for it. There are a few names that the family puts on a no-kill list, Children, the pack mates of the ruling pack, the heads of houses and their immediate packmates. If anyone kills a person on the no-kill list- their life is forfeit. I'm on it by default. The pack mates of the beta are on it too, All of you are on it. No one should be trying to kill you."

Yoongi's never paid much attention to the list, the waxing and waning names and faces and photos. he's been on it since before he was born and with no intent to kill or harm anyone and put himself even potentially in harm's way, he's never sought it out.

Maybe if he had, things would go differently.

A cold rush of realization rushes over you. "That's why Jimin and Jin ended up there" You stand up, adrenaline in your hands. "She was hoping they'd take each other out so she wouldn't have to break family law to kill them."

Yoongi shakes his head, "Something about this doesn’t feel right- something about this isn’t normal.”

Hobi’s phone dings before you can hash it out anymore. He looks down in his lap. “They're here,” he’s up and out of the chair, heading out the door and into the hall so quickly that the rest of you have to chase after him. Namjoon tugs you to your feet, staring at Yoongi and Jin. "Was that enough?" you ask.

"We'll talk more later." is all he says. But he does lace his hands with yours and pull you after Hobi. Your legs are so short you have to take two steps for every one of theirs.

“I wish Tae and Kookie were here for that-“

"They should know” your mate agrees, keeping pace with you in the hallway, dropping back with you when Namjoon accidentally lets go in his haste to get through the door. You make eye contact with Yoongi when you turn. Your back to one of those push doors using your body weight to push through it.

You pause, waiting with Yoongi on the other side of them.

“If anyone tells her about Minnie- should be me.”

(You know exactly how you’ll do it, you’ll tell Tae the story of you just like this. You’ll tell it like a story, with author notes and playlists near the end. You’ll talk about Jimin just like this; all of the good parts and all of the bad all in one. So that she might truly understand that having a choice doesn't always mean you're free to do whats right.)

Yoongi nods, “I can tell Jungkook. I think if I do it gently, he won’t get shocked enough to have a seizure.”

You pause before the doors open, to have just a moment with the two of you, just you and him leaning against it. He shifts closer, not holding you, hands by his side but he's close enough that you could rest your head on his shoulder. You do rest your head on his shoulder. Just to hear his heartbeat thud sluggish and heaven-sent against your ear.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there.” It feels like it’s been ages and ages since you’ve had a quiet moment with him like this. You resolve to have one, to make space for him when this is all over. A private date with just the two of you maybe. Whenever Jimin comes home. “To help with Jimin.”

“It’s okay. I’m sorry I killed your grandparents.”

“They weren’t good people,” Yoongi shrugs, you've never seen a sadder shrug. “I always knew that. They-” yoongi breaks off, stealing himself for a quiet confession. "I think they might have had a hand in killing my parent. She didn't like it- that they had so much power over me. Future of the family and all."

"You've never said-"

Yoongi pushes through the door, and a high pitched keening cuts off your next words. "Later."

You push through the door and Tae and Jungkook are already there. Entering through the outside doors with a puff of air into Namjoon and Jin's waiting arms. Namjoon holds Tae up as she wails and wails. Her cry high like a nightingale. Jungkook looks pale and shaky, settled under Hobi's shoulder clearly in shock.

You cut through them, ducking under Jin's outstretched arm and colliding with Tae before anyone else can join Namjoon in holding her. falling to little heap on the linoleum floor, just at the precipice of the long hallway that connects to the patient rooms and the nurse's stations to other surgical suites. Drawing countless stars, countless looks from passersby as Tae's sobs renew themselves, loud and broken.

You clinging to each other. Her arms around your shoulders, cradling your head like it's the last safe thing in the universe.

“Jimin,” her voice breaks, throat closing around nothing. Sobs wet and angry, hot tears dripping down her cheeks, big and unabated by hope. "Minnie- My Minnie-"

You cling back, getting your hands on her cheeks. “He’s gonna be fine, he’ll be alright- here- here let me help you up. We've got you Tae-”

Jungkook looks a bit better, a little bit less like he’s drowning. Jin reaches for him while you hold onto Tae. And JK’s nostrils flare, he steps back, looking Jin up and down. Tae clings to you on the floor of the hospital and you look up at them. At Jin and Jungkook, standing a pace apart. Jungkook's hands keep Jin from coming any closer.

“You smell like Jimin does when he comes home from his trips, you smell like gunpowder. And mucky-” Jungkook's voice breaks, "Jin? Why do you smell like blood?"

There are too many people around, too many people for something like this. You're just glad It’s a quiet omission, Jungkook’s scent is level and so is his breath.

Maybe you should give him a lot more credit. Yoongi might not have to tell him much.

Tae's tears hit your collarbones as she crushes you, sobbing loudly in your ear, immune to the string of sweet nothings that fall from your lips. Whispered against her temple.

To everyone else in the hallway, rushing in the late-night hum, you and Tae look just the way that you’d expect; Two girls clinging to each other, one tall and the other short. One an alpha and the other an omega.

The rest of the pack is so blinded by their concern and their terror that they don’t look up. They don’t look down the hall to see the figure standing there watching them. One second the hallway is empty of the dark figure and then next she's there- waiting for you.

Her pine and medicine scent is disguised by the smell of death that lingers here. Although more than 2 of the people there might recognize it if they had the patience to sniff it out. They're too distracted by Yoongi dragging Jungkook close and whispering in his ear to keep his voice down.

Moonbyul watches the scene from the end of the hall. Two coffees in her hands. One for her and one for you because she always assumes that you'll go with her when she asks. No matter what’s going on with your pack, Moonbyul is not the kind of person who you say no to. She’ll ask nicely for you to come one more time.

