#the story is that I was cleaning out one of the bunny pens

[link-lonk]

I have a scar on my face now if anyone was wondering

[shoshiwrites]

The lovely @mercurygray is running Blind Dates again this year — now with a blog @blind-dates-fest! — and I wanted to make it four for four!

My sincerest apologies to Esther Bubley, whose photo stories for the Office of War Information I borrowed for this piece (and header), more specifically the six-week bus trip she took in 1943 to document the country's travels during wartime.

Her photos are amazing and can be found in multiple books on the Internet Archive and on the Library of Congress website. Her OWI peers included Jack Delano, Marion Post Wolcott, Gordon Parks, and John Vachon, and I should probably put together a second post instead of taking up all the space in this one!

Without further ado, meet Paulette!

so many miles and so long since i've met you

It’s 5:00 AM, and she’s hungry. 

She’d gone for a boxed lunch at the last station, scarfing it down at a corner bench with her camera on her lap, her jacket flung over it for protection. The taste of salmon salad lingers in her mouth, her fingertips still smelling of orange peel even though she’d waited in line to reach the ladies’ room, politely elbowed her way between fellow passengers reapplying lipstick and dabbing their makeup to scrub her hands clean at the small sink.

I could go for a Coca-Cola right about now. 

If nothing else, it would keep her awake to keep shooting, capture the people waiting who look as tired as she feels, as tired as she knows she looks by now. She’d gotten some good pictures at the machine shop back in Indianapolis, the garage where the mechanics worked and the drivers wrote out trip reports. 

Maybe she’s predisposed, her comfort in these places. Her papa’s a mechanic too; she knows the chambray shirts with their pockets, stained with oil and stuffed with pens, wrenches hanging on the wall, the smell of new tires and grease.

She tries not to yawn, and fails, into the back of her wrist. Sleep finds a way here — she sees it in heavy shoulders, click, the flyaway curls, click, the man walking through with a stack of used pillows off an incoming bus, click. The children dozing on their father’s arm, little brown shoes barely touching the floor, the stuffed bunny in the little one’s arms. Click, click, click. The woman behind her has taken up a whole bench, her pumps kicked off besides. Click. Her camera is small, comparatively, and even still, they all sleep so soundly that the noise doesn’t wake a single person. 

Good shots of the garage in Indianapolis, and better ones of the women who washed the bus windows, the baggage clerks hustling with their caps and cigarettes. They let her roam, with the permissions she’s got, all stamped and tucked in her bag. Behind the driver’s seat, the front, the middle, the back. Her bus out of D. C. was segregated; it depends which bus, which city. Everyone looks at her funny until they forget she’s there.

Paulette has plans for a short stay in the next city, photographing a driver and his family. A real bed and supper at a table, marking the halfway point of this East-Coast-Midwest criss-cross. She thinks of sending a few postcards home — there’s hardly time, but Maman always likes to hear from her, and Paulette knows she’ll catch hell if Charlie and Dot don’t have anything to tape up. 

Is it better to send the same postcard, or different ones, she wonders. Sometimes the twins like to match, and sometimes there’s nothing worse. Just as long as she calls Charlie Charles — makes him feel like a grownup, like Pa’s official correspondence, and her sister Dot or Sis. Marie-Dorothée makes her sound like their grandmother, Dot says. Paulette, ten years older, out of sight and on the road with her knowing smile, does as she’s told.

“Miss?��

Her eyes fly open to the asker, the soldier in front of her as tired as the rest. It pulls at his frame, still upright with the force of hard training. His voice is a little hoarse, that sleepiness, like it’s not a question. “Mind if I sit here?”

Here is the space between her and the end of the carved bench, not much. But here, it’s all at a premium. She nods.

He slumps in next to her, his bag on his lap, and they touch at too many points to count, warm hip warm thigh warm calf. He’s close enough that she can see freckles under the artificial light. If she got up, she could make a photo. Give him some space. 

She feels like she’s missed her chance, the part where she introduces herself and asks for permission. There’s no one here to distract him, no friends or pretty girls to let her fade into the background. Something tells her to get up and walk around. Her bus will be here in an hour anyway, it’d do her good to get the blood in her legs moving. And there’s no such thing as enough pictures, of course. She taps her finger against the flattened lever on the side of her camera. 

“Neat gadget,” says the soldier. 

Paulette’s had the Rolleiflex just under a year, and she’s just now getting less jumpy about it. Photographers have to get used to expensive pieces of equipment. Mr. Linehan back at the office had no patience for it, squeamishness. Trust yourself, a colleague told her. George Gordon, always wore an old leather jacket and signed his letters G. G. He’s somewhere in Maryland now, or Massachusetts.

She’d saved and saved. Gotten a good deal, too. Did some free photos in exchange for the balance. Probably put the corner store out of business from all the Mounds bars she didn’t buy. She’d kill for one of those now, too. 

“Thank you,” she says, even though that’s not the thing to say. 

“My sister’s got one of those little Brownie cameras.”

“Has she? I’ve still got mine at home.”

“Where’s that?”

Maybe she has to give him credit for that. Don’t I ask the questions, she wants to say. “Cincinnati.” There’s a small bruise at his jaw, and maybe she wouldn’t even call it that, it’s still reddish-pink. Training accident, she guesses. “Where are you headed, soldier?”

“Ain’t that confidential?” He smiles, and she can see the slight overlap of one of his front teeth. Boyish. That’s the word. She doesn’t quite feel girlish, here in her tired slacks and her curls that haven’t seen a bottle of hairspray in weeks. “South. Georgia.” Paulette nods. “You?”

“Far as the next bus takes me.”

“Taking pictures?”

“Taking pictures.” Where d’you wish you were headed? she wants to ask. Maybe that’s too much. Maybe that’s something she doesn’t allow herself here, doesn’t want to, usually. Doesn’t have the time. You don’t fill a portfolio getting distracted. You don’t get taken seriously, either.

She doesn’t know him, anyhow. 

“You take a lot?”

“Too many.” Her finger hurts from it. She lets the air out of her nose, something like a smile. “On my last frame, actually. On this roll.” She know she’d better load the next one before the bus rolls up. “You wanna see how I change ‘em?”

He’s twisted in his seat already to talk to her. Nods, watches her hands fiddle with the body, pull the film taut. She’s suddenly self-conscious, but he stays silent. His head is bowed, the scent of his hair and his sweat and the remnants of aftershave in her nose. He points a finger, slowly following her movements, her steps. The scent of orange. His lunch, or hers?

“Gotta take one now, dontcha?” he says quietly, that little bit of brassy shine to his voice.

She smiles. “Would you oblige the lady?” The words run together, in her accent, in her tiredness.

Paulette can’t think about where he’s headed. His easy calm, the flecks in his eyes. The little twitch at the corner of his mouth. “Thought you’d never ask.”

She does get up, gets him turning in profile, thumb curving at his bottom lip as he looks off. The light glints off his boots. A little posed, for her usual. And it never feels like this, like a photo might be just for her. She takes two, just in case. She doesn’t pull out her notebook. 

“S’pose my mother wants a copy-” he starts.

Silly. “Oh, of course!” The notebook, the tiny pencil. He writes down the address. Kokomo. Not so far from Cincinnati. “And- and your name?”

“Floyd. Floyd Talbert.” Does she stick out her hand? He swipes his tongue over his bottom lip, before she can say anything. “S’pose I ask if- if I can write you?” 

It’s not the first time. She’s lost count, actually. She’s never given it, the road forgiving her with warning bells and train whistles, timetables. There are freckles on the bridge of his nose. 

She tears a scrap of paper off the metal rings. Paulette Schafer. Her home address. Her mother hosts servicemen for Sunday dinner, shoos them out of the kitchen with a wooden spoon. “You can call me Pauli.”

“I hope so.” He smiles. “When’s your bus?”

Her watch — the thing she hasn’t looked at for the last hour — tells her twenty minutes. “Soon. I’m headed west.”

“Cryin’ shame.”

“You know, I can’t spend all my film on you.”

He leans back against the wall. “You’d like to though, huh?”

Floyd Talbert, how many times has a girl wanted to keep a photo of you in her pocket? “You’re a compelling subject.”

He smirks, and something in her stomach flutters. 

“You say that to all the handsome soldiers.”

“‘Course.”

She’d better head out now if she wants to get some good quotes out of the driver, a few shots of the baggage clerks, if she doesn’t want to get stuck in the jump seat if it’s a full house. 

“It’s been a pleasure, Floyd,” she says, and sticks out her hand.

A voice intones over the PA, 6:00 AM to Kansas City- “All mine, Pauli Schafer.” A beat passes, and he’s looking at her with an expression she can’t name. “Can I walk you out?”

She knows he’ll let her do what she needs to, stay quiet by her side. 6:00 AM to Kansas City- She wishes they had time for a cup of coffee. She’ll take a moment though, get one more picture of him walking out in the morning light. “You may.” 

[megaawkwardhuman]

List 5 things that make you happy, then put this in the askbox for the last 10 people who reblogged something from you. learn to know your mutuals and followers.♡

sorry for not responding to this sooner

wrote more then I expected so just gonna put this here

1: my dog!

he might be annoying at times but at the end of the day I fucking love him and if anything bad happens to him I'm going to kill a bitch. though it would be nice if he didn't jump on me all the time since he's fucking big (he's still a puppy tho so I cut him a lot of slack) (also he's a german shepherd if you're curious)

2: art

whether it's viewing it or creating it art has always made me happy. I've been drawing since middle school and while I do have creative dry spells I haven't really stopped creating and picking up random mediums (just pencil, just pens, pixel art, sewing, kandi making, painting the list goes on and will continue to go on)

3: music

I would go insane if music didn't exist. It's always been a big part of my life whether it's my dad blasting music while cleaning the house or me listening to music while walking down to a corner store to get an arizona. Music also helps give me ideas! like I have a few fic ideas written down that were inspired by songs.

4: watching and talking about media I like

I'll take this moment to apologize to my irl friends who have witnessed me info dump over discord vcs at like 1 am without planning what I'm saying so it's all one big cluster fuck of words. I fucking love to ramble on and on about shit that I like ESPECIALLY THE MEDIA I CONSUME!!!! I've always been a nerd for details, theories, and over all over analyzing. not always but most of the time if given the chance to talk about something I like I become like one of those door to door missionaries. Only instead of talking about my god I go on about how gay something is. Also watching shit that I like! after I'm done typing all of this I'm gonna rewatch some wwdits while working on bunny art (I swear one of these days I will explain the bunnies. It's a whole thing with a looooong story behind it. I wanna share it but I think it deserves a separate post so I won't talk about it here.)

5: tumblr

is this one a bit of a cop out? probably. is it true? 100%. it fucking baffles me that my ideas and art can bring joy to others. hell I still can't believe I've INSPIRED OTHERS but somehow I have. All of y'all in the wwdits fandom have really helped me get through art block that was going on for months I think? I can't put into words how thankful I am for this site. All of the amazing artists, all of the meta posts, just EVERYTHING AH YOU GUYS HAVE NOOO IDEA HOW MUCH I LOVE Y'ALL. it kinda feels weird since at the end of the day I don't really know y'all and y'all don't really know me but still from the bottom of my little queer heart thank you all soooo much for the follows, likes, replies, and reblogs.

[victorluvsalice]

-->And then it was Smiler's turn to go on the egg hunt! Giving me a chance to show off the new first floor landing rug -- yeah, I decided I wasn't really a fan of my first option to replace the old one that got burnt up in the Winterfest Tree Fire, so I went hunting in the catalogue and settled on that one with the big yellow and blue blocks. *shrugs* Seems more them, at any rate!

Anyway – Smiler checked out the living room while while Victor used the upgraded downstairs bathroom and Alice got the day’s milk from Moory, and managed to dig two Freezer Bunny-patterned eggs out of the living room couch and one of the armchairs. Prompting the game to inform me that the household had completed the decorative egg collection! Something that seemed to be a lie when I checked the actual collection tab and found that there were still two missing according to that, but if the game wants to send them a plaque, I will happily hang it! XD They then proceeded to check the front porch couches, and got an orange chicken egg out of one of them, completing the tradition! :D I then sent them to collect the actual eggs from the chicken coop (three perfectly ordinary ones), since I didn’t have to worry about those counting toward the tradition anymore and thus depriving Smiler of the fun of finding decorative eggs. XD Victor, for his part, went egg-hunting in the kitchen once he’d fulfilled his bladder need – he got two decorative eggs (orange and yellow stripes and blue with a star pattern) and one chicken egg (rainbow). Very good work, you two!

-->With two out of the three in the house having completed the “Hunt For Eggs” tradition, it was time for Alice and Smiler to get their gardening on! Having Alice fertilize and pick the strawberries and fertilize the black beans in the greenhouse fulfilled the tradition for her, while Smiler harvesting their plasma fruit and various herbalism plants fulfilled it for them. Alice then headed up to the second story bathrooms to look for eggs while having a pee and a shower – she found a very patriotic red-white-and-blue egg in the blue-and-white bathroom before her shower, and then a nice wavy egg from the yellow-and-black bathroom afterward. :D That was two out of four traditions complete for all three residents – and, unfortunately, one fox, who I noticed had stolen an egg out of the coop a little too late for me to do anything about it. >( Really gotta get those livestock upgrade parts already. . .

-->Anyway, that still left two more traditions to complete – or, at the very least, one more to complete to guarantee everyone had a good Egg Day. And the easier of the two (which didn’t involve waiting around for an NPC to show up) was “Decorate!” And that has always been Smiler’s job (occasionally helped by me dragging stuff into the front yard). First, though, they really needed a snack –

And, well, we know who has the best plasma in the whole house, don’t we? XD Victor had been keeping busy cleaning out Moory’s shed (and rummaging through the resultant trash pile for bits, pieces, and upgrade parts) and feeding Toothy in their new pen while Smiler and Alice fulfilled their gardening traditions – Smiler caught up with him right in front of the cowplant and politely asked for some plasma, which Victor happily gave! Even though it put him right on the edge of collapsing in the yard. Fortunately, nobody in this house is lacking in satisfaction points, and he was easily able to buy himself some sleep replacement potion and get his energy up to full. :) We do love satisfaction potions in this game!

-->And with that, I just had a few last things for them to do around the house:

Victor went and super-sold everything that was left in the greenhouse, because, uh, honestly, we don't really need to pick all of it every day – there's just SO MUCH

Alice drank some Lifestyle-Go-Poof potion to get rid of the “People Person” lifestyle she and Victor keep developing (I know it’s my own fault, they socialize more than they should, but still) and cleaned up the dishes around the lot; submitted her latest book “Knight To E-4” to the literary digest; and checked on the pets (either Shock or Surprise was sitting on the voodoo doll, which amused me XD)

And Smiler hit the decoration box to put up some cute spring banners and some fun colorful lights for the holiday, before heading outside to catch some butterflies fluttering out in the front yard (never know when you might need them for herbalism!).

You know, typical Sims 4 household nonsense. :p But eventually they were all sorted, and they were ready to head out –

[buckybarnesdiaries]

gravity

bucky barnes x reader. ⎢ masterlist.

helping Bucky to feel better after a nightmare.

word count: 958 words.

warnings/tags: none.

author notes: i wrote this fic listening to gravity by anthony lazaro. none of my stories contain reader’s body descriptions to be inclusive.

Join the tag list here.

You felt cold under the sheets, still sleepy, turning around to hide your face against Bucky’s chest. But the bed was emptied. Bit by bit, you opened your eyes, giving them enough time to adjust to the gloom inside your room. You grabbed your phone from the nightstand. It was quarter to four. You knew instantly that he had another nightmare and he didn’t want to wake you up, since he was aware of the long day working in the hospital. Tossing the sheets away from your bare body, you stuck out an arm over the edge of the mattress to grab his black t-shirt, still thrown on the floor.

You rubbed your eyelids on your way to the living room where the TV was on but the sound was muted. The lights were off. Bucky was sprawled on the sofa with the remote control resting on his lips. He wasn’t paying attention to the old black and white movie playing, having his eyes lost in somewhere through the large window behind the TV. He didn’t notice your presence until you sunk a hand in his scalp, running your fingers thru them. Bucky couldn’t help but purr from the deepest place of his chest, guiding his orbs to above his head. He looked deadly tired and that broke your heart in one thousand pieces.

James gently grabbed your hand to bring it to his lips and place fond kisses on your knuckles, a second before you urged him to get up from the sofa. In complete silence, you unlocked your phone to play a song you discovered the last day, tossing it after on the sofa. Placing your hands on the back of his neck, Bucky rested his forehead on your shoulder while wrapping your hips with both arms.

Very slowly, you two started to dance around the living room with short steps, enjoying the quiet and romantic melody, as you continued caressing his short strands of black hair. The only thing you wanted was for him to relax, to push away all those memories from a person who wasn’t him. It was his body, but not his mind. It wasn’t fair how much he was still suffering because of his past, not being capable of giving himself a single second of break.

“They forced you to commit all those crimes”. You whisper into his ear, feeling his metal arm embracing you tighter. “You’re a good man, James. And I’m so lucky for having you in my life”.

Bucky sniffed against your neck, burying there his face to contain the tears. Your voice was so sweet, it was unbelievable for him that you’d still choose him every day, even after opening himself and telling you about the lives he took off with his own hands. Bucky told you about the war, about Siberia, about the Winter Soldier’s missions, and everything he could remember. He told you about how scared he was, although Shuri erased any Hydra’s command from his head, they could use them against him again.

“I know one day people will see you as I do”.

Your words could be barely inaudible for anyone around because the soft melody was a little louder, but enough for him to hear them. You felt him sobbing, stopping his moves, and just standing focused on your caresses. You held his cheeks onto your hands, cleaning the few tears falling with your thumbs. Leaning on your tiptoes, you kissed his forehead, pressing your lips on his warm skin with so much tenderness. Bucky was trembling under your touch, shortening the less distance between your bodies.

“Can you smile for me?” You pouted at him, showing your boyfriend your best puppy eyes. “Please…”

How couldn’t he say no? He curved his lips half-hearted, discovering those two little bunny incisors in the center of his tooth. But as soon as your boyfriend heard you chuckling, crinkling your nose, his smile grown from ear-to-ear. You knew to perfection how to cheer him up, even if mostly you used to do it practically unconsciously.

Bucky licked his lower lip while raising both of his hands to the sides of your neck, bowing his face enough to kiss you. He had been craving it since he woke up less than an hour ago, finding you clung to his body and your nose sunk close to the huge scar on his shoulder. Sometimes, completely asleep, you used to place fondly smoochies on it. Waking him up a couple of seconds, enough to ask himself how your love for him could be so pure and embrace you as close as he could. He usually used to take a deep breath from your sweet fruity smell, before dozing off again.

“One day… y'know, when the Government is sure ‘m not going to…” Bucky intoned stroking the tip of your nose with his, still softly sniffing, not finishing the sentence. “I… I will marry you. And take care of you for the rest of my life. I promise”.

In silence as his blue eyes got fixed on your orbs, he begged you to believe him. Bucky was desperate for showing you the things you made him feel.

“I know, Buck”.

His smile appeared again, pecking your lips whilst squatting briefly to raise you onto his arms. He was so much better after dancing with you, after your words of encouragement, after practically saying yes to get older together and everything that went with it.

James brought you to your shared bed, removing his t-shirt you were wearing to tuck you under the sheets, between his arms and well-covered by the warmth emanating from his chest. A long time ago, the word home stopped having a material meaning. Home was wherever you were.

feedback is appreciated, please, leave a comment to let me know if you liked it and/or reblog it.

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[fruitcoops]

Hi!! This is based on a reddit post I saw where a woman found her husband's "secret stash" of all the love letters/cards/post it notes she had written for him through all the years that he kept!! (🥺) and I would love to see it rewritten with Coops, if you want! Thanks for all the stories you write. I v much appreciate u

Okay so I looked up the story you’re talking about, and that’s the cutest thing I’ve ever read. My god. I’ve mentioned that Remus leaves notes in a  couple of past fics, so this was just a perfect ask! Coops credit goes to @lumosinlove, but Hattie is mine!

For the anon who watched a sad video in their class: Have some coops fluff to dull the pain!

Remus sneezed as he shifted the nightstand a smidge to the left, exposing a dozen dust bunnies that were starting to look more like dust rhinos. He pulled and rocked and pushed, but the small table refused to move far enough for the vacuum cleaner head to fit through. “We need to clean this more often,” he muttered, opening the top drawer to unload some of the weight from inside.

Three books, a handful of pens, a spare toothbrush, a waterbottle…Remus shook his head at Sirius’ collection of oddities, smiling to himself. The nightstand moved a bit more when he wiggled it, but not quite to the point he needed it.

The lower drawer was bigger, and scattered with whatever Sirius had left in his pockets at the end of the day—Remus found three different packs of gum and laughed a little at the knickknacks they hadn’t been able to fit on their dresser. Part of him wanted to put everything back and ask Sirius to go through his own shit, but it was kind of neat finding souvenirs of their everyday lives.

Remus paused when his hand hit something solid and smooth before the back of the drawer. He felt around blindly, then carefully pulled it out. A box? His curiosity got the better of him before he could debate the nosiness of opening it; he lifted the shiny lid, tingling with anticipation, then frowned.

Paper. The box was full of slips of paper.

Lined, colorful, plain white, even some of his old PT stationary—everything Remus could think of, including a few cards at the bottom. He took a piece off the top and unfolded it, then nearly dropped the whole container when his own handwriting stared back at him.

Left @ 8 to see Leo. You were still out cold—sorry for wearing you out (not😊). Will be back around 4-ish. Love you! <3

Remus blinked at the note in shock for a moment. He remembered writing it on the old bookmark the morning after they went to the trampoline place and spent five hours jumping until they could hardly feel their legs. “But this was last summer,” he said aloud. “I—what?”

He poured a few more into his palm and set the box down gently, then sat back against the side of the bed and began to read.

Crock pot turned on. Pls remind me to take it off @ 5 pm. If I’m not home, pls unplug it @ 4:45 was written on a corner of printer paper.

Happy birthday baby! You are wonderful in every way and I love you so much <3 Here’s to hoping all your wishes come true! Love, Re, on a birthday card he had picked out because the dog on the front looked just like Hattie.

An entire conversation, complete with doodles and sarcastic comments from both of them, written on a piece of lined paper from one of the many conferences they had attended together.

-          Eggs

-          Chicken

-          Bread

-          Sweet tarts (for my sweetheart)

-          Oreos (there’s a sale this week, coupon under note 😊)

-          Pasta (twirly kind)

Love you <3

in his loopy half-cursive, with the shape of a fridge magnet still indented at the top near the crumpled edges from being shoved in Sirius’ back pocket.

“Well, shit,” Remus said, sniffling despite the fact that no tears dampened his eyes. “That’s the cutest thing I’ve ever seen.”

Dozens, if not hundreds, of little papers stared up at him from the open box and he blew out a slow breath, pressing a kiss to the one in his hand. He hadn’t realized just how many notes he had written over the course of their time together, and he skimmed his fingers through the rest before carefully putting the ones he had taken back in and closing the lid. The box fit into the drawer with ease and he leaned his head on the wood for a second to slow his heartbeat.

The nightstand moved the last few inches once the rest of the clutter was strewn across the floor and Remus quickly vacuumed the dust elephants before dumping it all back in. As much as he itched to throw some of it out—the empty wrappers and pen caps didn’t seem to have a use—he was afraid he’d accidentally toss an important memento. Hell, the note box had looked like a pile of confetti at first.

The front door opened just as he began lugging the vacuum cleaner downstairs. “Re, I’m home!” Sirius called, then broke into a bright smile when Remus appeared in the stairwell. He was soaked in sweat and Hattie was breathing hard; she collapsed on her bed with a dramatic groan after drinking a few mouthfuls of water, too exhausted to do more than thump her tail on the floor.

“Heya, handsome.” Remus’ heart picked up its pace again. You kept all my notes, it shrieked happily, doing its best to break right out of his chest with affection.

Sirius tilted his head when he saw the vacuum and the dust on Remus’ pants. “Were you cleaning?”

“Yeah, I’ve been meaning to get under the bed for a while, and I didn’t have anything else to do.” He shrugged. “You’re welcome to do it next time, if you like.”

“I’ll do the dishes to make up for it,” Sirius said as he leaned in for a kiss.

“No, you won’t.”

“No, I won’t. But I will dust the bookshelves and wipe down the kitchen.” They both laughed and Remus stood on his tiptoes for a second kiss, sliding his teeth over Sirius’ lower lip and drawing a noise of surprise from his mouth. “Hi. What was that for?”

“Love you.”

Sirius glanced down at himself, then raised an eyebrow. “…because I walked the dog? Or is it the sweat?”

“It’s definitely not the sweat,” Remus snorted, smacking his rear as he passed. “You can take yourself right upstairs with that. Where did you even go?”

“Around the neighborhood, then to the park. She grabbed my hat and we played keepaway for a bit.”

Remus hummed as he bent down to plug the vacuum into the wall socket. “How the hell did she—oh, ew!”

“What?” Sirius asked with mock-innocence as he lifted Remus higher off the ground and tucked his gross, sweaty face into his neck. “You don’t want cuddles?”

“You are literally dripping! Get the fuck off,” Remus said around his laughter, swatting at his shoulder when Sirius started swinging him back and forth slightly. “Sweat monster.”

“C’est vrai.” Sirius kissed the hinge of his jaw and set him down, then headed toward the stairs with a final grin. “Thank you for cleaning, mon loup.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” Remus said, rolling his eyes playfully. A soon as he heard the bathroom door close, he let go of the vacuum and did a happy dance in the kitchen, much to Hattie’s amusement. He would have to remember to leave notes more often.

[hansolmates]

jjk; off-league

summary; you decide to do a little boudoir photoshoot for yourself—a little sexy lingerie, some bunny ears, maybe even a little nudity to make you feel more body positive about yourself. that little photoshoot doesn’t end up being for yourself anymore when you accidentally send those sexy pictures to your stupidly hot, stupidly talented childhood friend who you haven’t spoken to since middle school graduation.  pairing; photographer!jk x fem!reader genre/warnings; childhood friends to lovers!au, flangst, mutual pining, feelings of insecurity and body image, suggestive language, nudity  w.c; 6.2k a/n: i was feeling a lil meh about this fic after finishing it but a month later it finally makes its debut! for @btsghostiewritersnet​ BGW Bingo Bash! today’s trope is “childhood friends to lovers” which surprisingly isn’t a favorite of mine so it was definitely a challenge to write! 

“C’mon, I need your opinion. Deadass. Don’t just say shit to make me feel better.” 

“Gimmie those nudes, baby girl,” Johnny makes an impeccable fuckboy impersonation, making you feel a little squirmy to your stomach. 

It’s an hour away from being the ass-crack’o-dawn and your impromptu pin-up photoshoot just needs the sexy-star-of-approval from your best friend. Johnny Suh is also up for reasons unmentioned, but you had a feeling his pretty boyfriend is fifty percent of the reason. 

You look at yourself in the mirror, smoothing your frame against the black bodice of the sheer teddy. The only parts that are fully concealed are the parts that don’t matter. The sheer bodice reveals your pert nipples concealed by a thin black mesh, coupled with the deep V in the sweetheart neckline, accented by a little black bow in the dive of your highlighted cleavage. The silky a-line raceways to a set of black garters hugging your thighs, barely hanging onto a pair of lace thigh-highs. 

