#this fucking account guy is getting on my last goddamn nerve

[asmolbirb]

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[haz3-daz3]

Here I'm then with a drifters request ^^. What about some fluffy Naoshi hc's? I need some fluff in my life right now haha (tell me if it's too vague!)

I did it. idk if this counts as fluff however :/

I hope it's enough though!

lots of swearing because hey it's not a Naoshi fic without the swearing

Naoshi Kanno x F!Reader Fluff Headcanons (SFW)

So being stuck in the woods where a bunch dogs and cats walking on two feet referring to you as some weird-ass “Sky God” or whatever the shit they decide to label you as definitely going to grate on a guy’s nerves. Especially if your name is Naoshi Kanno.

Why in the hell is he even here? The man remembers seeing the blue sea fuckin’ plummeting into it in high speed and suddenly he’s in somewhere else where dragons and shit are hogging the sky who then burn a bunch of people to a crisp. Which Naoshi took care of because fuck that shit messing up with his head.

And now he’s in said woods, or jungle, he can’t fucking tell all he knows is that it’s hot as summer dog shit. Which wouldn’t surprise there’s way too many dogs in this place. And not to mention a goddamn Italian who can’t speak Japanese. Asshole.

So when you appeared all stupid with that dumb airheaded smile and speaking in his tongue he had to take a double take because what in the fuck, why the fuck was there some chick here??? Also what translation charms?? This world is too damn confusing he sometimes thinks he’s drunk too much and is dreaming at some bar or in the barracks drooling on the floor.

But ever since then, you’ve, for some reason, decided that you found him fun and have been following him around because…well fuck if he knows. This entire follow-Naoshi thing has been going on for some weeks now and…it’s not unpleasant. Not that he’ll ever admit that to you. Tch.

It’s not that Naoshi doesn’t know how to interact with women, he’s certainly asked his friends and comrades in the 343rd Air Group to send gals his way on account of him wanting to settle down after the war but you’re quite different from those more demure dames that he’s used to, huh? He finds it weird that he’s just accepted that he was kind of being pursued instead of being the pursuer. Not the kind of things a man thinks about while speeding through the air trying not to get killed before taking down everyone else with you but then again, Naoshi rarely thought too deeply besides where he’ll get his next meal, lay or drink. Or all of it.

In other words, Naoshi’s dumbly staring at you all unsure because for some reason you thought it’d be great to cut up those apples and peel mangoes you keep asking the Italian to help you get and feeding it to him because he was apparently being “too cranky”? He was pissed off because damn bugs keep getting stuck to his scarf and what the fuck keeps biting him?!

“The fuck do you mean cranky?! This hellhole’s got mosquitoes everywhe—“

That was the sound of you shutting Naoshi up by shoving a bunny-carved apple into his wide, spitballing, ranty mouth.

“You’re not you when you’re hungry.” You said, snickering like it was supposed to mean something but really it just made him chew on his fruit more, enraged. But just as he was about to speak, you shoved more fruits into his mouth.

The entire afternoon was spent with you being your weird 2024 self asking shit about him and his life and…being interested. Which he won’t lie was refreshing, but he hated the fact that it left him feeling unsure since his previous flings would ask him shit too but never with that look in your eye.

Naoshi still can’t believe you’re from a hundred and so years after he was born. “Are all the women in your time this forward?” He snorted, willingly snagging a bite of the mango you’ve peeled for the nth time, he doesn’t know nor care. It just feels oddly nice sitting down under a tree and not think about whether he’ll be sent to a mission that might mean his last, whether he’ll even have the chance to say goodbye to friends and family.

But your reply threw him off balance more than the first time his Kawanishi N1K failed on him and he thought he was gonna die.

“Only to the men we like.”

…Huh.

“The fuck?” Naoshi muttered, his voice not that loud, belligerence-laced tone that it usually was as he looked at you and oh shit, that blush is cute.

You only smiled to yourself all coy and bashful and he doesn’t know how the fuck you manage that but he stayed frozen on the ground, mango juices staining the corner of his lips while he watched you walk away.

And then his brain finally caught up with what happened and he scrambled to his feet, sprinting after you, catching your wrist.

Pulling you to him, your body pressed against his chest as he decided “fuck it” and smashed his lips against yours.

Was it uncoordinated as shit? It was but that didn’t matter.

Not when you tilted your head and your hands went up under his aviator’s cap to grasp at his trimmed black strands.

[i-am-mldy]

Let me just get straight to the point since yall are getting on my last nerve:

Fire and Blood is a BIASED IN UNIVERSE HISTORICAL ACCOUNT OF THE DANCE OF THE DRAGONS. COMPARING IT TO THE TV SHOW IS STUPID. "Oh Alicent/Daemon/Rhaenyra/everyone else is supposed to be like this cus in the book—" SHUT THE FUCK UP YOU'RE FUCKING ANNOYING

Daemon is an asshole and a sociopath, and yall are shocked he choked Rhaenyra out of frustration? The guy who mercilessly killed his 1st wife? The guy who lured his young niece to a brothel to ruin her reputation then bailed halfway? I'm sorry but nobody told you to put this guy on any moral high ground. He can love his family AND still be a toxic piece of shit

Aemond is all bravado and pent up childhood rage. He has never known real fucking battle. Of course he loses control of his dragon and accidentally kills someone! That's what happens when you give a teenager a seasoned sentient weapon of mass destruction!!! The way yall paint him as this merciless killer aren't getting the nuance this show wants to present! These kids were not MADE FOR WAR

Rhaenyra is weak for not attacking first? EVEN AEGON DIDN'T WANT WAR. NOBODY WANTED THE WAR THAT IS THE BOTTOMLINE. WAR WOULD RUIN EVERYTHING AND THEY ALL KNEW THAT. Yall are playing into the same damn pattern of misogyny when Daemon and all the other men in the room were so eager to question and negate Rhaenyra's every command

The show has genuine flaws but these are just so annoying to hear over and fucking over. The whole goddamn point of the show is that the Dance was fucking avoidable. If only Rhaenys was crowned instead of Viserys. If only Viserys didn't marry a child. If only he actually loved and cared for his children w/ Alicent. If only he stood firm and faced the internal conflicts brewing in the family head on. If only both sides didn't sow the seeds of animosity between their children. If only Otto didn't poison Alicent's mind with paranoia and a false sense of moral righteousness.

The Dance was avoidable. That's why it's a tragedy. Both sides genuinely believe in the justification of their actions. Everyone's mistakes built on each other until they were too big to fix.

[justfangirlthingies]

Caught my eye (Corpse Husband x reader)

Soulmate AU: In which everyone has one eye in their own eye colour and one in the colour of their soulmate. However, when you are close to meeting each other, your vision will change to the soulmate's one, letting you know you are close. When your eyes meet they will change their colour to their original eye colour.

Word count: 4189 words

Warnings: cursing because that is automatically given when writing about Corpse

Another Soulmate AU from my Wattpad account let's go!

Staring into the camera were a pair of, colourwise mismatched, eyes, one iris a deep brown and the other one a shimmering (e/c).

It was not unusual for someone to have two different eye colours in one set of eyes, it simply meant one had yet to find their significant other.

Pressing record on your camera you let your eyes stay right in front of the lens for a second before rolling backwards on your chair, your torso now in frame as well "Hello all of you beautiful individuals! I'm (y/yt/n) and as always I welcome you here!" You waved at your camera, a warm and welcoming smile gracing your lips. "In case this is your first time stumbling over this channel" you paused a second and giggled "Hi, welcome to this chaos!" Slowly you neared the camera again "Leave while you still can" you whisper shouted into your microphone.

"No hold on don't leave please! I was just kidding" You joked at your camera.

A happy sigh escaped your mouth as you leaned back in your chair "Today is q & a time isn't it?" You wiggled your eyebrows at the blinking light in front of you "Well let's get to it then...hmm...lemme see. Youtubetrash asks 'how old are you (Y/n)?' Do you always have to ask that question guys?" You scold playfully "I'm 19, but I really don't get why this is so important to you that I have to answer it in every video, like do you want to know the exact amount of days and minutes? Will you stop asking it every goddamn time then?" You chuckled as you ran a hand through your (h/l), (h/c) hair. "Right, next question! SusanIsAFish wants to know which eye colour my own is. I can easily answer that with either 'both are' or 'hell if I know' I've always had two eye colours like how am I supposed to know." A grin spread on your face as you continued to interact with your community's questions...

"Alright alright these are the last two questions guys. Nightmaresscareme...honestly same" you laughed as you read the users name out aloud. When you calmed down again you cleared your throat and continued "Ahem, anyways they wanna know if I found my soulmate already and who it is....Do I look like I found my soulmate?" You asked smiling as you approached the recording device once again and pointed a finger at each eye. "I have no Idea who it is but maybe you find whoever it is because all of you people are little Sherlock's I swear, you find out everything." Laughter erupted from your throat once again as you pointed at your camera.

"Last but not least, (y/n)stan asks 'when will you collab with Jack again? The two of you promised to make a video or something together?' Woah calm down, honestly I don't even think he remembers that, it was years ago. How do you even remember that (y/n)stan? I swear to god that's exactly what I meant with ya'll being Sherlock's." You wiggled your eyebrows again "But if you do remember, Seán and you magically happen to see this video. What happened to our collab plans dude?" You giggled "Alrighty guys that's it for today's video. Stay awesome my dudes, dudettes and in betweens and I'll see ya in the next one!" You winked and waved before stopping your recording and going straight to editing your video.

Just as you were about to upload your piece of work, your phone rang, scaring you in the process and causing you to delete your video. You groan in frustration holding your head in your palms.

"This better be important..." you mumbled to yourself as you went to check your phone. Seriously?! It was a Twitter notification. You sighed and ignored it for now, saving your video was a priority right now.

After hours of retrieving and re-editing your footage you finally uploaded the video to the worldwide known platform and picked up your phone to see what Twitter wanted from you.

As you opened the app you saw that it was a private message from none other than Jacksepticeye. What a freaking coincidence you thought, a smile now appearing on your face as you read the message. All your frustration was gone and instead replaced with confusion and laughter.  "What kind of message is that?" You muttered as you shook your head laughing.

Jacksepticeye:

Hey (Y/n) what colours are your eyes again?

(Y/T/N):

What kinda question is that? Lmao

Jacksepticeye:

Just answer my question dum dum :)

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A raven haired male was on a discord call with his online friend that he had just revealed his face to. "Jack what are you doing now?" The young man laughed at his friend.

"Hold on, I'm texting someone."

The dark haired man sighed and waited "that's not very polite you know" he smiled.

"Pschh I'm finding your soulmate, what's impolite about that?" The Irish man looked up from his phone and back at his Computer screen. Only to start laughing at the other's reaction.

"Corpse? You good?" He kept on laughing at the dumbfounded expression on Corpse's face.

Who as a reaction turned off his camera, suddenly feeling very insecure towards his friend again.

"What do you mean?" His deep voice asked cautious.

"Don't worry man I'm not leaking your face or any info to anyone" he smiled reassuringly. "Your eyes just reminded me of someone else with the same or very similar ones. At least I hope I remember their eye colours correctly" He rambled on.

"Oh..." came from the other line, which was now more quiet than usual.

Seán noticed the change in his friend's behaviour and immediately stopped what he was doing. "I'm sorry Corpse..." the Irishman scratched bis neck awkwardly "I should've asked you first"

"I-it's fine. I just can't imagine anyone wanting to be my soulmate" the male sighed.

His friend flashed an encouraging smile at the screen "Dude! Anyone would be happy to be your soulmate. I know I would be! You are great, I know you probably don't believe me but I mean it bud. Besides, your soulmate is your other half, it's like they were made for you"

One could hear a sigh coming from the black screen as Corpse turned his camera back on, his pink tinted cheeks now showing up on screen as well. He had put his eye-patch on, leaving only his brown eye visible. "And you're really sure?" He asked quietly.

"100% sure! Anyone with half a brain would know how lovable you are" the blue eyed male grinned. "Besides, the person I'm thinking of also has a YouTube channel, I think I still owe them a collab, sooo I could maybe invite them to play some kind of-"

He cut himself off. "They answered!"

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(Y/T/N):

Well they're like brown and (e/c), it's such a weird mix though.

Jacksepticeye:

Interesting.

Hey (Y/n), how about we do that collab? You could fly out and we meet up

(Y/T/N):

You still remember that? XD

Yeah sure I'd love that, I just had someone ask me about that collab today.

But seriously dude why are my eyes interesting to you all of a sudden? You found my soulmate or smth 🧐😂

Jacksepticeye:

😏😌🤭🤫

Right....

So when are you coming?

(Y/T/N):

Dude!

You literally just asked me if I even wanna come! Like come on, you think I've booked a flight already? Just like 10 minutes after you asked me to travel there?

Jacksepticeye:

As a matter of fact I don't just think so, I know it ;)

So when do I have the honors of picking your jet-lagged ass up at the airport?

(Y/T/N):

:(

...

This weekend

Time skip

A happy sigh escaped your lips as you felt the plane reaching the ground of its destination. You swiftly grabbed your bag and left the plane to get the rest of your luggage.

A yawn escaped your mouth as you grabbed your stuff, staying awake during the whole flight probably wasn't your best idea, but you couldn't help it. To you it was simply impossible to fall asleep on a journey by plane.

Your eyes skimmed the airport as you were searching for your friend.

After a few minutes of looking around you decided to sit down and wait, he was probably still on his way to the airport.

Just as you decided to open up your phone you got smacked in the face... With a balloon? "What the hell?" You whispered as you were pulled up from your seat and embraced. "(Y/N)! Hey! I haven't seen you in forever"

You looked up a little confused as you reciprocated the hug. "Well hello to you too Seán"

He chuckled and grabbed one of your bags before dragging you with him. "How can you be so motivated and energetic?" You giggled and tried to keep up with your Irish friend. "That (Y/n), is simply because I'm not sleep deprived like you"

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Setting up his stream was a curly haired nervous mess. He was always nervous when he had to stream. But today was somehow worse.

The half Mexican ran his fingers through his hair. It was just a game with friends right? However, he had never played this game before.

His nerves getting to him caused Corpse to cancel the idea of a stream. "I'll just be there and play along, that's fine too. I don't need to stream every time I'm playing a game with my friends..." he muttered to himself.

With a bottle of water beside him he started the game and went through the tutorial. "Man this game is fucking cute" he laughed before joining the discord call, just to be engulfed in a complete chaos of voices.

"Hey Corpse is here! Hi hi!" A Swedish voice boomed through his headphones along with the rest of the group greeting him. "Hey guys" he replied as he joined their server in the game. "So what are we doing? Why is no one starti-" the deep voice started but was cut of by someone else.

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"HOLY FUCKING- Who the hell was that?! Hello by the way" The whole call erupted in laughter at the reaction of the (h/c) haired individual.

"Uhh hi, that was me" Corpse answered laughing as he scratched his head nervously "and you also just answered my question for me thank you, whoever you are" Everyone laughed once again.

"Okay but seriously who are you?" Dave asked.

"Jack! You said you told em that I'd join" you huffed as you glanced At your friend next to you, you were sharing one discord account for this call as you sat right next to each other and didn't want the quality of the call to go down because of an echo. Both of you streamed online on twitch.

"Whoops! I thought I did" he chuckled once more as he introduced you to the party. "Well then..." he coughed in an attempt to clear his throat "Drum-roll please! this is (Y/n), they came to visit me this weekend. (Y/n), that's Dave, Felix, Joel, PJ and Corpse."

"Hi" you said suddenly a little nervous because you thought everyone knew you'd join.

Luckily no one seemed to mind that you were here as they greeted you. In fact, they seemed ecstatic to meet you.

"So have any of you not played this before?" Pewds asked the group. "Uh yeah, me" Yours and the deep voice said simultaneously. "But I did the tutorial" Corpse added. "Well I didn't" you laughed. "Great then we're all set, shame on you though (Y/n)!" Seán shouted.

"Jeez man, you told me to skip it and I can hear you! I'm right next to you and not deaf in case you didn't know" you sassed back, causing laughter to bounce through your headset once more.

"(Y/n) and Corpse you two haven't played before that means you count as one person for the group things cause both of you are noobs and if you count as one we have even team numbers" The swede joked.

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"We're the Meowfia" Jack laughed, starting off with his puns for this game.

(Y/n) snorted at that as everyone chose the animals of their teams. Corpse chose the cat with an eye-patch along with his team. "Maan this is peer pressure!" Your voice called out "lucky for me I like cats"

"That is the truth" the Irish voice boomed through the call once again, "I mean you should see, even their headphones have cat ears"

"I wanna see that!" Dave shouted.

"Can we see them in your cam Jack?" PJ asked.

"Not completely, they're streaming on Twitch though, its at (Y/YT/N) on Twitch and YouTube" Seán smiled as he pat your back.

"You can't just expose me like that!" The cute voice answered panicking.

"I gotta see that, hold on!" Felix shouted as he opened up your stream smirking as he followed you. "Corpse, they'll ruin your life" he continued as your cheeks flushed a bright red, suddenly feeling so exposed and put on the spot "why...why am I ruining his life?" You asked, cocking an eyebrow.

Corpse had also opened up your account as he stared in awe at the enchanting individual now on his computer screen. Were you the one Jack had meant? No it couldn't be.

"Well you see, he wrote a song about cat girls ruining his life. Right Corpse?" This statement made him come back to reality and quite flustered at that "Huh? What-  ...ohhh uhm- uh- yeah" he responded in a stutter, the pale skin of his cheeks heating up and turning red.

"Corpse are you alright?" you asked, concern not only laced in your voice but also written all over your face, which he saw. This whole ordeal just made him blush more. There was a short pause "...Yeah.." the raven haired responded. But not even a second later a laugh erupted in the call "Did we just catch you right handed?" The voice belonged to Dave. "What do you mean?" Corpse asked confused. While he waited for a response from his friend, he started fiddling with his rings as he kept his eyes on (Y/N)'s stream which was still pulled up on his screen. "Well, did we catch you watching her stream?" Dave replied trying to hold in his laughter.

Your expression changed as your eyes went wide and you looked right at your camera "Is that true?" Your voice chimed in as a hint of pink spread across your cheeks, one of your eyebrows arched. "Well..." The man with the username 'CORPSE' cleared his throat "I had to see if Jack and Felix were speaking the truth..."

A smirk spread across your face "And? Were they honest?" you laughed as your Irish companion moved his face into the frame of your camera wiggling his eyebrows. The only answer you got to your question was silence before the deep voice continued "Alright let's start this game." Yet another laugh escaped your throat when you noticed the lack of a reply to your question. However, one could say that silence was an answer on its own.

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The young guy sighed loudly after the game had ended, rolling back, away from his table, in his gaming chair he ran his hands through his curly hair. The game was fun, but it was exhausting for the man to concentrate on a game this long. Just as he was about to get up, turn all devices off and leave, he heard a familiar sound coming from his computer screen.

A discord call and video call at that was incoming from none other that Jacksepticeye. So, Corpse rolled forward in his chair again as he checked if his camera was turned off and covered. After reassuring himself that his face was hidden he accepted the call. "Hey whaddup?" He greeted his loud friend who immediately responded with a "Hey my man". His mismatched eyes widened as he looked at the screen, it was not only Jack on the call...they were there as well, a shy smile plastered on their face as they kept their eyes closed "Hey Corpse, tell me when your camera is off. Sean told me it might be on and I don't want you to accidentally expose yourself to me." "Oh yeah, it's off. You can open your eyes it's fine." Just as he finished his sentence their eyelids slowly fluttered open as they stared at the black screen and waved. There was no way to describe the feeling that went through him as he admired you in awe. He seemed starstruck and without thinking he blurted out "You have to visit San Diego sometime, but like soon"

Your eyes widened slightly not knowing how to respond to that "Umm...yeah I dunno, maybe someday?" Jack gasped dramatically "You never invited me over even though I'm the one you trusted enough to show your face to!"

Yet another time today, the male behind the black screen felt a blush grow on his face. "Well i-it's your fault for introducing me to your friend. And umm sorry if I was a bit too blunt there" He stuttered. "No it's fine. I'm a very spontaneous person ya know." You replied an embarrassed smile gracing your lips once more "But you could be a killer for all I know...sorry you probably hear that one a lot haha. Also, would you even be comfortable enough to meet up..." slowly you started drifting off with what you were saying. As soon as you realized you were trailing off of the topic at hand, you tried to get back to the conversation "ahem.. yeah, anyways as I was saying...someday sure. I mean...I am traveling around at the moment because I flew to Brighton. Maybe you know, we could get to know each other a bit better first" you smiled nervously as you replied.

"Ah yes...of course. Though I do have a question for you Seán. Is (Y/n) the one we spoke of a few days ago?" came back as a reply. He had a plan to gain their trust if they really were his suspected soulmate. The man next to (Y/n) nodded and gave a wink to the camera they used for the call. This action just confused you even more and it must have shown on your face because your loud friend started laughing at you. "Don't worry it was nothing bad" Jack reassured. "Hold on, is this about the random-" there was a lot of shuffling coming from the black screen. The noise had startled you a bit, causing you to stop mid sentence. "the random question about my eyes?" You continued your question, looking at that Irish friend of yours, but you didn't get a reply for there was another loud noise coming from Corpse's side of the screen. You shifted your attention back to the screen in front of you again just to be met with more shuffling and a sudden colour change of the screen. Your eyes widened as you saw a face only briefly for a split second before your vision suddenly changed. You looked around to see an unfamiliar room and as you saw the sight before your eyes you felt as though they were going to pop out of their sockets at any moment.

No...

No fucking way...

"Holy shit" you heard the words leave both your mouths. You just stared at the screen in front of you to see yourself, who apparently sat on the other side of the screen next to Seán. And you also saw the live view of a young man with black curly hair, dressed in black in a small window of the computer. You felt really dizzy all of a sudden and the light before your eyes went black briefly before returning to more used surroundings again.

Realisation dawned on you as you blinked a few times and spoke aloud "I-I just imagined that right? There's no way. C-Corpse you didn't happen to experience that right now, did-did you?"

"Holy fuck..." you heard a low mutter coming from the speakers.

Jack looked at you, eyebrows raised in confusion for a second before realization dawned on him and a knowing smirk appeared on his face as he shouted "CALLED IT!"

The two of you could not yet comprehend what was happening, let alone listen and realize what your mutual friend had to say.