Or so she thought. Looking at you and Tae holding each other is giving her other ideas.

To love a man is something she's always been able to dismiss as a mistake. Little pups just don't know what they need and even less what they want. She'd been prepared to deal with you loving them, the alphas, on paper, even the admittedly pretty omega male currently in her cousin's arms.

But another woman? Even one like that?

Rage is not like other sorts of anger, it’s not like fire burning to take. Achieng to burn until all the heat has worked itself out. Rage is quiet, rage is darkness and a hunger that needs to consume. That will destroy even if you try to stop it.

It's one thing to know that you love a woman besides her, and another to see you peck kisses along her tearstained cheeks. The rage builds as she watches you cup that female alpha’s cheeks. She watches you brush her hair back from her eyes and tuck it behind her ears. She’s got honeyed skin and smudged lipstick (so inelegant) you wipe her tears away and kiss her cheek.

But what makes Moonbyul’s hands tighten into claws, her metal-tipped nails piercing the coffee cups and making them drip onto the ground, wet and hot, is the way you smile at her.

Moonbyul’s rage is like a tidal wave.

By the time the rest of the pack looks up, the hallway is empty except for a puddle of coffee on the linoleum floor and two discarded cups. One with red lipstick stains and the other without.

~-~

(18 hours later, Jimin)

Tae’s cheek is so soft. That’s the first thing that Jimin’s aware of as he wakes from surgery.

Coming out of general anesthesia feels like being a rickety buoy on the busy ocean. One second bobbing to the surface and the next crashing below the waves and taking on water. Sloshy. Everything feels sloshy.

He only feels her at first- not the hospital bed, not the scratchy sheets, Just the feeling of her cheek resting against the palm of his hand. Her gentle breath tickling his fingers in her sleep.

Jimin will always know the particular beat and cadence of Tae’s body. Would know it if the sun got snuffed out like a candle. Would know her breath anywhere because it’s the very fuel to Jimin’s soul, the very thing that sets the tempo to the heart monitor beating out a pleasant rhythm in the midafternoon hum.

Her skin is pillowy and sweet beneath Jimin’s flayed fingers, limp and cold to the touch because of the whole almost bleeding out thing. He doesn’t know it yet, but he's needed 9 units of blood in the past 24 hours. 4 right away, and 3 during the surgery where they removed the knife and stitched his arm together. And another two units just after.

Compared to his own body, Tae feels so warm.

At least Jimin can still feel his left hand. The doctors that stitched him back together must have done a bang-up job, Namjoon even more so. a lot of people can put an arm back together, a whole slew of them, but not many surgeons could stab someone carefully enough so as to not permanently injure them. There are only so many people that he would trust to stab him.

But Jimin trusts Namjoon with a whole lot more than just that.

When he opens his eyes (a task of herculean proportions) Namjoon isn’t there, it’s just Tae in one of those absurdly uncomfortable hospital chairs. She’s bent over his hospital bed in what must surely be an uncomfortable position to sleep in. Her back arched like invisible wings weigh her down. She slept like that, sprawled as close as she could get to Jimin without the nurses waking her up and telling her not to crowd him.

The smudged mascara on her cheeks flake like falling stars, little trails there were tears rendered it useless. Jimin wipes away a black droplet like he's banishing a ghost. She’s cried so much over the last 10 hours, most of her makeup gone and sporting a bit of 5 o’clock shadow too. The faint roughness that Jimin feels no more than once. Because to derive sensory pleasure from that feels…wrong.

He looks at the ceiling, wondering where the others are. He feels the edge of his body, the spot where the wound begins and the pain ends. Who knew gunshots and stab wounds could make you feel so sore? and tired too? Exhaustion pins his body to the bed like a butterfly to a corkboard.

A wire connected to his good hand tugs, But he ignores it in favor of cradling Tae's head and combing through the tangles in her hair. It's gotten so long now, just to her shoulders, but the bits feel so soft and gauzy against his fingertips. He wishes he could feel it forever. It’s much much better than the 5 o’clock shadow.

It takes a dozen passes for Tae to stir.

And then she startles awake, flinching into being. Fresh tears disrupt the mascara flecks as she beholds her soulmate and nearly tugs herself across his bed to get her hands on his face. To hold his cheeks.

To say that Tae has looked better would be accurate for jimin to say but the words would never grace Jimin’s lips. Not even close. Even with a crusty face and greasy hair- Tae looks gorgeous- so pretty that his heart pulses dangerously quickly. so quickly that jimin's suprised the nurses don't come by and check on him.

Maybe they haven’t given him enough opioids for his shoulder because for a second he feels his heartbeat ricochet through his whole body. To his fingers where he's touching her and back to his heart. Every echo and ripple Tae Tae Tae.

Tae bends over Jimin’s body. Her hands go to his face, fingers touching his smile, and thumbs pressed to his faint crow's feet and twinkling eyes. Clutching at him like he’s her lifeline (he is, a red string of fate that keeps her from drowning, always. She was stupid not to use it like an anchor).

“Pup told me.” She says, a note of finality in her voice, lower lip trembling, tears falling anew “told me you kept talking about me even when you were stabbed" she goes quiet, whispering the words like she's scared someone might be listening in.

"Pup told me everything."

Jimin’s eyes flick from her lips to her face, her body, everything. His hands are trembling, chest building with breaths until they’re heaving and the realization of just how much everything she must know hits him.

Tae knows Jimin well enough to know what a panic attack looks like- knows enough how to soothe it. Knows just to hold on and wait for it to pass. jimin's hands splay and flex, rubbing her skin once, twice, and then a third time in an effort to self-soothe.