It doesn’t leave you butt naked, but enough to make you feel confident about yourself. These pictures are for you, and Johnny. And Johnny’s boyfriend if he’s being nosy. 

You tug off the silk bunny ears from your head, flinging it somewhere in your room. The wire started to dig in your brain, giving you a major headache. 

“Sending them now,” you hang up and start compiling the pictures in a folder on Google Drive. Once that’s done you copy the shareable link, sending it to Johnny’s number. It happens all so fast, and you feel kind of giddy. As you were posing for the camera, taking your time to find all the right angles, you felt good, you felt sexy in your little get up. Channeling your inner Ariana Grande was one of your childhood dreams, your fifteen year old self would be proud. 

Five minutes pass, fifteen, and by the twenty-five minute mark you’re pissed. What’s taking Johnny so long? 

Makeup scrubbed clean and face bare, you shuffle in your duvet, far too tired to be waiting up this long. Punching in his number once more, you cry, “Hey! Why haven’t you looked at them yet?” 

“What?” your friend’s voice sounds pebbly through the line. Was Johnny sleeping? “You never sent them!” he whines tiredly. 

“No, I definitely sent them!” you pull the phone away and keep Johnny on call, ready to prove him wrong. 

But to your surprise, the last message you sent to Johnny was this afternoon. 

The most recent message is to a person named John Kook. 

You scream. 

Johnny screams back at you with an equal amount of force, “What the fuck? Did someone break in? Are you being mobbed? See, this is why I wanted to put the baby monitor in your room—” 

“Worse!” you’re well prepared for any break in, but not for this. “I sent my pics to the wrong John!” 

“Well… is he at least cute?” 

“I mean, in the fourth grade he looked pretty cute with that front tooth missing,” you find your output of frustration, your bunny plush, pulling it by the ear and hitting it against the bed. “His name isn’t even John! It was just his English name for a silly project we did in middle school. This is so embarrassing, all I can picture is a twelve-year-old Jungkook mortified from sexual harassment. I basically sent him nudes!” 

“Tasteful nudes.” 

“I’m gonna die.” 

“He’s gonna die, of happiness.” 

Jeon Jungkook was a classmate from elementary through middle school. Time and time again was he the object of your affections, from the first grade at the roller rink to the speech he made at graduation. But really, who cares? You’re old and have a job, and it’s not like you’ve communicated with any of your former classmates. 

Your horror amplifies when the Delivered receipt is changed to Read 3:41AM. 

“Fuck! Fuck me with a fuckin’ fuck nugget he saw it!” you cry, “does he still have my number? What if he deleted my contact, would that be even weirder?” 

“Girl, stop.” Johnny sighs, and you can already picture him running his thumb between his brows. “This doesn’t change anything, alright? You two don’t know each other anymore. Block his number and go to sleep.” 

Johnny leaves you alone after that, and you’re left alone to mull over the implications of sending Jeon Jungkook your nude photoshoot. 

You do block his number, knowing that waiting for a reply would drive you nuts. The one thing that you do which is possibly worse, is look him up on Instagram. 

Of course, he’s stupid hot. 

He doesn’t seem to like being on the receiving end of the camera however, in favor of his timeline being filled with romantic shots of the beach and city. In between the picturesque views and watercolor sunsets do you see glimpses of him and his current life. You can’t help but smile when you see him with his brother and parents during his college graduation, easily towering over all of them. He looks tall with fluffy cocoa hair, big pearly whites gleaming proudly at the camera. He grew up well. 

To torture yourself even more, you even look through his story. Twelve hours ago, he was at the gym lifting weights. Normally, you’d be disgusted by people trying to show off their grunt faces drenched in sweat, but of course Jungkook has to have on a silly smile and pump his fist up after he deadlifts. The sweat clinging to his shirt is also a high plus. His gorgeous display of abs has your hands fluttering over your own belly. Maybe you need to exercise more. 

Four hours ago, you see him and a pretty woman with their cheeks squished together, using the puppy filter. Of course he has a girlfriend. 

Reluctant, you open up your Google Drive and scroll through your photoshoot. Deflated, you frown at the pictures that once made you beam with pride, picking at every little detail that bothered you. You really can’t believe you sent these to Jeon Jungkook, no longer a fourth grader with one front tooth, but a man way out of your league. 

By the time you will yourself to sleep, the sun peeks from the horizon, telling you to move on. 

“Hey Gyu,” you tiptoe over to the table much too small for Mingyu’s frame. The string bean is slumped over his iPad pro, drawing intently at some chibi OCs. “Got a plot for that one?” you ask, pointing at the little pink and blue creature decorating the screen. 

Mingyu grunts in reply, obviously engrossed. It isn’t until you slide him a matcha frappe from Starbucks that he becomes intelligible, muttering a “thank you” as he blends with his pen. 

Sensing that it’s going to be awhile before you get through to him, you take your usual rounds around the front desk and lobby of the cosy photo studio. There’s pretty pictures of Mingyu’s work, along with the other employees Minghao and Hoseok. Each section of the wall features a different taste of each person’s interest. Mingyu is a divine lover of soft bed sheets and hot tea, many of his photographs and paintings featuring cafes or perfectly messy beds you’ve seen on hotel advertisements. Minghao is a tasteful artisan, splotches of color retaliating against neutral backgrounds. Finally, Hoseok manages to find balance in the people, large cityscapes telling both large and small stories.

“Alright,” Mingyu’s deep voice forces you to curl your head, where he’s sipping at his drink with haste. “What’cha here for?” 

You frown, “Don’t you remember? I told you last week I’d be stopping by to get my photos developed,” you gesture to the Pentax in your hands, an heirloom from your great-aunt. While you did take digital photos for sending them to Johnny, the ones you wanted developed were taken side-by-side with the film camera. You figured that film would give a little more authenticity to your photoshoot. 

“Shit, that’s today?” the camera falls like deadweight, slapping against your sweater as you watch Mingyu frantically look through his digital calendar. He looks at you, dejected. “How many prints?” 

“I don’t know, maybe like six. Or eight?” 

“That’s gonna take too long, I’m heading down to Hidden Grounds for a vision meeting at two.” 

“Alright, I’m free all day. What about after?”

“Nah, you came all this way. I can just let the new guy help you.” and Mingyu makes a show of cupping his hands in the direction of the open hallway, “Yah, Jeon Jungkook! Get your cute ass out here!” 

The Pentax around your neck suddenly feels like weight akin to a two-ton boulder, and you surge forward, not caring that the corner of the table is digging into your belly. “Mingyu,” you garble, and Mingyu is shell-shocked by the desperation in your eyes. “Isn’t Minghao around or something? Or I can come back another time? These photos are really personal and I don’t feel comfortable having a stranger see them.”

“What? We’re professionals, don’t belittle us.” 

“No, seriously,” you whine, you tug at the collar of his denim jacket, noses practically touching. “These pictures are different. My tits are out and my legs are spread—”

“—interrupting something?” 

You hear some shuffling, and you turn around to see Jeon Jungkook’s back, comically turned to face the entrance. 

And damn, he did have a cute ass. Nothing is going to hide the glory in those jeans, absolutely nothing. 

“Hilarious,” Mingyu drawls, and you push him away. “Forget it, Kook. She doesn’t feel comfortable letting a stranger develop her photos.” 

Sensing that it’s safe to turn around, you watch as his black bangs flutter as he faces you. You hope your body language doesn’t betray how you’re really feeling, because you are a mere mortal and you’re weak in the presence of god-like figures. 

“Oh, what a relief then,” he smiles at you, and his voice sounds like honey. If there was malice or surprise in his tone, his good-natured expression betrays it. “Because I’ve known this friend since elementary school. We go way back.” 

You ignore the burn in the back of your head, as you are positive Mingyu knows you’re hiding something. 

“Really, what a coincidence.” Mingyu replies carefully, and you feel utterly stuck between these men and their banter, locked up like cream in an Oreo cookie. 

Nothing argues against Jungkook as he easily weaves through the thick wave of awkwardness, hands reaching out to touch your camera. “Wow,” he marvels, holding the object in his hands, “my dad has one of these.” 

“A-ha,” you take a step back, only to bump into the corner of the table, again. Ouch. “It’s okay, Jungkook. I’m actually busy today so I can come when Mingyu’s free–”

“Oh, I thought you were free all day,” Mingyu drawls, looking up through his lashes as he sips languidly at his drink. 

“Don’t worry about it,” Jungkook says good-naturedly, as if Mingyu just didn’t out you. “We got a lot of catching up to do anyway, c’mon.” 

Jungkook moves to place a hand in the small of your back and that’s enough to get you to rev up. Refusing to let any contact get between the two of you, you zip ahead down the familiar hallway, turning your head to catch Mingyu grinning with all canines, shooing you with his fingers like a puppy. 

You send Mingyu a stream of “fuck yous” into his inbox for later, unwilling to settle with this curse. Busying yourself with your phone, you avoid eye contact with Jungkook until you reach the dark room. The red light turned off at the top of the doorhenge signals that the room is not in use. Jungkook makes a move to open the door and that’s when you pounce, blocking the doorway with your small body. It’s comical, really. 

Jungkook raises a brow at you, but says nothing. 

“I really can wait, Jungkook,” you steel yourself, forcing a sympathetic smile. “I’m sure your girlfriend wouldn’t like you developing my pictures—”

It’s then that his pretty cupid’s bow unfurls into a full-fledged grin. “Girlfriend... you’ve been keeping tabs on me?” 

“Fuck, well I had to!” your face is as red as the dark room’s alert light, now on because Jungkook flicked the switch and he’s between your arm to unlock the door. Your hand brushes his as you both reach the knob. “I’m really really sorry I sent those pictures. They were for Johnny—you remember Johnny Suh from English class? And I saved you in my contacts as “John Kook” so it was an honest mess up.” 

Jungkook hums, so light that the breathiness in his chords flutters your grip on the knob. He forces the door ajar, and you’re left to follow him in the dark room, cluttered with solutions and fancy equipment. 

“Thought so,” Jungkook shrugged, giving a one-over at the materials in the room, mulling over his next steps in developing your film. 

You’re still petrified at the doorway, holding your Pentax between both hands like a lifeline. Jungkook’s head lols to you, and you get a pretty view of the way his bangs brush over his forehead, Adam’s Apple bobbing. His expression is a little tired, but overall unreadable. He sighs your name, lethargic. 

“We’re already here, so might as well get this done,” he gestures to the camera in your vice grip. “Do you wanna pick the shots or do you want me to?” 

He’s already seen the digitals, what’s so different about getting a couple prints? With a slight pout you drag your feet over to him, relinquishing your camera. “I’m thinking you have a better eye for this than I do.” 

“You think right.” 

You fight the urge to roll your eyes. Cocky, but what you’ve seen on Instagram definitely justifies his sentiment. Jungkook pays no mind to you, busying his hands with the various containers in front of him, measuring the solutions for the developer, stopper, and fixer. You were always entranced by the process of developing film, especially in highschool where their photography club holed themselves in the darkroom like a secret lair. 

“Alright,” he pops open the canister, carefully laying out sections of the film in groups of four. “Want me to pick a random one for a tester?” 

You frown, “At least put some thought into it.” 

“Always,” it looks like he already decided way before he popped the question, immediately taking a negative and placing it in the carrier. 

His fingers are nimble as he takes the time to clean off the dust and any debris that could potentially ruin the image. Then he turns off the lights and begins the process. You dive around him, trying to keep your distance but still too curious to leave his side. If he’s annoyed he fails to show it, in favor of humming whatever song comes from his Echo Dot. 

You always got the solos in choir. You wanted to reminisce, but you’re too nervous to say it out loud. 

Even though it’s his job and he’s being a professional, you romanticize the experience, watching as he carefully puts the print in each liquid process. Your image blooms to life, and you feel your stomach churn as the photo develops before your eyes. 

After a final dip in the solution stopper, he places the first product in a bath of water. Even though you are mere centimeters away, you can clearly see the image of you swimming around the container. 

“Alright!” Jungkook hangs the finished picture on a pastel pink clothespin, tacking it in place. “Whaddya think?” 

Your breath catches in your throat, feeling heavy as you look at the image of you reflected in the glossy paper. You’re perched on your bed, a hand splaying between your legs as the other hand toys with the silk bunny ears. You’re leaned slightly, giving an ample view of your cleavage. However, the image of you is definitely different from being blown up in comparison to the negatives, and you squirm uncomfortably at your full display. 

“I look,” you bite your tongue, internally debating whether you like it or not. Not to spare Jungkook the theatrics you shrug, “It’s good.”  

The lack of enthusiasm seems to dissatisfy Jungkook however, as he has to take a double take and look back and forth between the image and the real thing. “What’s wrong with it, do you think Johnny’ll not like it?” 

“What?” you furrow your brows, breaking into a nervous laugh. “Johnny has a boyfriend. I just wanted his opinion. This photoshoot is for me, y’know? Just something to make me feel good about myself.” 

Jungkook’s lips morph into a little ‘o’, and you see a little bit of the child you once knew in the way he’s mulling over the situation. 

“Then can I give you my honest opinion?” Jungkook clips off the half-dried photo, holding it between you two. “Stop thinking so hard about every little thing you don’t like about yourself. If I was your boyfriend and you gifted this to me, I’d be creaming my pants. You look fucking sexy, all grown up since you cried in the fourth grade.” 

You’ve just been flung a litany of words you have no brain capacity to digest. Along with that, the immense heat you didn’t know you’ve been suppressing surges to your belly, low and simmering. Jungkook stares at you in earnest, despite his sudden gush of honesty, you don’t know what to say. There’s a dash of pink staining his cheeks, betraying the confidence he previously displayed. He stiffens when you don’t reply immediately and moves to clean his materials, his sudden bout of bold honesty quickly shrinking. 

“Y-you know,” you look down at your feet, “the only reason why I cried in the fourth grade was because you told me Santa wasn’t real.” 

Jungkook softens, tilting his head. “Sorry about that.” 

“Thanks though,” you gently reach for the photo in Jungkook’s grasp, looking at it without contempt. “But won’t your girlfriend be upset if she knew you were saying things like this about someone else?” 

He chuckles, shaking his head. “Well, if you looked through the rest of my Instagram story,” Jungkooks cards a hand through his already mussed hair, splitting the ends. “You would see that she’s not my girlfriend, but my tattoo artist.” 

For added measure, he wiggles his fingers in front of you, revealing pretty ink and silver bands across his knuckles.

“Oh,” your voice is feather light, and you’re sure you’re drooling as you stare far too long at the letters that mark his hands, curious as to what they symbolize. 

“So, as a singleton telling another singleton,” he continues, “I know it’s meaningless if you don’t believe it yourself, but I’m telling you, you’re attractive.” 

“Thanks,” you hold the picture tightly in your grasp, eyes flickering to the negatives in the room ready to be galvanized into a full-fledged picture. “Why don’t we wrap this up, huh? We can continue another time.” 

If he notices how much the paper wilts in your grasp, he doesn’t comment on it. “Are you sure? I know it takes a lot of time, but I don’t mind.” 

“I’m sure,” you force a smile, one hand on the lightswitch. “I’ll let you know when I’m ready, okay?” 

Jungkook swallows, nodding mechanically. “Okay.” 

“It was really nice seeing you, Kook.” you blurt before you could chicken out, letting the room bask in darkness a little longer so he can’t see your flustered state. “I’m not even going to downplay it, you look great.” 

You half-expect a cocky remark, or a little chest pumping from the compliment. At the sound of his nickname however, 4th grade Jeon Jungkook resurfaces and he shoves his hands in his pockets. “Like I said, so do you,” he replies easily, sending you a soft smile and opening the door for you. 

The door closes shut behind you and you exhale, patting your cheeks and willing for the chilly air to calm you down. 

When you get home that day, you shuck off all your clothes and crawl into bed. You cry out when the metal framing of your bunny ears stabs you in the back, and you fling it to some unmentionable part of the room. You reach for a bag of half-opened sour gummy worms, flipping open your MacBook to continue streaming the soft magical girl anime you’ve been hooked on these past few weeks. 

Not even Sailor Uranus can distract you; however, by the time it’s dark and you’ve run out of distractions, you finally pull the plug and unblock Jungkook from your list of contacts. 

Your phone buzzes, the incessant vibration relaying all the messages you’ve missed. 

[March 12th, 3:53AM]

You: https://drive.google.com/drive/u/1/folders/0343…

John Kook: ??? 

John Kook: you probably sent this to me by accident… sorry i clicked on it

John Kook: is it weird if i said you’ve done a massive glow up since the middle school dance?

[March 12th, 12:02 PM]

John Kook: are u mad

John Kook: you’re mad

John Kook: am i makin this weird by continuing to text you

John Kook: im making it weird. 

[March 31st, 6:24 PM]

John Kook: https://drive.google.com/drive/u/1/folders/049…

You tilt your head at the folder link, it was sent only a few hours ago. With a click, you’re enlightened to a set of digital photos. Your photos from your photoshoot, but not quite. They’ve been expertly edited, not too much to distort your looks, but only to enhance your features. A small, barely there smile creeps from your subconscious, ultimately touched by the gesture. 

John Kook: sorry if i pushed too hard today. 

Guilt overrides your nerves, prompting you to immediately press the call button on his contact. Not to your surprise, Jungkook’s light voice calls your name through the line after the second ring. 

“Don’t be sorry,” you blurt, forgoing the hellos. “It was the right amount of push, I feel better, really. If anything, I’m sorry. I blocked your number because I was scared to read your reaction.” 

You hear him sigh along the line, and you feel that breath ripple through your nerves, as if he’s right next to you. “It’s fine, I would’ve done the same thing.” 

“The pictures you just sent, they’re really beautiful. You did a good job.” 

“Thanks, I had a bit of help. I didn’t have to do much.” 

“Oh, did Mingyu come back from his meeting?” 

"No, I uh," Jungkook chuckles, and while you don't really know why, the sound is nonetheless pleasant. “It was mostly the lighting and coloring I fixed up. Didn’t need to do much since you already looked so pretty as it is.” 

You choke on your saliva. 

“You okay?”

“Y-yeah,” you cough, “just choked on a snack I was eating.” he hums in reply, and you pray he doesn’t hear your stomach fervently retort that you haven’t eaten since lunch. “So, I think I’m up for developing more of the film. When can I drop by?” 

“I’m free Saturday,” Jungkook chirps, “I have a shoot until noon but you can come anytime after that.” 

“Sounds good, I’ll be there,” you clutch the phone with both hands. “I can bring lunch. What do you like to eat?” 

“Oh, you don’t have to do that.”

“I’m already buying for Minghao,” you lie, “do you like burgers?” 

“I can’t say no to a good burger,” Jungkook’s smile feels almost palpable against the line, “do you remember our field trip to the national museum of history? We had burgers on the street!” 

“Oh, those were so good,” you moan, fuzzy memories of a middle grade field trip resurfacing to clarity, “but you ate like, ten of them!”

“I still get nightmares,” he warns, “don’t let me go to bed like this.” 

You giggle, letting your body meld further into your warm mattress. “Maybe I’ll just show up with ten burgers for you tomorrow.” 

“I’ll throw up on you, try me.” 

Minghao’s adjusting the frames on their display wall by the centimeter, and it’s pissing him off. 

“Ah, it’s off,” he mutters to himself when you walk in, indicated by the electronic bell. He turns to you briefly, pulling a leveler out of his overall pocket. “Doesn’t this look off?” 

“Uh,” you look towards Mingyu at the front desk, who is paying no mind as he continues scribbling on his iPad. You tilt your head towards your former college classmate. “It doesn’t look off from over here?” 

Tacking the leveler on one of the frames, he whines, “It’s five degrees off.” 

Mingyu puts his pen down to reach over the counter and grab the paper from your hands, steaming with the scent of fast food, “He’s been like this for hours, don’t mind him.” 

He doesn’t even ask whether the food is his, Mingyu sees grease and he claims. Reaching for an oil-wrapped parchment, he unfolds the paper to reveal a handsome burger with all the fix-ens. 

Barely satisfied, Minghao steps away from the art display. There is a sizable gap in the display, now divided between four artists instead of three. You wonder how Jungkook’s work will look amongst the other artists. 

“Cute ‘fit.” Minghao mumbles, nodding approvingly at your clothes as he digs into the bag for his own burger. 

You send a half-smile his way. If an outfit is Minghao-approved, that means you’ve gone above and beyond. At least, you tried to play it off like you didn’t try to look cute. It’s not like you’re intimidated by Jungkook, living with a major fifteen-year glow up. After all, he’s already seen more than you can imagine. 

Mingyu takes notice, eyes going south to where your white blouse meets your cleavage. You hurl a fry at his face, “Eyes up here, perv.” 

He scrunches his nose, lifting a greasy thumb to slide a manila envelope over to you. “Here’s the developed pictures. Intercepted Kook and I finished them this morning.” 

You frown, “Jungkook’s not done with his photoshoot yet?” 

“Oh, he’s been done.” Mingyu’s eyes roll back to one of the studios. “But I’m saying is, you got what you needed. So you can leave if you want,” but he grins at you, canines so sharp you feel his stare jabbing you in the proverbial neck. “Unlesssss you want to go in and say hi.” 

If he has any inkling of what’s going on in your head, it’s definitely confirmed when your face turns hot. Damn body, you’re betraying me! With a flourish you grab the fries from under Mingyu’s nose, along with whatever’s left in the fast food bag. 

Minghao’s smiling through his burger, knowing if he pulls any type of savagery his lunch would certainly be pulled from under his chin. 

“Whatever you’re thinking, drop it or the burger will be going in your ass instead of out.” You mean to sound menacing, but the Min-squared and their boisterous laughter follow you down the hallway and into the occupied studio. 

“Hey Jungkoo—wow.”

You’re sure you look like Alice, enthralled by the little wonderland she just stepped into. The set is beautiful, right out of a fairytale. It has a very old-romance vibe, like Morticia and Gomez Addams. There lay a couch made of the darkest, richest wood, with velvet red cushions covering the body. Across the floor laid hundreds of black rose petals, blanketing the floor in a sea of ebony. 

“It’s for a wedding, gothic themed.” Jungkook supplies helpfully, still fiddling with whatever he was looking on his digital camera. He’s looking utterly soft in a matching grey sweat combination, something that would easily disgust you during high school, but unfairly works with him. 

“The shoot must’ve been beautiful.” 

“It was.” 

“I uh, got this for you.” Your fingers start to sweat from clutching the bag so hard, and you place it on his work table. 

He finally looks up from his camera, giving you a wan smile. “I thought you got those for Minghao.” 

You mentally slap your cheeks, trying to ignore the way his smile made your stomach do somersaults. “He got his own. Your portion has a cookie in it, so.” 

His cute teeth unveil themselves at the mention of sweets, and you can’t help but smile back at the familiarity. 

The two of you take your time in enjoying your lunch, not meaning to stay but the very back of your mind hoping he’d like to share a meal with you. After all, Mingyu and Minghao are probably at the front relishing in your very obvious attraction. What can you say, first crushes never die. 

Between sips of your milkshake, you’ve taken to flipping through Jungkook’s portfolio. There’s a myriad of different subjects: beaches, people, the occasional squirrel. Each section of the portfolio feels like you’re being transported to a new side of Jungkook and his artistry, and you ached to know more. 

“Wow,” you point at an action shot of two girls in a dance studio, “this duo looks like Chungha and Hyoyeon.” 

He swallows his (second) burger, having the audacity to sink sheepishly in his sweater. “It is Chungha and Hyoyeon.” 

You nearly choke on your cookie. “That’s amazing.” you say breathlessly, looking closer at the image. In fact, the beautiful women photographed are famed hip-hop choreographers Chungha and Hyoyeon. You can’t imagine how good Jungkook must be to manage a photoshoot with them. 

As proud as you are of Jungkook, it reminds you that since middle school you two have lived completely different lives. You wonder if Jungkook gets these kinds of gigs all the time, hanging around with gorgeous, talented people like himself.

Jungkook says your name once, twice. He looks at you concerned, and you’re melting in his large carmine eyes. If he notices your usual overthinking, he doesn’t say anything, and gestures to the section at the end of his portfolio. “This isn’t my best work, but it’s one of my favorites.” 

There’s something familiar about this set. A playground with a busted swing set. Children riding on bikes and colorful class shirts. Ice cream melting on fists. 

Thirteen-year-old you hanging on top of your middle school’s leafless tree, clutching your baseball cap as you shade yourself from the sunset. 

“Was this the first time you took pictures?” you ask, thumbing the picture of yourself. 

“Yeah. It’s when I decided it’s what I wanted to do the rest of my life.” 

“I know we didn’t know each other that well and we’ve only recently connected but,” you give him a shy smile, “I’m really proud of what you’ve grown up to be, Jungkook.” 

He looks like you’ve hung him the moon and stars, his half-eaten burger loosening in his grasp. His lips are parted cutely, like a kitten who’s just been offered a fresh glass of milk. You cough at the sudden pause in conversation, feeling self-conscious of your impulse confession. You don’t even have it in you to be disgusted when Jungkook hastily shoves the second half of his burger down his throat, tips of his ears pink. 

Leaving him be, you press a palm to your cheek, looking at the wedding set. 

Jungkook downs half a water bottle before he speaks again. “Y’know, it would be a shame to clean up this set already. It was kind of expensive.” 

“Yeah,” you echo, standing up and kicking off your slippers. You kick your feet in the air, watching the black petals kiss across your ankles.

“I have an idea,” he wipes his hands on his sweats, “why don’t you go back home and get an outfit you really like. Lingerie, a cute outfit, whatever. Let me give you a photoshoot you’d love.” 

You look up from your petal dance, balking. “Jungkook! That’s not necessary, I told you the photos I took were okay.” 

“Yeah but, you didn’t seem entirely happy. C’mon, I got a camera and a beautiful set. Why waste it?” his hands naturally gravitate towards his charging camera, already turning it on. “I can do lighting, I know all your good angles. What’s stopping us?” 

Really, what’s stopping you? Your hands fiddle with your open flannel, the soft material comforting you as you look across the set. You try to imagine yourself, your body draped across the velvet pillows and black petals. Would it look good? Would you feel good? You think back to how you felt the first time, how scared you were when someone other than Johnny would be looking at your photos. You remember how something weird and sour contorted in your stomach when you scrolled through Jeon Jungkook’s Instagram, no longer the little boy you knew but a man who could have everything he wanted—

“Stop thinking about it.” Jungkook suddenly snaps, and you break from your reverie to catch him looking upset. It’s been awhile since you’ve seen him like that. 

“Thinking about what?”

“Thinking that you’re out of my league.”

“Excuse me?” 

“You were like this the other day too,” and he looks sad, and puts his camera down to come closer to you. “Why are you feeling this way. Is it me?” 

“Not necessarily,” you huff, hugging yourself.

“Do you not feel beautiful? Do you not like your body?” 

“No, I do.” you say to yourself, and you mean it. Even though there will inevitably be days where you may not feel one-hundred percent positive about yourself, you know at the end of the day, you love you and all its parts. “I don’t know, Jungkook. I had no problem letting Mingyu develop the photos originally, because he knew me in college and I was already sure of myself back then. But I guess when I sent them to you, I felt like I did when I was a little girl, y’know? Going through puberty, and worrying about what other people think.” 

And it’s not like Jungkook teased you or made you feel lesser of yourself. In fact, Jungkook was the student you wanted to be when you were younger. Someone sweet and caring, and unabashedly confident about himself. 