After a few minutes of complete silence you tore your eyes away from the pen on Jack's desk, which had become the most interesting thing and perfect staring partner for the past minutes and shifted your gaze back to the young raven-haired individual before you, a small smile and a huge blush grazing your facial features as you spoke up, voice quiet and soft, but also full of nervousness "soo...umm...Corpse, are you gonna give me that address in San Diego?"

The question stood in the room for a few moments as silence engulfed you once again. Corpse's expression on his bright red face however, showed he was pondering."Y-yeah of course...sure...I-I'll text it to you if you give me that number of yours..." Then there was a pause. "Whe-When can I expect you then?"

This time it was your turn to think. "How about directly when you leave Brighton?" Jack chimed in. "But th-that's like in two days..." you stuttered in response. It was a nice idea and you did feel a pull to meet this handsome stranger as soon as possible. "Well yeah, that's the point is it not? I already checked for flights while you two where staring off somewhere....Sooo? Should I buy the ticket real quick? You can thank me later." Your mismatching eyes kept switching your gaze from your friend who had made this crazy suggestion and your apparent soulmate who now wore an eyepatch and was watching you expectantly while patiently awaiting your answer. A small sigh left your lips as you made your decision. When you tried to verbally answer though, your voice had left you, so you made eye-contact with the man also known as Corpse Husband, who had trusted you enough to reveal his face to you, and just gave him a small nod. He seemed to understand and gave you a reassuring smile.

"It's final then?" Seán, who had watched this whole ordeal unfold asked smiling happily as you just nodded once again "Y-yeah"

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Two days later you found yourself on yet another plane ride, but this time it was not to England, nor was its destination your home. You sat on your seat in silence, music which you couldn't concentrate on, blasting through your headphones while you  twiddled with your fingers, bouncing your leg up and down quickly. What were you gonna say? He would pick you up outside of the airport in order to avoid bumping into things when the view-switching-thing would happen.

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Meanwhile, the faceless YouTuber had finished tidying up his apartment and prepared everything for your arrival. He would be lying if he said he didn't look you up on the socials to learn more about you.

About half an hour before the plane would land he drove off to your designated meeting spot. He arrived there 10 minutes early so he could mentally prepare himself. About 5 minutes later he put on his black face mask and exited his car. At first he was gonna wait for you here, but his nerves and heart got the better of him, so he made his way closer inside the airport building to meet you halfway. What he didn't know was that your plane would land early. So, as he made his way through the people, which was way out of his comfort zone already, he started to see black dots clouding his view, but suddenly he came from the other side. Oh no. The body kept walking until he saw himself in the crowd.

Your eyes met as you tried to navigate through the crowd of people, it was hard as you had to control your own body somehow even though you could only see what your soulmate would usually see. Finally you had gotten somewhat closer to one another and as you came to a halt, your bodies mere inches apart as your eyesight returned to your own again. You looked up at the man in front of you in awe. Your eyes were fixated on his as you noticed the (e/c) in his one eye fade away, just to be replaced by this beautiful shade of brown that was in his other eye. The colour you knew so well because you had seen it in the mirror in one of your own eyes everyday. "Your eyes" you whispered. He smiled in return "yours too..it's nice to meet you (Y/n). My soulmate. You are even more dazzling in person" he complimented. "I can't say anything else besides the same applies to you" You smiled in return as your face went red. "Well then...Shall we?" he grinned as he took one of your backpacks and started walking. "Hey! Wait up!" You laughed as you ran to catch up to your soulmate...

[hollyhomburg]

Reasons Wretched And Divine (Pt. 8)

(Yoon Min Joon x Reader) (Hybrid au) (Mafia au)

Summary: After years of abuse, you’ve all finally found each other. But for one of you- the fear still lingers in hidden lies and dead bodies. Yoongi doesn’t want much, just a few more weeks. The clock ticks closer- every second he has with you bringing him closer to zero.

Tags: pregnant! Reader, Dead bodies, hybrid on hybrid violence, referenced police mistreatment/indifference, mentions of emotional/physical abuse, referenced drug use/overdosing, Angst, touch starved characters, violence, explicit sexual content, foursome, voyeurism, exhibitionism, lactation kink, pregnancy kink, Breeding kink, knotting, dirty talk, unprotected sex, unrealistic amounts of cum, cumplay, marking kink, Dom/sub undertones, Dom! Namjoon- Sub! everyone else, Cum control, Overstimulation, squirting, oral sex (f receiving), fingering (f receiving)

W/c: 20.3k~

A/n: get ready for some nasty af smut~ But also be mindful of the angsty tags. You guys are gonna hate me for the cliffhanger! 

Series Masterlist

One month after your husband's death

- Yoongi had learned when and where not to provoke his owner over the years. Yoongi hadn’t been born with the ability to hold his tongue, His biting proclivities earning him more than a few broken ribs and bloody noses in his lifetime. But no matter, his owner had trained his tongue out of him, had even threatened to cut it out on occasion.

- And yet, his personality couldn’t be measured in the same way, a simple eye roll or a huff or sigh was enough to land him in trouble. Which is why he’s in the position he’s in now; Bloody lip, another bruise likely forming under his eye and on his ribs. His head spinning from what is likely another concussion. How many could a person get before they had brain damage? Whatever the number- Yoongi was probably toeing the line or already over it.

- He’s trying to avoid more damage, which is why he sits outside of the living room of their double-wide trailer. His owner has a nicer house somewhere- but this is the place that’s always functioned as the stomping grounds for all of her illegal business. And It’s the only building that Yoongi’s ever been able to call home.

- The yellowing walls that have turned greasy with cigarette smoke over the years, as well as the thin blanket and the pillow that he uses on the couch when no ones hanging around. If they are and the house is filled with gangsters- Yoongi’s usually doomed to the floor or until they leave for the night. Only able to sleep without his back to the wall when the gangsters stop their drugging (usually methamphetamines) and intoxication (most often moonshine)

- More than one person’s overdosed on the couch that Yoongi calls his bed. He tries not to think about it when he goes to sleep. What did it matter if someone else had died here- at least Yoongi was still alive.

- Even breathes stick in Yoongi’s lungs like honey, something dammed and impure. It’s a testament to his nerves (or years of learned abuse) that he doesn’t flinch when the crashes and bangs increase from the other room. It’s just glass breaking- now gunfire- that would have Yoongi ducking and running for cover.

- Revelry like he’s used to surviving through hasn’t existed in recent months, not since the business, or lack thereof had started to seep into every moment like a slow-moving poison. Gang wars are messy and they take years to play out. But it hadn’t been until four weeks ago that his owner’s gang had suffered its first casualty. A gang couldn’t exist without its plug, and now there was a power vacuum in the underworld. And whoever controlled the supply would be the most in-demand.

- “I’ve had enough of your bullshit excuses! If you don’t find the shipment this instant I’m going to start blowing brains like bubbles” his owner screeches. A tumble and shatter sounds from the other room, probably the plate of food Yoongi took in before. Cooking was one of his only valuable skills according to his owner, and he’s spent at least a quarter of his life avoiding a beating by becoming a better cook.

- The threat doesn't bother him. Yoongi barely lets himself think about the business of the gang, the bloodstains and bodies that they’ve most definitely left in their wake. He tries not to let it bother him knowing that there will probably be more in the next few months. His only concern is making sure his body isn’t one of them.

- Yoongi doesn’t care about anything other than keeping himself alive. And even that just barely.

- He listens from outside the door, her screaming finally quieting. This isn’t the first meltdown of her’s he’s witnessed this week. He hears the rustling of papers, silence from her as whoever's on the other side of the phone speaks. “Yeah I have it, fuck- his bitch must really be moving if she already has this in the goddamn paper.” She pauses, and Yoongi hears one of the gangsters stoop to try and clean up the mess that she’s surely made, “If that’s true, I think I know the perfect person for the job- if you can even call it that.” 

- It helps that Yoongi’s not expected to speak. Sometimes, when there’s a loud enough noise, or when he sneaks out to walk the sum mile to the beach, Yoongi speaks. Just a sentence or two at a time, his voice gruff and sore after a few words. Just to make sure that he can still do it and hasn’t forgotten how. That his voice still exists hidden somewhere in his chest and his throat. Locked away like a delicate yolk- only able to be seen if you break the eggshell outside.

- “Yoongi!” his owner shrieks, and he has the good sense to hasten to a place where she can see him. He stands in the doorway and doesn’t meet her eyes. There are a few assorted gangsters here. His owner looks unhinged, her flyaway hairs sticking in front of her face, wiping away smudged lipstick and a fair amount of saliva that had dripped down her chin from all her screaming.

- “I have a job for you” She tosses a newspaper at him, and Yoongi catches it easily. Careful not to step into the mess of glass that would surely cut his feet. A drawn red circle cuts through an article on a local high school to highlight something in the purchased ads. Just a little map with a heading “hybrid sanctuary: a safe place, three meals a day. If you or anyone you know has witnessed hybrid abuse, please call this number for help.”

- Yoongi looks up, giving her a short nod. Yoongi will do whatever she needs in order to survive. Anything to keep the blood in his veins and his heart beating. 

- He listens patiently while she explains the plan.

---------- Now---------

- The clock ticks, and You don’t find the body until noon. By then there are flies buzzing around him. Blood already dried on those fingertips and underneath His fingernails- the sun warming his body like the hybrid could still be alive.

- You’re just retiring from a day working in the garden (usual and ordinary) when one of the bear hybrids thunders through your door- his eyes wide, shouting for you (strange and surprising). Yoongi is the only one with you; Jimin’s just set off down the hill to change. Namjoon’s not in the house either; helping Jin with more fencing for the animals. 

- Your grim expression is mirrored in the terse face of the teenage hybrid that had been going for a walk when he’d found him. You’d started down the hill at a run At least until Yoongi had stopped you. Eyeing your stomach with a worried expression. It’s not that you can’t run or that he doesn’t think you should it’s that the hilly path down to the front entrance is littered with potholes.

- It’s not your first time seeing a dead body (that honor is owed to your late husband) but the unnatural way a body lies still is always incredibly unnerving. You lean over the body nausea rolls in your belly worse than it ever did in the first few months you were battling your morning sickness. But you know you can’t vomit over a crime scene.

- You recognize the body, It’s one of your hybrids; a coyote hybrid that came to you after the second month you were open, and had come and gone quite a bit since then. You need to look at your ledger to know for sure if he was in-between stay or if he’d been here prior to today.

- You tend to be a little laxer with the hybrids that aren’t permanent residents of the farm. You barely even learn the names of the deer hybrids that come for a dinner or two here and there before they go. You’re used to the nomads and this hybrid was one of them. You’re kicking yourself for that now. Because if you have a killer in your mix- a shiver goes down your spine at the thought of any of them being in danger. You need to get all of your hybrids in one place to make sure they’re safe. Right now.

- You turn to yoongi and the teenager; a bear hybrid from Tae's group- Beomgyu. You recall the little details you know about him- how he likes to hang around with Yeonjun and the other cats in the kitchen sometimes. He’s so young, eyes wide, shaking his head making his curved ears flop when he finally tears his eyes away from the body and looks at your face. 

- You make your voice more soothing, “Ring the lunch bell- get everyone by the main barns okay? We need to make sure everyone is accounted for” the bear hybrid turns to run up the hill but you catch his arm. “The barns have to direct a line of sight to here- so keep the children in the far-field, after you ring the bell- get Namjoon and Taehyung and tell them to come here before you tell anyone what's happened.” The last thing you need is a group stumbling around here and contaminating a crime scene.

- He leaves with a thunder of footsteps in the dry grass, “Yoongi” you say, “Would you mind going up to the main house to get the logbook and my cellphone?” Yoongi looks like he doesn’t want to leave eyeing the road with a suspicious glare. Making a noise in his throat and staying put. “Yoongi” your voice is strangled- like you’re trying not to cry. “He’s been dead for hours, any danger here has passed, I’m safe- I promise.” but Yoongi shakes his head, reaching for your hand and then thinks better of it.

- At the sound of heavy footsteps you both look back up the hill- Namjoon racing in your direction, his ears pinned to his head with Taehyung not far behind. He gives you one final glance and nods before he takes off up the hill. Namjoon stops when they pass, calling his name but Yoongi doesn’t stop. “let him go Namjoon” you call behind.  

- The bell that they use to call people in at mealtimes tolls out across the field.

- Yoongi watches as the kits raise their heads from their playing in the field. A look at the sun telling them that it’s too early to be called in for dinner, lunch just finished. The confusion that gives way to panic as he travels through a crowd of older hybrids. He almost runs into one of the cat hybrids as she leaves the kitchen. Shouting back to her friend that’s fussing with something. “Just turn off the stove- something’s wrong we need to go.”

- Yoongi snatches the book from your small office off the living room and thunders back down the porch steps, pausing when he sees it. Anyone else might not have noticed the difference- or noticed it at all. But Yoongi used to survive by noticing the small day-to-day differences in his world; and it’s a habit that hasn’t died even though Yoongi no longer needs it to survive.

- There is a piece of paper stuck behind your windshield wipers on your car. Not a ticket and not a note- but a business card. And Yoongi knows it wasn’t there yesterday.

- Yoongi pauses, your phone in one hand, and the logbook in another. He shoves your phone in his pocket and wastes precious seconds to retrieve it. It’s simple- just plain cardstock a single sentence on the other side. “You’re welcome” there isn’t any signature beside a small doodled bunny rabbit. 

- Yoongi knows that signature. Memories dredge up from the bottom of his mind like a swell of cold water washing over him. He’d seen his old owner- (his current owner- his own internal monologue berates him) go into a rage after seeing that same moniker spray-painted across her truck or buildings on more than one occasion.

- Yoongi rolls his tongue over his teeth, putting it together. His owner’s words- dimly alluding to a second mole at the farm- warning Yoongi to be careful. And now this- a thank you card from a rival gang. Chaos whirls around him as different groups run to the barns. He hears Taehyung’s raised voice “Everyone quiet! I need you to listen to me- please!” 

- Other hushed words echo from the field as Yoongi puts it together. In a moment, Yoongi knows what’s happened- but he can’t for the life of him understand the motivation.

- What motivation could his owner’s rival have to kill their mole? And if he knew who at the farm was connected to the gang life- why didn’t he kill Yoongi last night too? This body and this note raise too many questions.

- Yoongi doesn’t think it through, just shoves the card into the bottom of his work boot, hiding it so that it lies flat under his sock. Knowing it's better to hide it then hand it over to the police. Yoongi’s hands shake with the very idea of you being caught up in this mess. Although it looks like it's already too late for that. How much less involved can you be with a dead body on your front doorstep?

- If the note is addressed to you? How much do you know about your late husband's business- if anything?

- You attribute Yoongi’s shakiness to the dead body you’re deceptively calm- nausea set aside when he gets back. yoongi nearly runs into taehyung on the way down the hill. Anger an annoyance and worry rolling off the bear hybrid in heady waves. “Don’t worry- Jimin and I have nearly everyone in the barns already, and Daehyun and Hoseok are taking care of the cubs on the other side of the field” 

- Taehyung barely looks at Yoongi as he passes, shouting at you over his shoulder. It helps to hear that Jimin is all right, but Yoongi doesn’t think he’ll believe it until he sees the other hybrid with his own two eyes. Namjoon looks much the same. Though he holds your hand tight as he can.

- You call the police the second Yoongi hands over your phone. And together- you wait for them. Namjoon sends an anxious glance both of your ways. It doesn’t take long before you can hear the sirens heading in your direction, echoing out over the empty hills.

- Back up at the barns, Jimin sits on the second floor, the windows are opened to their full capacity to let in a nonexistent breeze. The top floor of the barn isn’t really the most comfortable place to be in the middle of the day, the heat muggy, and all-encompassing. But every dog hybrid is in their bunk room. but it’s too hot to be comfortable regardless of the fans running at full power. Jimin sits on the floor dangling his feet over the side.

- Below- Jimin watches Taehyung as he does a headcount. Clipboard in hand, shouting names and waiting for people to respond. the hybrids have separated themselves by type, bunny hybrids on the outer edge, bear hybrids close to the center around Tae, Cat hybrids on the ground floor to stay out of the sun. Jimin and dog hybrids- the most easily riled up and hardest to contain because of their energy- on the top floor where they’d all stay put and not sneak off. 

- Jimin’s room has already been counted, there isn’t much left to do but wait and watch. If he looks over the hillock he can see the police cars and you. The flashing blue and red lights and a small group.

- A small crowd has gathered to watch and linger, police tape set up to the entrance of your farm. A few of your neighbors gathered too at the sound and small-town gossip is sure to follow. Your two closest neighbors- an elderly couple come over to ask you a few questions about all the commotion. They’ve never been unpleasant to you or hostile, still happy that you took their farm animals off their hands many months ago. But they remain firmly separated from your hybrids on either side of a circle of crime scene tape.

- When Jimin looks to the other side, he can see Hoseok and another dog hybrid with the children. Sequestered them with a bunch of games and ice pops on the other side of the hill, away from any and all possibility of them seeing something they shouldn’t.

- Even some of your hybrids linger around the crime scene. the leaders of various groups that need to see for themselves. Beomgyu is here too as well- even though you gave him a look that said you dont need to see this. As it is, you give the teenagers that refuse to go a questioning cross look. Yeonjun in particular just shrugs at you when you give him an expectant look. All of the teenaged hybrids are particularly used to your no-nonsense looks. It doesn’t help that he’s several inches taller than you. 

- “You really think this is the first time I’ve seen a dead body?” one of the other cat hybrids has the good sense to cuff him over the back of his head for that one. You know he’s young, but some respect for life and death is something he’ll have to learn at one point or another. If he wants to stay that bad- you’ll let him. 

- Namjoon might hate the police, but he does speak their language, and it’s easy for you to sink to his side and rely on him to take over the story as you relate everything you know (which isn’t much). The pack leaders- or what would be the pack leaders all waiting on the fringes. Taehyung comes back to tell you that there isn’t anyone but a few bunny hybrids missing- quickly sniffed out by one of the dog hybrids, all of them looking a little pink-cheeked and embarrassed from whatever they were doing.

- That gets a few laughs out of everyone that’s gathered- Taehyung shakes his head and rolls his eyes, but tempers still remain raised. From the top story of the barn, Jimin watches it unfold. Taehyung shoots him a tired look.

- A quick look at your ledger shows that the last time the hybrid left was just a little over a week ago. Your fingers hover over the date. The book is photographed by the crime scene photographers too, the camera bulbs flashing, a few of your more sensitive hybrids have to turn away- the bright flash too glaring. The officers take little notice of their discomfort.

- They tell you that they might come back to collect it for official evidence. It’s nice to have something to give the police to show them that the hybrid wasn’t in your care when he died. You have a good reputation with them because of your ex-husband as much as you hate to admit it. And it’s jarring to hear you referred to as his widow, especially with Namjoon standing so close, a protective presence between you and the police. 

- A few months ago you might have started breaking down when you heard his name, but all you have to do is look at Namjoon to know that you’re okay, you’re both safe. 

- Well maybe not now- if you have a killer in your midst then you’re all certainly not as safe as you thought.

- For all the feaux concern they have about the dead hybrid- the ones around you might as well be window dressing. They would have ignored Namjoon entirely if he hadn’t introduced himself as an ex-police hybrid.

- It’s more than that, their unconcern sinks under your skin and makes you want to shout at them as they take his body away in a black body bag. They promise you they’ll try to find whatever killed him. They don’t look too bothered- another dead hybrid isn’t anything new or a cause for panic to them, about as regular as finding any other pet- and not a fucking human being- dead or murdered.

- The police tell you they’ll do what they can- but a dead hybrid is hardly their priority, even if it makes a growl build in Namjoon’s throat when they brush off your concern. Your blood boils. 

- But as the sequestering drags on and on into the afternoon- and the temperature increases with every moment everyone still has to stay put. the idle chatter quickly turns agitated. In the main barn- A few of them have been playing cards on and off, most of them in states of undress because of the heat. Jimin is the only man still wearing his shirt, though it’s only his tank top.

- “What the fuck do you think it is? Who do you think killed them?” Jimin listens in on the other hybrid's conversation against his own violation. He’s never been close to the other dog hybrids at the farm save for Namjoon, and he’s not about to start right now. They laugh, but it sounds more like a bark- or a hyena chuckle, “you know me- if there’s an issue my money's always on the snake,”

- Jimin’s head whips around, “Excuse me?” the hybrids turn to him, “oh Jimin- we forgot we were here” if they want that insult to sting- they’re going to have to try a little harder. Jimin was used to being forgotten for the first half of his life, and that won’t start hurting now.

- Sweat drips down the back of Jimin’s neck, “he has a name you know,” he says with no real venom. it’s greeted with resounding scoffs from a few of his bunkmates. He lets the silence sit for a moment before the weight of it grows too oppressive for him to handle, “What?” he says feeling like he’s missing something. The rest of the hybrids in the bunk room fall quiet.

- The dog hybrid- Taeyong- Jimin’s brain reminds him, snickers. “Nothing- just- figures you’d be possessive of him after yesterday.” A flush of heat hits Jimin’s cheeks that has nothing to do with the temperature of the room. Someone must have seen Yoongi leave the showers and then seen Jimin leave a short minute later looking sex dazed. He knows the meeting had left his scent all smelling like honey arousal. They must have put two and two together.

- Damn those bunny hybrids with their sensitive noses. Now that Jimin thinks about it- Taeyong is a friend of one of them- a small little rabbit called Jihan.

- Jimin shrugs it off because fuck them- he is protective of Yoongi and this conversation only shows the reason for that. But they don’t leave it at that- not at all. Taeyong taps his foot against the floor, grinning and showing the edge of a sharp incisor “Being with him will only end you in an early grave you know, but you might as well keep your head down and enjoy your one-way ticket to living up at the big house.” 

- “That’s not why I’m- we’re not-“ he doesn’t know what to say, he can’t say that he’s with Yoongi- not officially, not yet. And though there is something with them. Jimin doesn’t know how to put a name to it. let alone how to put a name to what he has with all of you. 

- There must be something written on his face, because the hybrid sits back, satisfied that he’s hit Jimin with something that can stick. The other hybrids snicker. A fair few turn away- sensing the fight that’s about to develop, content to stay out of it.

- “You know he doesn’t deserve to be up at the big house right,” Jimin can’t stop himself from getting angry at the calloused way they talk about Yoongi. His temper rising with the heat, Jimin has never been good at holding his tongue, and maybe it’s his fault that things happen the way they do. Jimin rises, and so does Taeyong, Suddenly chest to chest, “well if he doesn’t deserve it- you certainly don’t, maybe if you guys were just kind for once in your life you’d be staying up there too.” Jimin barks.