"It's okay,"

"You mean you're not-" Jimin's heart monitor is going so wild that Tae has to tell him to calm down. Has to run her fingers up and down his scent glands on his neck, nipping at them to settle him. "You're not angry that I'm-"

That I'm a killer, that I'm a monster. That I've kept everything from you. Jimin readies himself, preparing himself for the speech he always knew he'd have to give. You don't understand, I didn't have a choice, I wouldn't have chosen this- I didn't I just. I never killed people who didn't deserve it- because I know that you'd hate that.

For the first time in their lives, Tae and Jimin are sitting across from each other- without a single secret to each of their consciousness. both of them free and perilously unmoored for it.

But there are no words that Tae needs when she looks up at him and smiles. Wetness at the corner of her eyes.

Seeing Jimin in the hospital bed had not felt like Patroclus and Achilles, it hadn't even felt like Orpheus and Eurydice. There was no roaring anguish. The kind that follows when people leave you too soon. Or the bitter vindication that happens when people leave at just the right time (it’s the worst when people leave like that. Either linger or make me miss you. Stay too long or leave me early. Either way is fine. I’ll feel more human if I’ve got longing or hatred to feel).

In truth seeing Jimin in the hospital bed, wires and hooks connected to him- keeping him alive and keeping him breathing, had felt like a second chance. She's not going to let something as simple as a secret spoil it.

Tae knows she should want to know more about Jimin's job as an assassin and should want to ask more questions (if not to understand her soulmate better, than for writing material). She Should be more revolted or disturbed or upset that her literal soulmate kills people for a living, but at the moment, all she can find in herself is just to be glad that Jimin is fucking alive.

It’s funny, how much your priorities can shift.

Jimin looks like he doesn't believe her. "Tae, you can't even kill spiders."

"Would you care?" Jimin falls silent. "Would you care if it was me in your position?"

Jimin swallows hard and winces. He doesn’t have to ask for a sip of water, because Tae has already gotten it for him by the time his good hand closes over his throat. His shoulder is bound so tightly in bandages that he can hardly shift it. Can't reach up to stop himself from spilling a bit of the water down his chin. Her nails (red polished and chipped) wipe away a drop on his lips.

(There's more that you weren't able to tell her just yet; a lot about you and Yoongi and Jin. You've decided to save the bulk of how Jimin ended up in the hospital bed until after Jimin woke up. Later when you can get her on her own you'll tell her. Probably after Jimin's discharged from the hospital. But the other secrets can wait for now).

It won’t really hit her until later. When she’s in her closet looking at all of her pretty things and designer clothes. Fingers toeing along the fine black cashmere sweaters, to the maroon dresses, to the scarlet ones, stopping just before she reaches the pink. The Dior, the Versache, the McQueen. It will only be then that she'll put two and two together and realize they were all paid for with blood money. With people’s lives.

It will bother her then; it doesn’t bother her right now. It will never bother her enough to think about leaving jimin.

How do you make the choice? What to condemn a loved one for? How do you pin down your line of intolerance when it's someone you love with your whole being? Can you decide at all or is it something that your soul chooses for you? The weight of one sin for another. what you're willing to go through.

They would have died anyway. Even if Jimin hadn't killed them, they had someone out there willing enough to pay for their death and they'd have died anyway she rationalizes. We're all going to die anyway.

Maybe it’s a silver lining that Tae no longer believes in the same kind of sin and wrongness that Jimin does. Doesn’t believe in God and heaven at all. Tae has always believed in soulmates more and believed in Jimin the most. More than any god or afterlife.

“I should be angry, anyone else probably would be but-” Tae turns her cheek into Jimin’s fingers, pressing her lips to his trigger finger. Eyes shining when she looks at him. “I’ve wasted too much of my life being angry at you, wasted too much of it feeling anything but love for you- Jimin- if you died, I-”

Jimin cradles Tae's cheek. “I’m sorry for Namjoon’s rut- for what I said. Didn’t mean it. Never mean it if I'm mean-” Jimin’s finger rubs across Tae’s lips, the wide part of his palm splayed across her jaw, and so much is said in that little touch. But they look at each other and laugh. "Not like Noodle."

It shocks a laugh out of Tae and she presses her temple to Jimin's jaw, feels his smile when the joint moves. She realizes that Jimin's still a little high. Probably too doped up on pain medicine to have this conversation but oh well.

“I never thought it would take you getting stabbed for me to realize it,” her lip trembles, “I don’t want to waste another second being angry with you.”

“I don’t want to waste another second with you either. Won't even sleep,” his eyelashes flutter, struggling to stay awake.

Tae pulls herself more firmly on top of the bed and Jimin shifts a little, wakes a little more when she slings a leg carefully over his hips. Being gentle, still conscious of his physical state. He uses his good arm to pull her up and up until She’s splayed across his lap.

Kissing Tae never loses its edge, it always feels like their first kiss, sweet and with that knotted bundle of anticipation. Jimin sits up into the kiss, sits up until his shoulder protests and he hisses into the kiss. "Don't strain yourself minnie-"

"Don't care just-" he pulls her hips snugly. After that words are sparse as they kiss, again and again, lips working together. Sloppy messy love kisses. Every breath tastes like love, every second of it. She giggles pulling apart for a second to get her breath, the heartbeat monitors in the corner going wild. Breath that washes over Jimin like a gust of spring air, cinnamon flower sweat, and heady. Tae’s kisses are better than a first sip of coffee or a breath of fresh air. (They’re better than living, just a little bit).

“If I was any less sore, I’d ask you to bite me right now.”

Tae grins, and it’s a special secret smile. “You said something like that to Pup too."

“I’m so lucky I get to be yours- don't want to waste the luck-" Tae shakes her head stubbornly pulling back.