“I guess seeing you so successful and the fact that my stupid childhood crush came back from a time where I always felt low, made me feel a little insecure again.” 

Something sinks in and you feel hyper aware of how crushed Jungkook looks at your declaration. “There’s no leagues, you got that?” he says quietly, walking so close that he’s hovering over you, sneakers brushing. “I get it. I get unsure and insecure just like you. Hell, I was nervous this morning, wondering if you’d really come. We may not feel insecure over the same things, but middle school wasn’t that great for me either.” He makes a funny face, and you feel a smile twitch across your lips. “But it’s okay. Because we’re human and we grow. But now, you are successful. You’ve grown from your time growing up and you’re a wonderful, powerful person. I’m proud of you too.” 

“I know,” you mumble, leaning your forehead against his chest. His arms wrap around you in response, holding you snug.

“And for the record, I thought you were the most beautiful person in the world in fourth grade. Even though my world was pretty small back then, I can say now that what I thought back then still stands true.” 

You look up from his embrace, where he’s leaning down to press a slow, cotton soft kiss to your forehead. He backs up a little to read your face, and you give a tiny nod in response to signal it’s okay. Jungkook exhales in contentment, relaxing against your frame. 

“Thanks, Kook,” you crack a smile, feeling your insecurities slowly evaporate. You feel better, light, knowing that these negative feelings are only temporary, and you’re not alone. Being in Jungkook’s arms, an honest boy turned man you’ve known all your life, it feels almost like home. 

You two stay like this for a while. Exchanging feather-like kisses, feeling irrevocably young and hopeful. Suddenly feeling emboldened, you tug him by the strings of his hoodie to press a long, hot kiss to his lips. There’s a stutter, and you’re pretty sure Jungkook choked on his saliva at the sudden change of pace but you continue, letting Jungkook catch up and follow your lead. 

“Wow,” Jungkook pulls away and his lips are shiny and flushed. Adorable. You think 7th grade Jungkook would be rolling in his Naruto sheets if he knew you two would inevitably end up together. Conversely, 7th grade you would be squealing in your kitten plushie, proud that you managed to nab your childhood crush to live out all the fantasies you’ve imagined since the 4th grade. 

“Jungkook,” you let your flannel fall to the floor in a heap, only leaving your baby blue top in a thin ruched camisole. “I think I want to do the photoshoot. Can’t pass up these pretty petals, y’know?” 

He runs a hand through his hair, gaping. “Really?” 

“Yeah,” you press a wet kiss to his neck, “anyway you want me, baby. Full creative control. I want you to like this as much as I do, okay?” 

With the permission to hold the wheel, Jungkook’s lightheaded and spinning. His eyes rake up and down your gorgeous form, wondering how many good deeds he’s done in his past life to earn a right just as this. 

“In that case,” he presses a palm to your shoulder, pushing you to sit along the velvet cushion, “strip for me.” 

[20moonchild21]

𝗦𝗲𝗵𝗻𝘀𝘂𝗰𝗵𝘁 [𝗯𝘁𝘀]

⇉ 𝗖𝗵𝗮𝗽𝘁𝗲𝗿 1

[Pairing]

bunny!JK x human!oc, Jungkook x female!oc

[Warnings]

mention of abuse, injures, angst, fluff, mention of blood, fear

[Words]

6k

[author]

Wow, I am so excited! Leave a like, comment, recommendation or reply under the chapter!

If you want to read a really good hybrid!Jimin story, you have to read inferiority complex by @starlightauroras-writes! She is the cutest author ever, and that story definitely deserves to be read! So don’t wonder if you will find some similar details, this chapter was inspired by her!

Stay healthy

Mꨄ

[prologue ||| chapter 2]

“All right everyone. That’s it for today. Have nice summer vacations, and don’t forget about the deadline of your term papers. The clock is ticking.” The man in the very front of the big room said into his microphone, but the chaos was already breaking out among the people sitting opposite of him.

The girl sitting in the front row slide her fingers faster over the keyboard, tipping in the last piece of information into her laptop, before she saved her notices and closed the thin computer.

She looked up. The room was filled with loud voices and cheering, as soon as the professor had laid his microphone down onto her desk. Immediately, people stormed out of the lecture hall, pens and paper balls were thrown all or some people yelled to each other from all over the room.

The girl sighed at this scenario. You wouldn’t think that were actually adult people, that would soon be representation the countries law and order.

Half of the people in here didn’t really care about studying law, or becoming a judge or lawyer in their future. The only thing they care about was to enjoy their college life as long as possible, which mostly included no stop partying and passing the exams with the minimum amount of points.

The other half, who cared about passing the final exams with as much points as possible, wanted to become either lawyer for economical right, because it was the best paid, or for political right, because such lawyer would always be needed.

And there was she, the girl in the very first row, who neither wanted to be a lawyer for economic right or political right, nor was she there to party trough the nights with her friends. No, she had another goal for her future.

“Miss Carson.” The professor said, as he walked around the table, looking amused at the small, blond haired girl, that was still, or better said already, reading in one of her law books. “Yet again, I see you reading in a book. Do you ever do anything else?”

The girl looked up from her book, a small smile was forming on her face.

“Yes, I do.” She said and closed the thick book. “But I want to get as much information as possible for my term paper. I really need it to be perfect. It needs to be proof to any loopholes, and I think am on something big this time.”

The professor’s left eyebrow cocked up in surprise. If someone had not to worry about getting not enough points to pass this last hurdle, it was her.

“Is that so?” He joked, leaning slightly against the big, brow desk, arms crossed over his chest. “You know that you always deliver the best terms. I don’t think you have to worry about anything.”

The girl, who was now occupied with pressing the big book into her backpack, stopped in her movements. She knew that she was one of the best students, and she also knew that she could pass those exams with little effort. This wasn’t the problem.

"I know.” She simply said and looked up at the old man leaning on the desk. “And thank you.”

“I am really excited for your terms. What topic do you write about this time?” He asked curiously.

The girl hesitated for a moment, not sure if she should tell him or not. Her final paper terms, the terms that would decide whether or not she would get a chance to fulfil all her goals, were about a very sensitive topic. She was a 100% aware of this.

But then, he would read them either way, so there was no point in lying to him.

Her heart raced, as she opened her mouth. She had known her professor of law for almost 4 years now, but writing about such a sensitive topic, she didn’t know what his opinion was on that.

“I – ehm…” She coughed, before turning back to her backpack, pressing the book into it with one smooth movement. She closed the flap and swung the piece of fabric over her shoulder, before turning back to the older man. It was now or never, she had to show confidence. “I write about the equality of Hybrids in our political everyday life. I think – there are cases where laws had obviously been disregarded, ignored or misused by judges and lawyers. And there are not just one or two of such cases. There are hundreds of them every day, there are hundreds of Hybrids who don’t get the right of protection and free speech. There is no point in denying and ignoring this anymore.”

To say that his face held a shocked expression would be an exaggeration. He looked more like he tried really hard to process the information and to find a fitting response to it. After a few seconds of silence, he opened his mouth, just to close it again. He closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose between the index finger and thumb.

“Hope…” He said after another few seconds. “You are aware of me being not the only one who is going to read your term papers, aren’t you?”

“I know.” The girl whispered, still staring directly into his eyes.

“I appreciate your braveness to write your final exams about such a sensitive topic, and I am not going to lie, most of the professors committee won’t share the same opinion as the one you have.” His voice was calm and factual, but the girl somehow heard a touch of sadness out if it. “Are you sure you don’t want to write about political law? Your last exam was absol…”

“My term is based on facts. I neither made anything up, nor am I going to tell lies.” The girl quickly interrupted him. “There is no way someone of the committee can reject or doubt any part of my exam. I analysed every potential loophole and I can prove any of those lacks wrong, if someone say something. I even…”

“Okay, okay. I believe you, Hope.” The professor said, as he pushed himself away from the table, slowly walking up to the smaller girl. “I just want you to carefully think about what you want to specialize in the future. Hybrid lawyers are very little paid, and almost none of them gets any appreciation. You are aware of that, aren’t you?”

“I am not doing this for money or appreciation.” She quietly said under her breath. She knew he didn’t mean to sound harsh or mean towards her, but still, those words hurt. “I just – I think that I can change something in this world. There are so many people out there, that share the same opinion as I do, but are not brave enough to stand up and do something. But if I would go public with my mission, I think – I think something could really change.”

The man was still looking at the girl. He was stunned by the passion and emotions she spread while talking. He knew that her mission, as she called it, was the right thing to do in this world and that the things she said were true, but he also has been living long enough on his world to know how reality works.

He sighed as he moved his gaze away from her. Somehow, she reminded him of himself, when he way younger. She had a big heart, and a strong urge to question the thing people tell her. That made her one of the best students of his class.

“Okay.” He simply said and turned around to leave the room, but one last time he turned around. “Just be careful, Hope. This world can be hard. It will destroy you, if you are careless.”

“I will prove you that this will be worth it.” She yelled after him, as he passed the door leading to the hallway. She knew he couldn’t hear her next words, because they came out as a whisper, a promise to herself. “I know it will worth in the end.”

The night sky above New York was clear. Not a single cloud could be seen, and the dark sky looked like it was sprinkled with thousands and millions of small, shining dots. Right in the middle, the round an bright moon.

The girl took a deep breath of the clean air. It was definitely the right choice to rent an apartment a few minutes outside of New York’s centrum, where the day never seemed to take an end. But here, there were not much car driving by and pollute the air. There weren’t many people to scream at each other, because in the city trouble you couldn’t understand a word. Just peaceful silent.

The conversation from earlier was still playing round and round in her head. Her professor wasn’t a bad person. In the past, he was nothing but helpful and cooperative when it came to sensitive themes or problems. But in the end, he was like any other human: he kept his mouth shut and saved himself a lot of trouble.

But could she mind that behaviour?

Way down deep inside of her, she felt something. She just felt that deep inside of her, there was a small flame flickering. It was waiting there to be lightened with something, and she just knew that she was meant to change something.

She felt this sparkle since she was a little child. The name ‘Hope’ was given to her by her mom. Hope was born in 2029, shortly after the first Hybrids were created. Her birth caused a lot of trouble. Being born with a heart disease, the doctor predicted her to be dead within the following hours. But she hadn’t died. She survived because she got a second chance to live.

With 9 years, she had her very first encounter with a Hybrid. Her mom, who was a doctor at the local hospital, was called late in the afternoon. She was a single mom at this time, and with no one there to take care if the small girl, she decided to take her with her to the hospital.

The hospital was a very big building right in the middle of New York. It was about 10 stories hight, with several different areas for different people. They had a special section for children, for chirurgical cases, a section for people with cancer, a section for people who were about to die and want to spend their last day in a nice surrounding , and lastly, they also had a section for injured Hybrids.

Since Hybrids were half animal, half human, you couldn’t just give them to the veterinarian. This was the reason that the politicians decided that every hospital had to create a small section for Hybrids. Always isolated from the rest of the population, because some citizens were still afraid of the new creatures, and they insisted on locking them up for safety reasons.

The small, blonde haired girl had been strolling around the large building, while her mother was needed in the operation room. She hadn’t paid any attention to where she was going. Everything in that hospital had been so interesting for this small girl, she just wanted to pull in everything she saw.

As she had passed one of the patients room, she suddenly saw a movement in the corner of her eyes. She turned around. On the other side of the glass window, stood a small boy her age.

He was just standing there, staring back at the girl with wide eyes. He had shaggy brown hair that fell smoothly over his forehead, big dark eyes and was slightly taller than the girl.

But what fascinated her the most about this boy, was the pair of white ears sitting on the top of his head. They were small, covered by thick, fluffy white fur and looked absolute adorable.

She took a step closer to the boy, who was still staring at her, the same way she was staring at him.

His ear twitched slightly to different sides, as if he was trying to hear or sense ever noise coming from around him. Behind the boy, Hope saw something waving through the air. She gasped slightly, when she recognized it to be a white, fluffy tail swinging slightly through the air.

The girl had heard stories from her friends in school, that Hybrids are dangerous. They said that they would attack people if one wouldn’t be careful. They said that Hybrids don’t have control over their animal side. They said Hybrids would turn into beasts as soon you were alone with them. But this boy didn’t look scary at all. He rather looked pretty innocent and… somehow scared.

She was fascinated by this boy. She wanted to get to know him so badly all the sudden.

The girl lifted her hand, that had limply hung by her thigh. She took a step closer and carefully laid her hand on the cold, glassy window. The boy stared at her hand. His ears had stopped twisting around, and were instead standing high in the air, his eyes were wide open.

He looked down at his hands, and was about to lift it as well, when suddenly a nurse came up behind the small girl.

“What are you doing there?” She almost screamed, as she grabbed the girl by her shoulders, pulling her away from the window. “You can’t just stroll around in this section. It’s dangerous.”

The woman was pulling the girl behind her, further and further away from the boy. When Hope turned around one last time, her heart broke. The boy’s ears were flatly pressed against his head, while he fluffy tail was tightly wrapped around his leg. His eyes showed nothing but sadness.

In this moment, the girl new that this boy was threatened wrong. Why would it be dangerous for her to be with him. She just couldn’t believe someone as cute as this boys would be able to hurt someone. He was just a child.

Hope shook her head at this memory. She was still wondering what his name was, what kind of Hybrid this little boy was and why he was in the hospital. She wondered what happened to him after she was pulled away, and if he was doing fine right now. Maybe he was thinking about the moment with the 9 year old human girl too sometimes. Maybe he –

A sound ripped her out of her thoughts. She flinched heavily but stopped in her tracks, not sure if her brain had tricked her. She turned around to both side, looking for something that could have caused such a noise. But there was nothing.

Confused, she started walking again. She was clearly overworking herself, if she was already hearing strange noises. Luckily, her apartment was just around the corner. Just one more minute. As she kept walking, she slung her arms tightly around her waist. The air of the night was suddenly much colder that a few minutes before, and with just a thin cardigan to cover her, she felt slightly cold.

Crack. Crash.

The girl shrugged when a crashing sound rang through her ears. This was obviously not an imagination from her brain. That noise came from the dark alley, that she was just about to pass. Immediately, she took a small step backwards.

If someone was hiding in there, waiting for the right moment to come out and hurt her, there would be nothing she could defend herself with. A shiver ran down her spine. She should take her feet and ran away from that scary, dark alley like her mother had always told her, but somehow she couldn’t. Something was pulling her towards that dark passage.

She gulped loudly, but decided to take the risk.

“H – Hello?” She carefully called into the darkness, hoping to not get an answer, so she could just keep walking home. But if someone was hurt in there, she had to help him or her.

“Hello? Is someone there?” She called again when she didn’t received an answer.

She carefully took another step forward, trying to make something out in the darkness. Further down the alley, she saw the faint outline of some trash dumpsters standing around, surrounded by many trash bags.

She let out a breath of relief. No one was in there. It was probably just a cat jumping onto one of the dumpsters, which caused that noise. She turned around, and started walking again, when suddenly she heard another, clearer noise.

“mmmhhh…”

This time she was sure that it was a person causing that noise. With shaking legs, Hope decided to walk a little further into the alley. If someone was lying there hurt, he probably couldn’t answer her calls. And if someone was waiting there for her…..she didn’t want to think about it further.

She took baby steps into the dark alley, still careful if someone was hiding there. When she was about 5m inside the dark passage, she was completely surrounded by darkness. She couldn’t make out a single outline of something, not even of the dumpsters.

With shaking hands and no other idea left, she grabbed for her phone inside her pocket. She pulled it out and clicked on the small flashlight symbol.

With the small source of light, she tried to make something out.

About 3 meters in front of her, she saw a red, brick stone wall climbing up into the air. A dead end.

She aimed the light into the right corner, where she saw nothing but trash bags and dust laying messily around. Some of them were ripped open by cats, giving away a heavy and disgusting stank. She wrinkled her nose. People were so wasteful these days…

She aimed the light into the other corner, where the trash dumpsters were placed. It was tight and trashed there as well. No chance someone could hide here. It was probably just the cat theory or she really got paranoid. She shook her head and was about to leave again, when something caught her eyes.

Between the wall and the last dumpster was a small crack left, a crack with bare feet sticking out. The girl tried to hold back a scream. She only saw that pair of bare feet. Nothing more. Would there be a body to those feet? If yes, which body, and if no….

“H – Hello?” She whispered/yelled again. “Who are you?”

When she aimed her light into the direction of the feet, they were pulled away with a sudden movement, now hidden by the dumpster. The girl took a deep breath, as she forced herself to take another step forward. She aimed the light once again in the direction of the crack. She saw those feet again, and this time even more. She could make out a pair of legs connected to the pair of feet, along with two arms, that were tightly wrapped around the legs.

She could tell that this someone was a boy, because his hands and feet looked much bigger than hers. Slowly, Hope bent her knees so she was on the level of his sitting body. He obviously was scared, and her standing above him, flashing him with her flash lights wouldn’t probably help him to feel less scared.

When she sat on her knees, she lifted the light again, letting it rose up his body. His feet and calves were bare, as well as his arms. Everywhere on his pale skin, she could make out smaller bruises and scratches. His feet and fingers were ripped open and bloody, and his arms and legs were almost as thin as hers.

But she was even more shocked when the light hit his face. The biggest pair of brown eyes she had ever seen were staring back at her, filled with nothing but pure fear. His plump cheeks were covered with dirt, bruises and wet stains of tears. His lips were bloody and crusty, also covered in dirt and dust. His dark, shaggy hair was covering his forehead, and on the top of his had sat a dark pair of large floppy ears.

The boy quickly seemed to snap out of his shock stare, when he realised the girl staring at him, not saying anything. He tried to push himself further backwards towards the wall. The arms around his bent knees tightened, as he let out a small whimper. His floppy ear moved forward to cover his eyes from her gaze.

It was obvious that this boy was a bunny Hybrid ,but that didn’t change the fact that Hope was shocked from the boy‘s appearance. He clearly needed help.

„Hey....boy.“ She carefully whispered into his direction, not wanting to scare him more away by a loud voice.

But despite her effort to not sound too scary, the injured boy began to slightly shake stronger.

„Hey...don’t be scared. Please, I don‘t want to hurt you. I promise.“ She felt the tears swelling up under her eyes.

The poor boy must have been through hell and back, or else he wouldn’t be reacting like that. She was pretty sure that someone had caused those injures on his body. It was ridiculous to talk about a change of minds, when the truth was, that nothing had changed at all. Human race was still as ignorant and careless and addicted to control as they have been before.

The girl took a deep breath. She needed to stay calm and focused, or else the bunny Hybrid would feel her fear. After all, his senses were animal-like, and he had probably heard her heartbeat or smelled the sweet running down her neck.

A loud, deep noise caused a yelp leaving the girl‘s and the boy‘s mouth. The sky above them had darkened with heavy clouds, and the smell of rain slowly replaced the clear night air. She turned her attention from the sky, back towards the boy who was ,once again, shaking with fear.

Hope knew what she was going to do next would be a heavy invasion of his privacy, but it was the only way, that might would help him in this situation.

She slowly let the backpack sliding down her shoulder, careful to not make too much movements. When it laid down on the floor, she pulled down the zipper of her grey cardigan.

The zipping noise that her jacked had caused, must have made the Hybrid curious, because almost unnoticeably, he lifted his right ear that was still covering his eyes. Through the small gap, he carefully peeked at the girl in front of him, watching as she pulled off the jacket, leaving her in just a thin, blue shirt.

A whimper left is mouth, ear covering his eye again, as the girl crawled closer into his direction, stopping just a few inches away from the bunny Hybrid. She leaned her body forward and placed the soft piece of fabric over the boy’s trembling shoulders. She didn’t know if the trembling had increased because she came way too close to him, or because of the sudden coldness that filled the alley way.

„No...p – please...no.“ The boy tried to pull away weakly, as his shoulders were met with the soft fabric of the jacket.

His was raspy and cracked a few times as he spoke.

„Please, don’t be afraid of me.“ The girl tried again to win a small amount of the boy’s trust, so he would at least look at her. „I am not going to hurt you. See, the jacket is warm, isn’t it?“

The boy didn’t answer. He just kept sitting on the ground, with his arm around his knees and his eyes closed.

Meanwhile, the clouds had started to let go their watery content, and small wet drops fell from the ground.

„Please, you need to come with me. It’s not safe out here at night, and a thunderstorm is raising up.“ Her voice was almost begging for him to trust her. She didn’t want to leave him here alone, injured and all by himself. „My apartment is warm, and I have food and something to drink for you. Please, trust me.“

The boy didn’t move an inch. He curled himself further together, hiding away from her. It was more than obvious that he was scared, and slowly she was losing hope that he would come with her. Plus, she couldn’t force him either.

She sighed and slowly stood up from her kneeling position.

„I will be back.“ She simply said to the boy, as she turned around to leave the alley.

Thanks god her apartment was just one minute around the corner. If he didn’t want to come with her, she would at least bring him a warm blanket for the night and something warm for his stomach. He must be freezing so much with just a pair of shorts covering his slim body.

She was about to start walking, when she heard him whimpering behind her again. The Hybrid had removed both of his ears from his eyes, which were now staring at her intensely. As if they were begging her not to leave the alley. She kneeled back down onto his height.

„You don’t want me to leave, do you?“ It was more a question to herself, but to her surprise the boy nodded almost unnoticeable. His eyes were opened wide and glassy, as his lips began to tremble slightly.

Meanwhile in his head, he was battling with himself. He was injured and cold, and this girl promised him a warm place to spend the night. She had a really soft and calming voice, that he would listen to all night of he had the chance.

But then, she wanted to leave him. Not that he was not used to that, but no one ever had talked to him in such a calming voice. For a short moment, he really believed that everything was going to be okay again.

„My apartment is just around the corner.“ The tone of her sweet voice rang through his ears again. „I won’t force you to come with me, but you are welcome to spend the night there, if you like.“

„Home, Sweet Home.“ The girl joked as she pushed open the white door leading into her apartment.

When the boy behind her didn’t show any reaction but staring at her, she eventually noticed that her joke wasn’t appropriate referring to the situation they were in. A shade of red began to spread over her cheeks, and she quickly stepped inside.

The boy meanwhile hesitate to step inside. He shoved his bare feet back and forth over the cold marbled tiles of the hallway, while his fingers fiddled the hem girl‘s jacket. His eyes were fixed on the ground.

„You can come inside, you know?“ She said with a soft voice, as she held the door open for the Hybrid boy.

When the boy took the first step inside, he immediately was surround by the most comfortable warmth he had ever felt before. Slowly, it flowed under his skin, filling every last corner of his body.

His feet didn’t touch some cold marble anymore. Instead, the wooden piles felt soft and also warm under his bare feet. He didn’t knew that the floor could feel this soft.

But the most prominent thing hitting him, was the smell filling his nose. The apartment smelled like....the girl.

The scent of a living being was something very special. The smell wasn’t something you could compare to the smell of vanilla or green apple or the smell of sweat. It was more like a kind of an aura that surrounded a human or Hybrid. An individual feature, that most human aren’t aware of, but yet, everyone has his own scent.

“Ehm…” The girl in front of him cleared her throat, and the Hybrid could smell how uncomfortable she felt.

Scared of being punished, he took a small step backwards, pressing his ears closer to his head. This gesture wasn’t unnoticed by the small girl. She took a big step back as well, carefully not to make her movements to jerky.

“I am sorry.” She quickly rambled. “I didn’t mean to make you feel uncomfortable. I just – I just don’t know what to say. I – Oh my god, you must feel so cold. I will get you some clothes. Just wait here.”

The boy watched her slim form disappear behind a door down the hallway. A few seconds later, she came back with a pile of fabric in her arms. He wondered what she wanted to do with them.

“I am sorry, but I don’t have any male clothes.” She said, as she dropped the pile onto the grey sofa, which stood in the corner of the living room. “But – but this are my largest clothes. Maybe they will fit you?”

The boy was still standing by the door, looking with wide eyes around the room, before their gazes met. He wasn’t looking in the clothes that were sprawled out for him on the sofa. Instead, he kept looking at the girl, but not as if he was studying the girl’s features, more like he was waiting for a comment.

Unsure what to do, Hope stepped a few inches away from the couch, wanting to give him more space.

“You can try them on. Just – just choose the ones you like.” She almost whispered, as she pointed her finger onto the clothes.

Though the boy nodded, his head dropped down. His hands were slightly shaking, as he made small baby steps towards the sofa. Carefully, he lifted his hand up towards his shoulder and pulled off the grey cardigan she had given him earlier. He placed it carefully onto the sofa, looking up at the girl, as if he was waiting for a permission to keep going.

It took Hope everything to not stare at the bruises and scratches that were covering his upper body. Trying not to break down in tears, she forced out a smile and nodded, showing him that it was okay to keep going.

He then he did something she hadn’t expected. Without showing any hesitation or shame, he grabbed the hem of his dirty shorts and pulled them down.

“Oh – ehm – okay. You want to change here.” She quickly turned around, not wanting to invade his privacy even more. But by the way he didn’t show any hint of hesitation, she could guess that he was not used to get any private space. “Okay keep changing, I will just go to the kitchen and make something quick to eat.”

With her head as red as a tomato, she made her way over to the kitchen. Luckily, the kitchen was connected with the living room by small hatch, so he would see her and she could watch him.

Her hands were trembling with anger. She didn’t want to think about what the poor boy had been through. She didn’t want to think about how many times he had been humiliated or showed off, just to pleasure someone’s evil mind.

In this moment, she made a promise to herself. She would fight for this boy and any other Hybrid out there. She would show him all the love and affection she carried in her heart, just to prove him that he is worth living.

But this incident wouldn’t be the last one at this day. When she was done warming up the soup from the night before, she carried the pot over to the table, that was already set. Over the whole time, the boy had watched her carefully, and every time their eyes met, he quickly dropped his gaze to the floor, as if he didn’t want to pull any attention onto him.

“Come one, dinner is ready.” She said, as she carefully sat down at the table. “You need something warm in your stomach.”

The boy nodded quickly, before he slowly walked towards the table. As he was just a few inches away from her, he bent his knees and kneeled down onto the floor next to her, then he folded his hands in his lap and sunk his head down.

“I know it isn’t much, but….What are you doing?” The girl asked confused, as she watched the boy.

Scared that he might had done something wrong, he dared to look up at the girl. To his surprise, she didn’t look mad or angry at all. Her big brown eyes were wide open and her mouth was slightly parted.

“I am sorry.” The boy whispered with his raspy voice, as he closed his eyes. “I am sorry.”

“You – you don’t have to be sorry for anything. You didn’t do anything wrong.” The girl whispered back with a shaking voice.

Seeing the boy so broken and scared in front of her, made her heart break. A big tear slipped out of her left eye, dropping onto her leggings. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, before she looked at the boy. She didn’t want to make him feel more insecure than he already was, so she whipped the tear away with the sleeve of her shirt.

“I am sorry. I am a little bit emotional.” She said, still drying her stained cheeks. “You don’t need to sit on the ground, you know? Please, take a seat on the chair.”

The Hybrid looked up from his kneeling position. He didn’t know whether the small girl was serious about him being allowed to sit on the chair. At the table. With a human.

He gulped. Should he take the risk and actually take a seat? What if she tricked him? What if she would punish him for sitting at the table?

Slowly, he pushed himself up from the ground. The girl was still smiling at him, as he pulled the chair backwards. He sat down and immediately folded his hands together in his lap, like he was supposed to do.