- A few other hybrids blanch, and more turn away, Jimin’s misspoke- can judge by the silence that he’s the one being judged. “And I actually happen to enjoy their company- I’m not-”

- Jimin knows what he’s just insinuated, that being loved is just a correlation of being kind and pleasant to be around. (You’ve been talking through that particular thing with him. The fawn response to abuse. And Jimin knows he should unpack that later, but like many other things- it just slips out. His post-traumatic stress disorder makes him think things he knows are wrong. He doesn’t believe the words he says, not really.)

- Taeyong steps forwards, and Jimin shrinks back sudden bravery forgotten. “You’re not what? Being a manipulative little puppy? Batting your eyes at them so that you could get a spot? Go tell that lie to someone who believes you. You might be a puppy, but you’re a snake to your core.” 

- Jimin has never wanted Taehyung to be there more than now. Where is he when he needs him? Jimin looks back through the open window, but Taehyung isn’t below them on the patio. Their fight seems to have gotten more than a little attention. Wide eyes upturned, startled by the sound of raised voices. It's the wrong moment to look away because suddenly Jimin’s reeling from a shove, two hands on either shoulder. 

- Jimin catches himself on the window frame. The open space taunting and frightening. All at once, the image hits him; another well-placed shove- Jimin falling- cracking against the slate patio outside where you usually set up dinner, the ground hard and unforgiving. Bones breaking. 

- Jimin isn’t sure why he says it; “No wonder why you haven’t got adopted if this is how you act when someone disagrees with you.”

- Jimin’s never fallen from any height before. But he’s been tossed and pushed and shoved, and never learned how to fight back. He freezes now at the memory of it. He’s been shoved into concrete before, and he bets slate hurts just as much.

- “Don’t pretend like you haven’t had your eyes set on the big house since you first got here puppy, little thing like you probably just wants to be owned- how do you even have an ounce of self-“ 

- Jimin gets shoved again, and he barely manages to hold his ground. Taeyong grips his shirt in both his fists, lifting Jimin up so that he struggles to keep his feet on the ground. 

- From below, he hears a shriek, His name shouted from your mouth. You run as fast as you can, Yoongi stayed behind to help you. His face turned up imploring at Jimin. Jimin hears the thud of Namjoon’s feet on the wooden floor below. He and Taehyung, as they take the stairs two at a time. Jimin doesn’t know how they knew to come, or how suddenly everything’s escalated.

- The other hybrid steps forward, and there is nowhere left for him to go, Jimin grips the window frame, and tries not to let go.

- Namjoon’s words can barely be made out around the growl, suddenly in the doorway. Jimin keeps his eyes on the hybrid in front of him. Not at Namjoon’s face, screwed tight with anger. “Enough, step away from him.”

- Namjoon looks more threatening than Jimin’s ever seen him, teeth bared, ready to attack. His curved ears quivering as Namjoon seems to swell in the doorway, his eyes shiny and reflective in the half-light. An alpha ready to protect his own. The scars that crisscross his face a reminder of the lengths he’s willing to go to protect his family.

- A sheepish looking Taehyung toes the line behind him, “I’m sorry- I heard the beginning outside the door and went to get them” Jimin is at once thankful for Taehyung and a little angry- because really? He couldn’t be bothered to just intervene then? Taeyong seems to think for a moment before he lets Jimin go. Jimin sees Namjoon’s hands tighten into fists by his side. The threat of what he might have tried to do dissipating. You rush forward with Yoongi, pulling Jimin out of the doorway.

- More than one hybrid in the room jerks when you get too close to the window. They can’t help it- for many of them, you’re the only human they’ve had a positive relationship with. And the dog hybrids are nothing if not a loyal bunch. Which is probably why Taeyong shrinks back, nostrils flared- still angry and feeling threatened. like a cornered animal. 

- Jimin tries not to run back to Namjoon’s side- but it's hard, especially when he makes eye contact with Yoongi. Your chest heaving blinking away tears as You pull Jimin to you easily, a hand on his cheek. Eyes so worried, searching his face and his frame for even a hint of damage. The words are out of his mouth before he even has a chance “I’m okay- it’s okay- I’m fine.”

- “It wasn’t my fault, Jimin started it” you look up, and Jimin can tell from the tilt of your eyes that you don’t believe them for a second, your voice is shaky when you speak, so quiet. and jimin wonders- how many other times you’d spoken up like this in your past against your ex-husband and gotten hurt for it. It takes no small amount of bravery for you to speak now and Jimin’s arms tighten protectively around you. 

- “This isn’t- this isn’t how you treat another person Taeyong even if he did start it- you don’t react with violence.” one of the other hybrids shakes his head at Taeyong- but he doesn't react well to your words. Bearing his teeth at you and it takes every ounce of self-control for your three hybrids not to jump in front of you at such an obvious display of aggression. 

- “He shoved me first” Taeyong lies, and Namjoon answers it with a growl. stepping up to go chest to chest with him in much the same way that Jimin had just minutes before. The other dog hybrid crumbles against the alphas stare. “Would you like to repeat that? or do you maybe want to tell the truth this time?”

- You pull Jimin behind you and Namjoon steps between you and the other hybrids, looming and large in the small space. “If I hear that you're causing any more trouble you’ll be out on your ass faster than you can say “it wasn’t my fault” Namjoon barks, turns, both you and he have a hand on Jimin’s trembling shoulders. When did they start shaking?

- A sudden hush has settled over the hybrids, everyone is here to witness it. And it doesn’t make sense until they hear a set of quiet footsteps at the door. “Is everything alright miss?” the police officer says in the doorway, suspiciously eyeing the hybrids. His hand hovering dangerously close to the gun in his holster. The fucking police- Jimin had almost forgotten they were here.

- You don’t look shaken, stepping back to be between him and your hybrids, and the police officers' shoulders relax. You’re so disarming- Jimin barely sees you shake even though he can smell the distress rolling off of you in waves. Turning your usual scent all muddy. Your smile is strained, “No officer- everyone’s just a little bit high strung right now I think. We’re fine.” 

- “Sorry for that distraction, we can continue up to the main house if you’d like. After you.” You set back off down the steps and Jimin knows what you’re doing- keeping the police officer away from them because you know how twitchy the cops make most of the hybrids. “No thank you- I dont think that will be necessary. As your k-9 unit specified earlier in his interview the crime scene is mostly contained in the driveway. I think we’ve seen enough.”

- Jimin can’t help but stumble to Namjoon’s side, pressed tight under the arm of his alpha. Namjoon’s disarmed by Jimin's sudden need for affection; for his alpha all around him. “We’ll talk about this later” Taehyung glowers at the other hybrids and they all fall silent. Namjoon’s ire- they might be a little more used to but Taehyung’s anger is used a little more sparingly. The four of them, Yoongi, Namjoon, Jimin, and Taehyung the unlikely fourth turn to leave.

- You’re already in the lower level of the barn when Taeyong speaks, his voice low to keep it out of earshot from you. “Sure thing pet,” Taeyong says under his breath- though really what was he trying to do? Everyone here had above average hearing- so really, his whispered insults whereas good as speaking at normal volume.

- And to a hybrid- being called a pet is the ultimate insult.

- Namjoon freezes in the doorway, no matter that Jimin’s hand pulls at the arm of his long-sleeved shirt. A whine building for him to just leave it alone. Namjoon turns, jabbing his finger at Taeyong. “I want you gone before sundown tomorrow.” 

- The four of them head down the stairs, leaving the silent room. The ground floor of the largest barn the area is flush with activity. With hybrids going every which way you must have decided that it was okay for everyone to return to their days as normal. Someone calls Taehyung’s name, asking for his help with something before he’s even fully down the narrow steps, Taehyung sends Jimin a single discerning look before he leaves. Namjoon utters a soft thank you to him as he slips away.

- In the grass- you share one final word with the police officer, shaking his hand with one hand resting on your baby bump. Though Jimin can tell from the way you hold yourself it's the last thing you want to do. He nods at Namjoon once as they approach and heads off down the hill. You’re quiet for a moment, going to hold jimin’s hand while Namjoon and Yoongi mill. None of you are sure what to do next.

- “I’m assuming Taeyong won’t be a problem anymore?” Namjoon has the good sense to look a little abashed at that. “He said- there was- he’ll be gone by tomorrow afternoon.” Is all he says, and you nod, giving a sad look back to the barns. But you don’t counter what Namjoon’s said.

- And while Jimin knows there needs to be some sort of order here- it still seems a little extreme. Even if the threat of bodily harm was there- he didn’t actually do anything. It seems a little severe to throw them out for just a couple of words, and a shove. He tells Namjoon this much as they walk up the footpath to the main house.

- You whip your head around, looking stricken, and Jimin have to struggle not to flinch back, you look almost angry with yourself for the sudden movement. all of you are a little on edge. “He almost hurt you Jimin! he was about to-“ Yoongi fists a hand in the back of Jimin’s shirt, “if he’d hurt you I don’t know what I’d-“ you break off, and Jimin sees you sigh and the breath sounds all rickety like there's something else rattling around in your lungs. You shake your head and hold onto his hand tighter.

- Jimin sucks on his lower lip and keeps walking towards the main house after a moment. And he can’t help feeling like he was the one who kind of did start it. A hand on your arm to help you up the steps. You’re getting more and more pregnant every day, and your baby bump has become more of a mound than the small bulge you had when Jimin first came.

- Jimin just wants to make sure you don’t wobble or trip. Unable to shake the feeling that the reason why Namjoon had punished the others was because of how they’d treated Jimin- and not because of any rules.

- Jimin’s gotten to know you and Namjoon pretty well over the last few months, but the way Namjoon keeps his head down, playing with his hands, makes him look younger and more open than he’s ever been around Jimin. Namjoon and Jimin linger just inside your house. standing quietly- letting their tempers fade.  

- The cat hybrids have already started dinner, the clamor familiar and comforting. One of them hears you come in and calls your name; Yoongi is close behind, he doesn’t look at Jimin. And Jimin smells his scent- his fluffy marshmallow goodness twined with a hint of something burn and feels the guilt clinging to him like bad perfume. He’s about to head after him when Namjoon grabs his shoulder. “Should I- you’re going to stay up here right?”

- Jimin sucks on his lower lip. and even he has to admit that staying up here tonight is a more attractive offer than returning to the barns anytime soon. “Yes- if you want me too” Namjoon nods, looks shy, but Jimin can tell what he’s feeling through his scent. The worry makes the pine strong and musky and tempts Jimin to curl up in it. Namjoon couldn’t tolerate being separated from any of his pack right now; not with the danger of a killer on the loose. Namjoon tugs him in the direction of the stairs. “There’s something I want to show you then.”

- The last time he’d been up on the more private floor of your house he hadn’t really had any time to explore. Namjoon leads him to one of the unknown and previously unopened doors that line the long hallway between your master suite and the stairs, pointing out Yoongi’s room as they go. The room is small and more than a little dusty. But it’s the closest unoccupied room to the master suite and across the hall from Yoongi’s. “Oh” Jimin realizes as it clicks, “you meant stay- as in move in stay.”

- Namjoon has to kick away boxes of Christmas decorations to get to the queen covered with a white sheet that fluffs with dust when he pulls away. Jimin touches the edge softly. He’s never had a bed so big all to himself before- he doesn’t know how he’s going to handle so much vacant space next to him.

- There will be no soft sounds of sleep and rising chests when Jimin wakes in the middle of the night. Only the sounds of the house, and even though this means he’ll get to spend more time with you, Namjoon, and Yoongi, the room can’t help but feel lonely. Something in his chest reminds him that he’s not really that far, Yoongi’s room is across the hall, and yours just a few steps after that.

- Maybe he won’t feel so lonely after all.

- The windows are covered with thick drapes, kind of small in themselves. And it makes the room feel darker and cold. “We’ll move out the decorations to the attic tomorrow, are you gonna be okay with this for tonight? We can get you some fresh sheets and blankets.”

-  Jimin nods hands tugging back the curtains to let more light in. Namjoon reaches around him to crack it open when the window sticks. Even though this room doesn’t feel like his yet. Namjoon almost drops a box of decorations “you could also sleep in our room if you want?”

- Jimin can’t do much more than just blush and nod, stuttering out that he’ll decide later. And it’s not that he doesn’t want to be all snuggled close between you and Namjoon it’s just that- things are happening a little too fast. Jimin feels like he might need a night to just decompress.

- The body, the police, the fight, and Jimin almost falling through the window. For some reason, Jimin feels paralyzed in that doorway. On one hand, he’s happy that he has a room here now that he doesn’t have to go back to the bunk room for more than his clothes, and on the other hand he’s sure he doesn’t deserve it.

- Like Namjoon can sense he’s overwhelmed and doesn’t know how to feel, he pulls Jimin to follow him. Gentle orders that tell Jimin what to do with his body and give his mind a second to catch up. Namjoon retrieves fresh linens and a big fluffy blanket from the closet while Jimin hovers hugging a pillow to his chest. 

- The elder prattles along to Jimin about getting him some more things to fill the room like a dresser when Jimin notices it. A small narrow door that’s mostly glass down the hall from your master bedroom and the bathroom that Jimin assumes he’ll share with Yoongi.

- Unless Yoongi has a bathroom in his room. Jimin asks Namjoon- who tells Jimin that he does and Jimin pouts. He has to admit he wouldn’t mind Sharing a bathroom with Yoongi. Flashbacks of that night, of Yoongi’s skin, pressed close to his underneath the deluge of water- consume him for a moment at the thought of that. 

- Before he pads over to see the other room at the end of the hallway. It’s narrow, only the with of the couch at the end and twice as long, Jimin could probably touch both walls if he lied down on the floor Waist height windows ring the outside of the room and a few skylights cast square shadows on the floor, The roof slanted down at one edge.

- A single potted plant sits on the waist-high shelf- crusty and brown from no one watering it. He orients himself in the house to figure out what room is below him but the smells and sounds drifting up from the floor tells him he’s somewhere above the kitchens.

- He stands in the doorway. A thick layer of dust sits on everything. But the light is amazing. All golden in the afternoon haze though that might just be the walls. The light yellow paint is faded, cracked a bit by the doorway but it's nothing a fresh coat couldn’t fix.

- Jimin knows the second he sees it that he wants it.

- Namjoon finds him standing in the doorway. Already looking out the windows- he can see the gardens from here and the woods that stretch beyond. And the edge of a falling-down barn yet to be restored by you and Namjoon- and a tiny sliver of the river. “What- what is this?” Jimin’s voice is so hushed. So quiet, like he’s worried about disturbing the dust.

- Namjoon comes up close behind him, putting his arm around Jimin’s shoulders. “It’s a sunroom.” Namjoon clarifies. In the afternoon light, Namjoon’s skin looks honeyed and golden, horizontal shafts of light stretching across his face. Namjoon pulls Jimin close, nose running along his hairline and near his ears, nuzzling into them. His back the perfect place for Jimin to rest his heavy shoulders. 

- “Is it okay if I- can I stay here and not the other room?” Namjoon’s smile is reassuring and gentle, “probably, but let's ask.” Of course, Namjoon would know Jimin needed explicit permission right now- needs the sureness of a yes or no from you.

- The sight that awaits Namjoon and Jimin in the living room is one that warms both of their hearts. You and Yoongi sitting side by side in front of the television. you’re listing into Yoongi sleepily head on his shoulder. Your eyes fluttering against your cheek adorably. Yoongi sends Namjoon a panicked look which means “please save me from her she’s being needy” but at least Yoongi isn’t shaking and going all panicky.

- With a word from Namjoon you wake, sitting up straight and yawning, taking in Jimin hovering on the steps, your smile sleepy and a little dopy. Your eyes still half-closed still looking soft and an inch from resting as you need.

- Namjoon’s hand rubs up and down your swollen exposed ankle. His voice honeyed like he doesn’t really want to wake you up. Hell Jimin would carry you up the stairs to let you rest in your own bed and not the couch even though it's barely 5 pm. It's been a long day for all of you. 

- “Hey, can Jimin take the sunroom instead of the other room?” Yoongi gives a little surprised noise, eyebrows lifting in question, you seem to share his confusion. Jimin realizes that you must have already talked about which room would be his, and whole new warmth floods him. “Are you sure? That room’s a little small.”

- “I’d like to stay in there if you’ll let me- I mean- I can go back to the barns too” maybe he’d go to the girl side this time- he’s sure they wouldn’t be nearly as bad as the male hybrids. Namjoon and Yoongi look upset that he’d even try to suggest that. “Take the sunroom Jiminie,” you say, Namjoon and Jimin watch as Yoongi’s hands shake when he reaches forward before he slowly draws his hands through your hair, and you arch into he touch. If you were a hybrid Jimin thinks you’d be purring.

- Namjoon does actually end up carrying you upstairs, despite your protests that you could do it yourself. Yoongi makes a noise in the back of his throat, and Jimin finishes it for him saying, “we’ll make dinner, you should rest.” Namjoon pauses on the lower step with you in his arms, and Jimin feels something in him settle. There isn’t a little bit of you that doesn’t want him to stay here, the way you so easily give up space for Jimin to be accepted into your routine- your home.

- It’s good; it feels good to knock shoulders with Yoongi in the kitchen, the craziness of the day calmed as the cat hybrids bring the food down to the barns for everyone. 

- Taehyung stops by briefly to have a word with Namjoon- telling the elder that they have a rotating watch figured out for tonight to make sure nothing else happens. Taehyung empties out with the other cats, leaving just Jimin and Yoongi. It’s harder than it should be, but Yoongi instructs Jimin on how to do the chopping with a careful and slow demonstration while he starts on the stew.

- When Namjoon reappears a few minutes later he puts on the radio- switching it to something a little bit more his style, not kitschy pop or idealistic  questionable country music, though Jimin doesn’t like it at first listen, he hears Yoongi humming along and figures- it’s enough to have them enjoy it. Especially to see Namjoon try and fail to shake his ass. 

- The night gets even better when Jimin goes to get you from your bed, calling your name so you wake up with barely a huff as you blink at him. You look so soft Jimin can’t resist it, leaning forward to peck a kiss on your forehead. 

- You eat dinner on the porch, and the night gets better with every moment. every second Jimin realizes that he always should have been here. The love filling Jimin up just like the fresh bread and Yoongi’s stew, Namjoon and Jimin go inside halfway through the dinner to get blankets for you and Yoongi.

- Dinner reinvigorates you four, and though Jimin protests “I can just sleep in the other room tonight it’s really not a big deal” Namjoon and Yoongi shake their heads at him, though you're left out since you really can’t lift anything. 

- After dinner Namjoon, Yoongi, and Jimin pull down the attic stairs from the hallway, and go up to the third floor to find a bed that will fit in the sunroom. You shout and pull yoongi out of the way when Namjoon and Jimin lose their grip and the soft mattress clangs down the stairs, sliding with a soft thump. They’re more careful with the box spring.

- They shout and huff with joyful frustration when the couch gets stuck in the doorway of the sunroom. The kind of happiness that comes with a problem that you can fix- and like who you fix it with. And finally, when you fit the double bed into the space it just barely fits. You set the bed up with pillows and sheets asking Jimin again and again if he really doesn’t mind just the single bed while Namjoon and Yoongi put the green velvet couch outside in the hallway nook, just across from the bathroom.

- The first morning Jimin wakes in the sunroom is the most peaceful morning he’s ever gotten. The light comes in so early that it’s hard for him to sleep past sunrise. From all the way up here, he can see the way that the dew on the grass makes the whole field sway and sparkle like the ocean. He taps his toes against the wall as he sits up and looks out, and hears a knock at his door. A soft rap on the glass. 

- The sounds he hears below say he’s not the only one awake in the house. And still, the sight of you in your extra-large sleeping clothes and your robe makes him surprised. Though the tangled mess of your hair says you’re barely awake. Jimin slept so well that his ears hang nearly in front of his eyes, soft little floppy things that you push out of the way, Pushing back his wild hair as you do it. You have two cups of hot coffee in your hands. One, which you sit on the shelf that rings the room, and the other that you press into his hands, the warm ceramic a welcomed weight.

- Jimin helps you sit, a hand on your lower back to ease the ache. Without really thinking he guides you to sit back against his chest. It’s quiet and it’s lovely. And Jimin trails his nose down your shoulder and holds you loosely around your waist. “I forgot how nice this room is.” You say after your cup is halfway gone, Jimin’s cheek rested against your shoulder.

- “It’s so bright- I love it.” when Jimin closes his eyes he can still see the dark garage where he used to sleep- was it barely 4 months ago? Is he okay now? Is it okay to hope? Can he really count on things to be okay? To count that they won’t get bad again?

- With you in his arms, Jimin feels like it’s okay to hope for more good things.

- It feels like the right time to say it, the light spilling into the little yellow room, his tail thumping against the bed. The soft comforter that you picked out for him last night encircling you both like a halo. 

- The words are gentle, and they’re the truest Jimin’s ever said, “I love you” you smile over the edge of your coffee cup, lips soft and pink like two bright petals, happy little flowers like happy moments blooming with frequency. Every soft thing that Jimin’s ever wanted or dreamed of. Every way you could love a person- that's the way that Jimin loves you. And it feels like an unbreakable promise when you smile up at him. “I love you too Minnie.”

- And that’s how it happens. He says it again over breakfast and Namjoon barely lifts his eyebrows in wonder. But his tail betrays his attention, His tail kicking up a happy rhythm. Now that he’s said it- he feels like he doesn’t want to stop. 

- Yoongi pays the revelation a little more attention, making prolonged eye contact with jimin and stumbling around the kitchen half asleep like usual. But isn’t Yoongi the one who had taught Jimin how to love like this? That love is not really about saying it- but showing it. Yoongi- who he’s still never heard speak. and Somehow it doesn’t bother Jimin as much anymore.

- The next morning goes much like that- as does the next and the next. You spend the late nights all cuddled up together on the couches watching movies or sometimes you’ll retire to your small study room on the first floor to do some work- typing away on your computer. Calculating monthly costs, balancing your budget, submitting your paperwork on time to get funding from the state- the endless budgeting.

- Sometimes Yoongi helps, and you dictate numbers while he adds them up. Namjoon and Jimin sit on opposite ends of the couch, Jimin’s feet in Namjoon’s lap. And Jimin gets to watch the way Namjoon looks at you and Yoongi. “You really love them don’t you?” Jimin asks, worried about sounding jealous, but how could he really be jealous of that? Namjoon’s dimples are the most beautiful thing- Namjoon is the most beautiful thing when he’s happy. He nods shyly on the other edge of the couch. “Yes, so come here.”