"I don’t think that you should say you’re lucky. I’m so lucky that this person loved me, or I’m so lucky that I got to love them. Because when it comes down to it, love and luck are not the same thing. Love is not a single event, like winning the lottery, or finding a 100-dollar bill. Love is a choice and you have to choose it a thousand times. Every day you choose it. Luck is such a cop-out. It’s been really nice.”

“God, I hope I’m more than just nice.”

Tae smiles, “Shut up” She goes a little pale. “Actually don’t shut up with me like- ever. I guess that’s what I’m trying to say.” She plays with Jimin’s hands, “Is that when either of us- whoever- goes first-“ Jimin’s grip goes knuckle tight on her waist, he's coming out of it, a little more lucid with every breath. Waking up more.

“When one of us dies- I don’t want to question if I ever loved you enough, I don't want to rely on just luck. I don’t want to think about the days that I could have gone for coffee with you or could have kissed you longer. I don’t want to think that I didn’t get exactly what I wanted and you didn’t get exactly what you wanted too.

"I want to give you one extra kiss every time so that you get twice as much as you would have gotten otherwise. I just want to think that it was nice, that every moment of it was nice- even when we fought, I want to look back on it and think ‘even the sad parts were nice and I got more than I thought I would.' No luck involved.”

She grins down at him, that same youthful grin she’s had her whole life, Jimin thinks of it sometimes- how many times she’s smiled this way and he hasn’t seen. How many more he will see.

“Also, y/n says that you’re allowed to mate me, but not marry me. She says my ring finger belongs to her.”

Jimin slides up the bed, flipping her over, supporting himself with his good hand, sending her sprawling and giggling. His growl is half hearted but promising. Tae laces her hand in his greasy blonde hair and it stays there.

It stays there.

~-~

The rest of Jimin’s hospital stay goes a bit like this:

There is a pair of suits outside the window, dark and imposing. plain clothes police officers watching and waiting like vultures. They’ve already taken statements from the pack but demand to hear from Park Jimin himself.

Lies from the source always taste the sweetest.

There is a story ironed out and penned in stolen moments, you curled up in one packmate's lap and transferred to another, "the pup" Jin had said, the youngest, was not taking her alpha's stabbing well. "She just needs a bit of soothing, sorry." The suits are charmed enough by two cuddling omega's that they don't notice your mouth pressed to their ears, like a game of cuddly murderous telephone.

The story gets ironed out easily, you’d all gone out for pizza, had come home to find Jimin bleeding in your kitchen.

“It’s pretty normal for Jimin to be reckless with his health. I’m not surprised he tried to come home and see if I could stitch him up himself. I'm a doctor at his hospital- Dr. Kim, pack alpha and head of neurosurgery. The knife- you should know I touched it on accident he wanted to remove it himself and I just had to stop him- I’m sorry- I should have known better I was just- so shaken.” Namjoon is a passable liar at best.

Jungkook has folded himself under your mate’s arm, and Jin’s too. He’s still vaguely shaking, bunny eyes wider than usual. In a little bit, Namjoon will drag him over to an empty exam room for a quick check-up. Just to make sure he isn't about to seize on the floor. Yoongi will go with him, Will tell him the truth about all of this then.

But what, with his comment earlier, you wouldn't be surprised if Jungkook has already figured it out on his own.

Jimin doesn’t even need to be coached into remembering it. The police don’t even think of not letting the pack see him, after seeing Tae’s teary eyes. A pretty girl is the best distraction, and the pack has two pretty girls that smell sour and need to tend to their alpha before the police get a chance too.

They’re impatient as they watch you and Tae fold yourself over Jimin’s barely aware body, more preoccupied with looking at your asses than they don’t see your lips moving against Jimin’s ear, mistaking your shaking for the racking sobs. And your quiet words for sweet nothings.

Hobi had barely leashed a growl, and resisted the urge to step in front of you and block you both from their sight.

The story is so easy and simple- a true case of Ockham’s razor. The simplest story with the least details is the most likely to be believed. the story Jimin tells the police goes like this;

Earlier yesterday, a crazy fan of the idol group he guards that must have followed him from his schedule with intent to learn his schedule and get closer to them. Her description is so ordinary that they’ll never find her because she doesn’t exist. Any person found will easily be made inculpable; either by alibi or honesty. Not that the law cares much about honesty, nor that any of you care about possibly implicating a stranger.

Love always did make people go to extremes, it's easily believable.

Nothing else matters. Besides keeping everyone safe. You're united against this.

Once they're gone, other promises get made:

“I want you to quit, this is too dangerous, if something like this happens to you again, I don’t know if I’ll be able to handle it.”

“We need to make sure we travel in pairs until we figure out what’s going on, why they're targeting Jimin and Jin.”

“I can ask some of my contacts-“

“You’ll do no such thing Yoongi.”

“Do you think we should be like- Armed? Just in case?”

“I don’t think more guns will solve anything but…Maybe.”

In a stolen moment, Namjoon corners you outside Jimin's hospital bedroom, he's holding three bags of takeout, not that Jimin will really be able to eat much of it. The opioids keep down his appetite. That doesn't meant the pack won't try to fuss. As it is, Jimin hasn't been interested in anything but kissing Tae and holding her hand. Pouting whenever the nurses make tae leave.

"I'm sorry for yelling at you earlier," Namjoon has always found apologies easy and has never had so much of an ego that it would get in the way of any of it.

"It's alright, between you and me, I think it was kind of justified." You'd probably yell at all of them if they convinced you to stab Yoongi or tae or any of them.

"No more secrets, okay? Promise me this is the last one." It's easy to promise Namjoon that, so easy. To let him scent you, rubbing his coffee liquor scent all over your shoulder.

(But it's not about the promises that you make, it's about the ones that you break.)