He watched as the girl took the plate that stood in front of him, putting some ladles of soup onto it. He felt his mouth watering as the smell hit his nose. He wanted to take a taste so badly, but he would have to control himself, not wating to make a wrong move.

“You don’t have to wait for anything. You can just eat, if you like.” Once again she showed him this gentle smile, before she lifted her spoon and began to eat her own plate.

Carefully, he lifted his own spoon towards his mouth. The soup tasted amazing and every nerve on his tongue seemed to explode because of all the different and new flavours.

He took another spoon, and another one, and another one, not caring anymore if he was doing something wrong. This was his first warm meal in days, and his first ‘human meal’ he had ever eaten. His hunger took control over him.

“You seem to like it.” The girl chuckle as she watched the boy shoving one spoon after another into his mouth.

The boy’s head shot up, nodding quickly. He shoved the last spoon full of soup into his mouth, leaving back an empty plate one the table. As he realized that he had eaten all the soup, a small shade of red spread over his cheeks, while his ears pressed themself further onto his head. Almost sad, he laid the piece of metal next to the empty plate.

“You can have another plate, if you like.” She said and his head shot up, nodding quickly once again.

They boy shoved soup after soup into his mouth, as if this was his last meal he would ever get to eat. But Hope didn’t mind. She watched him closely.

He was so absorbed in eating his dinner. His cheeks, that were so pale out in the alley, had now a slight shade of red spreading over them. His eyes didn’t show fear anymore, instead they were held a small sparkle every time he saw her refilling his empty plates. And his ear weren’t pressed against his head anymore, but they would sometimes go up and down while he was eating.

All in all, he looked absolute adorable.

“I – I never introduced myself.” The girl suddenly realized. “My name is Hope. I live here in this apartment. You don’t have to tell me your name or what happened to you, if you don’t want to. I just want you to know, that in this house, you are safe. No one is going to hurt you or force you to do anything here, and you are more than welcome to stay as long as you like.”

The boy’s movements slowed down a little bit, but he didn’t turned his attention off of his meal. He kept eating for another 5 minutes of silent, before he laid his spoon down. He folded his hands again in his lap and suddenly mumbled something under his breath.

“I am sorry, but I didn’t understand what you said.” She said softly, as his big brown eyes stared into hers.

“My name…Jungkook.”

[prolouge ||| chapter 2]

[murdereraisuha]

Vargas Camp part 2 (2/2)

The 2nd part of my reaction to the 2nd part of the story! Also tries to summarize the events of the story, but please take it with a grain of salt since I’m not fluent in Japanese. Previous part is here.

Alright, so we ended off with Ruggie having a plan for someone to run to get the headmaster, trying to convince the others of it, then Floyd proposing that they should defeat the shadow. He reasons that the shadow is too fast for anyone to try and escape it, so the only other option is to face it.

what the hell is this pose that I paused on fhgsgsldfs. Anyway, Sebek has a plan for attacking the shadow: if they lure it to the swamp, then maybe its legs will get slowed down or trapped by the mud. Floyd likes the plan, but Ruggie questions how they’ll get to the swamp. They can’t use anything like Jack’s unique magic since they don’t have their pens... wait! Ruggie realizes that they have the magic stones that they mined. By combining all the stones they have, they could cast a unique magic once without too much blot.

So, Ruggie makes a plan. He and Jack in wolf form will lead the shadow to the swamp in a roundabout way while Floyd and Sebek go on ahead to the swamp so they can launch a surprise attack. They huddle up to discuss further so we don’t get to hear cause they gotta build ~ suspense ~ I guess.

They’re all set now! Except for Floyd. He thinks the plan is lame. He wants something in return for cooperating (sasuga octavinelle). Ruggie offers to grant him one request... as long as it can be completed within 30 minutes. Floyd’s satisfied though, which is good cause something’s rustling in the bushes.

Oh shit What is that dmeon looking guy. he growl.

Alright, wolf form Jack time! HFSGHSLHGSDGLHSDHGSKHLG THE TALKING ANIMATION 

IT LOOKS SO UNNATURAL I’M LAUGHIGN SO HARD

alright alright back to the story. The shadow goes to chase Jack & Ruggie, leaving the other 2 guys alone. Jack runs through the forest to the swamp, where he turns back to normal. The shadow approaches them, but on Ruggie’s signal Sebek and eel form Floyd burst out to grab the monster and sink it into the swamp. However, with some really weird sound effects, the monster braces itself to remain in place with enough force to gouge the ground.

Ruggie suddenly uses “Laugh with Me” on the monster! He makes it walk forward into the swamp and it sinks.

aw yeah payback time

hold on are you fucking serious THAT’S VARGAS! WAS THIS SHIT ALL A TEST? BRO RUGGIE HAD TO USE HIS UNIQUE MAGIC WITHOUT A PEN HE’S PROBABLY GOTTEN BLOT AND SHIT WHAT THE FUCK bro you seriously putting your students in danger like this for whatever the hell this is???? BRO the sound effects are super annoying too it’s almost as uncomfortable as the pokemon musharna’s cry

The guys can’t beat the Vargas monster and they’re tired from using magic. However, the sun comes up and they can now see that it’s Vargas.

fuck everything I did yesterday for april fools sir I hate you now.

They all go back to the campsite for Vargas to explain. Everyone is back there and safe. Jamil and Riddle explain that after they were snatched, they found themselves tied up by the ghosts in the middle of the forest. Vargas now explains that this was the final task for Vargas Camp. The people who went missing earlier were given “instructive guidance” (教育的指導) somewhere else in the forest because of trying to skip out and were supervised by the ghosts. Anyway, for the task, they cleared it good. Everyone claps and throws confetti for the final 4. There’s still lots of time left though? 

Hold on hold on Deuce was definitely not trying to skip out though. Did he get kidnapped by someone else? Anyway, with the tasks done, Vargas instructs them to clean up. Awww Silver just smiling at Sebek without saying anything is cute. People tell the final 4 to go rest while they do the cleaning. The final 4 meet up and Floyd questions Ruggie about his having to use his unique magic.

Jack and Sebek get worried about him getting blot, but it’s soon revealed that Ruggie had more magic stones hidden away that he didn’t tell them about because he wanted to sell them. Blah blah blah anyway Ace and Leona return. Leona gets his dropped necklace back from Ruggie, Floyd threatens to squeeze Ace for skipping out. Finally, everyone notices that Deuce still isn’t back and he wasn’t with Ace & Leona.

They consider telling Vargas, but Floyd thinks that they can find a lost kid on their own. The group mostly agrees, but Ruggie and Leona don’t want to go. However, Jack convinces Ruggie to go cause he might be able to pick up more magic stones in the mines to sell, then Leona goes too since he doesn’t want to deal with tents and clean up. 

So it’s the final four, Grim & MC, and Ace & Leona all in the mines now. They find a cauldron in the middle of their path... and they find Deuce! In the cauldron? He tells them to be quiet, but Sebek starts shouting at him. Something’s coming at them...

HELL YEAH MORE FOOD FOR THE FAN THEORISTS! It’s a different color that the prologue one!

Uh what is Leona asking Ruggie to do? Why is he doing bunny hops with his hands behind his head? Oh it’s to reveal the magic stones in his pockets hfldlhfdfhds how many of those things did he squirrel away!? Alright time to fight.

Blah blah blah people launching cool attacks against it. Wow they make you fight it twice ingame. Alright it dead now. Deuce is also super exhausted.

FELLAS

Anyway, some more nonsense about Ruggie selling magic stones happens. Floyd cashes in his 1 request to make Ruggie go back to camp immediately instead of try to get more magic stones. The group returns to camp where Vargas has already met back up with Crowley. They inform the teachers about having to search for Deuce and the monster, but Vargas thinks it’s a lie, an excuse for being late. Anyway, they all meet back up with their clubs and there’s the end.

“I wanna do it again... Maybe I’ll go with Jade on his next trip to the mountains.”  🥺 FLOYYYYYYDDDDDDDDD HHnHGngghf that’s so cute if I don’t see fanart of this soon I am going to eat an entire calculator. okay okay ending this post now before I freak out more hhhhhhhhhhh

[hansensgirl]

salvatore | iv

series summary — Bucky Barnes doesn’t believe in love anymore. Especially after the tragic, unknown death of his wife, Natasha. He thinks it’s stupid and a waste of time and- oh my. Hello there, you. There you were, with your notebooks and your novels, writing your heart away. He’s hellbent on saving you from this nasty world, his elusive neighbor that has him under the stupid spell of love. You soon find yourself trapped in a tragic love story with Bluebeard, not Prince Charming.

chapter warnings — dark!bucky, dark themes, stalking, voyeurism, cameras, stealing, slight angst, smut, female masturbation, perving, male masturbation, violence, mentions of cheating, fluff, feelings, noncon/dubcon, 18+

pairings — Dark!Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader, Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader, Bucky Barnes x Natasha Romanoff, Natasha Romanoff x Steve Rogers

word count — 2,961

a/n — finally! finally, i posted! please leave some feedback if you’d like! happy reading, and if you do not like any of the things in the warnings, do not read this!! also thank you to @mariessecretfantasies for beta-ing, ily! check her wonderful stories out please, you won’t regret it!

“Oh, bunny.” She cooed, tracing the scars that were scattered about Bucky’s body. Bucky whimpered and opened his eyes. The redhead smiled down at him, wearing a simple sundress and heart sunglasses. She twirled her tongue around the cherry flavoured lollipop as if she was sucking his cock. The old Bucky would’ve had a boner in just a few seconds, but the sight of Natasha had startled him deeply. “We should go to the Valley this weekend, Bunny.” She pulled the sunglasses down to the bridge of her nose. “Yeah, so you can visit Steve huh?” He spoke, but they weren’t the words that left his mouth. “Of course, Nattie.” His fingers ran through her red locks on their own accord. He tried to pull them away, but instead he pulled her closer. She set the lollipop on the dashboard of the Buick. She crawled into his lap and began to unbuckle his belt, desperately craving his cock. She suddenly left his belt and grabbed the knife that was in his thigh holster, bringing it up to his throat. “You know Nattie, I used to think the world of you.” He growled through gritted teeth. She pressed the knife closer to his throat, her hands shaking slightly. “Yet now, you barely even cross my mind.”

Bucky shot up suddenly, Natasha’s name leaving his name in just a whisper. One that when he himself couldn’t hear. He was drenched in sweat, his naked form all sticky. “Fuck.” He cursed, pulling off the thin grey sheet that barely covered him. The gruesome dreams replayed in his dark mind, sending chills down his spine. It was the first dream he had about Natasha in a while, and he didn’t know what triggered it. He pulled on his boxers and sat on the bed idly, wondering what he should do. There was no way he would go back to sleep, he didn’t want to face Natasha again. His eyes fell onto the laptop on his bedside table and his lips worried a smirk. It was devilish, almost as if Satan cursed himself upon Bucky. He peered out of the window and managed to see through the pitch black darkness that filled your room. You had a pillow between your legs and your sheets were a mess.

You clearly were knocked out, probably still hazy from that hangover. He sat near the window and opened the laptop to enter his password. He carefully typed your name and added his favourite number at the end before pressing the arrow button. It loaded quickly, given that he had harassed the guy down at IT for speedy wifi and advanced technology. He tapped into the cameras that he installed in your house one afternoon whilst you went for a quick run. He rewinded the tape to when you were in the shower, washing your hair. The water had to be cold as he inspected your body language and facial expressions. Seeing the water spill over your body had his cock throbbing between his thick thighs. He watched you slip a hand between your thighs, rubbing the pearl of nerves that had your knees buckling and your eyes rolling back into your skull. No wonder you were knocked out. Your mouth fell open to let out a silent scream and your ministrations on your clit sped up. Bucky’s large cock became fully erected, leaking with pre-cum. He grasped the base and swiped the tip with his thumb, before beginning to stroke himself.

“Fuck.” You both gasped, throwing your heads back.

He swore under his breath and watched you edge yourself. He wondered how many times he could edge you before you couldn’t take it anymore, before you would let those tears fall just for him. He would love to see you break under him, though he knew you were already slightly cracked beneath the lines. You palmed your breasts eagerly before spying the shower head with a smirk. “Such a naughty, dirty girl.” He degraded, letting a moan slip past his plump lips. It was almost as if you heard him, only saying one word. “Yes, yes, yes, yes!” You came undone on your frail, delicate fingers that could barely reach your g-spot. Your creamy cum coated your hand, and you pulled your fingers away from your honey pot. You had the urge to suck your arousal off of your fingers, and Bucky could tell. You hesitatingly stuck them in your mouth and you sucked them clean, which pushed Bucky off the edge of the cliff. His streaks of cum painted themselves on his abdomen, wishing you were there to catch it all in your mouth. He sighed as his cock became flaccid, and you washed your sins away with steaming hot water.

He switched cameras and fast-forwarded to when you dried yourself off with the fluffy towel. You bent down to wipe your legs, giving him a view of your pussy. He paused the camera and admired you for a bit, his breathing becoming more laboured. Your freshly-shaven lips glistened with water droplets, but he wished it was his cum instead. He shut his eyes and muttered incoherent words under his breath. This isn’t wrong! I’m just making sure you’re safe, that’s all. He mindlessly watched your moisturize and get ready for bed, all while jamming out to your favourite song. He could watch you swing your hips for hours, watch you flip your hair until you felt dizzy. And he could, but it’s not as good as he wanted. He wanted to be there with you.

Bucky decided to try and get a few hours of shut-eye, knowing that he’d deeply regret it if he didn’t. He hadn’t noticed that your breathing never slowed. You laid in bed, with your eyes shut. You were teetering on the verge of falling asleep, but your thoughts kept you up.

You wondered how you had managed to fall in love with your neighbour. The neighbour that you had only known for so long. It couldn’t be love, because love is dumb, right? It’s just a crush that makes you feel all sick and happy, a crush that lasts forever. You tossed and turned in your bed, trying to get some rest for once. But sleep never came. Instead, your heavy eyes watched the sun rise until it nearly blinded you. You sighed and rolled out of bed. Your body was almost on auto-pilot. You went downstairs and made yourself a cup of coffee, along with a bagel. You somehow found yourself pulling on a sundress that was a little too revealing for your taste. You admired yourself in the mirror for a bit, wondering what Bucky would think of your outfit. Would he be disgusted? God no, he’s too much of a gentleman. You pushed the negative thoughts out of your mind as you were determined to have a good day. You stared at the book that sat on top of your night stand. Ever since Bucky had gifted it to you, you never opened it up.

You could either read the classic that he gifted, or spend the day looking for a nearby job that would pay well. You chose the former. You gathered all your notebooks and pens, hoping that maybe inspiration will strike you. You went to open your back door, just to find it unlocked. You furrowed your brows with confusion, trying to recall whether or not you locked it. “Probably didn’t.” You muttered under your breath. You shook your head with disappointment — something that your mom constantly would do to you. You shut the door behind you and sat on the sun chair. The sun was bright — maybe a little too bright for you. But it didn’t seem strong enough to harm your soft skin. You flipped to the first page and began to read, but you lost track a few times. You imagined yourself as Catherine, and Bucky as Heathcliff. The story was already wrong in so many ways, but to picture yourself as one of the characters was almost too much. You couldn’t help it though, you really couldn’t. You stopped at the second page and decided to retire the book for the day.

You played with your pen and chewed at your bottom lip, trying to think of a way to start your new story. “Hey, neighbour!” A deep voice called out. You turned your head just to see Bucky peering over the tall white fence. You silently waved at him and gave him a friendly smile. “Got any sugar for me to borrow?” He joked, making you giggle. You shook your head as you played along with him. He put on a frown that made you a little lovesick. It was chilling almost, as if he had practiced those puppy eyes. Your smile faltered slightly, but you kept it on anyways. A flash of darkness struck Bucky when he saw the slight dullness to your lips. “So, writing the next best novel?” He questioned, even though he already knew that you were just writing something for your Tumblr. “Not really, I just have the muse to write.” You meekly explained. He let out an understanding sound, nodding his head as your words sank in. Well, this is awkward… “Why do you write?” he asked, the question making you shoot your head up in a flash. “Pardon?” You scoffed incredulously. “I know you heard me, if you don’t want to talk about it then that’s fine, just curious. Sorry.” He looked down with guilt, making your heart break slightly. God dammit!

Bucky’s manipulative resolve nearly broke when he nearly smirked as he saw your face fall. He began to move away from the fence before you called out his name. “Bucky! Wait, I’m sorry!” You apologized, getting up from your seat. Bucky smiled and turned around to face you. He once again wore those puppy eyes that manage to manipulate you. You apologized profusely, your notebook and pen scattered on the freshly grown grass. “I’ll only accept your apology if you let me hang out with you, doll.” Doll, the nickname had you smiling sweetly. His stoic gaze burned into you as he admired your smile. So fucking gorgeous. “I’ll open the front door for you-” You started, turning away from Bucky. “Actually, I think I can hop over this fence.” He admitted, making your eyes bulge out. Before you could say another word, Bucky swung himself over the tall white fence. “Oh my god.” You whispered in shock, realizing he avoided stepping on your flowers. He smiled at you and began to look around your garden. He acted as if he hadn’t seen it already, as if he hadn’t broken into your home already.

Well, he didn’t break in. You just didn’t let him in nicely.

You noticed the gardening gloves that he donned. “You garden?” You asked with pure curiosity. “Huh? Oh, yeah.” He answered. “Do you always garden? Or have you just started?” You wondered out loud as the heat of the sun grew. He took in your form as he wondered what lie he should choose. “Just started, any tips?” He peeled the gloves off as he spoke. The way he maintained eye contact was intimidating, almost scary. “Eh, not really… Mrs. Carter helped out actually!” You exclaimed, making the awkward tension even worse. Bucky nodded and stalked closer towards you, making you gulp thickly. Why were you so nervous? It’s not like he would hurt you, right? “Relax, I can hear your heart beatin’ fast.” He smiled down at you softly. You hadn’t realized how much bigger he was than you. He towered over you and even blocked the sun from blinding you. “Are you nervous, baby?” He nearly let out a coo when you nodded shyly. The way the tension between you too changed into something else was practically elusive. “I could go for some nice lemonade to be honest.” He smirked.

“L-lemonade?” You questioned. Your brows knitted together with confusion. What did he want from you? “That is what I said, isn’t it?” He looked up at the bright sky as if he was pondering to himself. “O-of course.” You walked away from him and nearly tripped over your feet. He had turned you into a nervous-wreck — you couldn’t even bear to look him in the eyes without shying away. With every few steps you took, you glanced back at Bucky, who was staring right at you. You felt his cold eyes burn into your back until you were out of his sight. Bucky quickly grabbed your notebook and flipped through the pages, before pulling his phone out. He snapped photos of every single thing you’ve written. From novel ideas to entries about your life. “Maybe if you let me in then I wouldn’t have to do all this, doll.” He grumbled. As he flipped through your notebook, something fell out. It landed on his foot but he barely felt the impact of it. He reached down and picked it up, realizing it was a polaroid.

Before he could turn it over, the sound of your feet pattering on the wooden floor screamed at him to set everything back to normal. He hurriedly closed the notebook and picked up your belongings, setting them on the small glass table. He shoved the polaroid in his pocket and smiled at you. “That was fast- where’s the lemonade?” He questioned, making you smile meekly. “It’s inside.” Your voice was small, quiet. He clearly enjoyed the fact that you were intimidated by him, that you were scared of him. You led him into your home and he acted as if he hadn’t been in it already, marvelling at every aspect of your living space. “Can you um, take your shoes off?” You requested, but your tone of voice made it seem like a demand. He raised a challenging eyebrow at you and took his shoes off at a painful pace. C’mon doll, being so rude to a world hero? If it weren’t for me you wouldn’t even be alive at this point. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to be so rude!” You apologize quickly, pouring him a glass of lemonade.

Bucky flashed you a smile that was both sweet and sultry. Oh, the things he did to you. You handed him the cup and watched him drink it all down. Your lemonade-making skills were a bit rusty, but it seemed to you that he enjoyed the refreshment very much. Maybe a little too much. “Y’know, I might have to steal this recipe from ya. It tastes just like the way my ma used to make it.” He stared out into space blankly, his features softening completely as he spoke of his mother. You felt giddy with his praise, and he let out a coo as you looked at the bland kitchen tiles. It’s weird that you hadn’t noticed the faint footstep print. You frowned and tried to think back as to when you stepped into the kitchen with muddy shoes, and you couldn’t recall anything. “What’s wrong doll, hm?” Bucky asked, leaning over the counter. “It’s nothing.” You spoke too soon, which told him that in fact it was something. “So, have you planted any flowers?” You questioned, changing the conversation. Bucky’s jaw clenched as soon as you did, he hated that. “Yeah, some roses, some marigolds and some cosmos and I have yet to plant some asters.” He divulged into the topic of his garden and he slowly began to light up in a way that had you smiling. “The flowers are pretty, just not like you.” He spoke loudly. Your shy smile turned into a grin, and you thanked him.

“Just the truth, doll.” Doll, how many times had that nickname slipped from his lips? No, wrong question. How many times did that nickname make your poor little heart flutter? Bucky smiled as he heard your the pace of your heart beats pick up for the nth time. He walked around the counter slowly, all whilst staring at you like you were his prey. You took a step backwards but his hand on your waist stopped you. “Why? I- I don’t know what you want. Y- You’re confusing me, Buck.” You stammered, but your tone held so much frustration that he understood where you were coming from. “I want you doll, but not like this. No, one day.” His words baffled you and so did his actions. His grip left your waist but it still lingered, and he grabbed his gardening gloves. “Tomorrow, tomorrow we’ll figure this all out, doll.” He spoke softly, smiling at you. He slipped his shoes back and he left you all alone in the kitchen. Your mind replayed everything that had happened, and you were bewildered. “James Buchanan Barnes, could you be any more confusing?” You wondered aloud.

Bucky shut the door behind him and took off his shoes, leaving the gloves on the small table that was beside the door. He walked into the kitchen and plucked the Stark Industries tablet off of its charging pad. With a few gentle taps, he watched you clean up the house impassively. He chuckled, knowing that he had twisted the wires in your mind so much you couldn’t be left some with your thoughts. His long, lithe fingers paused the live video and he admired the way your tongue peaked out of your supple lips in concentration. He spotted the notebook once again and recalled the polaroid he had purloined from you. He pulled it out of his pocket and flipped it over, his eyes going wide at the image that you had kept.

Oh doll, how could you betray me like this?

[lettersnorth]

It'd be nice to catch the breeze! It'd be fun! That's what Cravendy had thought on a whim. But now that she was up here, after crawling through several spaces far too cramped for any normal-sized person to fit through, she determined the effort to get here far outweighed any benefit. And eventually, she'd have to find a way down. Cravs puts that off for later and looks over the Lilly Hills.

After the meeting with Momori, Aislinn comes across a note left on the desk of her study. A request from Cravendy for Aislinn to engineer an undetectable tracking device. Questionable at best, downright shady at worst but also surprising, coming from Cravendy. She knows the clock is ticking on her own issues but before returning to her business in Ishgard, she goes in search of the oddly absent Seawolf to find out exactly why she would need such a device.

With a bit of searching Aislinn finally finds the woman out on the widow's walk on the very top of the Company House. What was it with the people in her life and high altitudes? She clambers out onto the high walk, with a puff of exertion after squeezing herself through the small attic crawlspace. "Nymeia's breath." she mutters under her breath as she appears and then, "Here you are." louder now, for the Seawolf to hear as she dusts herself off.

Cravendy waits in fearful anticipation as something is shoving its way through the crawlspace. When Lin finally emerges, Cravs doesn't know whether to laugh or cry from surprise. "What the 'ell?! Lin? What brings ye up 'ere?" "Ye look like yer 'alf dust bunny." Cravs, having been 'trapped' out here for quite some time, has had ample time to brush herself off.

Aislinn takes a moment to peer over the edge. The view up here was rather nice. She might even make use of this walk herself sometime when she needed some quiet. She made a mental note of it as she stepped back. "You." she replies, her voice as matter-of-fact as ever. "I came across the note you left on my --" she pauses, noting a bit of dusty cobweb still clinging to the edge of her spectacle frame. She sputters and swiftly brushes at it with a wave of her hand. Clearing her throat, she continues, "..my desk. What's this business about an 'undetectable tracking device'?"

Cravendy stifles a giggle as Lin struggles with the spiderwebs caught in her hair. "If ye've got 'alf a mind to come up 'ere again, we should bring in a team of professional cleaners. It was 'ard for me too, and 'arder still with bugs and splinters every ilm."

"But, ah. Mm." Cravs scratches the back of her head and turns away. This was something she had shared with Riylli and Rising - would Lin respond in the same way? Normally, Cravs would brush off the request, switch the topic. But with two out of two on her side, maybe...just maybe Lin would be receptive as well.

"To put it shortly, I need it to incriminate someone of bein' an arse."

"We should." Aislinn agrees, momentarily pulling the glasses from her face and inspecting them with a frown to be sure they were clean. "I'd wager no one's set foot in the attic in an age." Fitting the frames brusquely back on her face, she passes Cravendy a skeptical look. "Not saying there's not a time or place for that but that might be putting it a little too short for me. Is there a longer version?"

Cravendy grimaces, reacting as if Lin is suggesting she needs a tooth pulled. "Shit...the longer version? Uh, the full version? Ye really got time for that? Not that it's anythin' big." She wheezes. "I mean, relatively, it's small, in the grand scheme of Eorzea burnin'."

The more Cravendy hems and haws, the more Aislinn's concern grows. "I'm not asking for the -full- story if you've not the inclination. But you've got to admit that if you're asking me to hand you a device like that, I need to know at least a little bit as to why. Not only for the obvious reasons as to whether we're wandering into a gray area with a -tracker- but to inform the parameters of this project. What sort of range, for how long, and so on."  she explains.

"There's a loanshark that's botherin' someone I want to 'elp. I figure if I can bring 'em down, they won't be able to pester 'im anymore," Cravs eventually admits, arms crossed. "But on the surface, their record is clean. So I...I may 'ave broken a law or two in order to find some dirt."

"I need the tracker to prove the loanshark's up to no good. Evidence that'll be 'arder to trace back to my own lawbreakin'."

Aislinn expels a troubled breath. It wasn't the lawbreaking that bothered her. Far be it from her to lecture anyone about something like that. She stares out at the vista over Cravendy's shoulder with a considering tilt of her head. In the end, she couldn't hold it against Cravendy if she decided to hold information back. It wasn't like Aislinn herself was as forthright as she could be with her either. "A normal tracker would just tell you where a person's been. A trail on a map. Is that going to be enough?"

"As long as this tracker can't be sensed by Limsa's best, can lead me to wherever she's storin' 'er illegal goods, then it'll be more than enough." Cravs puts a finger over her lips. "....Oh. And if it can somehow be 'idden in a vat of toad ooze."

"I'm 'opin' to bait 'er with it, ask a favor from Dirtpatch, 'ave everythin' legally look....bad, tear down 'er reputation. Maybe even toss her into gaol." Cravs nods, satisfied. "A sound plan, eh?"

Aislinn shoots a glance over to Cravendy, a small measure of amusement sparking there despite her misgivings. "A vat of toad ooze." she echoes. She inhales and tries to think it through like it was a reasonable problem set and not at all the odd request it was. "Acidic? That depends. Corrosion could be a problem if you needed it to last longer than a few bells. And what makes you think she'd drag toad ooze to wherever you're hoping she goes?"