- The aborted whine that tones out is enough to grab Yoongi’s attention when Namjoon clutches Jimin to his chest. The snake hybrid’s head appearing over the edge of the couch. The huffing sound that all of you associate with Yoongi’s laugh makes Jimin blush as Namjoon curls a strong arm around his waist. A deep rumbling in his chest similar to a purr as Jimin settles there. He can hear Namjoon’s heartbeat and ends up falling asleep to it.  

- Other evenings you’ll make smoothies with them or root beer floats, teasing Yoongi for the foam on his upper lip. Jimin finds himself sinking into this easy happiness. Now when he wakes up in the morning. He doesn’t have the ire of the others to contend with. Though he makes sure to keep up his friendships. 

- he follows Taehyung around more often now that he sees the four of you every waking moment. Taehyung and Jimin spend a few days together helping Seokjin and Hoseok clean out one of the unused barns together.

- He comes upon the two of them; that is Hoseok and Seokjin, sitting in the grass one day. The older hybrids hand laced in Hoseok’s curly hair. Taehyung murmurs to Jimin that they should just make it official already.

- He’d caught Hoseok sneaking out of the barns to head to Seokjin’s room more than once when he still lived in with the others. Since Seokjin is the only hybrid besides your little group that doesn’t stay in one of the main barns. And there were only so many places that Hoseok could be trying to go at that hour.

- They do make it official - though it takes a few days.

- It was early morning- just after breakfast and the three of you’d been buzzing with happy energy, Namjoon already half of the way out the door. Almost crashing into them where they’d waited unsure on your porch. “oh! Jin hyung! Hobi hyung!”

- Your morning plans for the usual gardening had been put on pause, Seokjin and Hoseok sitting hand in hand at the prep table while your hybrids try not to listen in. Namjoon doesn’t even bother - just stands behind you and rubs your shoulders while you listen. Their hands bound over the top of the table.

- “We’d do all of the work ourselves, and you know I wouldn’t ask you for any money for it- we want to do it on our own” Jin smiles, and you’ve never seen such a gently happy expression on his face. Next to him- the otter sits closer. Looking up at Jin like there isn’t anything more precious than he could hold in his hands. And while their love hadn’t completely escaped your notice- this is still a surprise.

- Seokjin makes a fair amount of money selling his yarns and other knitted goods from the alpacas and the sheep. You’d always been firm that he should keep the money he makes from it for himself and not give it to you to put into the farm. The same way you let the bear hybrids keep the money they make from harvesting the honey. You don’t own them- they’re their own people.

- One of the first things that Seokjin had bought with his money was a cellphone, and he and Hoseok excitedly show you ideas for tiny homes on Pinterest, boards of colorful little new England style cabins, loft beds, and micro-fridges. “We already have one in mind- you know the little cabin by the river?”

- Namjoon pipes up “you mean the old chicken coop? We can build you something nicer- the roof of that one is shot though- you’ll need an extra hand,” you look at their plans, careful doodles, and color swatches, nodding. “we’ll help you, of course, we’ll help you both.”

- And that’s how Seokjin and Hoseok had started work on their home. A separate place away from the rest of the farm for just the two of them to get some privacy. Though it's still on your property; neither of them has any sort of desire to ever leave the farm or each other now that they’ve found their mate.

- The house isn’t more than 200 square feet. And the roof does need a fair bit of work. But it’s not just a chicken coop like Namjoon had said, it’s got nice bones and a good foundation. It’s close enough to the animal barns where Seokjin will still be able to check on the animals every morning, but closer to the river.

- You don’t realize the significance of this until you’re helping them one day, Namjoon, Yoongi making quick work of some loose floorboards and the one wall that needs to be replaced. While Jimin and hoseok watch on- deemed a little too clumsy to help with some of the work. They look for wood-burning stoves on craigslist and other things that they’ll need to make the house complete. 

- Seokjin takes a moment, coming to your side to get some of your offered lemonade, his hair tied back with a bandana. Sipping at it as he looks at Hoseok and Jimin. their feet dangling over the edge of the streambed. “He finds it calming- he can’t sleep without the ocean. That’s how I first noticed him- I caught him sneaking out one night just to listen to the running water.” Seokjin had confessed to you, watching Jimin and hoseok giggle at paint names as they flip through a color swatch book. A far cry away from how they’d once been. 

- This little cabin is certainly close enough, a mere ten feet from the shore of the stream. And with all the windows open you can hear the babbling brook and the sound of the birds in the forest. Before they retire to Seokjin’s room above the stables. Both Hoseok and Seokjin stand in the cabin, taking their shoes off to feel the floor below them and think- this is it- this is our home. Holding each other close while they listen. Even if it will take another few months to get it truly in livable condition- to set the walls with insulation and electricity. This will be their home.

- But first, they cleaned it out. The whole bottom floor filled with dusty jam jars and weird bottles that Seokjin thinks must have been for moonshine. The next day- Jimin finds a few of the glass bottles have made the way into his new room. As Namjoon struggles to put together his new dresser, and Yoongi takes It over after Namjoon lets out his 5th frustrated sigh. They’re cleaned and polished, a small little rainbow of glass, filled with water and flowers that you pick with Jimin. 

- Every morning you bring him coffee in his room. And it slowly progresses from there, sometimes you just leave it and let him sleep. Other mornings. Jimin gets to wake up with you in his arms. Watching him or cuddling him close. He Wakes to a press of lips against his forehead and your hands in his hair. 

- His body always knows before he wakes. He’ll wake to find himself nuzzled close, or pulling you closer with greedy hands. He feels greedy with you now that he can have you every morning, though Namjoon gets the evenings. 

- And when he falls asleep at night his sheets smell like you, like peaches and cream. And then one morning he wakes pressed chest to chest with you. Your baby bump taking up significant space on Jimin’s tiny bed. And without thinking, He tilts his face forward. Kissing you softly and simply. Pulling away, whispering good morning. The pink in your cheeks says you’re shocked, but you pick up like it’s nothing The same way you took his confession.

- Kissing you is nothing like kissing Yoongi- at least not at first. It starts slow- just the simple press of softness against softness, lip to lip, and breath to breath. Until Jimin gets the hot feeling in his mouth and both of you open your lips and start to get a little lost in each other.

- The kind of kiss that makes Jimin want to reach out and hold onto you and never ever let you leave this bed. The kind of kiss that takes both of you apart gently and slowly and so carefully. Has him growing hard in his pants more than once. But you’re both shy- both so scared of pushing this any farther before the timing is right.

- Sometimes, Jimin will wake to you in his bed and Namjoon smiling softly at both of you from the door. “You know- you could always just sleep in our bed.” and Jimin knows that Namjoon might be just the tiniest bit jealous. Jimin has been stealing you away in the mornings after all- and it must be hard for him not to snuggle his mate every goddamn day especially with how soft and needy you smell. It’s so hard to leave the bed some days.

- There are more kisses after that before you go up to bed at night. Yoongi and Namjoon stretched out on the couch, Namjoon prattling on about how inaccurate a movie is while Yoongi indulges him and nods along. You kiss Jimin on the steps, winding your arms around his neck so sweetly, Yoongi wolf whistles and Namjoon chortles, “get a room!”

- But when Jimin looks over Namjoon just winks at him, and keeps talking. Like it’s nothing to kiss you so sweetly and normal to do it in front of them. There are no secrets between the four of you. Maybe there are things that are left unsaid and uncommunicated- but there are no secrets. 

- And that’s how Jimin first starts to fall into you. Easy and simple, like kisses and coffee in the morning. And Jimin loves everyone. Loves you so much sometimes it feels like his heart is going to break with it all.

- Jimin wishes his wanting stopped with the kisses, but it doesn’t, if anything it only grows. An ache in his jaw that wants to bite and consume like that moment with the kisses and Yoongi- he wants to kiss you deeper and deeper but it never ends up going that way. Not even when your bare thighs brush him in the morning and Jimin can tell you’re only wearing underwear underneath the shirt that smells so much like Namjoon.

- Jimin smells you on Namjoon, smells Namjoon on you, and wants and wants and wants. It’s worse on the mornings that you’re a little late coming to Jimin’s bed, and on the ones where you come in smelling undeniably like Yoongi too. And Jimin can’t fathom what it means and isn’t brave enough to ask.

- He asks Taehyung what it could mean- confessing it all in a rush one afternoon while they process some of the honey. Heating up the wax in the kitchen. Tae just laughs at him. “Are you sure they’re not all together? I mean- they are your pack Jiminie and he’s lived there longer than you have.” Yoongi has lived in your home longer. And it stands to reason if you and Namjoon have invited Jimin to your bed, that you might have invited Yoongi too.

- But Jimin doesn’t know for sure until one morning he wakes restless, his bed vacant. He can hear soft steps in your room. But when he peers down the hall, he’s shocked to find Yoongi softly closing the door behind him. His hair looks a little ruffled, his pajama pants hanging low on his hips as he slinks off to his own bedroom.

- You’re not the only one bed-hopping. And Jimin thinks about what it might mean. Yoongi hasn’t come to Jimin’s room. And he thinks back to the way Yoongi kissed him like it was the best and the worst, the sweetest but most forbidden thing. Maybe he’s just too nervous.

- Yoongi stays up late with Jimin, and they can both hear and smell the arousal that shoots down the stairs from both of you. Jimin has smelt it more than once by now, on you or on the air that bacons them- as members of the same pack to the same place. Jimin wonders how Yoongi handles it. Because it has Jimin growing half hard in his pajama pants, shifting on the couch needy. Yoongi’s too from the looks of it- but the snake never makes a move. Your moans echo from upstairs, their sensitive hybrid ears can hear every word that you share. And Jimin can almost taste you on the air.

- Namjoon’s gentle teasing growl is faint as is his words, “do you want them to hear you, my love? is that why you’re being so loud?- or is this” Namjoon pauses, and a wet sound fills the silence, “just too much for you?” 

- At night, when you’re not there, Jimin bites the pillow and lets his own hands wander. Feels guilty and not guilty at all when you end up in bed with him the next morning, and he licks at the hickeys on your neck left there by Namjoon’s mouth, tasting his alpha on your skin and on your lips. 

- Jimin goes to bed one evening alone, and lies listless for a moment before he realizes how much he wants to fall asleep next to you too- Namjoon too. How many times had Namjoon invited Jimin to stay in your room? How many times had he woken up to you by now? He knows the other room isn’t off limits and right now. His body shivers with need, for touches and touches, any that you’d give him. He tells himself he’s just looking for a goodnight kiss as he gets up and walks to your door, the house quiet so late in the evening.

- It shouldn’t feel so tremulous when Jimin walks to your room, to see the warm yellow light leaking through the door. Already cracked and open a few inches letting the noise of you and Namjoon spill out. The giggles he can hear, your voice, sounding the way you do when you smile. And then, a bitten-off moan.

- Jimin can’t stop himself from looking through the crack in the door- even though he knows it’s a private moment, that he really shouldn’t. You’re sitting in-between Namjoon’s legs on the edge of the bed. Jimin’s alphas mouth is firmly attached to your neck, licking and biting and sucking in a way that has Jimin riveted.

- But what really grabs his better judgment by the balls is the way that he can see the silhouette of your body through the large white shirt of Namjoon’s. The shirt so thin and well worn that jimin can see the shadow of your nipples and the hard outline that Namjoon’s hands smooth over, teasing them to a stiff peak. it has Jimin’s mouth-watering. Namjoon’s deep voice crooning as his hands pull at the hem over your baby bump, “let me see you, darling.”

- You’d complained to Jimin the other day that this far into your pregnancy none of your clothes were fitting comfortably anymore, and he can see the supple swell of your stomach and the generous curves of your body. Jimin can’t help but drink in, and stare at hungrily, swallowing thickly. A low whine of want building in his throat.

- He knows it’s wrong to be jealous, but he can’t help it. The feeling growing in his gut as he watches Namjoon pull you back to bed despite your protests. Namjoon looks deliciously good too; miles of his golden skin on display, his rippling thigh muscles exposed. Hair sleep or sex ruffled (Jimin can’t tell the difference)

- “Love I have to pee” you whine, Namjoon’s arms still ensnare your waist and he answers only with a playful growl as he hides his head in your shoulder. His hands roaming those curves like Jimin dreams of doing, Namjoon’s tail thudding against the plush comforter.

- You sigh, your head tilted up, one of your arms back behind you to tug at Namjoon’s hair, swollen pink lips parting in a sigh. He shouldn’t be watching this- this isn’t meant for him to see, this is intimate. He backs up and immediately hits a warm wide chest. “Yoongi!” Jimin squeaks, conscious enough to be quiet, his cheeks flaming as he’s caught.

- The snake hybrid raises an eyebrow in question. Yoongi looks ruffled, his hair messy from sleep. And it seems Jimin isn’t the only one who had plans on sneaking into your room so late at night. Yoongi’s cheeks are pink in the half-light.

- Yoongi leans in, nose so close to Jimin’s throat- where his scent is the strongest and Jimin almost flinches when he realizes how strung out and aroused he smells. Yoongi’s rippling growl makes Jimin’s legs week. 

- You’ve suddenly fallen silent in the other room; exchanging soft words that Jimin can’t hear. “I was just going to…” Jimin searches for a reason, to remember why he was here in the first place. His cheeks absolutely flaming, but before he can find a good reason to why he’s listening in and being quite the voyeur Namjoon speaks up from inside your bedroom. 

- “Jimin, Yoongi” not a question, but a command. Yoongi reaches around Jimin to push the door fully open so that both of you can see the two of them. “You can come in,” you say.

- Jimin has never been redder than he has been right now. Seeing you and Namjoon in your bed, obviously, about to- Jimin gulps audibly. “You don’t have to watch from the hallway” Namjoon teases. “You can watch from in here” Jimin is actually going to pass out, and you sense this, smacking Namjoon lightly on the arm. “Don’t tease him Joonie.”

- “Is it really okay if I-“ Jimin feels tongue-tied, his mind hazy with the smell of both of you, the pheromones that his sensitive nose can pick up on the smell of your slick, and Jimin’s mouth is suddenly so so wet. “I don’t want-“ Jimin breaks off; trying to keep his gaze averted, but can’t resist peeking. “I don’t want to make either of you uncomfortable.”

- Jimin sees out of the corner of his eye, Namjoon’s hands rubbing up and down your waist, and he wants to look, wants to see- but can’t. Keeps his eyes averted. “You don’t Jiminie- I” you break off when Namjoon’s hand travels further south. Your other puppy has absolutely no problem trying to distract you. Jimin can’t see exactly what Namjoon’s hands are doing but your chest jumps. And he realizes he’s staring again. 

-“If you’re going to look- you might as well help me take care of her too” Jimin has never heard Namjoon’s voice sound so guttural, and a look at Yoongi reveals his pink cheeks too. “unless you just want to watch like Yoongi does, that's fine too” 

- Jimin sends yoongi an accusatory glance, and the snake hybrid just shrugs at him. leveling him with a dedicatory look. well, Minnie- which are you going to choose?

- “I want- I want” jimin cant get the words out. He knows he doesn't want to leave. but is it really okay if he- is he really allowed to touch you? to make you smell like him the way that Namjoon does? Claiming you in that way. “jiminie- you can- I want you too-” your words are so quiet, face so warm. And it makes Jimin whine- looking to Namjoon for guidance. Imploring him to make the choice- to take the hint because Jimin just needs a little push. And from the looks of it so do you. 

- “You’re both obviously too shy to get it done- so let me take the reigns okay?” Namjoon counters to the silence. Yoongi is still standing behind Jimin, a step closer than should be necessary, and you give them both a shy, wide-eyed look. Like you’re checking to see that this wants it too. Jimin nods, short, jerky, unable to tear his eyes away from your face to see Namjoon’s expression until the elder shifts.

- Yoongi crosses to the other side of the room where a green velvet chair sits, stretching out and making himself comfortable. Whereas Jimin and Namjoon are always a little too soft looking to be threatening. Yoongi eyes the three of you like he’s some sort of predator. Tongue flicking out to lick at his lip. Like he can taste what Jimin can smell- the four of you- the smells of your arousals mixing together. Something satisfying and musky and undeniably pack that makes Yoongi's every instinct sing.

- Jimin has always appreciated Namjoon’s body, the strength there. In many ways he’s the stereotypical alpha; the strength in his arms and in his chest, his collarbones strong and chiseled, but he’s anything but cocky. There is someone so genuine about how unconcerned Namjoon is with his own body, and jimin can’t help but find his confidence attractive. 

- Namjoon lounges back against his hands, And the way he watches Jimin watch both of you lets Jimin know that it’s okay to look his fill. Yoongi too, the low rippling growl he lets out fills the room, makes you feel hot all over as his eyes roam you, Namjoon, and Jimin- the pretty picture you both paint.

- You sit between Namjoon’s legs, his hands on either side of your inner thigh parting your legs gently to show your wetness to Jimin. You make an aborted noise as you realize what he’s doing. All of you swollen and bear for him and nothing to cover you but Namjoon’s shirt and that just barely hiding the tone of your skin behind the creamy white fabric. You’re not wearing any underwear.

- Your pink core trembles a little, your hand gripping Namjoon’s forearm as he grins, drunk on the feel of you in his hands as he squeezed your thighs. Namjoon goes a step further Reaching down to glide a thumb across your wetness. Making you jerk in his hold as he hits the little sensitive bundle of nerves at the apex of your cunt, glistening wet and ready. 

- “Can you believe it?” he says, his voice a blown-out growl. “So full and still ready for us?” beside Jimin, Yoongi’s pupils are blown, his body jerking as he shifts in his chair, hips on the edge.

- You’re wet and dripping. Your face is hot as you look at him, standing there in the middle of the room, fully clothed while you and Namjoon are intimately bare. Jimin can’t tear his eyes away from you. You smell so ripe and for the taking.

- “You can come closer- you can touch Minnie, it’s okay,” Namjoon says it that way, but his eyes are on Yoongi, gliding down his hips to the bulge in his pants. Namjoon knows he won’t come closer- even if he really wants yoongi too. And Jimin sees that pain him- just for a moment before he puts his chin out in his direction. It’s okay- anything that Yoongi wants, whatever level he feels he can partake in this- it’s okay. Jimin wonders how Yoongi can handle it and hold himself back; how he can handle the dizzying rush of pheromones and not come closer.

- Yoongi settles, his eyes hazy and his legs spread to make room for his hands that touch with purpose. Jimin doesn’t know where to look- at him, his hands slowly smoothing up and over the bulge in his pants or at you. The way you drink in every line of Yoongi, stretched out in his tight pants. A simple hand at your throat, Namjoon rolling his fingers down from your chin to your collarbones. “Let's put on a show for him yeah? Is that what you want Yoongi?”

- Yoongi’s tongue is pink as it swipes across his lips, he nods. In a moment, Jimin feels a little unsure, but that instantly dissipates as Namjoon gestures for him to come forward.

- He’s never been touched or touched another in this way- not with love anyway. All of the small touches you’ve given him, hands on your shoulders the small of your back, felt nothing like this. His fingers reaching out, rounding on the edge of your knee experimentally. Waiting to see your reaction to make sure what he’s doing is okay. Namjoon’s tail starts up it’s wagging behind you. his hands shake with too warm palm smoothing over skin he’s never seen let alone been allowed to touch. He looks at you and feels positively ravenous, licking his lips.

- Namjoon trails a kiss down your neck and Jimin can’t help but wonder what it would feel like to sink into the skin there too. In a moment- he’s not sure if he’d rather be you being bitten or be Namjoon biting you on the neck. You probably don’t get the significance of it quite yet but Jimin- Jimin wants to be on the receiving end of that mark. To bear the mark of an alpha means to be under their protection.

- He wants all of it- all of your sweet looking soft and supple swells. Your body that’s accommodated the life within you so well and deserves a little appreciation. Anything, everything, Jimin and Namjoon will gladly provide. And Yoongi will be content to look. Not ready quite yet to be apart of this the way Jimin is. But it makes you feel hot all over, his piercing eyes on every movement. Barely even blinking.

- Jimin doesn’t know how to be the same sultry tempter that Namjoon is- but at the very least he can follow his lead. Jimin hasn’t had many sultry kisses- the ones you’d shared in your bedroom done with less intent, but he hopes that these can be just as satisfying. He leans in close to you, a hand on Namjoon’s shoulder to steady himself as he leans down. 

- The kiss is a gentle thing that Jimin knows won’t hurt. You’d never hurt him- because you’re like him. His softness and sweetness is just like yours. Both shy and honest- the genuine passion that overflows too easy. Like a hurricane filling a teacup.

- You know to go slow, and Jimin lets Namjoon- his alpha, (a whole rush goes down his spine at the idea of it) take the reigns. Feeling a comforting protective feeling wash over him as your lips play together. You suck on one of his lower lips, plush and soft between yours, and hasten a soft bite that has Jimin gasping, jerking forward to rest both hands of his on your upper thighs. Namjoon lets them go- lets you settle in between both of them.

 - He pulls away with a start. “I want both of you- please just- please- let me” you’re already pulling at the edge of his shirt. You’d seen his softness here and there too, but now, having him underneath the palm of your hands feels even better. Jimin has gained weight since he got to the farm yes- but he’s also put on more muscle than anything else, enough protein and hard work has left him soft but with clean edges, lines on his hips that point invitingly south. Dimples that you sink your fingers into.

- You hover there, skimming your hands along them, Namjoon reaching out from behind you to press a flat hand to Jimin’s pelvis, his flannel pajama pants still on, but still, even you can feel the way his abdominal muscles clench at the slightest touch. Even as you tug, give a pleading little whine, Jimin is so so weak to all of you. Jimin takes off his pants so quickly that he almost trips and falls into you, and a quiet chuckles and quick look says that Namjoon is equally as endeared by Jimin’s eagerness as you are. Even Yoongi is grinning.

- Yoongi makes a noise too and all of you look over, he’s got his pants pulled down his hips too, hands slowly teasing at the head of his cock hidden by his boxers. A wet spot there that makes jimin lick his lips. One-day Jimin will earn Yoongi’s trust enough to get his mouth on that length. Yoongi juts his chin out- an invitation to continue.

- Jimin wonders how often you’ve done this before with Yoongi- if this is only the second or third time. The question hovers on the tip of his tongue, struck out of his mind when you put your hands on him and touch him properly. Behind you Namjoon shifts, finally showing that he’s bare too- not even wearing underwear.