You sit out in the hallway the following morning, still in the same clothes and starting to feel a little bit filthy because of it. None of you have gone home yet. Hobi sits next to you and Jungkook's on the other side.

They’re just checking Jimin’s stitches again, and his hospital room just got a bit crowded. The prospect of checkout is maybe a day away. Tonight is the last you'll have to spend at the hospital.

It was also time to talk over Jimin’s opioid regimen, and the doctor had been nearly delighted when Namjoon had stepped up and taken the lead, reassuring the doctor under no uncertain terms that Namjoon would manage them. You can forgive him for thinking a little too much with his hindbrain. If Namjoon leaned any more into his instincts you'd be worried he was close to going into a rut again.

“Is this what it’s like when I’m in the hospital?” Jungkook asks, sucking on some skittles. It's more sugar than he should be allowed to have especially during a high-stress situation. But Jungkook’s taking the panic to get a little bit of freedom. You cast a glance at Tae, at Yoongi and Jin, standing by the door looking like he’s about ready to twitch out of his skin with the effort it's taking him to stand outside.

Jin had apologized- him and Namjoon both, and Jimin had accepted it instantly. "If I trust anyone to shoot and stab me- it's you two so-"

"But-" they'd argued, but eventually Jimin had turned a little scary, a little threatening. showing a hint maybe- of a persona they're all unused to but you're not. Jimin can be firm when he needs to be. A quick retort of-

"Forcing me to comfort you over something I'm not upset about is not the way to make me forgive you." Shut them up for good (or at least for now).

“Yeah, pretty much.” You hold out your hand for some skittles and he gives you a few. Hobi grimaces and reaches over to take the orange ones out of your palm. He knows you don’t like those. He replaces them with a few green ones.

"It’s fucking boring. I should get you guys like- a DS or something for Christmas.”

“Don’t tell Minnie or he’ll blow all his money on-“ You cringe at your words and Hobi flinches. Jungkook just chews on his candies, they smack against his teeth with a hard clinking sound.

There is still some of Jimin's blood under Hobi's fingernails. You see it when he reaches over to take your Skittles.

The next time Hobi moves to take your Skittles, you grab his hand and pull him to his feet. "Come on."

You lead Hoseok into the women's bathroom, underneath the curious eye of the nurses, all the stalls are empty so you pull him over to the counter.

“You’ve got some- stuff- under your nails- let me.” You rip a handful of paper towels from the dispenser and wet them. You clean Hobi’s hands diligently and he lets you.

He stays quiet, Hobi's been quiet for the last day or so. He hasn't done more than whisper a few quiet words to Jimin and stay close. He didn't say anything during your secret confession yesterday. Didn't ask a single question and the silence bleeds now as you scrub the clean-smelling soap against his skin. Your anxiety builds, and you scrub a little harder. His fingers remain limp in your touch.

“Say something- say anything okay? I need to know that you’re not-” not angry with me. That you don't hate me- that you still love-.

Hobi pulls you against his shoulder in a single clean movement. His wet hands hit your stomach when he grabs your hips. Your nose brushing his throat, his nose skimming your hairline.

“I’m trying not to take too much energy from Jimin- trying not to- be a mess- because he's the only one who deserves the packs attention. I'm not even sure if I am a mess about it. Sure that sucked but-" he sighs, "you and I are kinda like- uniquely able to handle things like this cuz of-" he doesn't need to finish his sentence. Hoseok's lips brush your ear, lips touching your skin, and- he pulls back, smiling softly. It's a tired smile but there it is- soft and special and just for you.

“You’re taking things, remarkably well considering the last time we…”

“The last time we had to deal with something like this?”

You hum, scrubbing a paper towel hard over the ends of Hobi's hands. The white paper goes orange-red with dried blood. "Give it time. There’s still a few weeks for me to go crazy this time.”

But this time, you have a feeling that it will be different. Although Hobi was there the last time- and played an instrumental role in making sure you didn't literally fall apart. It's different now. Right now, your hands tangle on the counter, holding on, even though you try to clean his hands of blood. Holding on is more important, neither of you tries and pull away. You don't have the energy for shyness.

What's more intimate? Sex or murder?

He huffs a small frustrated sound and stoops to rest his forehead against your shoulder, leaning almost all of his weight on you. You take it.

“Maybe this time I’ll take a crack at going crazy.” You laugh, stopping your brushing and just settling for holding him. Hips resting against the counter. The two of you rest, just for a moment.

Your nose against the side of his face where his undercut presses to your skin, spiky. "Still have that train ticket?" Hobi humms, taking a deep greedy breath of your scent to steady himself.

You're not expecting him to pull back and kiss you, but his lips are dry but warm, faintly chapped but yours are too. Pressing soft but demanding against yours. Hobi kisses you just as sweetly as last time and you grip the front of his jacket.

No sooner has he heaved you up on the counter, fingers hooking under your thighs to kiss you stronger- than is the door clanging open and a nurse comes barreling in.

"Ugh- uhm." She's a little stunned, but you're already hopping down, faces flushed and apologizing for the inconvenience.

You don’t throw the bloody paper towels in the garbage, but the toilet, flushing them once, then twice, to make sure that they’re down. Mumbling one last apology before you exit the bathroom together.

Hobi doesn't let go of your hand. You wonder if this is what loving him is going to be like; making out in places you shouldn't, special secret stolen glances when you keep holding hands even around the pack and keep stealing kisses.

You wonder if the kissing will stretch to the cars- to the late night drives, if he'll hold your hand like this around every hairpin turn. If Hobi's going to make you a make out playlist later, full of songs that make him think of you, songs that match the cadence and pitch of your heart. You wonder if loving him will be like this, stolen innocence, like finding sea glass on the beach. There and pretty for the taking if you only look for it.