Cravendy frets by tugging on her braid. She didn't think about that, and after harvesting all that ooze, her hands did feel a bit itchy. "Uh, maybe? Is this somethin' ye can test? It's safe for me to dunk my 'and in for a while. It's sittin' in a barrel in my room if ye want to look at it."

"She's a spice trader, both the dust ye put on food and the, er, 'strong' stuff. I 'eard toad ooze is used by pixies for psychedelic effects, and it sure as 'ell ain't easy to come by. She won't resist tradin' for a vat for it, I think."

"Not just a loanshark, then." Aislinn notes. A bit of fire flickers through her eyes. The drug trading detail seems to have drawn the woman's ire. "I can test it." she affirms. "Once I know what I'm dealing with I can decide on a case of some sort. A shell that would protect the device. But that might limit my options, if it still needs to let an encrypted signal through. Maybe something with a delayed activation? She wouldn't detect it at first if she were looking. But then it'd wake itself up somewhere down the line not too long after she took the bait." Aislinn is clearly thinking out loud now, hooked by the challenge set before her.

"Then it'd be a matter of knowin' when to activate it. It could take a couple of suns for it to make it to 'er," Cravs ponders. "So when it activates, ye think she could sense it then? If that's the case, the moment it goes off, I better be ready to jump into action."

"'ow are ye gonna make a delayed shell like that? I've 'eard of slow actin' medicine, but a slow actin' tracker....and an undetectable one at that. Think that's in the realm of possibility?"

The planning and sketching going on in Aislinn's mind is halted by Cravendy's question like a pen scratching wildly off the boundaries of a page. "What do you mean, could she sense it? I thought she might, at best, scan the vat of toad ooze with her own equipment. How would anyone sense a ping of a device going online? Does she have something I don't know about?"

"That's the thing." Cravs snaps her fingers. "I 'ave no clue. If someone was storin' illegal goods, what sort of security measures would they take? I'm imaginin' an empty barn, maybe 'idden by some trees, but...eh. I dunno. What do ye reckown?"

"Depends on how sophisticated an operation you're dealing with." Aislinn answers with a half shrug. "Is this just a side job for her, something to make a little extra gil or is this her livelihood she has to protect? Is she an arrogant person who thinks she'll never get caught or is she paranoid? How long has she been at this?" Aislinn waves a hand through the air as if to say 'and so on and so forth'. "Let's plan as though it's the worst case scenario. She's wily, she's paranoid and she's been at this for years. If so, hiding something in the product might not be the best way to outsmart her." Lin drummed her fingers against her arm in thought. "Who's meeting her to make the trade?"

Cravendy considers this, is relieved to have asked Lin about such matters. "'ow do I put this...what I'm 'opin' to incriminate 'er of wasn't illegal until the Admiral got in charge of Limsa. So at the least, she's been hidin' her stuff for five years. But I would lean on longer, since hidin' from the law is one thing, hidin' from a rats nest of pirates is another."

"As for who's makin' the trade...a couple of old friends of mine. Nostalgically inclined friends."

"You're trying to catch a pirate." Aislinn said with a dawning realization. A conflicted look flitted across Aislinn's face for the briefest of moments. She had recently found reason to feel differently about certain pirates than most. But Cravendy was speaking of a drug trading, loanshark pirate, she reminds herself and stays the course. In every business there was the good, the bad and the downright ugly. "Do you think money will change hands? Or a drink of some sort. I could work with something like that." she shakes her head. "Either way just give me some time to think and I'm sure I can come up with something. When are your friends meeting her?"

"I wouldn't call 'er a pirate. Too old...or...." Cravs looks into the distance. Mindred might have been a pirate in her heyday, and that explained a lot. She blinks. "Ahem, anyway, when everythin' 'appens is up to me. When everythin's ready I can tell my friends what they need to know."

"Back when I 'ung out with 'em,  exchanges were drink free, actually. Everyone 'ad appearances to keep up, and no one wanted a deal to go sour cause Bob can't keep their 'ands off the bottle. But money, aye. Money was exchanged."

Aislinn nods. "Alright, then. As I said, give me some time. I'll come up with something." she hesitates, knowing time wasn't exactly something she had in spades at the moment. "Sooner rather than later, you can be sure."

"No rush. I expect we'll 'ave our 'ands busy with Momori's bullshite anyway. Cheeky lil' red eyed bugger." Cravs shrugs. "It ain't as pressin', is what I'm sayin'."

Relief seems to relax her upon hearing that Cravendy didn't need this device right away. "She says this is all about saving the star. But I still don't trust her an ilm. She isn’t the altruistic sort." Lin turns for the door, preparing to scoot herself back through. "Just...be careful with this drug deal business, alright? Generally, they aren't the best people to be messing around with, you know?"

"There's some other angle she's playin' at, I'm sure of it. Either that, or she's just plain bad at actin' normal." Cravs laughs - she's heard stories about Momori's attempts to smile. "Aye, don't worry. I've dealt with 'er kind afore. Not against 'em, but eh. Same difference."

With the details ironed out, the only thing left now was to figure out how to get down. The passageway through the attic beckoned to the two, promising hair full of webs and dust up the nose. Cravs groans.

[crimson-cring-art]

Monster

One Shot 4

Credit to @dannydarzuski for commissioning my story.

   

The sun had begun to go down and the sky was a nice clear purple now. The storm that had rolled in earlier had come and gone by now. It left the grass looking sparkling in the sun's exiting light. 

Bunny waved at the people she had sat down with to have a drink. 

“Hey Michael! Have you seen a monkey demon...gray fur?” He looked up from cleaning off the counters. 

“Nah, mostly been in the tv room playing games. At least until Jared decided to dive through the tv yelling that he was Master Chief.” okay that was funny...not for the tv though, that tv was huge. 

He waved as Bunny went into another room where a guy was laying on the floor. He was trying to keep up with the ceiling fan or at least that's what he said he was doing. He wasn’t actually moving. Bunny tried to ask him, but he just kept saying he had to keep running. 

Bunny walked out onto the porch where Jared and Tommy sat. Tommy was nursing his wounded hand, and knee after the wrestling match in the living room. Jared had his head bandaged probably from jumping through the tv. 

“Hey Master Chief...you seen my friend?” 

“OH the chick monkey!” Tommy yelled pointing toward the living room. “Stayed in that corner for the longest time till she went out onto the balcony with that guy in the dark cloak. Had funky glowing purple eyes. Wonder where he got the contacts from. She left with him...they went out the back.” He nodded before picking up a bottle of water and practically downing it. He was going to have a nice headache in the morning no doubt. 

    Bunny walked out onto the balcony and spotted the cloak down at the bottom of the step...no footprints after that point. Bunny looked awestruck, doesn’t that mean...they flew? 

“This isn’t right…” 

Bunny planned on going to Ming Yue’s apartment in the morning and seeing if she was there. Perhaps she just went back inside and went home? Yeah that seemed more logical…

The morning after

    Bunny sighed as she climbed out of her car. It was early in the morning and Bunny had a cup of coffee in her hands as she walked over and knocked on Ming Yue’s door. 

“Hey! Ming Yue! Ya ditched me last night! WTF.” Bunny called out and waited patiently. It was still rather early. 

“She didn’t come home last night sweetie.” The old woman in the house across from them called. “I sit on this porch most of the time knitting. I haven’t seen her at all. Not for some time.” The woman nodded to no one. 

“When was the last time you saw her?” Bunny asked. 

“Oh about a month ago I think. She had come through the garden to go get some groceries. Come back about an hour later and you can smell the cooking. Such a nice, quiet girl too. I suppose the vampire got her. He’s been taking sweet young ladies like her. We will never see them again.” The old woman's fingers were shaking from the effort of the knitting. She didn’t seem to mind. 

“Vampire ma’me?” Bunny asked. The woman looked up at her and nodded. 

“That's what I said sweetie. He’s been going around eating the young woman. But no one saw his face. Only his retreating tail…” The woman shrugged her shoulders and watched as Bunny climbed back into her car. 

“Oh, something tells me you're about to step in it, vampire beastie.” The old granny cackled. 

The library wasn’t too far away. Bunny grabbed as many books as he could from the shelves that were directed to her by a stuttering librarian. 

Books were strawn out on the table, and paper and pen were under Bunny’s expectant hand. Every time something popped up she would write it down. Sipping at the coffee in her hand well into the night. Finally through the last book she closed the folds and put it onto the cart and sat back. 

“Got a paper due on vampires? College students do that. Just come in, and pour themselves over the books and leave with a full notebook and an empty coffee cup.” He moved his glasses up onto his nose and started to push the cart toward the back. 

“Got any books on Sun Wukong?” She asked, rubbing her eyes. 

“Yeah...tons.” He said looking over his shoulder and walked her toward another shelf. Luckily for her the library was open 24 hours because of the college's night classes.

Bunny sipped another cup of coffee and looked through the books. 

“But then he was cursed! I guess that's what you get for pissing off the gods. You get cursed to live forever on flower fruit mountain, a husk of your former self only able to eat blood, never able to see the sunshine.” The librarian told her. She slowly stood up when she realized the sun was coming up. Shit she needed to go see someone about taking her to flower fruit mountain. 

Bunny stood up and stretched putting another set of books back onto the trolley

“Done already? There's a whole thing on how they drink blood, and make other people into a vampire.” Bunny shook her head. 

“I uh...no thanks I gotta run.” The guy was nice, but he really loved Sun Wukong lore. She put the cup into the trash and left. 

“She was a nice girl…” He said as he stacked more books onto the trolley and started down the aisle again.

The guy smiled as he watched her leave. Unbeknownst to Bunny the guy slowly faded away. The ghost of a once librarian. 

Bunny sighed as she looked up at the large blue boat. The large man leaned forward stretching himself out as much as he could. Yoga was one of the things he did well. The other was tea, and all those cats. Bunny called up to him. 

“Heya Sandy!” She yelled. He straightened up and leaned over the side. Crossing his arms and smiling down at her. 

“You're up really early. Do you sleep, walk or something?” 

“Nope, I haven’t slept all night.” She climbed up the ramp onto the ship. “Need to charter a ride. There's an island past the volcano island. Know of it?” Sandy nodded, setting up to start making tea. 

“Yup...Flower fruit mountain. It's all the way up there...but you had better have a weapon when you get there. It's swarming with...odd creatures.” He shivered, holding out a cup of tea. “That’ll wake you right up.” 

“Is there nothing your tea can’t do?” She asked, sipping it and smiled. It tasted like ginger and cinnamon. 

“Alright, but it's going to take a good 8 hours to sail there though. So you better get on that weapon making.” He motioned to one of his cats, the cat patted the button and the boat took off. “I hope you know what you’re doing…” Sandy whispered

Eight Hours Later

Sandy watched as his charge set foot on the island. A spear in hand, there wasn’t much to the desolate place save for the trees, and the sand. The large mountain off in the distance shone brightly over the darkened sky. At least Bunny got some sleep while she was on the boat or she would have been incredibly tired right about now. 

After pulling out the map the ghost had helped her plot she was able to locate a deep cave within the crevice of the mountain. The whole cave smelled musty and dank. As if wet cobwebs were the least of her worries. For in front of her sat a throne. Upon the throne sat a monkey with glowing golden eyes. 

“Are you Sun Wukong?” She jumped nearly out of her skin when the torches along the walls lit up. It showed her more pronounced the monkey on the throat. Through weathered red pants, and a torn frilled shirt she could see the tanned fur of the monkey on the throne. 

The light seemed to ward away any of the monkey king's minions. Each one running toward the back of the cave or toward the blackened shadows that were provided as the sun had gone down by now. 

“I would like to ask for your services. A vampire monkey has stolen a friend of mine. He’s got black fur, purple eyes, tall, and can fly…” The monkey king put his head on his hands and sighed heavily. 

“Not tonight...I have not had anything to eat, and I am most tired.” He put his chin on his knee as he curled in to look at her. 

Bunny growled as she turned around. 

“Ass hole…” She grumbled a few more choice words as she walked back toward the mouth of the cave. A hand landed on her shoulder and she turned to glare at Wukong. 

“I didn’t say I would never help you. How about this...a favor for a favor? I help you, and you help me?” He sleepily said as he grinned at her. He did have rather sharp teeth. 

“What would you want help with?” She asked him. 

“Oh nothing much, but what's too big for me to help you find your friend? You did come all the way out here to get my help.” Wukong sat back down on his throne. 

He was right, she did come all that way to get his help. 

“Alright, I’ll help you, if you help me.” She shook his head. Wukong gave her a sideways grin. 

“Perfect…”

[hitsuackerman]

Unpredictable (Overhaul x Reader) pt.16

a/n: ya’ll~ brace yourselves for this chapter xD ngl, i was blushing when i wrote this~ he might be a bit ooc here butttt i think it fits the story quite well ;)

warnings: this cannot be read solo, fluff

Links: part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7, part 8, part 9, part 10, part 11, part 12, part 13, part 14, part 15, part 17

Masterlist to my other fics: here :)

Overhaul’s waiting list: @jjk-biased @infinite-universe-love @dirtypride @blackymomo03 @azzie @purple-rabanito​ @meximorrita @awesomeee19​​ @celestial-kanzakii​ 

“Did you actually tell Tsukauchi that you want me to be your partner for the stakeout?”

The day had now ended and Overhaul’s jacket rested on your shoulders. Your phone leaned on some stacked books as you typed away on your laptop.  As the both of you were chatting, you were typing some reports that you had to pass in a couple of days. On the other end, he was busy scribbling notes and signing papers.

“Is there a problem?” His eyes were focused and glued to the paperwork.

“None that I can think of~” Your fingers stopped typing. Fiddling with your fingers, you chewed on your lower lip. “I just, uhh, wasn’t expecting that request.”

“Tsukauchi was no hindrance and cooperation was present.” He put his pen down and rested his chin on his palm. His focus now on his screen. This would have to be the 6th video call this week, something he lowkey didn’t mind. Though, he kept his voice low knowing the others might overhear. “However, your company is one I prefer more.”

“Or in short, you miss hanging out with me?” Giving him the finger guns, you saw how his face morphed into one with disgust and embarrassment. Watching how he picked up his phone and face palmed, you knew he was about to end the call. Not on your watch. “WAIT! Chill Overhoe, I was just kidding.”

“Excuse me?”

“Depends what you want the excuse for.” Gods, you loved teasing this man so much.

“What did you just call me?”

“I called you Overhaul.” You tilted your head and pouted. “Did I not? Are the paper works getting to you, Chisaki?”

“There are days where I wish to use my quirk over the phone.” Thankful his mask was still on, the lingering smirk was covered. His eyes gave it away but he could care less. This was one of the moments where he could feel vuln-whut? “Today is one of them.”

“I’m not into sadistic kinky shit.” By now, you were grinning from ear to ear. Seeing how the corner of his eye indicated the corner of his mouth curled upwards was a win for you. If only he wasn’t wearing that god damn mask. At least it wasn’t the bird beak. “I prefer them sensual and slow. The type who does the opposite when I tell them to go slower~”

“Isn’t that statement contradicting itself?” Not that he’d know. Sexual fantasies were something he couldn’t help but to actually touch a woman’s body? Be so intimate and actually exchange thousands of bacteria through your mouths? The thought made his spine shake with the amount of grossness he couldn’t fathom. But a new question crept in, were you pure in that sense?

“That’s the whole point, Overhoe.”

“I honestly wonder why I tolerate your behavior.” It was more of a mumble but loud enough for the conversation to continue. Absentmindedly fixing the papers, he found himself done for the day and headed back to his room.

“You tolerate me because I’m the only one who has the guts to act like this.” Twirling your index, you pointed at yourself. “But in all seriousness, if you want me to be professional around you, just say so and I’ll take a step back.”

“There is no need for that.” Now in his room, his tensed shoulders relaxed a bit. Sliding his tie off, he placed it on his man-vanity. “Your behavior is unacceptable if it were them but exceptions are made from time to time.”

“You make me sound like a guilty pleasure.” That was meant to be said in silence but your mouth moved faster than your mouth. Activating your quirk, you failed to stop the blood flow heading towards your cheek.

“You are.” Taking his mask off, Overhaul watched as you failed to control the blush on your face. The small hitch your breath took made him want to see just how far was he going to go to get reactions from you. Placing his phone on the dock, he sat down and began to unbutton his dress shirt. His peripheral focus was on you.

‘OH GOD OH GOD.’ Your leg bounced up and down as you tried to look unfazed. Sliding the tie off was hot enough, and now the possible outcome of seeing him shirtless was now coming into the light. Surely he was doing this on purpose, no doubt about it. With what little sense of pride you had, you found the will not to watch his gloved hand slowly revealing more and more of his skin. ‘GEI WHAT THE HELL DO I DO IN THIS SITUATION?!’

‘Ya go with the flow baby girl! Teasing is better when it’s two sided! Live in the sexual tension and see if either of you break!’ You could hear him in your mind. It was so loud it made you think if he were actually telepathically communicating with you.

Tease him back, huh?

Taking in a deep breath, you began to test the waters.

“Didn’t take you to be the stripper type, Chisaki.” Luckily, you paused at the right time for him not to notice how your breathing stopped when his golden eyes met the camera once more. “But, I can’t refuse a little show coming from THE Overhaul.”

“Are you suggesting something, my sweet guilty pleasure?” He stopped unbuttoning his shirt and leaned on the backrest. What he did not expect was for your camera to turn off. Chuckling at the little exchange, he proceeded to undress himself. “Still there?”

You were still there, physically. Other than that, you knew you lost the game. There was no way to recover from him calling you his, HIS, guilty pleasure. Fanning your face, you tried to regain composure before finding the courage to turn the camera on again. Placing your phone screen down, your mind thought about what it’d sound like if he whispered it in person.

‘Fuck. Damn it.’ Your grip on the hem of his jacket was astronomical. Patting your chest, you felt the heat in your face cool down. “Yes. My signal got bad all of a sudden.”

“Don’t start something you can’t finish, (l/n).”

Grabbing your phone, you threw it back onto your bed. The holy sight of a shirtless Overhaul made you shriek in silence. Covering your face, you forgot about your quirk and felt all the blood rush to your cheeks. Peaking at the screen, you quietly observed as he was waiting for you to turn your camera back on. The teasing look on his features made him even more irresistible.

“Put on a shirt, Chisaki.”

“Later.” He stood up and good lord his V-line looked divine. “I have to end the call for now.”

“Whyyy?” Turning the camera on, Overhaul managed to see how your eyes went up and down.

“I’m filthy. I have to bathe.” Taking his belt off, he tossed it to his bed and walked towards his dresser.

“Any chances you can bring your phone with you?” Overhaul is the death of you but as of the moment, you didn’t care. He was shirtless and strutting his stuff. That’s all that matters.

“We haven’t reached that point yet, my guilty pleasure.”

“Stooop calling me that.” You hid your face with your free hand. Still peaking at the screen to find him smirking again.

“You are my guilty pleasure. I’m not going to deny that, (y/n).” Taking the phone from its dock. He stared at how flushed your face was. “You may not be pure but you always manage to plague my mind at the most random times. If I were to speak my mind, I would want to meet up and have dinner with you but those wretched heroes are starting to make a move.”

“We can always rendezvous here…” You offered without thinking. The words that came out of his mouth were intoxicating. “I doubt they’d think you’d actually drop by and watch Betflix in my unit.”

“Are you inviting me over?” He raised a brow.

“N-not necessarily.” Looking away from the screen, your mind began to come up with a plan as to how you could let him enter your apartment without being seen or being too suspicious. “I mean, the offer’s always up…”

“Heroes are trailing me, (l/n).”

“But the heroes don’t have a map of your base. They just have a rough outline of the area and that’s it.”

“Just say it, (l/n).”

“Pick you up in 30 minutes?” Your heart was beating rapidly. Was he actually going to do it?

“Give me 40.”

Ending the call, your jaw dropped and for a moment you were not sure what to do. Covering your mouth, you recalled the conversation and repeated his last words. 40 minutes. He would be arriving in your apartment in the next FORTY MINUTES. Jolting to the living room, you frantically fluffed the pillows and checked for any dust bunnies. Grabbing the vacuum, you found yourself cleaning your house at 9 in the evening.

After a good 10 minutes of rough vacuuming, the unit was now silent and clean. Scurrying to the supply closet, you grabbed a can of Kysol and sprayed the entire room. It wasn’t the best thing to inhale but if it meant sanitation, then so be it.

Heading back to your room, you quickly grabbed a pair of sweats and a shirt. Nothing too conspicuous you reminded yourself. Folding the jacket and placing it on the vacant side of the bed, you took your keys, wallet, and phone on the bedside table.

Now inside the elevators, you made sure to take a quick stop at the 3rd floor before heading to the basement. Closing the doors to your car, you took your phone and dialled Gei.

“A 9pm call.” Gei answered. “Either you’re bored as hell in a case OR somethin else boutta happen, hmm?”

“I’m getting Overhoe and he’s gonna chill in the unit.” You spoke fast but he took it all in.

“AAAHHHH!! QUEEN TODRICK! QUEEN BEYONCE! FINALLY!” Gei could hear you starting the car. Putting his wine glass down, he sat properly and took out his fluffy fan. “Are you gonna get some action, boo?!”

“No. We just…” What were you guys going to do? “It was a spur of the moment decision. I followed your advice and teased him and lived in the sexual tension and now here I am. Driving to pick him up.”

“So me sneezing really was you thinkin’ bout me~ Honey, you made the right decision by teasing that villain.”

“I saw him shirtless too.”

“OH?! Ya’ll be video callin now?!” His fingertips touched the tip of his chests. “Baby girl, you datin or nah? Cause that’s sumthing I can’t see him doin unless you special or some shit.”

Remembering what he called you, you held on tighter to the steering wheel. Seeing the red light, your car slowly stopped and that gave you enough chance to cover your heated up face once again.

“H-he c-called me his guilty pleasure.”

“(L/N) (Y/N)! I SWEAR TO THE QUEENS IF SOMETHING HAPPENS TONIGHT, YOUR LEGS AIN’T GONNA BE WORKIN FOR A WEEK!” Followed by shrieking and squealing, Gei finally cleared his throat and exhaled. “Are you ready?!”

“Gei, nothing is going to happen okay?” You assured him. “Overhaul thinks I’m filthy so there’s no way my legs aren’t safe. Besides, we were just teasing each other. It’s been a while since we last saw each other so I kinda offered my unit to just catch up.”

“My ass.”

Your screen lit up once more and his contact popped up.

“He’s calling. I gotta go.”

“Live for the moment boo. Show him why The Levi Ackerman fell for you!”

Hanging up, you put Overhaul on the line and parked by a dimly lit area.

“A block from the base, turn right and you’ll see a traditional looking house. Meet me there.” He gave instructions to which you followed. Telling him you were on your way, he hung up as well.

Making sure that you weren’t being trailed or followed, you turned to the corner and sure enough saw the mentioned house. Did he walk all the way here or was this some kind of hideout they used. Seeing the gates open, you saw him exiting the building.

Black sweats, jacket, cap, and mask. He looked like a quirkless burglar leaving the house respectfully. Stopping in front of him, you turned the door lights off and watched as he entered the car.

“Good evening.” He greeted.

“We didn’t really think this through now, did we?” Giving him a shy smile, you drove back to the main highway. “Is there anything you wanna eat?”

“It’s fine. I don’t think it is safe to linger.”

“I got that covered. Don’t worry.”

“Will we use the main elevator?”

“I will.” You pointed your finger at him. “You, my dear Chisaki, will be using the stairs.”

“Take me back to the base.”

“I’m joking~” You turned the vehicle to the left and saw the convenience store. “We’ll use the secondary elevator. Now wait here while I buy some snacks, ‘kay?”

“Don’t boss me around.” He raised his brow once more and he watched as you closed the doors and headed inside the building. Just in time, his phone rang with Kurono on the screen. “This better be important.”

“Are you with her?” Kurono asked cautiously. Making sure he knew what to call him in the next minutes to come.

“I won’t take long, Kurono. Keep the others in check.”

“What exactly is your purpose for tonight’s visit, Kai?”

“As you can recall, I’ve taken an interest in her.” He picked up a small lint from his pants and overhauled it. “We’ll just catch up and probably munch on some snacks.”

“Munch on some snacks?” He repeated slowly. “What’s next? Watch a movie?”

“If there’s nothing you need to inform me, Kurono, I’ll be ending the call now.”

For a second, Kurono felt the need to give some advice regarding what women like when things got intimate. Yet, knowing he’d end up dead and alive made him think otherwise. Besides, if you had a thing for Overhaul, what could possibly go wrong with ‘munching on some snacks’ with a yakuza boss?

“No. That’s all.” His voice was uncertain but left no room for questions. “Should I pick you up?”

“No need.” Before his right hand man could say anything, he ended the call. Just in time for you to exit the store with a paper bag full of chips and drinks. Remembering that scenery a few days ago, he had to wonder, was Ackerwacker still in your apartment? Probably not knowing he was invited.

Now that you were buckled up, the drive back to the apartment was surprisingly filled with small talk. Mostly about the Fukuo Kai case and the small behind the scenes activity Overhaul saw fit to share regarding the Shie Hassaikai.

Parking the car in its spot, you handed the paper bag to your companion. Following your lead, the both of you made your way towards the basement elevator. Things were relatively peaceful till the doors stopped closing and slid open once more.

“Evenin, (l/n)-san.” One of your neighbors greeted as he entered with his girlfriend. The stench of alcohol surrounding them. Staring at the man holding the groceries, he eyed him down and shrugged.

“Good evening, Sawada-san.” You nod politely. This was not looking pretty.

Elevator music played as the elevators went up. The elevator was quite cramped with 4 people in it. Observing the germaphobe, you were glad that he didn’t show any signs of breakouts or even just utter disgust at the sight beginning to unfold beside you two.

As if things weren’t awkward enough, the girlfriend began to become all touchy with Sawada. Her hands began to squeeze his butt as he pulled him in closer. Your eyes widened when said girl became bold and peppered kisses all over your neighbor’s neck.

The sound of kissing began to over power the elevator music. Despite Overhaul clearing his throat, the two did not mind. With only 3 floors left to pass, you were more than ecstatic when the doors slid open and provided exit. Quickly grabbing his sleeve, you pulled him out and scurried to your door.

“That was revolting.” He finally spoke up.

“It’s almost 11.” You unlocked your door. “That was bound to happen. I’ve seen worse.”

“Why do people even think such contact is pleasing?” Opening the doors, you let him walk in first. Telling him to place the food on the counter, the yakuza boss did so. Deciding to be a good guest, Overhaul began to unpack the chips and drinks you purchased. “You bought too much food.”

“One can never be too prepared~” Your back was facing him. Turning the TV on, you set it on Betflix and sat on the sofa. Stretching your limbs from the drive. Pointing to the vacant seat two pillows away from you, Overhaul took a seat and made sure that there was not a speck of dust. “So what movie d’you wanna watch?”

- - - - -

a/n: it doesnt just end here my fellow overhoes xD see yall in the next chapter!

[jamielea81]

Just a Simple Lie

Chapter 3

Pairing: Chris Evans x Reader

Description: Having worked on small independent films for the better part of a decade, your friend tells you about an opening for a script supervisor with a large studio. Wanting to advance your career, you apply and get an interview. The only downside, they prefer to hire crew who are married. It’s just a simple lie, right?