- A first look says yes, Namjoon is a little longer than Jimin is. But he’s far thicker than Namjoon and that small blessing in itself has a whole new kind of heat thinning in his gut. Especially when Namjoon stands and measures, going hip to hip with Jimin so that the head of his cock touches Jimin’s stomach. The older hybrid reaching out to skim his large hand over his head. Jimin’s already wet and sensitive gasping at how Namjoon’s hands- so big, fail to cover all of him.

- “I really shouldn’t call you puppy” he hastens with a chuckle, tugging at jimin’s erection, and Jimin can’t help but whine and pant. Namjoon’s mouth skims down and over Jimin’s shoulder, the contact lighting sparks under his skin with how sensitive he feels, and yet- it's still not where he wants it, Jimin feels vacant his mouth unclaimed until you stand too.

- This time you tug Jimin down with a hand in his hair, running your fingers over his ears the same moment that Namjoon bites down on his neck and pulls, teasing over the head of his cock. and it’s too much- too much so soon- making Jimin go soft and pliant as Namjoon sucks jimin’s skin between his teeth. Jimin doesn't know why the edge of a high rises so quickly only that it does and leaves his knees weak- almost giving out at the weight of all the pleasure. 

- To Jimin’s credit- he only cums a little- maybe not a full orgasm from just that. The shame and humiliation of Cumming so early makes him want to hide his face in you and hide he does. Especially when Namjoon lifts his hand up to look at Jimin’s release, chuckles, and licks it.

- He collapses into your front, breathing heavily already. The waves of your sweet arousal washing over him, his nose feels so sensitive he wants to bury it in your heat and breathe in deep, his whole body feels sensitive as Namjoon- now behind Jimin, smoothed his hands up and down his sides, somehow knowing he was a little too overwhelmed by so much so quick.

- He hopes that’s not weird- he has a feeling he’s just a little too touch starved not to get wound up. He doesn’t want this to be over that fast, wants to savor every moment. “I’m sorry,” he squeaks out, but you and Namjoon are quick to soothe him.

- “It’s nothing to be ashamed about Minnie baby, you’re just a little sensitive” Jimin loves that- that nickname falling from your mouth as your touches get slower. more sensual and loving so they don’t overwhelm him so fast. He can tell you and Namjoon and maybe Yoongi are sharing a glance, communicating silently about Jimin- but it doesn’t make him feel annoyed. It just makes him feel cared for. 

- Jimin knows he could go again, isn’t finished, he’s still rock hard, cock bobbing and twitching against his stomach. He just needs a moment to calm down. 

- You guide him to sit back up against the bed and he lies, half in your lap and half to the side. Shifting closer to you with his nose pressed to your neck, licking and sucking to his heart's content. Leaving his bruises right next to Namjoon’s. 

- You’re used to the way that Namjoon gets after an orgasm, his more animal instincts closer to the surface. Sometimes he even fails to speak with words, instead favoring whines and growls. It doesn't surprise you at all that Jimin would fall into a similar headspace the second he got overwhelmed. He laps at your skin, tail thumping as his ears twitch. His nose drawing small circles. The instincts in him pulling him lower as Namjoon rubs up and down his back soothingly.

- Jimin doesn’t realize where he’s ended up until your soft laugh and Namjoon’s chuckle join in tandem. “I take it back- you’re a puppy.” Jimin goes absolutely bright red as he opens his eyes and realizes that he’s been nosing at your breasts, the origin for your milky sweet scent.

- “Can I- have a taste?” he asks. And you turn hot for a whole different reason. you push him off a little, and Jimin wants to whine before he realizes that you’re finally taking off your shirt. and /oh/ you’re so soft looking. Your chest ample and swollen- you look absolutely perfect.

- “Sure but- uhm- I’m- just don’t be surprised if I-” you’re stuttering and shy and Namjoon just leans over, pulling lightly at your sensitive nipples so that Jimin can see for himself. He really is good at making sure you guys don’t get too shy to continue, he’s a good alpha.

- At the sight of a small bead of milk tugged forward by Namjoon’s hand Jimin growls, He tugs a little more and a single droplet travels down your sternum. You exhale as you feel the full heavy feeling that your breasts have taken on these past few weeks starts to ease a little.

- Jimin notices your discomfort the way you shift and doesn’t think- his instincts taking over before he leans forward and hastens a lick. taking the droplet from your skin into his mouth and licking up- so that he doesn't waste a drop. his plush lips melt around your nipple and he closes his eyes- savoring it. It only takes a small suck for your milk to really come in, and you shift instantly under Jimin's hands, throwing your head back with a sigh as the ache eases. Jimin growls and pulls you forward by a hand underneath your back, jostling you in his eagerness.

- You taste so sweet, the fatty liquid sliding down his throat as he suckles eagerly. Namjoon buries his fingers into your hair, pulling you up to kiss him but Jimin isn’t paying attention- can’t concentrate on anything other than the smooth taste of you sliding over his tongue as he sucks and sucks and sucks. the taste of you- the cream to your peaches and cream scent sliding like ambrosia over his tongue. 

- Jimin may not be talkative- brought down to his lower basic instincts- but he does make noise. His tail wagging behind him Hitting Namjoon’s, a whine mixing with a growl. Eyes rolling back into his head- he can’t help it you just taste so fucking good. 

- You can’t concentrate on Namjoon’s kiss either; your mouth open and a little sloppy, Namjoon levels you with a hot look. “What do you say lovely? Does she taste as good as she smells?” Jimin is so drunk on you that he barely even hears Namjoon. His teeth nip a little, you hissing a little.

- Namjoon tugs on Jimin’s hair and the other hybrid growls. It’s a Feral and angry sound- anything that would take him away from your sweet taste would have jimin angry. It’s so unexpected- that he would be so possessive- that Namjoon actually laughs. 

- You do too, though it’s quickly interrupted by a moan when Jimin pauses his sucking to lave a lick against your nipple. Namjoon holds him too far away for him to properly suck. “Gentle puppy” Jimin’s hands grip underneath your breasts, possessively clinging to you. whining at Namjoon. begging his alpha to let him go back. Namjoon lets Jimin tug his own hair before he guides his head back to you. 

- Namjoon keeps your eye contact until the second he lowers to suck too. Having both of them at the same time overwhelms you. Especially when you look past their heads and see Yoongi licking his lips too. Stroking his red cock slowly and carefully. The head is already red, and you can tell from the way he pulls off that he’d edging himself. Hips shaking every time he senses his touches. And you wonder if he wants to cum with you. His throat bobbing every time his tongue darts out.

- Having both their mouths on you makes you keen. And when Namjoon guides Jimin’s hand to your cunt you lose it- moaning, panting their names and gripping at their heads, pulling their hair. Jimin’s hands are sloppy as they grip and touch. Hungrily exploring your thighs. Namjoon’s a little more guided, paying special attention to your entrance. When he realizes Jimin’s gotten distracted feeling up your thighs and ass he guides Jimin so finger you, smooth fingertips rubbing at your walls in time with his sucks, while Namjoon rubs smooth circles against your clit.

 - You time the rolls of your hips with Yoongi’s as he shallowly fucks his hand.

- You cum like that, both their hands on you, and Yoongi’s growl, Namjoon’s head snap up. “You can cum Yoongi” Namjoon commands, with a fucked out chuckle. Your milk caught in one of his dimples. Yoongi’s hands are tight around the knot at the base of his cock, cum dripping down around his wrist, his head thrown back. Lazily spread out, his limbs turned to jelly.

- To Yoongi- it doesn't feel awkward to have cum so soon. If anything the sheer intimacy of it all- knowing that he can be vulnerable and fucked out in front of both of you- makes him feel even hazier. And just because he’s cum- doesn’t mean he doesn’t enjoy the sight of you three all tangled together.

- Jimin’s hardness pokes at your thigh as he straddles it. Rocking against you in time with his sucks. hands returning to their appreciation of your thighs once you’ve cum, head a little clearer. Namjoon is equally as hard and waiting. Namjoon groans as one of your hands finds his cock. 

- You’re used to the way he likes it by now, concentrating your attention on his head. Your other less dominant hand still makes Jimin jerk. Fucking into the tight circle of your hand that can’t fit around the entirety of his cock but is more than enough to tease his head until he’s throbbing.

- Jimin gives one last bite as your milk peters off; no more left and your other breast rightfully as drained, pulling away and licking at his lips. He’s so high on the taste of you, the smell of you, all of you that he barely realizes he’s grinding against your thigh or into your hand. Namjoon stills your hand against him when he gets close. Your thighs shake as Namjoon guides both of you to sit back; pressing a kiss to your forehead, Jimin’s, and then your tummy.

- “Why don’t you watch and see how it’s done puppy” Jimin gets off, sitting on his knees to the side and resists the urge to touch. Namjoon gives him a look and you look up from where you lie against the bed, grinning at him. but he’s obedient, doesn't touch, and just watches to learn. 

- “Would you cum again if I called you good b-” Jimin flushes, scrambling to get a hand over your mouth and stop you from finishing that sentence as his cock twitches and dribbles pre-cum onto the blanket. Face flaming as you laugh against his palm. “Yes- so please don’t I just want to-” Jimin whines. the humiliation making him hornier somehow. Yoongi’s rueful grin and Namjoon's expectant expression that says Jimin is just the cutest thing he’s ever seen.

- It’s somewhat of an honesty thing too- because you know Jimin- you know him so well enough to tease him and have it not be awkward but arousing- knowing just the right words to say to get him riled up. To prove to you that he can be good- can learn how to fuck you well without cumming (again) “why don’t you help me hold her Minnie.”  

- Namjoon’s smirk is happy and a little fucked out as he pulls your hips to the edge of the bed by your ankles, your laughter turning into a giggle. Knowing how Namjoon loves to man handle you. And you’d be lying if his strength- the fact that he can still lift you without issue even this far into your pregnancy wasn’t a little bit of a turn on. 

- Namjoon gently manhandles you into the position he wants, you stretched out against the sheets, your nipples all puffy and pink from the way Namjoon and jimin mercilessly handled you earlier. A bruise forming where Jimin was a little rough, half-circles from his mouth. 

- Namjoon guides you to hold your hands above your head, guiding your wrists into Jimin’s to hold you there, his hands lacing with yours, bending down to kiss you. You gasp into Jimin’s mouth at the first push of Namjoon into your dripping cunt. The push and pull of his hips. It’s as erotic as it is sweet, Jimin presses his hips to the bed to relieve some of the aches but does not rut forward. And a look from Namjoon tells him to be careful- he’ll allow that- but the next time Jimin cums Namjoon wants it to be by his command.

- “You see Minnie- she’s not the biggest fan of a rough fuck- we’ve got to be gentle with her see, but as long as you make them deep and long she likes it” Namjoon shows Jimin and below Them, you moan. Lacing your fingers with Jimin's. 

- There is a certain unspoken dominance between Namjoon and the other hybrids. You too- though that has less to do with scent and the instinctual pull that you feel to be good for him. Jimin can’t get a good handle on why exactly he wants to do everything the elder says only that the idea of Namjoon being upset with him right now sends a jolt of fear all the way to the end of his tail.

- When Namjoon cums it’s with a low groan, and you squirting weakly around his cock. Your thighs are shaking and Namjoon leans close to kiss you through you high, then leans up to kiss Jimin too in reward for being patient. 

- You’re panting, body humming with pleasure as you feel namjoon’s knot press just outside your entrance, bulging so much that his rocking rubs against your clit. Namjoon is careful to fist his knot in his hand, meant to lock him and his partner in place to ensure a pregnancy would take place. If you were a hybrid you would be keening for his knot, probably crying for it. But as it is you’re a little glad he didn’t decide to stretch you out on it today. 

- You’re sure that the next time you cum your eyes are going to roll back. And you might pass out. It’s happened before. The first night you and Namjoon ever let Yoongi watch you. Namjoon had so thoroughly put you through your paces that you’d collapsed, and come to with two very panicked hybrids standing over you.

- Especially because it would have taken several long minutes to go down and Jimin is hard and aching for you. Namjoon is a good and patient alpha; he’ll let Jimin knot you tonight. Namjoon gives his knot one final squeeze before he gestures for Jimin. He lets go of your hands unwillingly, joining Namjoon at the edge of the bed.

- Namjoon pulls you by your legs to the edge of the bed, the movement so sudden that it makes you giggle. You’re a little fucked out, but it only makes your hybrids endeared. You close your eyes as Namjoon manhandles you into place, sighing out a “fuck” as he sees you below him. god- Namjoon loves you so much and you can feel it in every touch. 

- He hitches your legs up and asks you to hold them, hands gripping underneath your knees. Keeping you bare for all of them. Jimin’s mouth waters when he sees your wet and messy cunt, a little bit of Namjoon’s cum dripping out of your entrance.

- Fuck just getting his mouth on Yoongi; Jimin wants to get his mouth on all of you. Huh- maybe he has some sort of oral fixation. Jimin is so caught up in imagining it he barely processes Namjoon stepping away, tugging jimin in close and positioning himself behind the other dog hybrid, Namjoon’s knot and wet cock presses up against Jimin’s ass as Namjoon uses his hands to guide jimin into your heat. 

- Jimin is so thick. So big compared to your entrance, the stretch doesn't burn after Namjoon but you do feel full- so deliciously full that it makes you gasp and grip jimin's shoulder, letting your leg fall against his hip. 

-  You're so wet and warm; Jimin has to slow down immediately. whining loud in the quiet room. “Alpha- I can’t-” namjoon's hand forms a vice around the base of his cock, keeping him from cumming. “You can- and you will Jimin” Weather it’s your wetness or Namjoon’s cum that makes the slide inside of you so slick. He can only thrust forward so far before his stomach makes contact with your baby bump, and the slide, the simple push of your hips against his makes him feel tingly all over.

- “Fuck you feel so good,” Jimin pants out, and you smile, reaching forward to brush his hair out of his face and over his ears, sending a shock of pleasure all the way down to his tail. Maybe it’s because he’s been wound up so much, or because you’re still tightening with the last thrum of your orgasm that makes Jimin come so easily. 

- He’s only been trusting inside of you for a few minutes before he feels his knot start to swell, pulsating against namjoons fingers and ready to spill inside. namjoon lets him go and Jimin can barely keep himself from getting rough with you. though he won’t- would never dream of hurting you. It feels nice to be filled by him, and you feel yourself brought to the edge again by his gentleness- he doesn’t have to thrust quickly for it to feel good- just being this close- as close as you two can get to each other is enough.  

- It’s not Jimin’s first time having sex. But for all intents and purposes. You’re the only ones it matters for. He sends a panicked look in Namjoon’s direction, unsure if he’ll be able to hold off. His hands shaking where they sit, entwined with yours. Body crouched as close as he can to you. Through the entirety of it- Namjoon has been stroking up and down his back, and he grips his hips now- guiding him through each thrust to make them less sloppy.  “Alpha- alpha please-“  

- “You can cum Jimin, make sure you knot her.” At his alphas command Jimin cums with a shout. Namjoon pressed to his back and Yoongi hissing over his shoulder. Watching every thrust with baited breath. namjoon pushes jimin’s hips inside at just the right moment and you twitch as he knots you. feeling him swell inside you more than should be possible entrance pulsating in time with his twitches. jimin cumming into you with squirts and squirts of warmth as you milk his knot.

- You squirt weakly- and it drips down around his cock and makes it even wetter if that’s even possible, no doubt leaving a puddle against your bed. you hold jimin close and he wants to collapse against you but doesn't because of namjoon holding him around the middle, guiding you to safely sit to the side, giving your little baby bump a little loving rub. “Gotta keep the bun safe minnie” namjoon chides. “Sorry hyung just- so good” Jimin slurs. eyes still rolling back in his head as he just keeps Cumming. 

- “Can I call you good boy now?” you tease, and jimin whines again predictably as both namjoon and yoongi nodd. Jimin’s knot does not stay inflated as long as namjoon’s does. starting to shrink after a few minutes once he stops cumming really. though the occasional spasm of your walls around him has him tensing again. 

- When its gone down fully he makes to pull out but namjoon catches his hips again, and tells him to wait. A shiver goes down his spine as yoongi walks over to watch. your leg flopping to the side, open so that he can see, though you grumble and cover your flaming face. it might be a little embarrassing- but it’s also really fucking hot- the way they like to see how much they’ve wrecked you- claimed you in a way they only could.  

- jimin doesn't understand until he sees namjoon and yoongi’s ravenous expressions, the way they lick their lips. it’s only then that namjoon carefully guides jimin to pull out. 

- the rush of cum is immediate, forced out of your entrance by your lingering orgasam makeing you clench and force their cum out of you. there's so much of it, dripping down your thigh thick and viscous and so so messy. 

- jimin is so overwhelmed, as his cock keeps dripping. he flops back onto the bed after a second, close enough to you to be wrapped in your arms, both of you huffing with labored breathes, Namjoon gripping hard around his waist and guiding him into the comfort of the bed and your arms. Hands splayed wide on Jimin’s trembling stomach. Pinching at Jimin’s knot for a moment. And the whole room spins.  

- Jimin is so pretty when he arches his back to try and get away from the over stimulation, especially when your hand joints namjoons and you both squeeze- head thrown back in ecstasy, his plush lips parted with his pants. “Stop fuck- too much” your hands are off of him the second he says it. Jimin’s eyes are closed, as you lean in and kiss at his neck. “Sorry puppy” he hears the older alpha chime- Jimin whines, his whole body turned to jelly.

- You’re barely sighing and settling back into the sheets, head tilted to get a sloppy fucked out kiss from Namjoon. Yoongi lingers. And you look up at him expectantly. His cock is still hard and curving against his stomach.Somewhere between jimin and Namjoon in thickness and length but ribbed with veins that stick out like the ones on the back of his hands.

- You think he’s going to mount you too (your deepest darkest fantasy’s hope that he might. You have to admit that you like the idea of one of them going one after another, Cumming in you, making you feel full and well fucked. You’re certain that one day- if they still want this- if they want to keep doing this with you. You’ll have that, each of them knotting you and filling you up- breeding you and making sure they knock you up again. human hybrid pregnancies are so rare they’re practically non-existent, but you know if there where any that would manage it it would be these three.)

- jimin’s eyes nearly roll into the back of his skull when he smells yoongi closer, nostrils flaring, “gotta help us breed our omega yoongi” he slurs. clutching posessively at you. The words so unexpected but so right. Namjoon can’t take his eyes off Yoongi. While in his arms. jimin tries not to dose- thoroughly spent. 

- It’s the kind of language that Namjoon’s used with you before- calling you their omega- though you’re human you know what it means. To be theirs, taken care of and knocked up and fucked out. You and Namjoon- for the amount you bicker like an old married couple. Also communicate a lot,

- Though talk of your fantasies has mostly been pillow talk. Both of you spoke of wanting this before it happened and of your feelings for the others too. Namjoon had squealed almost as much as you had when you’d told him of jimin’s confession.

- You’d done your best to learn all you could about hybrids. So it never struck you as strange when Namjoon had come to you and confessed that Yoongi would one day be apart of his pack. Namjoon’s alpha instincts choosing Yoongi- spreading protectively over the snake hybrid. Namjoon hadn’t had much control over who was accepted into his pack- much in the same way that you have never have control over who you fall in love with.

- And maybe it was through you- that Namjoon and Yoongi eventually found a way to connect beyond the touches. Because Yoongi looks at the utter mess of your entrance, splattered with jimin and Namjoon cum and growls. His hands barely brushing your skin as he guides you to spread your legs and bare yourself to him. You dont understand what obsession they have with looking at your cunt- but there has to be something. 

- Namjoon ever insatiable even snakes his hand around to spread you out for Yoongi. Teasing at your outer lips before his thumb presses against your clit- making your legs tremble. His touches so slow and firm, enough to make you absolutely desperate for another orgasm.

- Yoongi won’t touch you, he won’t make you cum- you know that enough by now because as much as Yoongi loves the intimacy you have it’s still too much for him. But one of his fangs hangs out over his lip when Namjoon starts to finger you. Rubbing their cum into your clit. And like you could read his mind, Yoongi starts up his stroking above you. 

- He never breaks eye contact with you. Beside you, Jimin shifts to watch. His sweat making his hair stick to his forehead. “I’m not going to stop until you’re squirting,” 

- “Why do you always want to- ah- make me messy?” you tease Namjoon- bickering with him even now. “Who knows maybe dirt is just my kink.” 

- Jimin snorts, “You hate gardening Namjoon-“ you laugh, but you’re also squirming in overstimulation, as Namjoon’s thumb teases and teases until you’re trembling, and you want to gasp say that you can’t possibly cum again- but a look over your shoulder tells you that Namjoon knows you can. Yoongi’s eyes lock with yours when you look back, and you see the sweat on his temple, Namjoon’s hand speeding up when his does.

- Cumming after a few minutes with a gush that makes your cheeks flame. Hips jerking up and off the bed as you squirt- pussy clenching so hard that it forces their cum out to drip. Timed with you again- the intimacy of it all- of Cumming together, Yoongi’s cum spurting all over your stomach before he directs it to your clit. Mixing with the other hybrids cum. 

- You’re thoroughly spent, legs falling open with no shame to hide you from the painful friction that would surely arise if anything touched your clit right now. Reaching out for arms that gladly take you. Ready to have them close.

- Jimin sits up, brain finally a little clearer as the pheromones in the room start to dissipate, leaning forward to hasten a lick Over your entrance tasting all of you intermingled makes his tail wag. But you’re a little too sensitive even for that- and you pull Jimin away before he can give a second lick, and he curls up close to you in the next second, face buried in your shoulder. 

- He’s just as fucked out at you are, wrung out and hung to dry by all of this intimacy and pleasure making his body feel satisfied and settled. Unwilling to move from this bed. speaking only through whines and grumbles. Practically non verbal- and brought low into his hybrid headspace. Jimin and Namjoon don’t mind the mess on you. To them- it just smells like pack and home.

- He’s dimly aware of Yoongi going to the bathroom to get a rag for you- because as much as you love the feeling of all of their cum filling you up you really don’t want to have to change your sheets and luckily for you- most of the mess of your lovemaking has been well contained On you skin and your well placed blanket that can easily be exchanged for a fresh one.

- Namjoon softly turns jimin over onto his stomach, Jimin’s red cock pressed uncomfortably to the bed as they wipe down the release on Jimin’s back too. (Had Namjoon cum there? rutting in-between Jimin’s ass cheeks as he’d been inside you? and had Jimin been too lost in the throws of his passion to realize?)

- “I love you Yoongi, thank you for letting us do this, thank you for being apart of this.” he hears you say, and it makes Jimin’s tail wag.