Your heart feels all warm and tight with it, swaddled. Protected as Hobi tugs you back into Jimin's hospital room. You can't wait to find out.

The next few hours look like this; Namjoon sitting on the foot of the bed his hand on Jimin’s knee, feasting on hospital food. Jungkook giggles, and nearly throws himself across Jimin’s lap so that the alpha can put his hands through his hair. Looks like more takeout, living off of it because no one wants hospital food and you can't go home and cook. You refuse to leave right now.

It looks like Tae smiling for the first time In what feels like years but has logically been only a few hours. Rubbing a hand across her jaw and wincing when she feels the stubble.

Her wince quiets the sounds of the pack happy. And you look up from your plate.

“What’s wrong?” You ask, always stupidly attuned to her and her needs, always watching and waiting.

“I need to freaking shave and I just- I haven’t had the chance to.” Tae lets out a tired sigh, the kind of deep frustration that comes with things that you have no choice but to do.

You take her hand from her chair and tug her up. Because this- this source of angst can be fixed.

“Here- come on,” A shaving razor gets found for her, Namjoon goes to the surgical ward to get the right kind. Sharp and medical and disposable along with a tiny tube of shaving gel. You drag her chair into the bathroom and make her sit while you do it. Lathering up her cheeks and tipping her head back. The whole pack a cacophony in the other room. The shock of skittles and other candies falling onto the floor. Muted words then soft laughter.

You drag the shaving razor up her chin, over her chubby cheeks. Your gentle touch, the soft scrapping of her hair against the blade a gentle accompaniment to the sounds of the pack passing the time until Jimin wants to go to sleep. Jungkook's phone plays a tictok loud, "Bunny- headphones, Minnie's trying to rest" Yoongi reminds him.

Jimin is struggling not to fall asleep, shifting to one side of the hospital bed just to get a better vantage point to look into the bathroom at Tae. Jimin cranes his neck.

Tae's face twitches, and underneath the white froth you see her reddening cheeks. “Stop looking at me.”

Jimin grins from the hospital bed, “Can’t help it, love you.”

“Love you too Minnie” She choruses back, and the pack joins her.

that night, namjoon and yoongi push three hospital cots togeather around jimin's bed and the pack piles in, sweet bodies and kissed cheaks, whiped down with sanitary towels, you end up tucked between tae and hobi, your cheek pressed to her back.

the following morning it becomes impossible to ignore both how purely filthy the 8 of you are and the fact that Jimin's doctors won't let him check out until tomorrow (and even then he'll have days of bedrest and won't be able to use his arm until he gets his stitches out.) You haven't been home in two days, no one can remember if you even locked the front door with how crazy leaving was.

It’s hard to convince Tae to go with you and leave Jimin's side. But she's less resistant when Yoongi reminds her that Jimin needs new clothes to go home in since all of his bloodstained clothing was discarded as medical waste.

“Honestly we should get like- to go bags full of a change of clothes for all of us when like, JK has his seizures,” Maybe it’s just because you’ve done overnights twice in the last week at the hospital- but the idea doesn’t seem like a bad one.

Jin drives you, Hobi, and Tae home in silence; no one tells Tae any of the other secrets yet. Tired as she is, almost falling asleep in the car. Waking with a start when you turn onto your street.

It's a little shocking. When you get home to a cold and quiet house. Jimin's blood has dried up into dark waxy puddles, on the kitchen table and the floor. There are fingerprints from someone, rusty and red on the doorframe. It's stark to see the evidence. To see a bit of it on the butcher block countertop all the terror and the color leached out of it in the grey afternoon light.

Tae is so stumbly that Hobi has to grab her twice just to keep her from walking into walls when he gets her inside. Noodles immediately yowl has you feeling terribly guilty, he circles your and Hobi's ankles. But you push at Hoseok's hands when he stoops to pick him up.

"Take Tae upstairs and shower with her, will you? I'll be up in a second, just gonna feed him and get some stuff together." She's blinking and looking at the bloodstains, eyes already looking glassy with fresh tears.

You need a second, a second in quiet, a second alone just to steady yourself. Jin comes in, dragging in a mountain of mail from your box, "I've got them, come on pups, grooming time."

Jin pecks a kiss along your forehead, "Come up the second you finish?"

You nod, "Just want to get some food first too- hungry."

Jin nods and makes to follow Hobi and Tae but pauses on the stairs. he looks like he wants to say something to you. Eyes full of something unreadable and warm. Unspoken words hover.

If he had to choose anyone, I'm glad he chose you.

But before he can get it out Tae calls from upstairs. "Jinnie? Can you grab one of my comfy sets from the closet down there before you come up?"

You stand, solemn in the kitchen, listening to the sound of them on the creaky stairs, the sound of their quiet voices. The creek of the house as they walk around upstairs.

"Here you go baby," you say, giving Noodles an extra spoonful of food. You know you left enough for him in his bowl and that he didn't suffer too badly. But still, his purring chirping is music to your ears. You pet over his back, his fluffy tail.

He's Still chubby, still good. You aren't too bad of a pet owner then.

There's the gun still there, sitting just to the left of Jimin's blood splatter on the seat of one of the dining room chairs. You're at eye level with it from where you crouch down to pet Noodle. It's the same one that you pulled out from under the bed when you found out he'd been shot. You should probably take it with you when you go back to the hospital, just to be sure.

"You got any secrets for me nu? Are you the long-lost prince of some cat kingdom?" Noodle chops down in response.

You go to the hallway closet to get a duffel bag, where the pack stores their larger bags and luggage.

"Hey!" Hobi calls from upstairs, muffled through the roar of the shower. There isn't much other noise in the house. The birds outside aren't chirping, probably because you haven't been home enough to fill their birdfeeder.

Probably.