Warnings: Cursing and Drinking

Word Count: About 3,000

A/N: This story is simply for fun. I know nothing about the personal lives of the two actors in this series and mean no harm. I am also totally guessing regarding the studio talk. Comments, reblogs, and likes are always welcome. Tag list is open, please send me an ask.

Internal thoughts are in italics.

Read chapter 2 here

Another week on set had passed as quickly as the last. There weren’t any late night meetings with either leading man, which was fine by you. Sure, you had worked with both actors throughout the week, but mostly on set, or a quick drop by in your office.

Since set life was pretty busy, your social life was suffering quite a bit. You hadn’t seen Joanna since the weekend before you started with the studio and she was pretty pissed.

“I work for fucking Sony, Y/N, and I make time for your ass,” she said flatly in the phone.

“Well, you like my ass. I mean, it’s pretty nice if I do say so myself.”

“You’re lucky you’re funny,” she added.

“Mhm.”

“Anyway…I’m picking you up in an hour.”

“Jooo,” you whined. “Sleeping in my bed sounds better. I just want to be lazy and watch a movie.”

“Too bad. I haven’t seen my best friend in weeks and we need to catch up. Besides, I have news for you.”

“Alright, you’ve piqued my interest. See you soon loser.”

Crawling out of bed and shimming out of your sweats, you dragged yourself into the bathroom to take a shower. Joanna’s idea of getting together usually involved alcohol, so you at least needed to look presentable.

Slipping on a cotton white dress with navy stripes and a pair of short brown boots, you called it good. The dress was comfortable and cute without much effort. You kept your makeup light, not only because you were feeling lazy, even after a long shower, but also because you were short on time. Running a quick hand through your hair a couple of times, your phone was buzzing with text messages.

Jo: I’m here!!!!

You let out a chuckle at her enthusiasm and tossed your phone in your bag.

 Joanna parked her SUV on the side of a street that was lined with boutique shops. It definitely wasn’t your normal area to drink or even shop, but who were you to argue? With work being as busy as it was and not to mention being the new girl, you had been pretty distant as of late.

“I just want to pop into this shop really quick, then we’ll grab some tea afterwards,” Joanna said.

Tea?

The two of you enter a cozy shop that you didn’t catch the name of as it was etched in the glass with curly letters. Your tired mind couldn’t decipher quite what it said. Inside is cozy whites, pinks, blues, and yellows. Your mind finally catches up when you see a row of baby strollers.

We’re in a baby store?

Joanna floats around the shop, squeezing stuffed animals, burp clothes, and blankets. Pretty much everything with texture. You follow behind her like a puppy, wondering why she needs to pick up something here. She eventually stops her searching at a table full of onesies. She picks up two, one in each hand. They are both white in color, but one has a giraffe on it while the other has a bunny.

“Okay. What gives?” you ask.

Still holding the onesies in both hands, she looks at you with wide eyes. “What?” she asks playfully.

Her eyes give her away and you can tell she’s messing with you. Raising your eyes brows in return, you cross your arms and pop a hip out.

“I probably shouldn’t say anything because it’s really early, but you’re my best friend and I need to tell someone.” She pauses for a moment and again your tired mind is just not following. “I’m pregnant!” she squeals. She drops the onesies on the table and shakes her hands in the air.

You stare at her contemplating what she just said. Pregnant. The word sounds funny in your mouth.

“Oh my god. You’re pregnant? You’re pregnant!”

She chuckles at your enthusiasm as you start to jump up and down. You pull her into a hug and then pull back slightly, not wanting to hurt her.

“You can’t break me,” she said.

“Shush,” you say, and pull her back in your arms. “Guess I’ll need to find new friends to drink with.”

Joanna smacks you on the butt. “Someone needs to drink with Ian.”

 Filming was on schedule which was surprising. Generally, a film of this size would be behind, especially early in the shooting schedule. Granted, this was the largest project you had been a part of. Credit was due to the awesome director. He was amazing at communication with everyone including you. He often asked for your notes between scenes and sought out both Monica’s and your opinions. Both Chris and Keanu were amazing, often getting the scene with one to two takes. There were only seven more shooting days before a week and a half break, then off to the cold of Vancouver.

 Your cellphone buzzed with a text, but that was nothing new between Monica, David, and the writing staff calling or texting all the time. Pushing away your laptop, you picked up the phone from your desk and leaned back in your chair.

Unknown number: Chocolate chip or peanut butter

“What?” you mumbled to yourself.

Y/N: Who is this?

Before you can even set your phone down, it buzzes again.

Unknow number: Just answer the question

“Who the fuck is this?” Apparently talking to yourself was your new thing.

Y/N: I need context here mysterious one.

Y/N: Ice cream, cookies, protein bars?

Unknown number: Cookies, obviously. This is serious.

You sighed and decided to play along with the dealer of sweet treats.

Y/N: Chocolate chip of course. But if frosted sugar cookies come into play, that wins.

Your phone rang not a second later with the unknown number.

“Hello?” you said.

“Sugar cookies?! Y/N, come on. No. Just no.”

“Who is this?”

“Chris,” he said.

“Chris...?”

“Seriously?” he questions. “Evans.”

“Oh fuck. Sorry. I’m sorry Chris.”

“You should be. Sugar cookies,” he scoffed. “Come on!”

You let out a giggle. “I like what I like.”

“So, chocolate chip?” he questions.

“Yeah. What are you up to anyway?”

I’m stealing a box from Craft Services,” he says it like it’s something he always does. Like it’s just normal to call you up and ask what you like.

“Okay,” you sigh. “Next question.”

“Shoot.”

“How’d you get my number?”

“I asked Monica. Figured you wouldn’t mind.”

This was something you had to get used to apparently. Chris Evans has your number and you now have his too. Not that you would call him.

You hummed in response.

“See you soon,” he said before disconnecting the call.

Chris is coming to your office. No big deal, he’s been here before, on your first day and one other time. This is fine. You can be normal.

You straightened up your small office. There wasn’t much to clean. Mr. Fern was thriving, although you’d have to find a babysitter for him when you were in Canada. You had no pictures or artwork on your walls, but you did have a framed photo of your friend group sitting on your desk, along with a jar of pens in various colors and styles. There were three sizes of notepads, one in a beautiful rose tone with thick aged looking paper. The other two were lined like the type you would use in school. You were a minimalist at work, what could you say?

Twenty minutes later there’s a knock at your door.

“It’s open,” you shout, just loud enough for the person to hear.

You knew Chris would be coming by, so you had time to mentally prepare, but he still makes you a little nervous. The man is attractive and he’s so personable. You’re nervous with Keanu too, but he’s so much more serious. When the two of you do chat, which isn’t a lot, it’s about national issues, who’s your favorite poet, have you tried this or that brand of green label coffee? Okay, that last one is pretty low key, but still.

 “I bring peace and good tidings, but most importantly cookies.” Huge grin on his face.

In his hand, wrapped in a napkin, are three chocolate chip cookies. His hand is outstretched for you to take the cookies, but you don’t. Eyes looking from his hand to his face and back again.

“This isn’t a box of cookies. I expected a box of cookies.” You shake your head for added effect. “And not even a frosted sugar cookie insight.”

“Sugar cookie,” he says with such disgust. “Y/N. I brought you chocolate. You should be thanking me!”

The smart ass in you, despite the newness with him, can’t help but come out.

“You can leave them there,” you say pointing to a free space on your desk. Eyes fixed on your laptop, not bothering him a glance.

He huffs out a laugh and plops himself down on the extra stationary chair next to your desk. He sets the cookies down, but picks one back up and takes a large bite out of it.

You swivel in your chair to face him and roll your eyes. “Aren’t those mine?”

“You complained.” He shrugs his shoulders taking a second bite.

Rolling your eyes, you turn back to your laptop.

“This is new,” he said.

Sparing him a glance, he’s picked up your framed five by seven group shot. It’s from last New Year’s Eve. Jemma had just moved into a new apartment, free of her roommate from hell as she liked to call her. You all brought booze and she invited a few guys she knew and some ladies from her work. It was a good time and you ended up crashing in her bathroom. It wasn’t the best night’s sleep you’ve had.

“Yeah, those are my best friends.” A smile appears on your face.

He smiles and nods his head, eyes scanning over the faces. “Who’s who?” He angles the photo so that you both can see.

“Well, this here, with her lips attached to my cheek, is my very best friend Joanna.” You let out a giggle and he grins. “Next to her is her husband Ian. The gorgeous blonde is Jemma. And that’s Travis.” You rush through the last one, remembering you told Chris your fiancé’s name was Travis. Maybe he forgot. Hopefully.

“Travis? As in your fiancé Travis?”

“Mhm.” Tight smile on your face.

Moving the picture closer to his face, he hums. “Good looking guy.”

“Yeah, he is,” you reply.

“Looks kind of young though.”

Really? He is, but why bring that up?

“Are you calling me old?” you scoff, fake agitation in your voice.

“What?! Of course not. You make a lovely couple. Really,” he pleads. A sincere smile on his face.

You quirk your mouth to the side and sputter out a laugh. “I’m just fucking with you.”

Quickly covering your mouth with your hand. Can you say fuck to him? It’s so unprofessional.

“Me and my mouth. Sorry,” you say, cringing slightly.

He erupts in a deep belly laugh, head thrown back, eyes closed.

“Oh, my fucking god. You can say fuck all you want around me,” he says through bouts of laughter.

You let out a breath and relax.

“That was hilarious,” he sighs, wiping tears from his eyes.

“Yeah. Real funny,” you reply. “But yes, Travis is a little bit younger than me.”

He holds up his hands defensively. “I promise I’m not calling you a cougar; he just seems young.”

Truthfully, Travis did seem younger than he was. He was the serious film student, but on weekends, he was the eternal frat boy. Even now, seven years later he’s pushing thirty, but you wouldn’t know it.

The next few days brought other unrequested sweet treats to your office. Chris no longer asked what you would like, instead he’d show up with something he thought you’d like, or rather what he liked. One day it was a cheese danish, then caramel corn, and finally a monster bar, which turned out to be a Rice Krispies Treat with extra marshmallows and M&Ms. You started to skip lunch knowing you’d be eating something very unhealthy. The two of you would keep the conversation light, generally about music or movies. You wondered if he was this friendly with other members of the crew.  

 Washing your hair six times had done nothing. Jemma had promised the new color product she picked up was just temporary, but clearly that had not been true. You had been Jemma’s guinea pig since the day you met her on set of one of the first movies you had worked on. She was a hair stylist and anytime she received a new product, she was trying it out on you. This time it was a semi-permanent purple hair dye. She had assured you it was more semi than permanent, but after washing it too many times, it had only slightly faded. Your only saving grace is the dye was only on the underside of your hair rather than your whole head as Jemma had wanted to do.

Walking into work was a little nerve wracking for you. In the industry, there is a plethora of personalities and styles, so purple hair isn’t out of the ordinary, but it was quite the change for you. You wore your hair the same way every day. You dressed modestly and comfortably. Sneakers were the norm. You saved skinny jeans and cute dresses for your days off. Stepping out in purple hair was saying something.

A few wolf whistles from David and a couple of guys who worked in set design, you made it to your office relatively unscathed.

Today’s scene would have you working side by side with Monica. Most days you were both on set, but usually not for long. The two of you had met in her office most of the day yesterday going over today’s big love scene between Chris’ character William and Maggie’s character Sophia. Chris was a professional and the few scenes that you had watched Maggie in were great. The two of you had no doubt they finish strong, no pun intended. Except you were wrong.

“Cut!” Hugh, the director called.

It was the fourth take and everyone was starting to realize it just wasn’t working. There were no problems with the lines and the actors were both following the stage directions, but something just wasn’t right. The chemistry was just off.

“Y/N.” Hugh called, motioning you over to him. “You know this script better than anyone. What’s missing?”

You let out a long sigh. “It’s the two of them together. Don’t get me wrong, they work well together, but I’m not getting romantic tones from the two of them right now.”

Chris was watching you. His brow furrowed; arms crossed. Maggie was getting her hair touched up. Passionate hair took a lot of work.

“Will you go talk to him please?” he asked.

You nodded, clutching your script, you walked to him. Maggie was now occupied with makeup and Monica was currently speaking to her.

Chris uncrossed his arms and quirked one side of his mouth up. “It’s not working is it?”

“M’fraid not,” you replied.

He nudged his head to the left and took a few steps away from the rest of the crew. “What do you suggest?”

“Well, frankly, you just don’t look like you love her. You barely look like you like her.”

He shrugged his shoulders and gestured with his hand for you to continue.

You licked your lips and moved in closer to him. Lifting up your script, you tapped on a section of the scene. “When it says William looks into Sophia’s eyes passionately, you need to look at her like she’s the one you’ve been waiting for your whole life. Like if you didn’t have her right now, in this moment, you wouldn’t be able to breathe. And when it says he grabs her, don’t grab her by her shoulders.” You looked up from the page to see Chris watching you. “What?” you questioned.

He shook his head and smiled. “Don’t grab her by her shoulders?”

You could feel heat in your cheeks. You looked back down at the script because you had to look away. Him and those fucking eyes. Are these lashes even real?

“Yeah, that comes off more as angry passion, but that’s not what their love story is about. How about you try it with one hand cupping her cheek and one hand on the back of her head? But like, um. But maybe cup her cheek first and brush your thumb against it as well. And with your other hand, slowly slide it to her neck before the kiss.”

He nods his head again, his eyes downcast, thinking it over. “Like this?” he asks.

Suddenly, his hand is on your cheek and he’s staring in your eyes, thumb lightly brushing below your eye. His other hand softly touches the crook of your neck and he ever so softly brushes it to the back of your neck as he starts to lean in. Goosebumps erupt down your arms and you thank the gods you’re wearing a sweatshirt at this very moment so he can’t see it.

“Is this good?” The deep timbers of his voice making you swoon.

You nod slowly, not wanting him to remove his hands at that moment. “Um,” you lick your lips again. “Uh, ye-yeah. That’s exactly what I mean.”

He removes his hand and gives you a gentle closed lipped smile. “I think I got it.” He starts to turn around but then stops and turns back to you again. He tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. “This is cute by the way.”

You give him a smirk and shake your head. “Go!” Crossing your arm, he salutes you with one hand.

Maybe you wouldn’t kill Jemma after all.

Tag list: @tanelle83 @pinknerdpanda @allaboutthebooz @estillion14 @panicfob @patzammit @heartislubbingdubbing @collinsstanharbour @twittytelly @thefandomzoneisdangerous @linki-locks11 @mywinterwolf @ab-baybay @rda1989 @chrisevansforever-blog @southerngracela @chrisevansfanfic @zsuzstyina @peach-acid @grtchnrs @hista-girl @trynnabemultifandom @symonlyjen5 @mrsshiddleston @tfandtws @xxloki81xx @heyyouwiththeassbutt @denisemarieangelina @evanlys19 @cheeseburgersstuff @linki-locks11

[detectivedreameater]

Feel It|| Agatha and Marley

TIMING: Last week PARTIES: @detective-keen and @detectivedreameater SUMMARY: Agatha comes to check up on Marley after her incident with Tommy the bear. Feelings are relented. CONTENT: Brief Medical talk (no blood mentions)

Marley prodded her face in the mirror, wincing. The jagged, angry lines that traced down her face, her cheekbones, her jaw, were raw and blue and painful. They stood out in jutting color unnatural to the eye, and looked almost like someone had simply smeared blue pen along her face. But every touch reminded her that it was not paint. Every blink, every breath. Every twitch of her lip. She wasn’t sure how many people had seen, but she’d left the hospital as soon as possible and gone to Erin’s. The doctor’s had come back to an empty bed and Marley had come home to an empty house. Save for JD. He followed her nearly everywhere now these days, hopping along behind her feet like a shadow, softly prodding her with his antlers when he wanted attention. She kept logs and salt logs around for him to chew on now, and the two had settled into a routine she’d never thought she’d get in her life. It was...kinda nice. And he didn’t stare at her face weird, because he didn’t understand what the lines on it meant. Perhaps that was for the better. She was just reaching into her freezer for more alcohol when someone knocked on the door. Was it Anita again? Or Erin checking up on her? Sighing heavily, she set the bottle down and went over to the door. “I said I’m fine, I don’t need you to constantly check up on--” but she was cut short when the door opened and revealed none other than Agatha. Certainly not either of the people she’d expected. “Keen,” she said, staring, “you’re-- here. Why are you here?”

 Agatha, having been told that Marley decided that she was too cool to stay at the hospital, had rushed her way to her colleague’s apartment, not only upset, but also worried. The more she learned to know Marley, the more she noticed how she hated getting help from others, but she didn’t think it could be to the point of refusing to see a bloody doctor. And so she ended up knocking on her door, arms crossed over her chest, yet juggling with a bag from the bakery, trying not to squish the little pies she had bought for her friend. Obviously, it was hard to look angry when you had pastries in your hand. “Why am I here?” She repeated, making it clear that she expected to be invited in. “Maybe because your dumb ass decided that she did not need to stay at the hospital despite,” she looked at her facial scars and then down at her feet. “Despite… this,” she replied. If she was being honest, she was truly impressed by the size of the scars on Marley’s face, but now was not the time for that. “You need a doctor, look at… how are you going to heal properly?” She’d probably have scars on her face for the rest of her days, but she did not have to make it worse like that.

 Agatha’s eyes looked at her face and then immediately away and it was then that Marley realized this was what was going to happen for a long time now. She would have frowned had it not hurt to do so. The worry wrought through Agatha’s face, in her voice, made her furrow her brow enough, though, to stretch the cuts and make her wince. You wouldn’t understand, she wanted to say, but how, then, did she explain leaving the hospital? “I’m fine, I know someone who’s good with stitching,” she muttered, stepping aside, then and turning away from the door. She didn’t invite Agatha in, but she didn’t tell her to leave, either. JD, behind the door, poke his nose out. “I’ll heal just fine,” she said, picking up her bottle of tequila again. “Want a drink?”

 “What?” Agatha’s brow furrowed, and she looked Marley in the eyes as if to say : don’t you dare. “You know you sound like someone who’s gonna ask a vet to stitch them up so that the cops never hear about it?” She sighed heavily, following behind. If you didn’t tell her to go away, you could bet that she wouldn’t. “I brought you pie. I didn’t know which kind you liked so.. Well, I brought you pie,” she repeated, not seeing Marley’s pet at first. With a small scream of surprise, she watched that… weird animal follow Marley behind. “I didn’t know you had a …” well she was not sure how to finish that sentence. Besides, she did not know a lot about Marley’s personal life, and her apartment would not help with that. The place looked as neutral as a plate of pasta, desperate for some sauce. “A drink?” putting the pies down on the kitchen table, she glanced over at Marley and bit her lip briefly. This was not going to end well. Needless to mention that it was a bit early for this too, but she doubted that Marley had plans to leave her place today. “One drink, but you’ll have to tell me what happened,” she warned.

 At the squeak, Marley looked up-- then down, to see JD hopping after her. “Oh, yeah, that’s Jack Daniels. He’s my uh--” huh, how to explain this one to a normie? “Pet hare. He’s got a strange mutation.” Just like me, she thought sourly. “He won’t bite,” a beat, “probably.” Her nose crinkled and pain erupted in her face again, making her pause her movements while she waited for the burning to pass. “A vet? No, she--” Wait, she couldn’t let Agatha know she knew Erin. It would be too obvious, then, how Erin had gotten rid of the evidence on her. “She’s medically trained. Look, I just-- I don’t do hospitals.” Was that a good enough explanation? She set down a glass in front of Agatha and filled it halfway with tequila. Then poured a full glass for herself. “What? Don’t you read the news, Keen? I had a drink with a bear, but he didn’t like whiskey,” she said in a monotone she hadn’t used in a while. Slid the glass to her. “Drink up.” Eyed the pies. “You didn’t have to bring me anything.”

 “Jack Daniels?” Agatha tried to look at her with a look of judgement, but ended up laughing instead. “That’s… well, let’s just hope the medical examiner never sees him. She’ll want to cut him open,” wrinkling her nose, Agatha took note of what Marley said and told herself that she’d try to keep her fingers away from the hare. “Ugh,” she groaned. Apparently, this was not going to convince Marley to see an actual doctor. “I do hope so,” and if she wondered why the other woman had an issue with hospitals, she knew better than to ask. Last time she tried to ask Marley questions, she ended up with her own feelings hurt. “I did read the news,” which is why she had rushed to the hospital to find out that her friend was gone not even 24h after being admitted in. “But since you were… there, I figured you would tell me more as to how the hell a bear got into a bar.” A cop and a bear walk into a bar. Sounded like a damn joke, except it was closer to a nightmare. “I did not have to, but I wanted to. Suck it,” she declared, scanning the kitchen with her eyes to find a knife. Oh well, she had her swiss army knife. Getting it from her jacket, she cut herself a slice of cherry pie and left the knife on the table for Marley to get some food. “I skipped breakfast to see you at the hospital, alright?” This was a huge deal. And with those words, she had a big sip of tequila. 

 “Yeah, like the whiskey. I call him JD for short, or Jack if I’m mad at him,” Marley said nonchalantly. She chose to not look into the fact that she’d name her pet after an alcohol, but it was either that or Bugs Bunny. “And Kadaver isn’t coming anywhere near me, or my apartment, or JD. Ever.” She jabbed the knife into the pie as if to punctuate her statement and cut out a little piece for herself. At least Agatha wasn’t pushing the hospital thing. Marley could appreciate that about her, she usually didn’t push. Except for in their last online conversation, but she wasn’t about to bring that up, nor was she about to give Agatha an opening to. “I don’t know how it got in. Investigators said the back door was left open and it probably followed the scent of food inside. You know how bears are.” She made a little claw like motion with her hand. Was that in poor taste? Her face stung at the thought. “You skipped breakfast? Jesus, Keen…” she muttered, trying to keep the weird feeling bubbling in her throat from finding its way into her voice. “It wasn’t like I was gonna die. No need to panic. I’m fine, see?” Motioned to herself as she poked at the slice of pie she’d cut out, wondering why people liked this stuff so much. It was too sweet for her usually. “Well, you know...aside from the obvious.” 

 Agatha did not really know what to say. She didn’t really see the link between a big rabbit and liquor, but there must have been a story behind this for sure.  “Kadav… Not a fan of her?” Agatha tried to get along with everyone, and while Regan was intimidating, she did not have any animosity for her. She couldn’t, as she had to rely on her expertise so often. “Or is it just a pun on her job?” Could be a possibility although from the way she had stabbed the pie, she doubted that. Sucking her fingers clean -which was truly useless, as she was not even done eating her slice-, she listened to Marley speak of her encounter with the bear. “I mean, that makes sense,” kind of. “If bears start wandering into the city center, we’re in trouble,” she commented, finishing her slice of pie and getting another. “Look,” she frowned, a piece of apple pie in front of her, “I was worried, and I figured that pie for breakfast wouldn’t be so awful. Don’t… flatter yourself,” she narrowed her eyes, daring her to say a thing about this. Now she was not nearly as intimidating as the other woman, and the scars would only accentuate that. Not that she was jealous. “Right, bears aren’t that much of a big deal,” she mockingly brushed it off with her hand. “Call me when you get attacked by…” She tried to think of something worse, and when she couldn’t she decided to go for something stupid, “I don’t know, a moose, or something real.” Shaking her head, she then looked at Marley, her expression softer. “Are you really okay?” She hoped this wouldn’t go like that conversation they had about Jane, and Marley’s feelings. One could hope that the tequila would help. 

 “It’s both,” Marley said simply, picking up a cherry from inside the pie and plopping it in her mouth. Yeah, cherries just weren’t her thing. She didn’t need to justify her distaste for Kavanagh to Keen, mostly because the reasons were ones Agatha wouldn't understand. Telling her she didn’t like it when Kavanagh screamed would just sound too strange. She went to rest her chin in her palm before remembering, and leaning her whole weight against the counter top, arms folded. Watching the other woman, wondering what her real motive for being here was. Her and Agatha were work colleagues, that was all. It wasn’t like Agatha really cared about her, but when she asked if she was really okay, Marley flustered a moment. Of course she was okay, right? She wasn’t dead, that’s what mattered. But it didn’t feel right to say. She could remember the worry on Erin’s face as she’d cleaned up her blood, and the relief on Anita’s when she’d laid eyes on her and known that she was alive and alright. She shifted back to a standing position and looked away, pretending to interest herself with JD on the ground next to her feet. “Totally fine,” she mumbled, but she wasn’t even sure she’d convinced herself, let alone another detective.

 Agatha gave Marley a silent oh. Her jaw clenched as she watched her colleague approach her hand from her cheek. That must have hurt, she thought to herself. The tequila wasn't too bad, although she had some bad memories of evenings and  mornings involving it. Although while the liquor could make Marley talkative, it could also make Agatha's focus shift to something else, when what she cared about now was the woman's wellbeing. Still, it seemed that much like the other day, Marley was not about to discuss her feelings, as if she was scared of those. "Totally fine," she scoffed. What a load of bullshit. "Jane disappears for days, it's fine. You get attacked by an animal who could have killed you," she paused to catch her breath, " it's fine. You are obviously wounded, it's FINE. F.I.N.E." She wished the word would have been longer, because it would have been more impactful, but at least her point was made. "This. Is bullshit. I'm not going to sit here to hear bullshit. Respect me."

 Agatha’s voice rose in both volume and pitch and Marley blinked in surprise. She looked up at her with wide eyes, silent for a moment. In all their years working together, she’d never heard her yell. Marley turned her face away, trying not to frown-- she’d never been so aware of how many muscles moved in the face until now and she hated it. She was going to make sure Tommy suffered, long and good for this. And she was going to make sure he knew she was the one that did it to him. And maybe she’d even get to look Roy in the face and tell him it was her. What a delight that would be. But none of that mattered right now. And neither did her feelings about what had happened. About what would happen, even after the gashes healed. “What else am I supposed to be?” she said quietly, hands folded across her chest. “What good is being upset going to do?” 

 Well at least Agatha had managed to get some sort of reaction from her which was already a lot more than she might have expected. She understood wanting to appear as stone cold, and she bore a blank face whenever she heard anyone talking shit about her and her father, but she couldn't understand that Marley did not allow herself to be not even vulnerable, but at least, a little bit more aware of her own feelings. Because you could bet that Agatha had cried at home at the end of the day for her first few weeks at WCPD. No one knew, but she did cry. "Relieved, angry, scared, thankful," it wasn't about admitting to being sad, but rather admitting to having feelings. "What good is keeping it all in here," she pointed at Marley's chest, "going to do?" Agatha looked down at her hands and fell silent. It seemed like they were heading the same way as they did online. "Nevermind." Standing up, she went 

to the window to look outside. Right now, she did not want her to see that she was herself upset.

 Marley squinted a little-- lamenting the pain it caused-- as Agatha pointed at her chest. Then Agatha was walking away from her, over to the window that overlooked the street outside and Marley scrunched her face harder, this time through the pain, and set her glass down. “Fine, you wanna know how I am? I’m pissed,” she snapped. “I’m angry and tired and in pain and I’m so mad at Jane I can’t even talk to her and she’s supposed to be my partner and all I wanted-- all I wanted was one day off. Just one where nothing shitty happened. Cause you know what? I had a good weekend. I really did. Things were going great. But you know what life does? It reminds you that you don’t deserve good things, and it does it real damn well.” She then scooped up her drink and downed the rest of it, slamming the glass down. “But you know what doesn’t help? Crying about it. In fact, that’ll probably make it worse because there’s giant gashes on my face now, thanks to a fucking bear!” In fact, just talking hurt. She groaned and grabbed the towel she’d been using to ice the wound with, pressing it against her face as she slid to sit on the floor in her kitchen. “I’m gonna fucking kill that bear if I ever see him again…” she muttered.