- He stays awake long enough to hear Namjoon switch the fan on and to feel Namjoon swallow both you and Jimin in his arms. He hears them quietly conversing. “Are you sure you don’t want to come closer?” Yoongi must indicate one way or another. Because Namjoon quietly settles. 

- The bed shifts, and he gathers Yoongi must have curled up several inches to the left of him. jimin squirms- wishing he’d come closer. but then he feels the slow trail of Yoongi’s fingers just along his spine and smiles into your hair.

- He wants to reach out, to pull him closer- but Jimin won’t know that touch is so tenuous for him. He knows him not partaking tonight isn’t anything to do with not loving you three. Jimin will respect Yoongi’s boundaries for as long as it takes for Yoongi to not feel a bit of the aching hesitation he suffers through when it comes to loving his pack. His eyes closed, he feels fingers trail along the edge of his hairline, ears flicking and nose twitching, Jimin lets out a happy little puppy grumble.

- “Love you” he finds himself whispering against your hair, “love you all so much” his words are slurry and not all there. And he’s rewarded with Namjoon muttering it back, reaching out to run a hand gently along his cheeks. A large hand knots in his hair, not rubbing through and just gripping, and jimin knows its Yoongi hand.

- Yoongi stays awake that night until all of you are asleep, wishing that for once- he felt the pull of Namjoon’s alphaness the same way Jimin did. The younger certainly seemed hazy; all of the tension in his body giving way with Namjoon’s will exert itself over him. But he’s content to see them the way they are now, all soft and vulnerable. Namjoon and Yoongi bookending the both of you curled together in the middle. So peaceful. Yoongi hopes he can make the two of you feel as safe as Namjoon makes you feel.

- Yoongi reaches out to touch your face, thumb drifting a hair's breadth from your lips, he knows he could never hurt you- never even dream of it. His mistress- owner- this mission was doomed from the start. He was yours- for all intents and purposes of the words. Yoongi didn’t want to be anywhere else in the world. Other than your bed at that moment. 

- And when he closes his eyes He imagines all the ways that he would touch you if he could. How he would have touched you tonight if he’d just allowed himself too. Maybe in the future- maybe in a few days when he gets used to this togetherness he’ll get to be close to you in the way he so desperately wants. Tonight was so nice, and with you smelling like all three of them. Yoongi feels like he’s apart of this- in a way that he hasn’t felt before. 

- it’s not only touches he wants- it’s the love you share too. All of the words he would whisper low in your ears where he able. He’d find out your favorite foods and cook them every day, find out everything you like- badger you even. So that he could learn your favorite things and hopefully earn the right of being one of your favorite things too. 

- He imagines the three of you holding him close in the winter and giving him space in the spring when his skin gets all sheady and itchy. Maybe you’d even make him one of those oatmeal baths that you’d started to favor towards the end of your pregnancy to help ease the shedding process. he imagines Jimin prodding at his scales and counting them. Namjoon kissing the ones behind his ear. 

- Yoongi thinks of the future you have with namjoon and jimin and thinks about you and your child. Yoongi imagines for a second even though the image hurts; what it would be like to see them. He feels his heart ache so viscerally it’s too much- he can’t think about that. 

- He can't think about what he can’t have. In the next few days he’s going to do his best to love you three and protect you and then that will be that. that's all yoongi gets. Not a life with you or a family with you. And then he opens his eyes, swallowing. And thinks that even if he doesn’t get to see all of that- at least- at the very least, he can savor every moment like it might be the last.

- And it is the last moment, Five. 

-  Four. He leaves the room to get a glass of water. If he’d known, maybe he would have looked back when he crossed over the threshold of your bedroom door. The clock ticking down to zero in an instant like a timer left unwatched. 

- Three. If he’d known, maybe he would have leaned over Jimin’s body to kiss your lips- just to kiss you once. Given Namjoon a kiss too. Touched Jimin's face to say ‘I’m sorry I couldn’t give you the love you want, but they’ll give it to you in my absence,”

- Two. On his ways down the stairs, the house is quiet and so familiar. The only home he’s ever had, the only place he’s ever wanted to stay forever.

- One. He’s just on the landing, when he sees the car out-front, black with its lights off, but if he listens he can still hear it running, as quiet as a mountain lions purr. Then He hears a quiet knock at the door. And Yoongi pauses on the steps.

- The clock stops at zero.

- The cherry of her lit cigarette is the only thing that glimmers in the moonlight with any color. That and the red tip of her tongue as she rolls it over her teeth. Yoongi freezes in fear the second he sees his owner, standing with her arm against the doorframe. 

- A wash of cigarette smoke tainting the scents of all of you on him. He sees her farce, her thinly veiled superiority, and the tenseness in her body. Three men behind her. it’s all a lie, she’s angry and she’s afraid and she’s a devil in human skin. 

- “Times up Yoongi.” One moment- he just needs one more moment. Holds up her finger and for once, she listens. Taps her foot impatiently. 

- The house is quiet, upstairs you sleep on, unaware of what happens below. 

- The next morning you wake up to Jimin and Namjoon curled up close. Their soft breathes intermingling in the golden light of morning. Jimin nosing underneath your chin. You cuddle close for a moment letting the safety of sleep melt away, before you sigh and get up to get dressed. The heats broken over the night, and you wrap your fluffy robe around your shoulders just to feel a little cozy. You don’t know why you feel so restless, but it’s like your bones are cold.

- Things are too quiet, the hum of Yoongi’s air conditioners aren’t running, aren’t filling the top floor of your house with their white noise hum. And you realize something’s wrong the second you pause by his door. Usually, his air conditioners run through the night, and leave the space under his door and immediately outside in the hall cooler to the touch, but a look inside after a nock reveals his room is empty, his straw hat is missing from its hook too. You’d assumed he’d left after last night to sleep in his own room because yours was too warm.

- You spill out onto the first floor of your house looking for him, searching for him by the coffee maker or on the couch watching the morning news, but a small commotion, terse hush words interrupt your train of thought.

- The cat hybrids are crowded around something on the table. Breakfast barely even started. One of them turns when they see you in the doorway and if any of them notice something different about your scent- probably drenched with both all of your hybrids. None of them say anything. If you had to guess- you’d say that whatevers wrong is much more pressing than any hybrid faux pas.

- “We were going to wake you” one of them says, biting her lower lip, her torn ear twitching. “We didn’t think you’d want us to move it until you saw.”

- The crowd parts, and you pull up to the side of the prep table. a blanket is folded on the table- it’s Yoongi’s- the heated one. The one that he needs to sleep if he’s going to not wake up shaky and too cold in the middle of the night. His sun hat- the one he always wears sitting on top of it, a little note sitting there too tucked into the leather band.

- The simple note- two words that aren’t enough to soothe the sudden panic in your veins. “I’m sorry” written in his neat scrawl. The words he wants to say but can’t- had to erase and then scribble over so you can’t read them. “I’m sorry I can’t stay, I would if I could, and I want too so bad. it’s not your fault that i had to go.” 

- But there are just those two. I’m sorry. Not enough and almost visceral in the way that they shock the air out of your lungs. You gasp- almost falling with the way it hits you. You wish it wasn’t true, but deep down you know what it means.

- Yoongi is gone. 

Please Reblog and Comment! Likes are nice but they do little to support content creators! 

Kofi

[thiserichann]

cookies and cream - lee jeno

reader x jeno

genre: smut, strangers to fuck buddies, humor if you squint hard enough

word count: 4k-ish

warnings: recklessness (she met with a stranger online, don’t do it kids) excessive lying, 18+ scenes that includes: oral (f receiving) face riding, soft dom!jeno?

This is merely a work of fiction and is not meant to hurt the image of Jeno and NCT. Again, don’t be as reckless as OP. This was just a fantasy of mine that I’ve been dying to get out of my system.

Holy fuck.

That's the only word that you've managed to utter when you decided to check your messages that morning.

You got bored in the middle of the class and decided to sneak a peek on your phone to pass the time. The class is recorded anyways so you can always just go back to the parts of the lessons that you've missed.

But holy fuck.

You never expected to see THAT so early in the morning.

"Miss Y/N?"

You snapped back to reality and stopped malfunctioning for a second when somebody called your name. Everyone including your professor remained quiet and all eyes are on you.

"Oh. Sir what’s the question again?"

You answered nervously as you tried to review your notes and backtrack on what he is discussing a few moments ago.

"I see that you're distracted in the middle of my class again. Mind sharing what you're occupied with?"

"Uhm. I was watching KPOP fancams, sir."

"Fancams won't get you into law school, Miss Y/N. Phones off please."

You tucked your phone back to your pocket and never picked it up again since. The professor started blabbering again but no information is being retained on your head. It stayed that way at your other classes.

You wished you were looking at some KPOP fancams earlier. You’ve watched fancams at class before and got away with it unscathed.

Oh no. It was a goddamn dick pic.

A good one, too.

It was from a guy that you met in a kink site a few days ago. You created the account out of boredom and expected nothing to come out from it. It’s all the flirting and sexting without all the unnecessary commitment

It only took you a few minutes to set up an account. For some privacy, you made a random birthdate and a random nickname, because like hell would you share your real information to these people. You also picked a racy picture of a lady that looked a bit like you and passed it off as your own.

Within minutes, your inbox is flooded with messages. Most of them, however, are from men who are old enough to be your father.

Well, you were bored, so you entertained everyone and then went on back to your boring, vanilla life. A few political history and theory books later, you went back to see which ones messaged you on the site.

And that's where you've met him.

The most gorgeous piece of meat alive.

He seems like a nice guy. He introduced himself as LJ and your age aren’t that far off from each other. LJ is the only one who actually engaged in conversation besides "want to fuck?" or "are you horny?"

As soon as you started messaging back and forth, you scrolled on his profile to see what he looks like. The only thing is, his profile looked a whole lot like those high fashion male underwear photoshoots.

It was an array topless pictures (presumably his, you just can’t be bothered to check if it is actually his). It featured his sculpted abs and biceps, cropped up all the way to his full lips. Despite not seeing his whole face, you knew very well that he’s a hunk. To say you were intrigued is an understatement.

Since then, you've been talking back and forth through Snapchat (your secret one because you're not stupid) and sent him actual pictures of yourself, completely omitting the face. You took one from your bed, your bathtub, and probably every part of your house that you felt is sexy enough to be included on the pics.

You can't tell him if it's him or the repressed sexual urges finally manifesting itself after more than a year of not getting laid, but every text to and from him made your heart race. It was something that you looked forward to every hour everyday.

Hours went by that you totally forgot leaving him on read. You climbed up to your bed to rest your back to the headboard and opened your unread messages.

You: Hey svlr. School stuff.

  He opened the chat and started typing right away.

  LJ: Oh good. I thought I did something wrong to upset you.

You: Not at all. I loved the pic by the way. It literally knocked my socks off.

LJ: Just the socks?

You: You can take the rest of it off yourself ;)

You scoffed. The flirty banter has always been there ever since you started talking but nothing really came out of it.

LJ: If only I could :(

You: I know. Covid’s a bitch.

You set your phone aside for a second to go to the bathroom. On your way, you picked up some snacks at the fridge and sat back down to your bed, only to find your phone blowing up.

LJ: If you're down maybe we could meet

LJ: It's totally fine if you don't want to

LJ: I just made it weird, didn't I?

LJ: I'm so sorry I brought it up in the first place

LJ: I didn't mean to make you feel uncomfortable

LJ: Hello?

LJ: I'm really sorry

You: Chill. I'm right here

You: I just went to the bathroom

LJ: Oh

You: I'd be lying if I said I don't want to meet you as well

You: Well... I wouldn't write off the idea

You: But with the Covid

LJ: Thoughts?

You: I don't think it's a great idea

The screen says Seen right at the bottom but it took him a couple more minutes before finally replying.

LJ: I understand

LJ: But in case you change your mind, I'll leave the time and place up to you

LJ: I’ll take care of the rest

LJ: Deal?

You: I'll sleep on it.

You: Speaking of sleep, I gotta go. Morning class.

LJ: Okay. I guess this is good night then

You didn't, in fact, talk to him the day after.

You'd be lying if you said that you didn't want to see him and his abs in real life. But as someone who overthinks a lot, you just can't shake off the risk.

You: Good night. Talk to you tomorrow.

What if he's not really the guy in the pics? Or he’s psycho in real life? What if he's infected the virus?

You sighed.

Why must some global pandemic ruin your sex life?

You waited until the end of the day before you finally replied to LJ. The last thing that he texted was a brief good morning from earlier in the day and nothing else. He’s actually a pretty sweet guy, totally not worth ghosting, and you actually liked talking to him as a friend that you can share your sentiments with.

With your guilt finally eating you up, you took a break from your assigned readings and sat back at your bed to rest for the day. Your fingers hovered over the keyboard for a minute, thinking of something to say to him. It took you a few tries before finally hitting the send button.

You: So, I thought about it

LJ: And?

You: I need to know I can trust you

LJ: Okay. How?

You: I don’t know. Send me a proof that you’re real. Get tested?

You: Is that fine with you?

Within a split second, he sent his reply.

He actually did it.

You couldn’t believe it but he actually did it.

LJ: Consider it done.

He got tested for physical, including the virus test, and passed with flying colors. He even sent you a vid of him inside a medical clinic.

He just sent the uncensored results this morning where you can clearly see his real name.

Lee Jeno.

LJ.

Seems legit.

Well, the uncreative nickname shouldn’t matter now because the results meant only one thing.

You’re gonna have to push through with your promise.

You got ready around noon that day. You can’t remember the last time that you actually got ready to meet someone that’s not a delivery guy or a relative passing on something to your family.

As someone who overthinks a lot, you actually got everything covered. You picked a place near a restaurant to eat. The police station is just a few blocks away just in case something happens, and right in front of a library…

“Where’re are you off to?”

You raised your backpack to show to your mother.

“I’m off to the library. I needed to get these renewed. Maybe pick up a novel or two.”

She looks at you from head to toe, eyeing that incredibly loose hoodie, faded denim jeans, some worn out sneakers that looked like it’s supposed to be thrown away years ago and a medical mask that covers about ¾ of your bare face. It’s just your usual attire whenever you go out for errands.

She just nodded and went back to watching her favorite soap opera.

“It’s nice that you’re out of your room for once. Take some cookies from the kitchen so you’ll have something to eat in case you get hungry.”

�� as an alibi to get away from your strict parents.

As soon as you left the door and made sure that you’re out of sight, you found the nearest public toilet and grabbed a whole other outfit from your backpack. The hoodie is replaced by a white, ruffled see-through blouse and you ditched the jeans for a tight skirt that’s at least four inches above your knees. You tousled your hair a little bit and put on some powder and tiny hint of lipstick before putting your facemask back on again.

It’s been a while since you’ve done an elaborate scheme like this. Your skills got a little bit rusty, but they always work.

Sometimes you wonder if you’re really meant to be lawyer or a criminal instead.

You stepped out of the toilet and blended right back into society.

Now all you have to do is find wherever the hell LJ is.

Jeno sat anxiously as he waited for you right inside the café. He’s on his fourth cup of coffee but it didn’t do anything to calm his nerves down (geez I wonder why).

You: I’m almost at the café.

He’s been staring at his phone the whole time. Once he received your message, which is a pic of you in the bathroom after the outfit change, he almost choked on his drink.

This message sent him on a panic as he turned his camera on to see how he looked. He did some minor adjustments to his hair and he wiped off his eyeglasses clean with the sleeves of his hoodie (which did nothing for him by the way) and then casually sat down and played it off cool like he hasn’t been waiting for you for over an hour.

On your perspective, you walked inside the café and looked around for LJ. Fortunately, there was only guy inside the café, twiddling with his phone on his hands and as he kept on peeking through the glass windows as if he’s looking for someone.

From afar, he actually looked really cute. His appearance, a shy, nerdy dude with glasses, looked way off from the fuckboy image that you expected him to have in reference to the messages that you’ve been getting from him.

It’s always the quiet ones that are kinky. You should know, you are one.

You walked over to his table and tapped his shoulders to get his attention.

He froze for a moment before he finally managed to turn around and face you.

“You’re actually here.”

“I know. I’m just as surprised as you are.”

tap tap tap tap

The room is so quiet that the only thing you can hear is the sound of your heels tapping against the tiled floor. You can say that that is one of your observable annoying habits tapping your foot on the floor when you're a nervous wreck.

Sighing in retaliation, you removed your hoodie, fanning yourself as you tried to relax and get comfy on the hotel couch (which should be comfortable enough since you paid a shit ton of money on that room), switching the TV on to get your mind off of things. The lackluster array of shitty sitcoms didn’t distract you at all, but it instead reminded you of the reasons why you’re in that room in the first place.

Having nothing to do to pass the time, you paced back and forth in the room, finally sitting down once you realized that it looks way worse than you just tapping your foot. You folded your arms right across your chest, looking at the watch from time to time but the hands of the clock seem to be moving slower the more you stare at it.

Quarantine started almost a year ago and it's been very hard for you. Sexually. It's been almost a year since you've been touched by a man and you’re more than ready to jump on anyone’s dick at any this point,

Too bad that that dick is taking his sweet time in the bathroom.

tap tap tap tap

Your foot found its rhythm once again, only this time, you’re not nervous anymore. Your patience is wearing thin.

As if summoned by the constant tapping, the guy comes out of the bathroom, just casually drying himself while wearing nothing but the towel dangerously hanging on his waist and a boyish smile on his lips.

No biggie.

"Hey."

Suddenly, you’re not tapping anymore.

Head empty, just thoughts of a hot guy patting down a towel all over his toned body.

“I hope I didn’t make you wait for too long.”

He spoke, tossing aside the towel on his hands on the sofa, finally giving you a full view of him and all his glory.

You must admit, you’re skeptical at first. The guy that’s been sending you faceless thirst traps just days ago, telling you how he’d fuck you senseless looked a lot different from the guy who entered the hotel room just a moment ago.

He came in wearing those black oversized hoodies that did a great job in hiding his best features. His hair was a bit long for your taste, covering half of his face while the face mask hid the other.

But this man right here in front you, he’s Adonis.

You unconsciously bit your lower lip, earning a chuckle from the guy.

“I’m guessing that you’d like to start now?”

You nodded, the tension and awkwardness rendering you unable to speak.

He smiles as he takes the remote from you, turning off the television because the main show is about to start.

You started to tense up again, eyes wide as you realized that he’s now right beside you, wrapping his arms around you as soon as he sat down. He leans over, soft lips coming into contact with your exposed neck and shoulders, landing small pecks all over.

You sat there breathless as he slowly ran his fingers to the side of your thighs, tracing circles at it while giving small, reassuring kisses on your neck and shoulders. It’s as if he’s asking you for your consent, waiting for you to open up to him before he makes a move.

He got his answer when you turned around to face him, running your fingers into his cheeks before cupping his face, your lips finally touching his. He moved in the same pace as earlier, slow and calculating. You got a bit impatient once again, biting his lower lips gently to let him know that he can do more.

He grabbed you by the waist and successfully placed you on top of him. The kiss got even more sloppy as you ran your hands through nape, then into his soft locks. His hands travelled once again, finger running through legs again, stopping as soon as he reached the hem of your skirt, flipping it up to reveal the thin lace material that barely covered your core. You took that as initiative to remove the towel on his waist and grinded against his growing member, the friction and heat enough to earn a groan out of him.

He held your waist once again, firmly this time, halting your movement completely.

You broke away from the kiss, staring him in the eyes to read his face.

“Something wrong?”

“Hold tight.”

You were about to ask about what hold tight mean, but your arms cling unto him involuntarily as he lifts the both of you out of the sofa.

Jeno laid you gently in the bed, making sure not to break eye contact as he does so. He looked like he's about to eat you alive, which is enough to send flush to your cheeks.

“I would’ve loved to bend you over that sofa, but I think it’s just proper that our first time will be on the bed.”

"God. You're beautiful."

He then ran his fingers towards the thin fabric of your blouse, feeling every part of your torso like he's memorizing every detail of it. His hands then travelled in your chest, squeezing the swell of your breasts on each hand, fingers shaking as he does so. It felt like an artist admiring his delicate work of art.

He situated himself between your legs, taking a moment to admire you first before doing anything else.

He started to run his hand on your cleavage and stopped on the uppermost button of your blouse, taking his time to remove all of them and placing a kisses at the exposed skin. After all of the buttons are taken care of, you lifted your body up and slid off the fabric. Your black lacy bra finally made its appearance. You took the liberty of taking that off too, as slow and as you possibly can.

 Jeno just stared at your body in awe, breathing heavily as his eyes scanned your naked glory.

 "Gorgeous."

He said under this breath before leaning down to claim your lips once again. You're turned on by how much attention he's giving your body now. You're usually loud in bed but his gestures are making you bashful. You've never felt this beautiful before.

You can feel his hands trembling as it travels all over your body, his kisses getting even more needy. There was moans of satisfaction every time he would lick your lips. Jeno was kissing you like you were oxygen and he needed to breath.

His hands travelled south, running across your thigh and your now aching core. You're about to remove your skirt and underwear but he stopped your hands midway.

"Keep it."

He took your hands away from your skirt and placed them just above your head.

"Just sit there and relax baby. Let me treat you."

You did just like he told you and gave him full control of your body.

"Good girl."

His lips brushed your ears, whispering sweet nothings about how beautiful you are under him. His kisses then went down to your neck, using his tongue and teeth, marking everything he can get his mouth on with his saliva. Meanwhile, his hands finally touched you down there, massaging your still clothed wetness.

His middle and index finger felt your slit, moving it in swift motion in search for your clit.

"Oh my god. That's it."

You gasped as his fingers finally hit the right spot, tossing your head back as his fingers made circles at your bundle or nerves.

You opened your legs more, leaning on your arms on your back, head tossed back and eyes closed as you feel your impending orgasm.

He dipped his hand inside your underwear and collected some of your essence with his fingers. The mental picture of him licking his fingers deliciously is enough to get you off for weeks.

It didn't take long before he took your panties off and his ducked his head down. He opened your legs once again and licked one long stripe on your core, making sure to taste all of you. You sat there and watch as he hungrily takes all of you in his mouth, acting like your pussy is a full course meal and he's been starving for years.

Within moments, you've become a moaning, toe curled mess. You ran your fingers to his blonde hair, guiding him on how to move his tongue and fingers on you. At one point, he bit some of your sensitive skin, making you scream a string of curses under your breath.

"Stop stop stop."

You grab a fistful of his hair and he paused from what he was doing. You pushed him gently away from you, leaving him staring at you confusedly. The confusion didn't last long when you flipped your current position, you're now on top.

"Can I ride your face?"