"Yeah!?" You call back up, upending the duffel bag and sending a bit of loose change, some quarters and pennies scattering onto the floor. you stoop down to pick up a few of them, tossing them back into the closet with a metallic clang (to be dealt with later.)

“Can you grab Tae's phone charger? It should be by her computer.”

"Got it!" Tae's library room is much the same as it was when you left it, her computer is closed. The walls are green, the window dusty. You find it easily, the cord long and white, tangling in your hands.

You're not sure why your hair raises on the back of your neck.

Noodle stops his chomping.

The push of cold air startles you- the change of pressure in the house like a door being opened- the front door. The windows in the library room are leaky. You're used to being in here and feeling it, used to feeling that same draft every time one of your pack mates comes home.

You freeze where you stand.

The metallic jingle of the doorknob is so much softer than usual. You could almost convince yourself that you don't hear it, that you've made it up.

And then you hear it- Noodle's low hiss.

Call it a habit or a trained behavior but you still make your footsteps quiet everywhere you go. A thing learned from your years with Geumjae when you needed to be quiet to be safe and needed to make yourself as unobtrusive as possible to avoid pain. A vestigial survival instinct.

It serves you well now because no one in the house hears as you slide from Tae’s library through the pantry area, you don’t call out Tae’s name again, or Hobi’s. You don’t know exactly why you don’t.

Your house is an old house and you know every inch of it. You know this house that Yoongi’s built for you from the top of the eves to the shutters, from the windows up top to the ground floor and dusty half-finished basement. You know every creaky floorboard and which steps are the ones you skip when someone’s sleeping upstairs because it always sounds so high-pitched and it wakes Jimin up, light sleeper that he is.

You hear the subtle creek of the floorboards now, the small slide of heavy boots across the wide floorboards. A creak. Someone is about to ascend the stairs, up to where you can still hear Hobi and Tae talking softly. The shower off, they're probably just getting dressed.

Softly, you hear the sound of a heavy boot hitting something metallic, one of the pennies you dropped earlier and missed.

Jin might still be in the other room, that's what you tell yourself. You're just being paranoid. stupid paranoia you almost want to laugh. you're just jumpy from the last few days- that's all. Funny of you, to make it up.

The danger is all in your head.

Only it's not,

Because the first thing you see when you peek around the corner is the pitch-dark barrel of an extended gun.

~-~

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Notes:

There are some parts in this chapter, some facts about yoongi's family that haven't been touched on since the very begining chapters or jimin's secret chapters and i repeated them just so that people get a bit of a refresher but some of it feels a little monotonous to write! i hope it's not too hard to get through.

in an ideal world i would have given myself an additional week to edit this chapter, it's not the most edited and because of that i feel like it got repetitive or arduous in places.

i'm also realizing that this is like, 9th longest bts fanfic in existence. look it up on ao3 if you don't believe me. i think giving people a refresher of the begining is fair. In terms of the harry potter series (it really is a shame that no one knows who wrote it) we're just into the 6th book in terms of word count if you need that for context.

on that same vein. moonbyuls brief rant that is implied to be transphobic and sorta is- is not a reflection of my views she's just...you know...the villain?

this chapter also literally went from 8k to 14k during editing what the fuck. i stayed up till 2 am to get this done two nights in a row. i have this little nagging voice in my head that says its stupid to care about something like this but i can't help it- i love this story so much. even if this isn't the best chapter.

when the m/c has her freak out in the room where she almost passes out- that is called adrenal fatigue and it's soemthing that i struggle with as someone with ptsd. you know the feeling when you go on a rollercoaster when all of your adrenaline unloads it's self all at once? if i go through that my body goes a little haywire like- dizziness, exhaustion, dysregulation, memory fog, all of it. i still like rollercoasters though so as long i like rest and drink alot of water it doesn't affect me too much.

it's really important that you notice that no one says moonbyuls name during the moment when they're talking about their secrets between namjoon, jin, hobi, yoongi, and the m/c. i'm not telling you why just PAY ATTENTION.

Every time i think about the proverb "The child who is not embraced by the village will burn it down to feel its warmth." i think of the m/c and how thats her storyline with the family like- she really was like "either you love me or i'll kill all of you" and i think thats cute <3

In terms of why the last don and Beta killed Yoongi's parents- i think it's because yoongi's mother found out that she was pregnant with another beta and the don and beta didn't want to deal with such a divided power. They already had yoongi under their thumb and another possible successor would have over complicated things. Yoongi would have had a little sister, i don't know if he'll ever know thats why his parents where killed- he was between the ages of 16 and 18 when they died.

although this chapter was the least edited in terms of the most recent chapters- i will also say that there are two moments in this chapter- where i 'fuck up' and write things a certian way but heres the thing- they're not fuck ups and they're actually hints so! lets see if anyone notices!!

i'm gonna be honest with you guys the part where it goes "it stays there" left me fucking winded i can't even think about it too hard or else i get misty eyed.

i am catheterizing a lot of emotions writing this i am sorry it took so long to write, there is a reason why this update took a month and thats cuz yeah- my grandmother is dying. She's got cancer and She's 91 so they're not treating it. death is gonna be a /theme/ for me over the next couple of chapters, don't be surprised if I go off on a tangent or if it takes me a second between updates.

i wish i could write the m/c just a little dumber you know?

i wrote this series with the intent to write about people in realistic relationships- showing the moments they make mistakes, the moments they react too much or not enough, the way that trauma affects us all and how we handle it and love. it feels very full circle to have this chapter come out like- this is what bily is about you know? even though they'res alot of dialouge in it.

oh~ shits about to go down~

Mini-Playlist

Dominic fike- acai bowl (kinda hobi and the m/c's song for this chapter, they're going through it)

Hozier- Eat Your Young (Bekon's Choral Version) (this is literally bily's unoffical theme song at this point)

JID, Kenny Mason - Dance now (the beginning when moonbyul setting the industrial park on fire)

Frank sinatra- thats life (the song i picture playing at the end when tae and jimin are talking out their issues).