 Finally, Agatha told herself as Marley began a monologue so gut wrenching it could have made her regret she pushed her into saying all these things. But she didn't regret. She could take her pain, her anger, and if Marley let her, she would help her with those. The pain, she couldn't help with, but anger she could manage. "Is it anger, or despair?" She turned to face her. It seemed like despair to her. Marley was tired, she said it herself. She expected something else, she said it herself. "Not everything has to help. Some things are useless and we still do them, because that's what people do," stupid things, like matching your socks, or saying hello to the waitress, or crying. Agatha walked around the kitchen table, squatting down in front of her friend. Or maybe Marley didn't consider her like one, but she would act like one anyway. "You're gonna need a bigger gun  If you want, we can go shopping for proper rifles, what do you think?" She said it with the calmest expression on her face, and her hand extended toward Marley, palm up. "Well?"

 Marley shuddered and scrunched her face at the word ‘despair’. She wasn’t going to call what happened to her a tragedy, she was alive, wasn’t she? She had all four of her functioning limbs and soon enough her eye would be fine, too. So what really was the loss? Cosmetic damage? Her dignity? No. Some part of her knew it was something deeper. Something buried inside. Marley looked up when Agatha came to bend down in front of her, holding out her hand. She wanted to push it away, she didn’t need pity or help or distractions. She needed-- “A bigger gun?” She balked for a moment, mouth slightly agape. That wasn’t what she’d expected Agatha to say. She took a moment to gather herself, pushing off the floor to sit up a little straighter. “You really wanna go gun shopping with me?” She eyed Agathat’s hand warily for a moment-- was this some sort of trick? Was Agatha going to try and stop her from going after Tommy? Not that she even knew the bear was actually a bugbear. Even if she did want to help, Marley wasn’t sure she was ready to take her hand yet. “Right now?”

 Truth was, Agatha had originally considered giving Marley a hug, but the thought of a hunting rifle had crossed her mind then, and all things considered, it made more sense. Marley probably thought that hugging was useless, and while Agatha agreed to a certain extent, she also knew that those were great when you were feeling down. “Well it’s either this, or a hug, from yours truly,” she scoffed, then looked puzzled for a moment. “I mean, we can do both,” she did look like she needed a hug. Obviously, Agatha wondered why Marley was the way she was (not the bear attack, this much she did not question), wondered what her upbringing must have been like, but she knew better than to ask. Now was not the time to snoop around, as much as she wanted to understand. “But yes, I really want to go gun shopping with you,” it was not something she felt uncomfortable doing. With her parents both working in law enforcement, she was not too skittish about firearms, although this conversation would have probably been different around someone with no training. “Well, I don’t know, I’m asking you. I understand if you would prefer to wait,” her expression warmed up a little, the traces of a smile appearing on her features.

 “I don’t really…” Marley started out, eyes wandering from Agatha’s face down to her hand again, “...do hugs.” In fact, Marley could probably count the amount of times she’d been hugged on one hand. At least, that she could remember. Sex didn’t count, either. That was something different, even if she was held in someone’s arms. Hugs were...complicated. They were soft and intimate and affectionate and Marley wasn’t any of those things. And for the longest time-- and still even now, even after what she’d said to Anita-- she didn’t believe she deserved any of those things. Marley reached out finally, though, and took Agatha’s hand, using it to help herself stand. She discarded the bloodied rag and tried to fold the blue into it so Agatha wouldn’t see too much. She wondered why she hadn’t said anything about it yet. “Maybe later,” she said quietly, “not really feeling up to being out in public yet.” It didn’t exactly scare her, the thought of going outside right now, but she knew something was holding her back. She could tell herself it was because she didn’t want to see the looks on people’s faces when they saw, but even she knew that wasn’t entirely true. She fiddled with the rag a moment. “But yeah--” she added on, “--we can go gun shopping together.”

 “I figured,” she breathed out with amusement, and couldn’t repress a smile. “Not much of a hugger myself, but…” She let herself trail off as she felt like she could begin to get talkative as to why she didn’t like hugs much either. She came here for Marley, not to discuss her own issues. Agatha was relieved as Marley took her hand, and looked away at the sight of what seemed to be blue blood. If she had never heard of a disease that could cause this, she knew that blue blood was a thing, although she didn’t think it existed aside from horseshoe crabs. God those creatures looked awful. Either way, she didn’t want to make her uncomfortable with health questions. “Alright, sure,” it was to be expected. With what had just happened to her… Agatha herself would have wanted to stay in her apartment, and avoid people, or the stares, at least. “Raincheck on that then,” she glanced over at the kitchen table. Marley had barely touched her pie. Probably wasn’t feeling too hungry. “Alright, what do you want to do then?” Might as well do something she liked and felt like doing. 

 “What?” Marley asked, a little lost. “What do you mean?” Was Keen offering to do something with her? To stay over? “You-- you know you don’t have to stay. You came to check up, you saw that I’m doing fi--” stopped mid word, cleared her throat, “--that I’m managing. You don’t have to stay. I’m sure you’ve got much more important things than to stick around and watch me mope all day.” Because surely she did. It wasn’t like they were close or even friends. That word still made her chest burn, even if it was the only word she had to explain what Erin was to her. Jane was easy, she was her partner. Anita was easy, she was her, well-- her girlfriend, now, she supposed. But others were hard. She wasn’t friendly, she didn’t get attached to people, she didn’t go out of her way to be nice to people. She’d never really been that way. There had been little point in making connections when all she did was get passed around from home to home. Nothing ever lasted. “You can go home if you want. Don’t stay just for me.”

 I’m doing fi- Agatha’s eyebrows raised, but it seemed like Marley was done being full of shit. Good. This was not what she came here for, but she was really proud of her, and you could read it on her face. Her eyes twinkled with malice, and she couldn’t help but smile. “I did not say anything about staying here all day,” she replied, still beaming. It was her day off, and she had planned other things for today, but once she heard about what had happened, she kind of forgot about anything she had in mind. It would probably come back to her in a few, but right now, she focused on Marley instead. “If I wanted to be home, I wouldn’t be here,” she observed, picking up the pies to put them in the refrigerator. Her eyebrows raised as she saw how empty the thing was. Well that was just sad. Agatha’s stomach was sad. Good thing she had gotten her something to eat. “Look, if you want me to leave, I’ll leave. But I really don’t mind sticking around,” she glanced at the room and wrinkled her nose. “What would you like to do?”

 Marley ruffled her nose slightly, pain shooting through it. She turned and watched Agatha scoop up the pies and put them in the little, pathetic excuse she had for a fridge. Luckily, she didn’t point out the fact that it was a drink fridge or that it was empty. She glanced away when Agatha looked up at her, pretending she hadn’t been watching. JD circled her feet a few times and she bent down to pick him up stiffly, remembering the bruises that still lined her chest and leg when she did. Even if Agatha’s words didn’t entirely make sense to Marley, she tried not to let it get to her. She was tired and in pain and all she wanted to do was sink into her couch with a bottle of tequila and pretend none of the past week had happened. Well...not the entire week. Some good things had happened. Maybe this could be another one of those. She glanced over at Agatha and let out a breath. “Wanna watch a movie?” she asked. “I rented a bunch of random ones that sounded cool.” They headed over to the couch, and as Marley sank down, she felt something itching inside of her. After a long, quiet moment, she said, “Hey, Agatha?” and when her companion looked over, she muttered quietly, almost missable, “Thanks,” before clicking play.

[hollyhomburg]

Sugary Sweet

(Polyamory au) ( Bunny Hybrid! Reader x Tiger Hybrid! Taehyung x Cat Hybrid! Yoongi x Owner! Namjoon)

SUMMARY: Namjoon has a perfect life once he moves out of the city to a cabin alongside his two rescue hybrids, Yoongi and Taehyung. But then one night in the middle of the rainstorm they find you, a bunny hybrid, hiding in their chicken coop.  

WARNINGS: Anxiety attacks, Anxious! Namjoon, mentions of hybrid abandonment, hybrid mistreatment, Half of this is Domestic fluff, possessive behavior. 

W/C: 5,000 words of backstory you don't need + 5,000 words of pure fluff

A/N: ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️ THIS IS A VERRY VERRY HAPPY BIRTHDAY PRESENT TO MY MAIN HUMAN @peeachypop ❤️WHO I KNOW IS A SLUT FOR TIGER HYBRID TAEHYUNG AND CAT YOONGI, AND AN INTELECTUAL BOYFRIEND NAMS.❤️❤️❤️ I HOPE YOUR NEXT YEAR IS FILLED WITH AS MUCH FLUFF AS THIS ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

- Namjoon was not what you call a people person, not most days anyway. 

- Most of the time he preferred to sit at his desk in his little box of an apartment building and write away at his laptop, content only to leave if inspiration was failing him or if his need for caffeine overtook his anxiety. 

- Public places made him anxious, the clawing dread in his chest something he couldn’t shove down and live through, of course Namjoon was admittedly living in the middle of one of the largest metropolitan cities in the world. But the feeling didn’t go away and leave him with age like it should have when he’d aged from being a shy school child into being a full-fledged adult with an anxiety disorder. 

- Instead mid twenties Namjoon sat down at his desk for almost a whole year and wrote a book. Of course it was successful, the fantasy and philosophical tidbits combined to an adventure story that captivated audiences. 

- His publishers tried to get him to go for photo ops and for interviews no matter how much they begged Namjoon even as his novel climbed on the bestseller list. He didn’t want to look like a bumbling idiot in front of cameras, all those eyes on him, just the thought of it made him feel like he was going to be sick.

- So Namjoon’s daily routine was this, he woke up at a time most people would consider lunch or even dinner, and wrote for a few hours. Then he would go  out for coffee at around 6 pm or so when everything wasn’t so crowded in his favorite coffee shop (that his best and only friend Jin owned, they’d only became friends with because back when Namjoon’s anxiety wasn’t so bad Namjoon used to write late night in Seokjin’s 24/hour coffee shop.)

- It’s an idea for his next book that makes him adopt a hybrid, because he’d never had one and Namjoon is always thorough in his research, and if he’s going to write about a hybrid character then he needs to know what it’s like to live with one. 

- The beginning of the process is surprisingly easy, but the next step, actually choosing one is the hardest. Namjoon looks in the room of bounding puppies and foxes and bears that are all playing and biting each other’s ears and Namjoon isn't comforted just overwhelmed. 

- Not able to choose Namjoon turns and walks down the hall, thinking that maybe this was a mistake, maybe he should just make the character in his book a human, maybe it was bad of him too want to get a hybrid for selfish reasons when in reality they where so close to people. 

- “Hey watch where you’re going!” a low grumpy voice says the second before Namjoon trips over a pair of stretched out legs. Namjoonfalls flat on his face barely managing to catch himself against the linoleum. He doesn’t even know how he manages to scratch his palms so bad. They make him hiss in pain as he picks himself up.

- “What the fuck! can’t you see anything with those glasses?” the person growls, dressed in all black baggy clothes, a round face with a hood pulled up over his head and a pair of headphones. “Apparently not” Namjoon says wiping his scraped hands on his jeans. One of the attendants comes crashing through the door. “I’m sorry mister! Did he hurt you at all?” Namjoon stutters out a no before they turn to small man that Namjoon tripped over.

- Namjoon is just about to apologize to him again before the attendant hisses almost lower than Namjoon can hear, “you where supposed to be in your pen Yoongi, making sure you didn’t bother the patrons. Now apologize.” Namjoon spies the electric prod through the attendants waste, the way his hand hovers on it and the way Yoongi shrinks into the back, no not the man- the hybrid, whose hands are covered by the large sweatshirt that sticks over his hands, and the black hood that covers lumps which must be ears of some sort.

- “I’m sorry” Yoongi says, his face downward. And Namjoon feels the protective instinct in him swell up. Thoughtlessly he reaches up and pushes back Yoongi’s hood, Yoongi flinches and Namjoon becomes even more displeased as he spies the small black cat ears that are poking out of the hybrids rumpled curly hair.

- “Actually, I was just talking to Yoongi about the possibility of adopting him when I tripped, we where just on our way to the office.” Yoongi’s eyes are wide as dinner plates alongside the attendants, his lips parted, his puffy tail swishing. No matter how hard they try to convince Namjoon to adopt “a more suitable companion.” 

- Namjoon won’t budge. Yoongi is going to be his hybrid. 

- Namjoon assures the facilities manager again and again that he knows the return policy and that this hybrid is the one he wants. The middle-aged woman goes on and on about how Yoongi is the most disobedient and disrespectful hybrid in the whole facility. But her whole speech about how horrible the hybrid next to him is just makes him want to adopt the other more. 

- Yoongi keeps his eyes downcast for the entirety of the meeting, With every negative word Yoongi shrinks a little bit more, his shoulders crumpling in on himself, it’s only when the woman leaves that he talks, “are you sure you still want me?”

- “You want to leave here right?” Namjoon answers. Yoongi sends a tentative glace in the direction of the corner of the room, and Namjoon spies a camera, it’s red eye blinking, recording their conversation . “Please.” Yoongi begs, low and almost a whisper. His eyes down at the floor. Namjoon’s hand comes up to rub against his ears and Yoongi flinches again.

- A 400,000 won adoption fee later and Yoongi is heading out of the adoption facility side by side with Namjoon. His belongings in a black backpack on his back. “It’s not much,” Namjoon says, when he flicks on the light to his pre-war apartment, the brick walls pained over with white and the old fashion fridge and steal sink filled with dishes that Namjoon meant to do this morning before leaving “But I hope it’s enough.”

- He probably should have cleaned up a little bit and now he finds himself shy over how Dingee his apartment looks with cobwebs in the arched ceilings, the piles of his rough draft on the small circular table by the window where Namjoon eats, the battered curtains drawn up close against the windows and the thread bear blue velvet couch that Namjoon falls asleep on editing 9 times out of ten. 

- Yoongi doesn’t make a sound one way or another, but Namjoon busies himself with dishes when he notices Yoongi’s eyes are filling with tears and prattles to Yoongi about his collection of take-out menus and that Yoongi can choose tonight. Yoongi’s not upset about the state of the apartment though- he’s so so happy, because this place is his, he’d never had his own space before.  

- Over the first few weeks of owning Yoongi, Namjoon starts to realize, Namjoon might not be a people person because he’s hybrid person. 

- Yoongi could be biting in his comments and harsh with his undertones but at the end of the day, he never curled up on Namjoon’s pull out couch to sleep, instead preferring to curl up around Namjoon’s thighs in Namjoon’s bed.

- Even if he pretended that he didn’t want cuddles when Namjoon would enter his room around bedtime and find the small hybrid curled up in the very middle of his bed watching some TV show on the TV propped up on his dresser. Even if the hybrid hissed at Namjoon when he initially tried to pet his ears, it was always around the third of 4th pass when Yoongi finally relaxed against Namjoon, the slow purring filling his bedroom. 

- Yoongi might bitrate and badger Namjoon for more cream in the fridge or laugh openly whenever Namjoon trips, but he always always always purrs when Namjoon shows him any sort of affection. The low rumbling making Namjoon smirk, and Yoongi blush as his eyes blink closed lazily. 

- After the first few weeks, once Yoongi gets comfortable Namjoon is sure that Yoongi is the most affectionate hybrid that he’s ever met. 

- Namjoon doesn’t realize how much the companionship is doing for his mental health, his anxiety, until they go out to the store one-day together. Usually he would never think about going to the store during the day, but Yoongi literally drags him away from the first draft of his novel and makes Namjoon go. 

- “I swear to god Joon if you live off of microwave meals forever you’re going to get an ulcer and die” he hisses when Namjoon tries to drag it out so that E-mart will be a little bit less crowded from people just getting off work. But Namjoon just smiles’, knowing the bickering is how Yoongi shows he cares. 

- They go to the store, and with Yoongi by his side Namjoon doesn’t get anxious at all. It’s a miracle really, and when Namjoon realizes it late one night when they’re walking through the crowded streets of Gangnam, feeling as at ease as he would in his own home. He would have gotten a hybrid much much sooner if he knew it would have had such a positive effect on his life, and as far as hybrids go…Namjoon can tell that Yoongi is special. 

- But then one day, Yoongi looses him in the crowd, there are too many faces, too many people moving at a brisk pace through the lit up streets of Myeongdong, food stalls advertise food with shouts that crowd out his mind, and then someone recognizes him from the cover on the back of his book and shouts his name and even more people turn and Namjoon can’t breath as someone takes out their phone and shoves a camera in his face the flash making white spots dance along with the black in his vision. 

- Yoongi’s hand is like a vice around his as he pulls Namjoon away towards the subway station. Namjoon curls into Yoongi’s shoulder and doesn’t look at a single person as he shakes through the end of the panic attack on the subway ride home. Listening only to Yoongi’s voice as it says low in his ear “we’re gonna be okay Namjoon- you’re okay, no ones looking at you, hell I won’t look at you if you don’t want me too.” 

- It takes a few weeks, and more than a few days with Yoongi curled up on the pull out couch and Namjoon’s bed, Namjoon’s head buried in Yoongi’s shoulder. Before Namjoon can even think about setting foot outside again. 

- And then the eventual question from Yoongi “if Seoul makes you so anxious- why don’t you just move?” 

- “Don’t you like the city?” Namjoon asks, by lew of an answer. Really Namjoon could move, he only meets with his publishers every few months and his editor, Jimin communicates with him mostly through email or Skype call. Namjoon could move to the countryside and out of Seoul. but Namjoon thought Yoongi had grown up in the city like himself, and that he would want to stay, “Not if it make you like this Joon.” Yoongi admits, his teeth gnawing on his lower lip as the hybrid looks up at him from beneath his lashes, concerned. 

- Namjoon searches for a house in the greater Seoul area and comes across a few good options, a modern loft in a residential neighborhood, but that doesn't have a yard, or a condo- which is right next to a park near a train station and this gorgeous little turn of the century cabin, with two stories and two bedrooms. His second novel peaks at number 2 on the best sellers list. “We need to get a car before we buy a house out there.” Namjoon realizes a few weeks after that- because as much as pictures are lovely he knows Yoongi needs to see the house in person. 

- They find a gently used car for sale on Facebook and Namjoon is just walking to pick It up in the theater district early one evening when he spies something.

- The red circus tent is being dismantled, half of the red and white spiral fabric hangs limp or gently flapping in the brisk wind. A lone workman operates a lift putting cages into the back of the truck.

- Namjoon walks by it slowly, eyeing the grubby body in the bottom of that crate. The sound of chains rattling as the hybrid inside pulls against the chains snags his attention.  The workman notices Namjoon looking and Namjoon shrinks, abashed to be caught staring. “Hey cut that out!” the man growls hitting a wrench against the side of the cage. The hybrid inside flinches back for a moment and stills before he starts pulling again. 

- Namjoon make eye contact with the pair of the most beautiful golden eyes that he’s ever seen; the boy is dirty, the striped tail that curls around his body protectively (for some form of comfort or warmth) is grubby brown when it should be orange. He’s probably a few years younger than Namjoon is. Namjoon spies curved orange ears sticking out the top of his head and reverses direction. 

- “Where are these hybrids going to go?“ he asks the workman, who looks down at him before he finishes loading the crate onto the truck and pulls away. Namjoon waits as he gets out of the lift and hops down.

- “The circus is shut down, this ones probably going to be euthanized, he’s the only rare-breed that couldn’t be auctioned off, while the domestic breeds will be sent to adoption agencies.”

- Namjoon peers into the container, and sees a gaggle of dog and cat hybrids that are huddled, each of their hands and feet bound, watching Namjoon with scared and hungry eyes. The tiger hybrid in the cage’s expression is desolate, he knows where he’s headed, but still his hands pull against the chains that fasten him to the bottom of the cage, unable to give up quite yet. 

- The money for the car in his pocket feels so heavy like it might bring Namjoon to the floor or tear a hole through his pocket. Namjoon makes a split second decision, fuck getting a car, “I’ll give you 5 million won right now if you give him to me.” 

- The delivery man looked at the wad of cash in Namjoon’s hands like he might not take it. “You know what you’re offering to do is extremely illegal.” Namjoon’s jaw was tense, he knows the laws about illegal adoptions, but he stares the workman down. The man sighs and takes the envelope, after a moment, glancing at the money inside, before he takes out his keys. Namjoon heaved a sigh of relief. 

- The hybrid had heard the entire conversation but still wasn’t saying anything, he skitters back against the wall when the man unlocks the front door of the cage, taking care to unlock the shackles around his ankles before stepping back.  

- Those golden eyes where stuck open blinking wildly. The boy shivering, his shoulders tense and his curved ears pinned back to his head as he curled his hands around the bars of the cage and hopped out of back of the truck. Namjoon saw a full body shiver run through him as his bare feet hit the floor. 

- The man undid the shackles around his wrists. The hybrid hissing and biting his lip when they rip away from the red skin, broken in the place around the ball of his wrist. 

- The hybrid can barely walk, let alone think about trying to escape as he goes from one captor to another. The man doesn’t look threatening but Taehyung knows you can never be sure.  His muscles are too tired to fight anymore to resist going with the man who looks well dressed, in a thick wool coat and a pair of wire-rimmed glasses. 

- Namjoon shocks Taehyung by pulling off that coat and tossing it over Taehyung’s bare shoulders, making him shrink further into himself before he clutches the jacket around his chest and lets Namjoon hook an arm underneath one of his as he sways at the rush of blood to his head, narrowly keeping him from falling over. “It’s okay. I’ve got you” Namjoon says as he starts to lead Taehyung back down the street in the direction of his apartment. 

- “I don’t like him, he take up so much room.” Yoongi whines after the third day, Taehyung is stretched out on Namjoon and Yoongi’s couch on his stomach his bushy tail waving lazily as he dozes, his fun now clean and a light orange color, his golden eyes closed to the world. 

- Taehyung even has stripes, slightly darker patches his skin that tan a little darker and quicker than the rest of him, he’s spent the last few days looking out the “portal” (that Yoongi continually corrected him where called “windows”), so the small ones on his face are the most noticeable. 

- When Namjoon had taken him home and taken a look at his injured wrists, he’d also gotten a look at the back of his thighs and back, scared from countless whippings that where fresh in a few places. It would be a few more days until he could lie on his back comfortably, and Namjoon had already bought the hybrid a can of scarring cream. (He even went to the store to buy it by himself, Yoongi was insanely proud. Even if the shock of Namjoon bringing home another hybrid instead of the car he was supposed to buy prevented him from saying it just yet.) 

- “He doesn’t have anywhere else to go Yoon, and I won’t put him out on the street.” Namjoon hushes from his desk in his bedroom. Aware that Taehyung can probably hear him. 

- Despite his upbringing, the tiger hybrid is anything but cold, though it did take a few days for his sunny personality to shine through the years of trained obedience reinforced by abuse. He’d broken a plate on his 5th night, and Namjoon had blanched when Taehyung had shrunk and pleaded, “please don’t beat me” in a hushed voice. 

- Namjoon had been overcome with guilt and horror at those 4 soft words.  And the hybrid had shook through his first hug ever as Namjoon had wrapped in him in his arms and tucked his orange head against his shoulder. Yoongi too- had folded himself against the hybrids back, and Taehyung had watched astounded as Yoongi scent marked him nuzzling into his shoulder and letting out a reassuring purr that made Namjoon melt.  

- Namjoon sat him down and tried to assure the hybrid that he wasn’t going to be treated that way here. Or ever again if Namjoon had anything to say about it.  After that incident, Yoongi lets Taehyung cuddle him whenever he wants- which is most of the time. 

- After the initial shyness melted away came the unassuming wonder at everything in the world, Taehyung had only ever seen the world outside of a metal cell or a large stage, and now he found the things that Yoongi and Namjoon overlooked exceeding endearing and excited. Taehyung tripped over his words, telling Namjoon about everything and everything that he had spied about the window out his apartment. 

- “You mean we have a mailman!? The same man who delivers mail to all of Seoul stops by our apartment building! Someone should give him a present for doing so much work!” Taehyung is so excited to learn about the most mundane of things that Namjoon can’t burst his bubble, even if Yoongi tries, his nonplused and realist side making an appearance no matter how Namjoon tries to discourage him from bursting the adorable bubble that is Kim Taehyung. 

- Taehyung Splashes in the water of Namjoon’s small bathtub with his large hands making Yoongi hiss when he tries to force the other hybrid to take a bath with him. Whining cutely when Namjoon clipped his nails (Namjoon was lucky that Taehyung didn’t actually have claws- it was just that the people at the circus had made him grow his nails out too look like them) and that endlessly boxy smile that lit up the entire apartment, even making Yoongi blush.

- Taehyung was so loveable, constantly throwing himself on top of Namjoon when he works, never even thinking about sleeping on the couch instead preferring to curl around Yoongi or the foot of Namjoon’s bed at night. 

- Yoongi is his favorite thing to cuddle, no matter how the other hybrid whined and pushed him away, complaining to Namjoon when the younger nibbled and licked at Yoongi’s ears in something similar to grooming. Yoongi yowls and swats at Taehyung when he calls Yoongi “cub” ignoring him for a whole day and almost reducing the younger hybrid to tears. After that Taehyung always calls him hyung. 

- With Taehyung they definitely need more space, and Tae looks so forlorn looking out of the window every chance he gets, his tail swishing behind him every time someone walks down the street below. Namjoon wishes he had a yard or someplace to let Taehyung burn off all of his energy, It’s been a struggle to get legal papers for the hybrid and until he does, Namjoon can’t let him go outside so much. 

- Namjoon expedites the process for moving them. Getting a car finally so that they can take trips with a realtor to the outskirts of Seoul. The cottage that Namjoon finally decides on is a cozy 2 story with 2 bedrooms, the master with it’s attached study making up the entire second floor, it’s got a nice balcony there too and a combined living room and kitchen on the ground floor. the patio doors open up from the kitchen onto an old brick semi-circle. 

-  The whole building is made for a view of the rolling forested hills that start at the edge of their property. The Realator even says there are trails there. Namjoon’s never been a nature person but maybe he could be. It’s a little older, with squeaky floorboards but a lot of chareter, Taehyung says he can fix it up (a nice thought, but Yoongi and Namjoon both cringe when they think about letting Taehyung near power tools) 

- Taehyung certainly loves it- especially when he spies the open back yard and the pond at the border of their property, traipsing through it and getting covered with mud Much to Yoongi’s disgust. 

- “I am not letting you cuddle me until you’ve had at least 2 baths Tae” he growls when Taehyung tries to drown the other with hugs. Namjoon can’t bring it in himself to refuse him as Taehyung hugs him in the yard getting his black slacks dirty. 

- Namjoon’s squeal of protest makes a muted clucking resonate from the side of the house. Taehyung’s ears perk up, his tail stilling. “No no no Tae-“ Namjoon says, dashing after him when he takes off. The realtor mentioned something about chickens, and Namjoon feels dread fill his stomach as he thinks about explaining to them that yeah my hybrid attacked one of your chickens but it’s not really his fault because it’s just in his instincts too want to chase after things that are small and prey sized. 