At this point, you're bold and horny enough to use your words and ask him. He just nodded, sliding himself from underneath you and went back to eating you like a champ. You grabbed his hands and placed them across your chest, squeezing your breasts to send him a message. He was quick to pick up and followed suit, pinching your nipples right in between fingers while your ride his face to orgasm.

"Shit. I'm coming..."

  You writhed from above him as you come undone. Your body felt cold all over. Your eyes are ringing, feeling dizzy as you almost passed out while you bucked your hips a few more times to milk your release.

You didn’t have time to recover when you heard your phone ringing from outside. Your legs felt a little shaky and you almost tumbled and hit your head in the wall if Jeno didn’t help you get up. You  sat down on the floor, butt-ass naked as you frantically searched for your phone from under all of your stuff before you finally pressed the answer button.

“Yes mom?”

“Where have you been? Your father’s been looking for you at the library. He’s picking you up on your way home.”

You buried your head on the couch to shake off the buzzing feeling on your head. You placed a pillow on your body while you searched for your discarded clothes all over the hotel room.

“Oh yeah. I went to the café and got something to eat. Tell Dad I’ll meet him outside the library.”

“Okay sweetie. Can you pick up some groceries on your way back? I’ll text you the list.”

“Yeah mom. Bye.”

You breathe a sigh of relief as you started putting on the outfit that you wore when you left home.

“Where are you going?”

Jeno reluctantly got dressed as well, his shy demeanor came back as soon as he wore his glasses and fixed his hair.

“I got to go, Jeno. I’m sorry that I’m leaving in such a bad time…”

You went over to him and placed a sweet kiss on his lips.

“I promise to make it up to you next time, okay? I’d love to meet you again.”

You grabbed a paper bag from your backpack and handed it to him, waving as you bolted out the door.

After fixing his things, he sat down for a moment and took a quick peek inside the package that you left him.

It was a ziplock bag of full of cookies and a whole other treat.

You left him your two-piece lace lingerie.

To be continued.

[sorcererinthestars]

You’ve Got a Fast Car...

I’m back, bitches~~ But seriously, felt great to write again for the @rtwritingcommunity​‘s secret sunshine event! I will tag my recipient if/when I get their a-ok!

Summary: (FAHC) Michael doesn't expect a man to throw himself in front of his car and beg him to stop. This is Los Santos. Picking up hitchhikers is generally frowned upon. But this man has a pretty face and hell - he's got a fast car. What's he got to lose?

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/32969470

-

Michael knew something was seriously wrong when a man throws himself out in front of his car.

Now, his car was nothing nice, but he still doesn't want to spend the next few hours getting some fucking asshole's blood off of his front bumper. So naturally he slams on the brakes as the man - a skinny, dirty thing with wild hair - does a legitimate fucking slide across the hood of his shit Honda Civic and nearly collapses on the other side. "Oi!"

"Get out of the damn road, idiot!" Michael yells out the window in a reply, flicking him off to boot. It was late, almost 2am at this point, and he really had anything better to do than scream at some (probably high) dickbag who decided to do calisthenics in the goddamn street. But the man doesn't run away ashamed, as Michael had expected. Instead, he frantically pokes at his phone - still in the middle of the street - and Michael sits there, a bit flabbergasted.

He doesn't move.

He still doesn't move when Michael lays his entire weight on the horn, sending a blast of sound into the Los Santos night. It's not as loud or annoying as he may have wanted - LS is always loud as fuck on a Saturday evening - but it does have the intended effect of nearly making the idiot in front of his car in the middle of the street jump half out of his skin.

"SHHH!" the man gasps, comically putting his finger over his lip like he was in a cartoon and making an over-exaggerated shushing motion. Michael has to blink. He's shushing him? While standing in front of his car? Before he can say anything or shake off the disbelief that this shit had to happen to him tonight - he had to get home and clean off before his next shift at the pizza place he had reluctantly taken a job at - the man (still crazy-eyed and wild-haired) runs up to his window. At this moment, Michael really wishes he had invested in a knife, or a Tazer, or something. People had warned him about LS, but he didn't listen. He should probably learn to do that, someday.

"Listen, man," the guy says (see?) and leans forward, a massive grin on his face. He has some pretty high cheekbones. Michael blinks. "Dude, can you please just move or I'm gonna run you the fuck down."

"No, no, no, listen," the man says again, waving his hands about. "Do me a favor, will ya? If you drive me to this address -" he holds his phone up and shows an address on the outskirts of the city - "I'll give you $1,000. Right here, right now, no questions." Michael blinks and then snorts. Yeah fucking right. "I'm not an Uber."

The man shifts on both his feet, looking agitated, and glances over his shoulder. There sounds like there's some sort of commotion coming down the street and he really has to move. So Michael leans on the horn again, blasting another honk into the LS skyline.

This has the unintended effect of making the man lean further over the hood of his car, as if he could hide. Remember. This was in the middle of the goddamn street.

"Dude!"

"I'm not kidding!" the wild-eyed man says frantically. "$1500. Deposited directly into your account. I'm serious, kill me and my crew if I lie."

That was no turn of phrase Michael had ever heard, but the money does make him pause. He's... short on funds right now. Well, he's always short on funds, but this time moreso than usual. $1,500 extra would be a huge boost to the amount he currently has in the bank. He'd pay rent. He wouldn't have to borrow any more from anyone else and avoid that loan shark fucker he found online.

Before he could really think about what he was saying, he finds himself tapping the passenger seat. "Fine. Get in. I swear to god, I better see that money."

And if he dies... well. Then he still wouldn't have to worry about rent, so win-win in his mind.

With a triumphant holler, the man leaps into the car and yanks up a GPS on his phone, pointing them to drive down the street. "Thanks man! I'm Gavin." -

They're not going more than five minutes when sirens start blaring behind them. The man tenses and looks backwards out the window with a frown. "Oh shit."

Michael immediately - immediately - realizes just how much he fucked up. "What do you mean, oh shit?"

"I - uh..." The unhinged man - Gavin - stutters. "Did... Did I mention that uh... the LSPD may want to arrest me?"

"May want to what?!" Michael's voice climbs so many octaves in that last word that it makes Gavin slump down in his seat, suitably chagrined. "I ... seriously, man, I - I needed a car, a way out, I promise I'll give you the money, just please for the love of god, drive the damn car."

"Pull Over," the cop car unhelpfully calls from behind them, making Michael's bowels turn to water. Gavin's even more frantically slamming keys on his phone as they approach a major intersection. Michael keeps looking behind him, unable to slow down as the cops continue to chase them. "Gavin, seriously..."

"You're with me now, man," he replies a bit frantically. "You're in it. So either we avoid them, or you're going to jail too. Sorry."

The words fall like bricks on Michael's shoulders as he realizes that what Gavin just said was true. No cop in their right mind would believe that he - a man with a few blotches on his permanent record already - would have just accepted to pick up a hitchhiker and drive him across town at 2am for $1,500 without assuming he was a criminal. No. Any sane cop would assume he was in on it.

Because the alternative was that he was a fucking lunatic, but here we are.

Gritting his teeth, a conscious shift happens somewhere in his gut. He's a survivor. He'd get the fuck out of this, one way or the other. So, without Gavin's input and in a split second decision, he takes a sharp left and rips around the corner, sending Gavin flying against the door with a shout of surprise. "HEY!"

"Gotta avoid the cops, don't we?" Michael says with a maniacal burst of laughter, the insanity that can only be best described as hysteria. "You're the navigator, idiot, get us to where we need to be!"

The nervousness - which had appeared on Gavin's face after Michael had blown up at him - evaporated as Gavin bursts into a big smile. "Hell yeah," he hums. "Let's do this."

-

After fifteen minutes, Michael had lost all his nerves. Instead, he felt like an overinflated balloon, filled with a giddy sort of lunacy that he had never felt before as they flew down abandoned Los Santos streets. He shrieked with laughter as they slipped down the runway illuminated by neon lights and flashing red and blues, which whipped around them like a rave of their own design.

The freedom was intoxicating. Michael had taken drugs before back in New Jersey, who hadn't(?), but this was a whole different sort of high. And as soon as Gavin realized that Michael was in it with him, he had turned into an erratic demon of death, urging Michael onward with the same fire that was reflected in Michael's soul.

They flew down the streets like hedonists, shrieking with laughter and happiness as Gavin shoves his head out the sunroof to flick off the cops and shout insults.

When the first gunshot cracks through the night, Michael is sobered only for a moment. In for a penny, in for a pound. He's already here, dodging the cops, so this shit may as well happen. It's like he's in a godforsaken video game but he's not. This is real life, this is his life, and maybe he's ruining it. Maybe. But what had he not ruined in his life already? For a few moments, he could feel like he was disconnected from reality, driving so fast he could swear he could fly, a - undeniably pretty - man urging him to new, foolish lengths from the seat next to them.

And so they flew. As they approached intersections and traffic lights, Michael could see - more like sense - Gavin's own particular talents. He admits he has no abilities behind the wheel, hence begging Michael to help him, but he's able to make every traffic light change from here to the safehouse, giggling like a school kid all the while, knowing he was being naughty but that just sends them into a more frenzied set of hysterics.

It tastes like the best drug, the most collective high, the freedom that comes from knowing you're one step away from death or worse but that dangle is intoxicating. Maybe ten minutes ago he hated what was happening, but all that was gone now.

It's just the car, him, and Gavin's frantic - musical - laugh.

-

Eventually - with Gavin's GPS and eventually warm hand over his - they lose the cops. Michael has no sense of time, no concept of how long they were on the roads causing havoc, fleeing and laughing and shrieking like demons.

All he knows is that he's out in the North now and the beginning shards of sun were peeking over the horizon. He's able to slow to a manageable speed and catch his breath.

Gavin's phone rings and the man answers it. Michael can't hear what he's saying past the ringing in his ears, the result of wind whipping past his face and hours of excitement. His face is red when he meets Gavin's eyes. He closes the phone and the excitement shines bright in his eyes.

For a moment, Michael's breath is taken away. Then Gavin just points. "Top of Chilliad. Get me there." His voice is hoarse from yelling, deeper than it was, and it stirs something that Michael can't explain.

"Yes, sir," he hums teasingly. In for a penny, in for a pound, like he had said before. They start the climb up the dirt road. Once or twice, Michael doesn't think his car can make it, but the tenacious Civic crawls forward as if it knows what it had done too and felt on top of the world.

They make it to the top as the sun finally breaks over the horizon completely, blanketing the world in orange and red. When Michael finally - finally- throws the car in park and looks over at him, Gavin's grinning the biggest grin Michael has ever seen.

Before he can do anything, fuelled by adrenaline and fire and the same pure joy on Gavin's face, Michael leans over and kisses him deeply, half dragging him over the stick shift.

They kiss feverishly for a few moments, the adrenaline fading, before breaking apart and chuckling sheepishly. "I - sorry, I ..."

Gavin just winks. It's knowing. "No problem, luv," he purrs. "Does it to you, doesn't it? The chase? Makes the fire in your blood run hot." He leans forward conspiratorially. "Men weren't made to walk on their knees," he hums. "Think about it." He digs in his pocket and drops a card on the passenger seat before climbing out of the door, even as Michael tries to grab his arm and yank him back. "Gav--"

"Later, beautiful," Gavin grins, seemingly more suave and sophisticated than the man he was when he first climbed into the car. Like he was grifting and Michael was his poor, unsuspecting mark. "I'll call you. You're a great driver. Check your account." He salutes and it's then when Michael can hear the thud-thud of roters. A helicopter?

Before he can say anything, climbing frantically out of the car to watch, Gavin grabs a rope ladder hanging off the bottom of a fucking cargobob and is lifted into the air, disappearing quickly out of sight like something out of a fairy tale.

And Michael is left in the remains of the sun-drenched LS morning, with a car almost empty of gas and mysteriously $1,500 richer.

Whatever had happened to him that night in Los Santos, he knows his life will never, ever be the same.

[psychedellic-phase]

Princess (smut)

A/N: I feel like this is definitely out of character but it literally would not leave my brain. also yes they are so toxic !!! I binge wrote this at 1 am so I hope you enjoyyy

tw: arguing, cursing SMUT! Oral (male receiving), fingering, multiple orgasms, cheating & toxic relationships.

word count: 4.6 k 

masterlist

It was Thursday. I knew I’d find him where he usually is on Thursdays: that corner table at O’Malley’s, the one below the neon ‘Corona’ sign. 

I went most Thursdays, when I could, and sat at a table across the bar. It was the perfect place to watch him have two whiskeys, neat, and go home alone. 

He hadn’t noticed me yet. It’s not like I looked different, I still looked like me but he looked better and better every time I saw him. 

Was it weird to watch my ex-boyfriend that I swear I’m over from across a bar? Yes. Do I have a loving boyfriend at home waiting for me to come home every Thursday? Yes. Am I lying to this boyfriend? Yes. Am I completely over my ex like I say I am? Clearly not. Am I completely insane? Definitely. 

It’s not my fault though, Spencer Reid just had to be all consuming. Addicting. Intoxicating. A human black hole who I’d happily fall back into any given day, but he couldn’t know that. It would just feel his already overinflated ego. He could never know about how all my thoughts revolve around him. Maybe he isn’t a black hole, maybe he’s the sun, and I’m just a planet spinning around him. 

Every Thursday I tried to get up the nerve to go say Hi. And every Thursday I managed to get up the nerve the second he paid his tab and left. 

But today, that was going to change. I was going to do it, just say Hi. It shouldn’t have been scary, I did spend six months of my life with him. He knows me, much better than I’d like to admit, and I know him. But he always knew how to make me twitch. The man could make me nervous, and men never make me nervous. No one ever makes me nervous. 

I watched him as he sat, his hair longer than it had been when we were together. His suit looked the same, so did the gray cardigan and maroon tie. I vaguely remember having that exact tie around my wrists one night. He used his beautiful fingers to trace the rim of his cup, his brown hair covering his eyes lightly. His eyes, brown but hazel, like a golden green, with beautiful eyelashes I was always jealous of. They’re so long, he looks like he has mascara on.

Wait his eyes. 

Eyes?

Shit. 

I had made direct eye contact with him. 

He saw me. 

I saw him. 

Fuck. 

And now he’s walking. Towards me. Shit. Shit. Shit. 

Here he is, right in front of me. God he’s so hot.

I opened my mouth to speak, but no words came out. I just stared at him. He slid the chair across from me from out under the table without asking permission. He sat in it, whiskey in hand.

“So what exactly have you been doing here every Thursday for the last eight Thursdays, Y/N?”

I blushed lightly, but kept my composure. He knew how to make me nervous but I knew how to make him sweat. 

“O’Malley’s makes the best cosmos in DC.”

He shifted in his seat, fingers drumming on the table, “It’s a mediocre cosmo at best. You’re here for me. So here I am.”

I sat up in my seat, “Mediocre cosmo, and mediocre company.”

“Mediocre?” He chuckled darkly, “If I’m so mediocre then why have you been watching me?”

Of course he figured me out, he’s a goddamn FBI agent. God I was stupid sometimes, but only with him. It’s like every time he spoke, half of my brain flew out of my head. 

“Honestly, there isn’t much else to look at around here,” I gestured around the dingy bar, “And also, it’s been way longer than eight Thursdays. You should brush up on those observation skills, Dr. Profiler.”

His eyes darkened, “You never answered my question, Princess.”

I shuddered at the use of that nickname. I hadn’t heard it from him in a while, I just hoped he couldn’t see the effect it had on me. I evaded the question again, “The better question is why do you come here alone each week like clockwork?”

He shrugged, “Because you’re here every Thursday like clockwork.”

My mouth fell open slightly. He thought about me. I was weirdly proud of myself for that. He continued, “What? You think you were the only one watching? Please.”

I scoffed, “Then why wait so long to come over?”

“I could ask you the same question.”

I bit my lip, a dull flame forming in my belly, “I don’t come over because I have a boyfriend, and it would be inappropriate.”

He smiled, showing his beautiful white teeth, “Well that’s a lie.”

“It’s true!” I was offended. He acted as if another man would never want me, like the colossal pain the ass he always is.

“No, no, I believe the boyfriend. But the threshold of what is appropriate was passed when you lied to him for weeks just so you could get a good look at me.”

He was right. I did lie, about a lot of things and mostly to myself. God, why couldn’t I just love the nice guy? Why was it the infuriating, sexy, genius who I found myself in quicksand with?

“Stephan knows where I am.”

Another lie he’d see right through, but I didn’t care. I’d lie through my teeth if that meant that he would keep talking. God, how I missed his voice, his stupid, arrogant, beautiful voice. 

Spencer looked at me straight in the eyes then, “Does he princess? That’s sweet.”

The condescension in his voice was palpable.

“You’re still so passive aggressive,” I said, leaning back in my chair to create space between us. He leaned forward, eradicating the space I just created. 

“Yet you’re still here.”

I stood up then, feeling like the tension between us could suffocate me, “I’m getting another round. Neat?”

He nodded, “Make it a double, I think I’ll need it.”

I walked over to the bar, finally getting some air. I was already so hot, and it wasn’t from the packed bar. It was from the way his eyes looked through me, the way he said my name, the way he said ‘Princess’. I regained my composure and sauntered back over to him. Game on, Pretty Boy. 

“So how’s what’s his name? Steven?” He said, taking his new drink. 

I rolled my eyes, “It’s Stephan, but you knew that. You know everything.”

He chuckled cockily, sticking his tongue out of the corner of his mouth, “Well, how is Stephan?” He said the name with a fake posh accent, forcing me to hold back a laugh. 

“He’s wonderful,” I responded, twirling the mini umbrella from my drink between my fingers. Spencer’s dark eyes narrowed, brows furrowed, reading me like a book. The same way he always had. 

“No he isn’t,” he said matter-of-factly. 

“Wh-,” I groaned, “Spencer, I swear he’s great!”

“You haven’t gotten any better at lying.”

“And you haven’t gotten less infuriating.”

“Infuriating? Me?” He was mocking me now, I crossed my arms in defense, hoping maybe he could read that body language, and shove it where the sun doesn't shine. 

God why did he have to be like that? How did he always know exactly which buttons to press? And why did I like it? Why was I on fire from the moment he walked over?

“You were infuriating for the six months we dated, three years ago, and you’re infuriating now.”

He shrugged, “But you still like it. Some things never change, Princess.”

I blushed, knowing he was right, but not wanting to admit it, “I don’t like it. I hate it.”

He moved his chair closer to me at the table, so close I could smell him. He smelled the same way he did those years ago, and I had the same reaction. Thank god I was sitting; he made me so weak in the knees.  

Snap out of it, Y/N. I ordered myself, Think of Stephan, yes. Stephan, beautiful, boring Stephan. 

“Stephan isn’t infuriating,” I said, trying to ignore the way he licked his lips when he looked at me. God, I wanted to feel them against me. 

“Oh really? What is Stephan like?” Spencer said, using air-quotes around his name, disgust dripping from each syllable. 

“He’s nice.”

I avoided making eye contact, knowing full well how Spencer could see every lie I was about to tell. It wasn’t that Stephan was bad, he was just so, painfully, boring. If cardboard was a human being, it would’ve been Stephan. 

“Nice? That’s all?” Spencer said it with an air of amusement. 

“Well, he’s an accountant and he’s thirty-one.”

Spencer leaned close to me now, his breath smelling like whiskey and tickling my cheeks as he spoke, “Those are facts Y/N, I want to know what he’s like. Is he good to you? Does he make you happy?”

I gulped. There were the nerves. I was starting to twitch; his specialty. 

“He’s wonderful. He’s charming. I couldn’t ask for a better man.”

Spencer leaned back, crossing his legs and drinking some more, waiting for me to continue. 

“My parents love him. He’s smart, and handsome too.”

Spencer scoffed, “Your parents loved me.”

I rolled my eyes, “Well, he actually calls when he says he will, unlike you. Also unlike you, he’ll open doors for me because he isn’t scared of germs. He also doesn’t correct me every time I misspeak, instead he tells me I’m beautiful, and smart, and funny.”

We fell silent, both looking angry and defensive. He always could get to me like this. My body was hot and angry and so was his. He looked so good, it actually hurt. Could his lips be any pinker? Could his jawline be any sharper? 

“I’m waiting for the ‘but,’” He said, taking me out of my head for a moment. 

“But?”

“Yeah, what’s his fatal flaw Y/N?”

“Flaw? He has none. He’s literally perfect.”

“Perfect?”

“Yes!” I snapped. 

“No one’s perfect. What’s his flaw?” 

“None!”

Spencer kept badgering me, “What is it? Tell me, Princess. Tell me. Tell me what it is, you know you want to.”

It felt like a dam that was inside me had been broken, water and the truth pouring out at once, “He isn’t you!”

Spencer leaned back and smiled, “There it is.”

“Stephan is kind and gentle. We don’t scream, or fight. I don’t stay up crying and yelling and cursing! But he isn’t you, and I wish he was.” I gasped for air, not realizing I hadn’t been breathing, “There! Are you happy now?!”

Spencer was grinning, just like usual, “Very.”

I rolled my eyes, “Your turn.”

He raised his eyebrows and pointed to himself, “My turn?”

“Yeah, why have you been alone the last three years Reid? We both know you can have anyone in this place. Hell, Red over there has been eyeing you up for the last hour,” I gestured to the girl a few tables away who had been stealing glances at Spencer. An action that totally didn’t make my blood boil, at all, not even a little. 

He avoided my gaze now, “You know why.”

Now I had the power back. I got close to Spencer, so only he could hear me. All my reservations were gone, I was in the black hole. The fire in my body that I hadn’t felt for so long was finally back, “I want to hear you say it.”

He got even closer, lips barely a millimeter apart, “Just like he isn’t me, no woman alive will ever be you.”

I smiled, proud of the confession. I pulled back. As much as I wanted him right now, right here on this sticky bar table, I am no cheater, and though I forgive, I never forget. 

“Another difference between you and Stephan is that he won’t break my heart.”

Spencer smirked, “He can’t break your heart, because you feel nothing for him. There’s no love to lose.”

I sighed and ceded, “You’re right.”

“Always am.”

A comfortable silence followed, and my head was spinning. I don’t know if it was from the cosmos or from Spencer. He tended to do that to me. We both had softened. I was sad, because I knew it would never work. As much as I wanted it to, it wouldn’t. It didn’t three years ago. I just needed to live with it. You need more than passion to make it work. Hell, if all you needed was passion, Spencer and I would be growing old together right now. 

“This isn’t healthy, you know?”

Spencer nodded, all aggression faded away, “I know.”