[arjunasearth]

Instagram-Fasting: Day 2 - Reflections and Observations

It all started when I was talking to a girl last week and she told me that she deleted IG as it distracts her from studying. I felt instantly triggered-but in a good way-as I felt reminded by the universe to do the same. I already deleted it for certain time periods in the past and it helped me a lot to decrease distraction . So I felt motivated to do the same and see what happens. Super sponteneously decision, but feels good anyway. So here are a few things I notice during my time out. I will add and adjust the list for my own observation.

The automatic impulse to open Instagram but instantly closing it again; observing my own automatic behaviour and reprogramming it.

Much less anxiety and looping thoughts

Thinking about certain Insta-Profiles in particular that inspire me and contain useful information that TRULY helps me to learn more

No Insta-App on my Phone -> Less Distraction--> More concentration for various tasks throughout the day

Stronger will to write and reflect more on Tumblr

Practicing Gratitude in the morning instead of instantly checking my phone, improving my sleep quality , waking up calmly and less stressed, more structured

No constant overstimulation through the application itself

Less 'pseudo-perfomative' behavior: The (programmed) urge to share everything is decreasing; more conscious reflection , more being in the moment and more awareness in general

More enjoyment of the Now

More privacy

Less energy drain

Less time on Social Media and more time for creative tasks, trying out new things and using digital media differently; extending my creative skills, experimenting with music and digital art

This is not the first time that I am doing an Instagram-Detox, but the first time that I will protocol it now and then for my own reflection improvement. I sorted out my followers a few months ago or so, therefore I follow profiles in IG that inspire me / people I know. I also made the account private a long time ago. It was a really good decision tbh, but there is still the risk of 'overconsuming' certain people though. Ive noticed that I follow people on IG who I personally know or had a friendship with, but have no contact anymore except for the Instagram-Contact. That often leads me to 'consuming' these people and checking their profiles out. This may trigger various emotions, with certain people in particular. As this is a very psychological process, I want to use this Detoxtime efficiently and find out why. Am I still interested in these people and want to see what's going on in their lives, altough we havent really talked (in person) for years? Am I missing some people? Or are they presenting me parts of their lives that I miss in mine? What do they reflect?

Will anyone of the 'local' (I follow many people that live in the same hood as I do, and they follow me on IG as well)people (or any other people that follow me) 'miss' me or will feel the urge to talk to me? Or will I miss certain people and feel the urge to talk to them personally and meet them ?

So many questions but I will let the answers flow naturally, without forcement. I think they will crystallize as I'm gonna reflect and write much more about this process. All I know is that I'm pretty done with 'consuming' people digitally that are not even interested in a single, real conversation with me. I've been asking myself why I follow certain people that I don't interact with anymore at all and what it does give me. On the one hand, I am curious about what is going on in their lives and what they do. On the other hand, I feel like something is missing in my life: celebration, freedom, travelling and social contacts. This realization leads me to the insight that they mirror me things I miss in my life instead of things that I appreciate and have. This can be a good reminder to myself but also signals the comparative behaviour I still have about these issues. A reminder to focus more on HOW to transform these deficits in my life and with which methods instead of feeling anxious and loop-thinking about what is missing in my life. The subliminal comparative behaviour that is (especially between women!) generated on Platforms like IG may indeed have a much deeper impact on my mental health that I would have thought before.

[summerofspock]

2021 Year in Review

2021 was a rough fucking year. According to my AO3 stat pages, I only wrote 50k less than 2020 but boy howdy it felt like a whole lot less. For some reason, that makes the words feel a lot more precious. The support I got this year meant a lot as I switched jobs, finished an internship, got my masters and tried to adjust to living life with a different sort of chronic illness **

South Downs - (75k, E) my attempt at an actors au, ultimately an exploration of bisexuality and also me making jokes at my own expense

Against Expectations - (69k, E) Regency arranged marriage but like the genderfuck bisexual regency romance I always wanted to read. Collab with @asparklethatisblue who blessed me with art over and over

through the silent wood - (57K, M) oh i finished this fic? did i ever finish this fic? will this fic ever be finished with me? I don’t know. fitting tbh

Not a Mounted Dildo but a Fuck Machine (35k, E) - collab with @naromoreau a roommates au fic that reminded me writing is fun and helped me get my groove back but is mostly about dildos

It’s Only Human Nature After All (13k, E) - Reverse Bang collab with Al Figeroid, drag king AU. 

watermark (18k, T) - librarian az/professor crowley. my favorite thing I wrote this year I think.

Oneshots

Sin Show - Hell Wins AU, dark AF and a fun a collab with @wargoddess9

feather of lead - somno dark fic

Mount This - maybe the funniest thing I wrote all year. Written for the Bottom Crowley zine Thwarting Wiles

Just the Tip(sy) - drunk sex

Pride and Praise Kink - another collab with @asparklethatisblue for K4K volume 2. Exhibitionism and praise kink

to see you - priest/demon possession for Blissful Imperfections Zine

Out of Hand - foot massage for Nanny Zine

unfurl - a collab with @lydiajoypalmer featuring gorgeous illustrations

Ridiculous - writing the tony/femme az fic of my dreams

Breaking the Habit - weed dealer/tech guy az

A Divine Lightness - sometimes you have the wildest ideas and you write them cuz you have to

Full Load - Crowley gets stuck in a washing machine. I wrote this @naromoreau and again the wonderful things we create out of our silliness brings me so much joy. See also Better to Eat You With