- Coming around the side of the house with Yoongi hot on his heels. How the hell Taehyung managed to fit his shoulders and his whole body through a tiny door Namjoon doesn’t know, but he’s sitting in the chicken coup with one of the hens forcefully restrained in his lap, the ripple of purring immediately halting Namjoon and Yoongi as Taehyung rubs his scent all over the chicken.  

- “Fluffy babies.”  Taehyung says, while he pets rougher than the chicken likes. The chicken squawks and tries to get away, very uncomfortable with Taehyung’s forceful show of affection but unable to escape his hands. “my fluffy babies.” 

- “Did you like the house?” the relator asks when they come back inside. After they bribed Taehyung with ice-cream to get out of the chicken coop. “We’ll take it” Yoongi smiles, his hand on the small of Taehyung’s back, their tails entwine behind their back, something Yoongi only allows when he’s been feeling particularly affectionate.

- Moving is easy when you’ve got two young hybrids to help pack everything away and shove it into a small moving van. Namjoon says goodbye to his old apartment and the city he grew up in with both of his hybrids chatting away in the back seat of his car. 

- The hills and forest behind the cottage are misty in the morning of late fall. One of the unrealized consequences of moving out of Seoul is that now they can’t eat out for every meal (though there is a pizza place and an panda express in town that they order from often enough) but Yoongi surprisingly becomes the de facto cook.

- The countryside is much better for Namjoon’s mental health than the city was, in the mornings; he looks out from the second story balcony and feels calmness settle into his bones. Sometimes Yoongi will join him, wrapping his arms around Namjoon’s waist and nuzzling his head between his shoulders. 

- “You stole my heater.” Yoongi complains when Namjoon finally turns around. Namjoon kisses the pout off of Yoongi’s face, making him gasp and grip the front of Namjoon’s shirt.

- “You still have your other one back there.” Namjoon nods at their bedroom. The king-sized bed- freshly purchased, and Taehyung starfished in the middle of it, laying on his stomach, his tail flicking in his sleep. “Yeah but that one snores worse than you do.” 

- Namjoon’s chuckle rouses Taehyung from sleep. And he blinks up at them wearily, making grabby hands in their direction and whining for them to keep cuddling him.  Neither Namjoon nor Yoongi can turn him down. 

- It’s not a surprise when Namjoon finds both of his hybrids kissing one morning, Yoongi hoisted up on the counter in the kitchen so that he’s taller than Taehyung for once. Taehyung’s hands wrapped in Yoongi’s thighs almost swallowing them. When they pull away, Yoongi is so flustered that he nearly combusts when he sees Taehyung smirking at Namjoon like the cat that got the cream. 

- One month in, a fox sneaks into Taehyung’s chicken coop and kills 2 out of the 10 chickens, including his favorite one, a caramel colored on that was the softest according to Tae. Taehyung cries about it for a week and then he goes on a hunt, scouring the forested hills behind their property for any sign of the fox, and crying more when he finds none.  

- Thunder and a rainstorm rage outside a week after Taehyung gives up the hunt.  Namjoon’s family sits cozy at their wooden table with the chipped edges, warm soup and fresh bread almost ready to be eaten, Taehyung is telling Namjoon animatedly about a website he found that would let them order chickens like can you even believe that you can get baby chicks through the mail, like what do they eat when they’re- 

- And suddenly Taehyung stops, going still in the listless predatory way he does sometimes, his ears tilt in the direction of his chicken coup. Tae’s ears pick up on some movement outside making him dash out the door in fear, forgetting his shoes. Feet splashing in the mud outside the patio door left open in his hurry. 

- Taehyung has much finer senses than Yoongi does, so its not surprising that Taehyung picked up on the disturbance before Yoongi. But the other still dashes after him, Namjoon pulls on his shoes less quick then the others grabbing a flashlight off the mantle. 

- The wind outside pushes rain in his face as Namjoon trots towards the chicken coup, “Namjoon!” Yoongi yells, his voice panicked “come quick!” Namjoon starts running, not bothering to pull up the hood to his jacket against the coming rain; Yoongi is holding Taehyung back as his low growl ripples threateningly like the thunder above them. 

- And then through the coop a small, tiny whimper. Namjoon grabs a hold of Taehyung and peers around him dropping his flashlight in shock at what he sees. 

- Yoongi manages to tear Taehyung out of the door as Namjoon crouches down. “Hey there- they’re no need to be afraid,” he says, making his voice low and honeyed. Stretching out his hand. 

- The bunny hybrid in front of his is impossibly small, pillowed among the fresh hay that Taehyung had put in there just a day ago, clad in clothes that are no where near warm enough for the weather and soaked to the bone.  

- You shake with a mixture of fear and cold, your bunny ears almost hidden with how they’re tucked close to your skull. “I didn’t mean to trespass- I’m sorry I- it’s just so cold outside and-” you cut off with a whimper hiding your face in your hands.

-  Namjoon feels movement behind him and its Tae who’d momentarily gotten out of Yoongi’s hold Tae’s looking at you like he’s more curious than worried but you whimper and shrink back into the corner. 

- And Namjoon is pushing them both away, “No! no- don’t worry about them.” Yoongi murmurs that he’ll take Tae inside, and you relax when they disappear from view. “I’m sorry about Tae he’s just a little overprotective of his ladies” as if sensing that you’re talking about them- the chickens around you coo and huff in their feathers. You peer out of your hands at the chickens. Who look at you interested- to them you must smell different from the other hybrid they’re accustomed to hanging around.  

- “This chicken coop is no place someone to spend the night” Namjoon says, straitening up slowly as to not startle you, his hand still outstretched, “especially in this weather, but my houses is far warmer.” You stair at Namjoon’s hand for a moment, and internally he coos when your nose and your ear twitches. 

- You gnaw on your lower lip, but then you reach out tentatively so that you can take his hand and he can pull you up to your full height. You don’t even have to stoop in the chicken coop, whereas Taehyung almost has to double over. 

- How can someone be so small, Namjoon wonders as he carefully leads you back inside. You almost bolt again, several times, especially when you see Tae and Yoongi peering at you from around the corner as Namjoon ushers you upstairs. You’re still shaking like a leaf when he settles you into a bath and leaves you to disrobe and warm up in peace, saying that there’s some stew waiting for you downstairs when you’re ready. Leaving some clean clothes outside your door. 

- “I don’t want either of you making her feel uncomfortable when she comes downstairs, she’s skittish, and she’s clearly been through a lot, I don't want her getting startled.” 

- “It’s probably because we’re predators” Yoongi notes, carefully picking the meat out of a portion of the stew he made leaving the vegetables, especially careful to give you most of the baked carrots. Taehyung whines at Yoongi’s words, “I swear I wouldn’t have like- attacked her or anything- I was just so surprised to find another hybrid on our property.” 

- “uhm Namjoon” a quiet voice- your voice says from the doorway, you’re only half in it, hiding from behind the edge to shield your body, even in Yoongi’s clothes the long sleeve shirts is almost falling off your shoulder, the pants tied tights around a tiny waist the little black cotton tail poking out the hole that was usually for Yoongi’s tail.

- Yoongi and Namjoon resist the urge to coo when you blush, Taehyung watches you with his golden eyes, his tail swishing back and forth quickly. “Here darling” Namjoon says, extending a hand which you take and sit at the table, sitting on your hands, your ears are still pushed back against your wet hair. Still pinned back. 

- By the time you’ve finished your stew you’re nearly asleep in the soup bowl, slumped in your chair asleep, tipping to your left into Yoongi who catches you almost barely. His hand comes up shakily, Shure you’re still partially awake when he combs his hands through your hair, feeling the silkiness of your black ears. twined through your hair, pink in the middle and black on the outside, they twitch, your nose mimicking them when your head falls against his shoulder. a little buzzing noise coming out of your throat, sounding something like contentment. 

- Yoongi resists the urge to purr. His hand stills on your forehead, his eyebrows knit together, “she feels a little warm.” He murmurs to Namjoon and Taehyung. 

- Yoongi carries you to onto the couch, which Namjoon has cast a sheet over, lying your head against the pillow where you barely stir as Taehyung throws their fluffiest blanket over you, your feet quirking to the side kicking a little as your ears perk up. 

- Namjoon rests his hand against your flushed cheeks, Yoongi is right, a fever is slowly starting to rise within you. 

- “I don’t wanna take medicine” you whine when Namjoon makes you take some the next morning, though you have to admit you don’t feel so good, the heat in your body makes you feel hazy and not all there as you let a predator, an actual predator cuddle up to your side, though Taehyung whines from the doorway, still watching you. Though admittedly he’d tried, and you’d almost jumped off of the couch before Namjoon stopped Taehyung with a raised hand. 

- You’re not exactly intimidated by the tiger hybrid still, but your first meeting wasn’t exactly glowing by any review- so you’re comfortable with him staying away for now. “Would some carrots make it better?” Yoongi plies, and you’re distracted momentarily, but you still won’t open your mouth to take Namjoon’s waiting spoon full of red liquid for your throat. 

- Yoongi’s fingers tickle your bunny tail and make you shout, giving Namjoon the perfect opportunity to shove the medicine in your mouth. You’re pouty and angry at all of them until Yoongi brings you carrots and some more munchies including strawberry ice cream that makes your ears flop and twitch happily.  

- Namjoon lets you stretch out across his lap as he pets your ears, by the end of the day you’re feeling better, not quite so hazy and you gush to him about how you didn’t know something could be so cute and yummy at the same time.

- Which of course Leeds Namjoon to buying you a light pink pullover and a white skirt as well as knee socks and a whole bunch of pastel clothing that you absolutely adore wearing. Even getting you a little bit of makeup because girls like that sort of thing don’t they? 

- Namjoon cannot resist spoiling all of you; he’s always sitting next to you and pulling you to lie against him, as well as hoisting your feet up in his lap to rub a lazy thumb across your shins. It takes you a little while to adjust to just how affectionate Namjoon and the others can be, but you begin to accept more of it. As spring warms to summer Namjoon finds himself taking the three of you out more often, into town and into the outskirts of the city. 

- Official adoption papers where easy to come by for you and Taehyung now that you where both out of the city where the laws where more harsh. Stray hybrids where often found out here and adopted as farm hands, it was easy to claim both you and Taehyung as adoptees. And Namjoon even got a tax right off. 

- He celebrates by taking the three of his hybrids out to the movies and dinner, and you all argue between which movie you should see, a mystery (Yoongi’s choice), an action thriller (Taehyung’s choice), and a romantic comedy (your choice.)

- It’s not surprising to Namjoon that they end up watching the romantic comedy. All you have to do is pout and Taehyung and Namjoon melt unable to resist you and the way your ears flop around your face, your eyes wide and almost tear-filled, your nose twitching cutely. 

- God they are so so whipped for you already it’s not even funny. 

- Yoongi is the only one who it take convincing, and he ends up pouting on the other side of Namjoon who holds your hand through all the sad parts while Taehyung practically wails on the other side of you, always a little sensitive. 

- “You’re all a bunch of crybabies.” Yoongi complains, but later you catch him holding onto your hand a little tighter, not wanting to let it go when you go to get fresh fruit parfaits afterword’s at the only all-night restaurant in town and you know the sad ending where the two love interests don’t end up together is weighing on him in a way he won’t express. 

- You’re still sleeping in the living room that night when Yoongi comes down and peels back the covers to slip underneath your little burrow of warmth to press his head against your neck and scent mark you, the usual way he greets you now. “Wanna come to the big bed tonight?” he asks, and you make a non-committal noise as he pulls you up. 

- In the main bedroom Taehyung is already asleep, but Namjoon is still writing more, his head against the headboard and his eyes tired, glasses pushed up on his face as he sighs and runs his fingers through his hair, making it stick up in all sorts of directions. 

- “Joonie you should go to sleep.” Yoongi says, “the writers block will be better in the morning” forcefully pushing Namjoon’s laptop closed “just one more second, need to save,” he says, barely casting you a glance as you go over to his side of the bed and tell him too scoot over while Yoongi peals back Taehyung’s arms and settles himself under the crook up his elbow. 

- Yoongi’s tail flicks as he watches Namjoon write a few more seconds. Finally leaning up to press a kiss to his lips and take the laptop out of his lap. “Alright alright” Namjoon says when his hybrid pulls away, his lips pink and damp and cute. “Bed now- I get it-“

- Namjoon runs a hand down your back next to him where you’re propped up on a pillow under your chest too look at him. Namjoon see’s the way you’re looking at him and know, knows what you’re thinking and what you want. After all how many goodnight kisses does Taehyung whine for on the regular? It took at least a dozen to get him to go to sleep that night without Yoongi in the bed even though he was bone tired from repairing the chicken coup today. 

- “Want a goodnight kiss sweetheart?” Your tail twitches happily as you nod, Namjoon leans one hand supporting himself on the other side of your head, his lips sweet and soft that make you sigh against the seem of his lips. 

- Yoongi would never say anything, but in that moment, he looks up at Tae and finds him watching you with something like longing in his eyes. But he doesn’t mention it ever, only holding onto the other hybrids shoulder and nuzzling further into him. 

- Yoongi looks up more vegetable heavy recipes for you, looking up online the correct balance and dietary needs of prey hybrids, as canine hybrids can basically eat like humans with no bad effects but you’ll get sick if you eat even half as much meat as Taehyung, Yoongi, and Namjoon do. 

- You feel a little guilty that sometimes Yoongi has to make you something entirely different when he cooks dinner offering to help him constantly.  You know how stressed it makes him when Taehyung asks for bulgogi and pad thai which Yoongi doesn’t even know how to make. And of course Taehyung is too adorable to turn down, but Yoongi simply can’t make all of that by himself. 

- So you help Yoongi in the kitchen sometimes, because Taehyung manages to cut himself almost consistently within the first 20 minutes of cooking every time. And after the last one needed stitches and had him licking at it for a few weeks, he has been officially banned from the kitchen. Whenever Namjoon tries Yoongi just straight up growls at him because he is not dealing with cleaning up after Namjoon. 

- And you guys have a fun doing it too, cooking is always better with a companion and though you’re not entirely hopeless Yoongi does enjoy teaching you how to cook, humming alongside you in the kitchen as he stirs some fishcake around with wooden chopsticks. 

- You express a desire to learn how to bake and not cook which Yoongi can't help with but agrees to try, and by the time you have the batter for the strawberry shortcake poured in the pan Yoongi’s black hair is almost grey with how much flower is in it. he obsessively grooms himself later that night, alongside you whose ears have turned similarly as powdery from hanging in your face like they do when you’re concentrating. 

- You giggle when Yoongi grooms them giving into his urge to care for you. These instincts regarding mates can be annoying for cat hybrids like Yoongi- who ignores his animal instincts as much as he can most of the time. 

- Yoongi thinks your ears are absolutely adorable when they hang in your face or when one of them lifts in the direction of whoever's talking when you’re concentrated like that. It’s almost like they have a life of their own

- You complain about them sometimes, pushing back your ears from your face when you get a little too focused on something and they block your vision. One morning you come down to find a pink scrunch on the table and ask Yoongi who blushes and stutters.

- “I got it for your ears because you don’t like the way rubber bands feel on your hair” Yoongi recalled that the other day when you went to the store and picked up hair ties, notifying Namjoon that rubber band just wouldn’t work. And that regular hair ties pinch your ears too much “ you know- so that they don’t get into your face when we cook or when you’re trying to do your makeup.” 

- You forget to put it on most of the time until you’re already doing something, because it does look a little goofy when you tie up your ears, your hands elbow deep in the dishes when you call Yoongi’s name and he swoops up your ears and fastens them together on top of your head with the pink scrunchie. 

- And then you start to lose it, Yoongi finds it under the couch and sighs, putting it on his own wrist where it lives when you’re not using it, always ready in case you ask for it. Namjoon smirks at him when he catches Yoongi looking at it one day and tugging at it with a little lovesick expression. “Stop looking at me like that” he growls, trying to disguise the flush on his cheeks. “It’s not my fault I’m the only one who can keep track of things in this house.” 

- Yup, Yoongi is definitely whipped for you. 

- Eventually you get good enough with makeup to try and beg Yoongi to let you put on him “hell no y/n, I’m like some fierce panther or something I am not letting you put me in bubble gum lipstick.” 

- “I could put some on!” Taehyung says, and you giggle a little and shyly put on some red on his lips, and when he leans over and kisses your cheek, making you startle and hop back, he grins when he sees the kiss mark he’s left. Which of course Leeds Taehyung to kissing you all over your face to leave little red marks, and then begging for you to apply more so that he can give Yoongi and Namjoon the same treatments.

- Taehyung wakes one morning early, gets out of bed because he knows its going to be a nice day and the chickens will probably need to be let out to mill about the back yard. And he descends the rickety stairs and find you already in the kitchen, drinking some tea and clacking away on the phone that Namjoon bought you last week.

- Taehyung gives you a small smile, staring at you with longing as he tells you good morning, your ears flick in his direction as you lift your head in his direction as you give him a small smile that makes his heart race. And Taehyung can’t bear it any longer, doesn’t want to stay away anymore, he’s been trying to give you enough space to get comfortable with him like Joonie said. 

- “Do y-you wanna come out and get the eggs with me today?” you take a sip of your earl grey tea, looking like you’re going to refuse and Taehyung wonders why he even bothered when he knew you weren’t ready when your ears perk up in interest, and you stand to put your teacup in the sink. 

- Taehyung stutters as he tells you their names, his too-big boots sloshing a little as you spread some seed around in the grass, making excited little noises every time they cluck, even mimicking the little noises Taehyung makes and giggling with him as he does this little call and response thing with his chickens.  

- “And now the best part” he grins, opening up the back of the coup to have access to the nests, “they’re still warm!” you cry in delight as Tae deposits two brown eggs into your hands and takes the rest that are there in his hands 3 in one hand and 2 in the other. 

- The big fluffy white chicken that’s too shy to let Taehyung get within a foot of her comes up next to you, pecking around your feet as you watch her in wonder. “She’s super shy I wouldn’t try to pet her” Taehyung warns, he himself had gotten pecked more than once.  You stoop down, the chicken gives you soft clucks as Taehyung pouts, and your smile soft and eyes wide in wonder as you she lets you pet her before fluffing her feathers and moving away. 

- “She never lets me do that!” he cries later when they’re inside, Yoongi clacking away on his computer and Namjoon upstairs writing. Yoongi’s ears flick in annoyance as he spies the way you’re no longer skirting around Taehyung like he has the plague or some very nasty infectious disease, “I can’t believe you got marshmallow to trust you! I feel betrayed!” 

- “Marshmallow did what now?” Namjoon says as he descends the stairs, still in his pajamas even though its nearly 2 in the afternoon his hair sticking up the way it does when his writers block is particularly bad. Of course all of them know the names of Taehyung’s chickens by now, given how much he talked about them.

- Taehyung launches into the story as you fold yourself against Yoongi on the couch, your body a line up against him, he purrs and nudges into your shoulder, tempting a lick against your cheek, which make you squeak. 

- “Stop that” you whine as Yoongi pulls you against his chest, lying his laptop on your lap instead of his but hooking his chin over the side of your shoulder so that he can still see it “Don’t lie and say you hate it,” which makes you pout but you accept his affection, your small cotton tail twitching against his thigh. 

- Seokjin comes to visit Namjoon’s new house and you’re entirely smitten with the gorgeous human, your ears shyly pinned to your head the entire time he’s here, smoothing out the giant sweater of Namjoon’s every few seconds and almost melting when Seokjin says “you have the best luck finding the most well behaved and beautiful hybrids.”

- Seokjin even reaches out and closes his hand around the base of your ear, drawing his hand away to feel the silky texture, “I have half a mind to take one for myself.” You squeak and blush and hide your face in Namjoon’s shoulder as both of them men chuckle.

- But Namjoon smiles as you perpetually hide behind him, “he’s just teasing you sweetheart,” Namjoon says as you shyly peer at Seokjin out of your protected place behind Namjoon’s chair. It feels kind of nice when you hide behind him, trusting your human to be your protector.

- It was easy for Namjoon to rely on Taehyung and Yoongi for most things, especially when it came to his anxiety, but to feel depended on in the way you depend on Namjoon makes his heart swell with this different kind of pride. You make Namjoon feel strong and protective. He pulls you to sit across his lap and lock his arms around you. You still hide your face in Namjoon’s neck, peering out at the other human every few seconds. 

- Yoongi and Taehyung boil though at Seokjin’s words, because no one is going to mess with your little unit even if they’re just joking, and Tae can’t believe that Namjoon’s human friend got to touch you like that, though a look from Yoongi stops Tae from growling at Seokjin. 

- Petty as always, Taehyung and Yoongi don’t let Seokjin pet them like usual before he leaves, instead he snuggles up to you screaming “Aish! You brats- you don’t know how to properly love your hyung!” Tae even steps forward like he’s going to do something when Seokjin presses a kiss too your cheek in goodbye, making you squeak and blush.

- That night Taehyung and Yoongi are a little bit possessive of you crowding you in-between the both of them on the couch while you watch movies, not letting you get up to make popcorn or for drinks. Taehyung even squeezes your shoulders in a relaxing back massage, smirking when you relax into his hands, tipping your head back, your ears relaxed at your size even when he nibbles a little at your ears. 

- Namjoon thinks it’s absolutely adorable how possessive his two hybrids are over you. 

- You and Namjoon go on walks in the mist in the early mornings sometimes when Taehyung and Yoongi take forever to wake up, with him by your side the woods don’t seem as scary as they did back when you lived in them.  

- Most of the time Namjoon will link his arm with yours and tell you in his low timbre about the fantasy worlds he imagines just behind the hills that you walk through. And it’s amazing how for Namjoon, it always seems like adventure is around the corner of the wooded path. 

- Living in the wilderness has been amazing for his productivity, writing, and imagination. He’s content to bounce his ideas off of you in your morning walks and not actually live through the adventures he dreams up. Namjoon finds you a surprisingly good beta reader as well and you absolutely swoon when he writes romance into his fantasy stories. 

- One day you read his draft and stomp up to his office and pout, your ears twitching agitated and your foot even stomping, “you can not leave a romance story this good at such a cliffhanger Namjoon! Your readers are going to hunt you down and slap you before I do!” Namjoon just grins and says with a wry smile, “I can tell you how the next book ends if it will make you feel better?” 

- Some mornings you don’t join Namjoon for his early walk, and on those you’ll wake up to soft bluebells or pink cosmos from the feilds lying on his pillow next to your head, or on one of the shelves in your closet, or in one of the brush containers by your makeup stash in the bathroom. 

- Sometime Taehyung will wake up early as well and join you- though in those times the conversation will often turn into a horror story retelling which will make you press closer too the two of them with every strange noise that greets you on your walk- which of course was Taehyung’s plan all along. 

- One day Taehyung goes into the shared master bedroom to find it in chaos every single blanket and pillow in the house alongside some of their clothes piled into a big puddle. He finds you sleeping in one of Taehyung’s red sweatshirt in the center of the nest. Your cream silk shorts poking out from underneath the hem, one of your socks pulled up your thigh and the other down around your ankle. 

- Taehyung huffs and crawls into the middle of the nest and wraps his arms around you. Nesting or burrowing is a regular enough behavior of rabbit hybrids that it doesn’t alarm Taehyung though you’ve never made one out of the bedroom before. 

- You wake up a little making sleepy noises and letting out the cutest little yawn, your black bunny ears twitching aggressively for a moment and then going totally still the next as he snuggles in next to you. You let Taehyung manhandle you across his chest and you’re vaguely aware of him purring and rubbing his chin around the top of your head.

- “You’re mine- my fluffy bunny.” He murmurs his voice a low growl as he scent marks you again and again until you’re bathed in the tiger’s rich spicy scent.

- You’re in and out of a haze sleeping in your little nest/fort thing that you’ve made but somewhere along the afternoon Yoongi joins in on the other side of you, rubbing at your shoulder too, crowded in between both of them and unbelievably warm. 

- Yoongi’s tail, always more dexterous than Tae’s thicker one curls around one of your legs, and there is one hand running endlessly over your ears, especially around the base of them, and another rubbing a hand down your back under your shirt, scratching a little lightly around the base of your tail. 

- And then the next time you come too in the haze of your nap you’re on your back, and you have one face resting on your stomach, Yoongi’s judging by the black hair that pushes against where the sweatshirt has ridden up, Yoongi’s arms wrapped around your waist. 

- But that’s not why you’ve woken up, your back arches and a sigh leaves your mouth as Tae nips along the edge of your jaw sometimes stopping to suck at the skin, his oral fixation that all hybrids tend to have acting up maybe, or maybe not, especially when you start to squirm he lets out a low growl. “Would you let me mark you, let me make you ours?” he grounds out his voice low and breathy. 

- Namjoon can only smile in amusement as he finally reaches his writers block for a day and comes in to find his bedroom torn apart and his three hybrids lounging in each others warmth, both your and Yoongi’s necks are a masterpiece of red and purple marks and Taehyung humming happily as he tries to snuggle closer to both of you.  Taehyung even has a few marks on his collarbones.  Your head pokes up at the noise, your ears at attention as Yoongi whines when you remove your neck from the reach of his mouth, 

- You smile sleepily up at him eyes closing slowly before you reach up, Namjoon entwines his fingers with yours slowly, his large hands dwarfing your small ones, until you tug him down with a little yelp on his part. 

- You get so many kisses on a daily basis. You get your good morning ones from Namjoon, usually tasting like coffee, and Kisses that are smiley and almost taste like a laugh when you pout from Namjoon, and slow relaxed kisses that happen in the hazy gray light of the living room when it’s gotten late enough to turn the lights on but no ones bothered yet.

- You get ones from Yoongi when you do something cute or just because he wants too (usually when you’re drinking your tea or smiling softly at something and he gets this burst of emotion that prompts him to stop whatever he’s doing and kiss your pink lips).

- And endless kisses from Tae- though both Namjoon and Yoongi are as much a victim of his kisses as well, whenever he bounds in from the outdoors, whenever someone does something particularly cute, like drop a mug or crash into the door without his glasses (Namjoon,) like pout and say something biting and grumpy (Yoongi) or when you do that little thing where you crunch your jaw happily around your food or excitedly run around one of the three of them in circles.

- That particular behavior has Namjoon smiling something soft and suspicious and even Yoongi starts to grin after a point. And it feels like the two of them have some secret inside joke that Taehyung’s not apart of when he sees it. 

- “What are you hiding from me- why did you look at Yoongi like that when Y/n started to do the circle thing.” Taehyung pouts one morning after it happens in the kitchen. 

- “We’re just happy Tae” Namjoon soothes, Taehyung’s head is lying across his lap in the office and the hybrid pouting lips tickling against his bare thigh. 

- “I looked up hybrid behavior on the internet a few weeks ago- you know because you and Yoongi are a little easier to read but Y/n has a few indecipherable behaviors- its actually really interesting from a genetic point of view why prey type hybrids tend to have more typically animal behaviors-“ 

- Taehyung lets Namjoon ramble on about some paper he read when he was doing research for his last book, straightening up to press a kiss to his lips that makes Namjoon stop and blush because an excited Namjoon is an absolutely adorable Namjoon and Taehyung always always always wants to kiss his boyfriends.

- “Oh just spit it out,” he says when Taehyung sees that adorable shy smile that Namjoon’s says, running his fingers through his kiss mused hair. 

- “The circling thing- it means she’s selecting us as her mates.”

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