“This will never work.”

“I know.”

“No I mean like never.”

Spencer gave me a half smile, “You don’t have to convince me. I know.”

I sighed, reaching out to hold his hand in the most platonic way possible. His skin was warm. I missed the way it felt under mine. 

“I just wish it would.”

He smiled sadly now, big brown eyes meeting mine and looking through me into my soul, “So do I, Princess.”

I laughed, “And stop calling me princess!”

“Or what, Princess?” He said it flirtatiously, his hand squeezing mine.

“Or I won’t be able to stop.”

“Stop what, Princess?”

“Stop myself from kissing you right now.”

He leaned in, lips barely an inch apart again, “Then don’t.”

And with that our lips touched softly, before we parted. The kiss was familiar but foreign. I’d felt it a million times before, but this one was different because the feelings were different. We stared at each other, before I stood, holding his hand. 

“Follow me,” I said, the fire in my belly mixing with the delightful throb in my core. All reservations were gone. I needed him. I needed him right now, or I felt like I might explode. 

He held my hand as we maneuvered between the crowd and ended up in front of the bathroom.

“Bathroom? Y/N there’s so many germs that’s-”

I had to cut him off by grabbing his shirt and pulling him into me. Our lips found each other so easily, like second nature. His were soft but chapped, I missed the way they felt on the rest of my body. I pulled him into the stall, and he pressed me up against a wall. His rough hands roamed my figure, landing on my hips and squeezing there. I pressed my hips into him, relishing the feeling. My hands found his hair, tugging at the roots to beckon his mouth open. He obliged, tongue moving across my lower lip and tangling with mine. Every movement sent twinges of pleasure to my core. 

When we broke apart, he looked at me, his light brown eyes seeming impossibly dark with lust, the same darkness that they held just minutes before. 

“Please, bedroom, not here,” He begged, and I silently agreed, peeling myself off of him.

I dropped a fifty on the table before stumbling out into the street for a cab. His hands never left my body, and his lips found mine every chance they got. 

In the back of the cab he was on top of me, squeezing the flesh of my butt as I left butterfly kisses and sucked on his neck. 

We showed up to my apartment, and ran inside. He pressed me up against the elevator door.  “Princess, I need you,” he whined, making me moan into his lips.

“Soon, so so soon, fuck.”

I fumbled with my keys, but soon we were inside.

“Bedroom,” he ordered before crashing his lips against mine again, this time even more feverishly, if that was physically possible. I stumbled backwards in the general vicinity of my room, not wanting to break apart from him for even a moment. He pressed his large hand into my back, steadying me for a moment and took his lips off mine. 

I whimpered, immediately missing the warmth of him on me. 

“Lead the way, princess.”

I smiled wide at the use of that pet name. It always sent an extra jolt of pleasure to my center when Spencer whispered it. 

Grabbing his hand I found the bedroom door. Before we even crossed the threshold his hands were on my body again, this time under my dress looking for panties to peel off.  

“No panties? Were you waiting for this Princess?”

I nodded and groaned as I kissed him, moving my lips down and across his sharp jaw, flicking my tongue out every once in a while and sucking lightly on spots. Just enough for him to moan, but not enough for a mark. I felt my knees hit the mattress of my bed and I fell back onto it, Spencer towering over me. 

I pulled my dress off, throwing it and my bra far away. I needed him to touch me. Now. 

His hands were cold on my chest, making my hardened nipples even harder. He pinched the buds lightly, making me arch my back into his body. 

He snickered, “Patience is a virtue, Princess.”

I groaned and pulled at his shirt, telling him I wanted it gone. 

“Too many clothes,” I mumbled against his chest as I kissed whatever skin I could reach. He did as I wished, and I sat up on my elbows to watch. His muscles contracting as he pulled it off was enough to force me to rub my thighs together, desperate for any feeling. He undid his belt too, letting his pants fall to the floor and stepping out of them. His boxer briefs left little to the imagination, not that I was complaining. The light gray material was darkened in one spot from where his precum was dripping. 

“Come back, Sir,” I begged.

His hands were on my shoulders and pushed me back so he could be on top of me again. The feeling of his chest against mine was maddening. I could also feel his member on my thigh, so close to my dripping heat, but still so far away. He distracted me with another kiss, his teeth coming out to bite my bottom lip. I moaned at the slight pain, running my hands all over his bare back. He worked his way from my lips to my jaw, leaving butterfly kisses in his wake. It drove me wild. I was bucking up into him, nails digging into his skin, sure to leave pretty red marks in their wake. He then made his way to my ear, sucking on the lobe ever so slightly. 

“You know, the ears are an under-appreciated erogenous zone,” he said between nibbling and sucking on my ear and the skin around it. 

“S-Spence,” I let out a breathy moan. Everything he did sent me reeling, clawing into his back begging for more. He really did drive me insane. His hand was back on my breast now, one arm was holding him up while the other pinched and played with my nipples. 

As he kissed and sucked the soft skin of my neck I did the same to whatever skin I could reach. I sucked on his shoulder, right where it meets the collarbone, appreciating how his skin was a little salty. 

I took one hand from his back and slid it between us, reaching down and toying with the waistband of his boxers. 

“Princess,” he moaned right in my ear as I reached in and pumped his hard cock twice, flicking my thumb over the tip to smear around his precum. 

He sat up, kneeling on either side of my thighs and I took that as my chance to pull the boxers down just enough for the pink head to bob out. I looked up at him through my eyelashes, his skin was covered in a sheen of sweat and his hair was covering his eyes, sticking to his forehead in some parts. He gave you a slight nod, and I sat up, immediately taking my tongue from base to tip. 

He took in a sharp breath as I took the tip of my tongue into the slit at the head of his cock, collecting what had formed there. It was salty, but I didn’t mind. The taste was familiar. I selfishly went down to lightly suck on his balls, squeezing the one not getting any attention with my free hand. He sighed, hands tangling through my hair, tugging at the root. 

I pushed on his stomach, “Lay down, I want to suck you right.”

I didn’t need to ask him twice. In a matter of moments I was straddling him, taking the head and sucking on it gently. 

“Fuuuck,” he whined, “You give the best head princess.”

I smiled around his cock as I took it inch by inch into my mouth. My hands took whatever I couldn’t fit and I started at an agonizingly slow pace. Speeding up as his grip on my hair got tighter. 

He moaned in approval, a slew of curse words and praises I could barely hear. I was just focused on swirling my tongue around his cock as he buried it in my throat. He bucked his hips in an attempt to face fuck me, and I allowed it. The head brushed against the farthest point in my throat, causing me to gag, saliva dripping down the sides of my face. 

“You look so pretty when you gag on me Princess.”

I hummed around him in pleasure, toying with his balls again, begging him to cum in my mouth.  Hearing him moan just made me more of a mess. 

He tugged on my hair slightly, “No way, I’m cumming on those pretty tits.”

I smiled up at him and wiped off my mouth. Spencer caught me in another kiss, this one much more loving and tender than the previous ones. He cupped my face and stroked my cheek. 

His free hand came between my bodies in the same move I had used on him, this time his lithe fingers rubbing my clit lightly, but only for a moment. 

The kiss deepened into a full on teenage make-out, our naked bodies grinding against each other. I had never been so desperate in my life, wetness dripping down my thighs. His hands were on my ass, pinching and squeezing. 

“Touch me,” I begged between kisses. 

“Lay down Princess.”

We swapped positions again and I moved up the bed to lean on some pillows. 

He kissed me, hand moving deftly to my aching core. He took the tip of his middle finger and swiped between my lips. 

I shuddered at the touch, but it was taken away so quickly. 

He leaned to my ear, his hot breath tickling my skin as he placed that same finger in my mouth. I sucked on it greedily, “So wet for me already Princess.”

He nipped at my ear lobe again, causing me to buck my hips up at him. He put his face just over mine, looking deeply into my eyes as he took one finger and put it all the way in. 

I groaned happily at the contact, closing my eyes to savor it. 

“Eyes open. Watch me.”

I opened my eyes, just as he added a second finger, curling them to find my g spot. I opened my mouth to moan but no sound came out. The pleasure of him in me was rippling throughout my touch-starved  body. 

“More Spencer, please ah- fuck- more!” I yelped. His free hand came up to my breast, kneading it and my nipple again. I moaned louder, more guttural this time. His fingers never stopped even as I clawed at his skin. My nails dragged along his back and my eyes never left his. 

If my eyes looked anything like his, then they were clouded with lust and immense pleasure. 

“Spence—“ I gasped as he added his thumb to circle my clit. 

It felt intoxicating, like I was high on all the drugs at once. The vision of his perfect face went black at the edges, that feeling I missed so much forming in my stomach. He’s the only one who could give it to me.

“Use your words Princess,” he cooed, flicking his tongue between his lips. 

“D-Don’t stop I’m close.”

He took this as a signal to go faster, his hands moving in ways I  didn’t think possible. His thumb rubbed rough figure eights over my clit that was slick from my own wetness. When my breathing quickened and I tightened around him he knew I was close, leaning in to kiss me gently as I rode out my orgasm. 

I moaned loudly into his mouth as the rubber band snapped, tingling and pulsing around his fingers.  He coaxed me through it, milking me for everything I had. When he removed his hand and licked me off of his fingers, I whined. I needed something to fill me up; I  needed him to fill me up. I felt so empty without him there. 

“Want me to fuck you, princess?” He asked, his hands coming up to brush the hair out of my face. 

“More than anything,” I managed out, still feeling delirious from the first orgasm. 

“Your wish is my command,” and with that he placed his tip inside of me, moving slowly to allow me to adjust to him. 

“Ah fuck,” we both groaned simultaneously. 

“You’re so tight,” he muttered, finally filling me to the hilt and waiting for my signal to tell him to start. 

“Fuck me, Spencer Reid, fuck me like you mean it,” I burst, and he did. 

At first he started slowly, only moving a few inches in and out. I jerked my hips up, wanting to feel more. He thrusted in and out of me wildly, his hair bouncing with every motion and sweat dripping down his face. 

I relished every movement, using my hands to tangle through his hair and my lips to suck on his neck as he leaned over me. He withdrew almost completely, then pounded back into me, the pain causing me to hiss. 

The room was filled with primal, animal-like moans and the sound of skin slapping against skin. I reached up and put two fingers in his mouth, which he licked with gusto knowing exactly what I was going to do with them. I mimicked his rough figure eights on my clit, wanting to cum with him. 

“I’m close princess,” he panted, “Can I cum on those pretty tits?”

I just nodded, unable to find words as we climbed the mountain to our orgasms together. After a few more strokes he pulled out and brought himself to his orgasm, cumming all over my chest with a sigh. He flopped down next to me, overexerted. I continued circling and my own orgasm came seconds later and much less intense than the one he had given me prior. 

Spencer stood up and grabbed a few tissues, wiping the fluid off my chest. When I was cleaned up I snuggled up against him, face to face. 

“Are we going to talk about this?” He panted, still regaining his breath. He gingerly moved some hair from my face.

I sighed, “You know I’m never going to stop loving you?”

He smiled, “You know I’m never going to stop loving you too, Princess?”

Saying those words again took the weight of the last three years off my shoulders, but deep down I still had doubts.

“We won’t work.”

My voice cracked and tears were threatening my eyes.

He kissed my cheek, and pulled me against him, “We don’t know unless we try and I promise to be less infuriating this time, Princess.”

I turned so our lips met, “So let’s try.”

[peterprkrsbtch]

sapphire - part 2

Peter Parker x reader

A/n: Part 1 is up on my page! There’s a couple flashbacks in this one so I put the dates before so it doesn’t get confusing. If you enjoy this one, like or reblog to share! I already wrote part 3 and it’s my favorite one yet so that’ll def be up soon :)

tag- @juliannaamonroe​

Warnings: swearing, make out, violence

(September 1)

We’re one minute away. Come out hoe!

You smile as you read the text, glancing at yourself in the mirror again, nerves and excitement ablaze in your stomach. You’d been planning for this day since last winter, and now it was finally here. You adjust your carefully styled hair and double check that the natural makeup you applied was sitting on your skin correctly.

Of course it was. That goddamn injection sometimes made you feel like a vampire out of twilight and sometimes you still got surprised when you saw your own face while passing a mirror or a particularly reflective window. You smooth down the ruffles of your short black skirt and tug the top of your tank top down so a bit more of your curves show.

You put on your white sneakers and tug your shirt back up to cover your chest again. We’ll have to work up to that, I guess. A long honk sounds from outside your apartment building and you curse as you scramble to grab your backpack and phone before running down and out the front steps.

“Awwww,” You say sweetly at the sight of the two girls who had become your best friends. “That’s the shirt you were wearing when we met, Ally.” You jokingly brush away a tear, pretending to be ultra touched.

“Best damn day of my life.” Ally says from her spot in the drivers seat, laughing at your dramatics. She may be joking around, but her sentiment makes your heart clench. This year really was going to be different.

***

(July 3)

You quickly realized you needed to find some Midtown friends if your plan for senior year was going to work. If you dared to show up looking, well, like you do, completely alone and friendless, you might become even more of an outcast than you were before. The first month of summer had been the least lonely time of your year so far, thanks to a certain Spiderman.

The two of you spent most of your nights together, flying through the city, fighting crime together, and talking. The “slow” nights that used to fill you with boredom quickly became your favorite when he was involved. The sound of his laugh and the jokes he makes during fights quickly became the highlight of your days.

But you couldn’t let yourself get too distracted by him. After all, neither of you knew what the other looked like. The only other boy you’d ever found remotely cute (other than celebrities) was nerdy Peter Parker from your high school. He wasn’t your usual type and he seemed to be just as shy as you were, so you had little (zero) hope that it would ever lead to anything more than a smile during the hallway if you accidentally made eye contact.

Sorry Spiderman, but no way in hell are you gonna make me lose my focus. The loneliness you had felt through the last three years of high school was too much. Your plan had to work. So that night as the two of you patrolled together, you softly mentioned that you were going to a pool party tomorrow and wouldn’t be able to meet.

He seemed a bit disappointed, but you brushed it off, trying to remember the names of the girls at your school who seemed nice. Peter, however, couldn’t focus on anything other than the fact that you had told him where you would be tomorrow. There was only so many pool parties in a city like New York.

You tried not to think about who was under the Spiderman mask out of respect and, to be honest, it seemed like a pointless endeavor. Peter was not the same. No matter how tired he was from patrol, he always had time to lay awake before he fell asleep and picture what you would look like under the mask.

There wasn’t very many people who understood Peter’s secret life. None, actually, until you. Maybe that was why he was so intrigued by you, because you were so similar, but in his heart he knew that wasn’t it. He liked you. And he hated himself for it. But once you mentioned the pool party, he made sure to take one long last glance at the color of your hair before you two said goodbye. Just in case he happened to see that same hair tomorrow.

(July 4)

You were so, so nervous. Your closet of exclusively sweats and hoodies was trashed as Part 1 of your plan, much to your mother’s happiness. She had always been honest about her hatred of your junior year clothes and was extremely excited to purchase everything you needed. As distant as she was, you had to give her a little credit.

Although you’d been wearing the new clothes for the past month, this was the first time you were doing it so publicly. Your denim shorts exposed miles of smooth leg, and you’d decided to wear a red tube top in honor of the holiday-not to mention it really showed off your curves. You’d meticulously done your hair and makeup like you’d been practicing the past month and prayed that somebody would talk to you today.

You’d seen the flyer for the Fourth of July party on Instagram, which had been step 2. Unfortunately, you had two followers. Your mom and her boyfriend. Step 2 is a work in progress.

One long walk later, and you’re in front of the address. You swear you could explode of nerves right there, but instead you take a deep breath and force your legs to carry you inside the house and towards the people out by the pool.

Your eyes are so focused on your destination, the glass sliding door, that you barely notice when you bump shoulders with someone, causing you to drop your phone.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry. I wasn’t looking where I was going.” You say, reaching down to grab your phone.

“Oh my god, stop. That was totally my fault.” You stand back up to see the girl who was speaking, and you recognize her immediately. Her name is Ally, and she’s a part of the most popular group at school. Despite her long black hair and sweet smile, you haven’t heard many good things about her. Not the type of person you were looking for.

“Do you go to Midtown? I don’t think I’ve seen you around.” Ally says, making no move to walk away from the conversation.

“Yeah, actually. My name is Y/n?” You don’t miss the way her eyebrows raise and her eyes widen with confusion and shock. You’re embarrassed now, realizing maybe you weren’t as invisible as you’d thought. In an effort to explain away the last few years, “My dad left a couple years ago and it was pretty hard on me, but I’m all better now.” You flash the most dazzling smile you can manage and hope she accepts it.

“No way, mine did too!” She gasps as she grabs your hands. You feel a small pang of guilt at that. It was a lie, you had no idea who your dad was and frankly, you didn’t think your mom knew either.

The conversation starts to flow between you and Ally easily as you make your way out to the pool. “This is my best friend Betty.” Ally introduces you to the sweet-as-pie girl and the three of you quickly fall into a conversation like you’d known each other forever. A few of their guy friends tried to come up and talk to you, but she just waved them away. “Leave us alone, we just met our new best friend.”

You felt bad for judging Ally so harshly earlier, blindly trusting the stupid rumors you’d heard about her. Popular or not, the three of you got along better than any of the other friends you’d tried to make throughout your life. They do briefly make fun of your instagram before forcing you to take and post pictures with the two of them by the pool. They both tag your account.

Peter didn’t seem to share the good luck you did. He’d dragged Ned to 6 different pool parties across the city and saw no one who looked like Sapphire. Disappointed, he spent the night patrolling alone and dodging fireworks.

***

(September 1)

Since that day, you’d become a trio with Ally and Betty. The day after the pool party you’d woken up to nearly 1,000 followers on your instagram. Everyone from Midtown who never gave you a second look when you had your hood shoved over your head now wanted to be your friend.

The three of you spent the rest of your summer days together, and you fit into the popular friend group better than you could have imagined. Maybe you watched too many teen movies, but you expected them to be mean. The only mean one was Flash, and even he was basically harmless. You’d given up Saturday night patrols with Spiderman for a weekly girls night with your new best friends. You thought having new friends and a bustling social life would’ve made it easier to forget about Spiderman, but somehow he seeped into every area of your life.

That damn laugh. As Ally and Betty sing along to the radio loudly, you bite your lip to stop a dumb smile from rising to your lips. God, just thinking about him made you flustered. As Ally drives into the school parking lot, nerves bubble in your stomach.

As if you aren’t stressed enough, your brain decides this is the perfect moment to remind you of the one night this summer you and Spiderman haven’t talked about since.

*** (August 14)

The two of you were sprawled out on a gravel rooftop next to each other. Not the most comfortable of relaxing spots, but you’d both grown tired of flying around under the summer heat with no hint of trouble for miles.

“This sucks.” Spiderman huffs out.

“Rude.” You reply quickly, even though you know he isn’t talking about you.

“Oh, no,” He immediately sits up. “I didn’t mean you suck, I just meant, you know, because there’s not much going on right now and it’s hot and-” He sees your cheeky smile and stops himself with a laugh. “Sorry.”

“No, it’s cute.” You bite your lip. The fuck did I just say? Before you can begin to explain, he jumps to his feet.

“Spidey sense, let’s go!” You jump up too and follow after him as he jumps off the building. Thank god. I’ve never been so grateful that someone’s in trouble. The fight was tough, even with the both of you. These men had strange guns that keep firing at you and Spiderman even though you’d tried multiple times to crush them with your powers.

“The guns are magic-proof! I can’t destroy them!” You yell over to Spiderman as you take down one of the men in between punches.

Somehow, two men get ahold of their guns and corner you. Just as you start levitating to fly over them, a web shoots from somewhere behind them and the men and their guns are yanked away. Spiderman wastes no time and you swear he seems angry with the two men as he webs them to the wall next to their friends before picking up the guns and violently smashing them on the ground.

You’re still frozen in shock, watching him. When he seems to be satisfied with the broken pile of guns on the floor, he runs back over to you. “I’m so sorry, I know we promised-” You finally break out of whatever trance you were in to place a finger over his lips, casting a disgusted glance towards the men staring at you from their webbed cocoons.

“Not here.” You say quietly, and fly the two of you quickly up to the roof. He blinks for a second, his head spinning from the speed. You rarely use your full speed, especially with him, but you had to get out of there. “Okay, go ahead.” You say after a second of silence.

“I’m so sorry, I know we agreed not to get in each other’s way, and I know you can handle yourself, probably better than I can. Hold on, I didn’t mean I handle you. That sounded weird. Anyways, I just got so angry when I saw those men pointing their guns at you I had to-” He’s talking about the agreement you two had made when you first started working together. You both obviously were skilled, so you agreed that you wouldn’t interrupt each other’s fights unless asked.

“Spidey, I really don’t care you interrupted. It was hot.” JESUS CHRIST NOT AGAIN. You immediately winced and slap a hand over your mouth. “Oh my god I did NOT mean to say that I’m so sorry.”

Your rambling is cut off as Spiderman’s hand travels up to the bottom of his mask and you think your eyes might fall out of your head with how wide they become as he begins to pull it up, revealing the soft pale skin of his neck.

His jaw, chin, and then lips become visible as he lets the mask rest on his nose. The 0.5 seconds that have passed since you stopped talking feel like an eternity until he suddenly leans forward, crashing his lips into yours. Spiderman is an amazing kisser, you decide, as you gently kiss him back.

WHAT AM I DOING? Your mind is going haywire but instead of stopping, you deepen the kiss and nearly smile when he lets out a low moan. Everything you’ve told yourself about focus and distractions flies out the window when his gloved hands clutch your waist and pull you closer to him than you thought possible.

It feels like it’s only been a second when he pulls away, but your eyes flicker to his swollen lips and you know it must have been longer. You smile as you stare at his lips, only inches from yours, but as your gaze moves to the rest of his exposed skin the smile drops slowly.

Your rational mind comes back. It’s easy to forget when you’re with him that you’ve only known each other a couple months. How could you do this? Your first time making out with a boy, and he doesn’t even know your name.

“We shouldn’t be doing this.” You whisper as he starts to say something.  “Sorry, what were you going to say?” He blinks slowly and takes a deep breath before stepping away from you.

“Nevermind. See you tomorrow.” And he swings away from you. You silently curse yourself for being such a big mouth, wanting to know what he would have said. You can’t help the small voice in the back of your head, telling you that you made the wrong decision.

You raise your hand to run your fingers along your tingling lips before flying home as fast as you can.

***

(September 1)

You wince at the painful memory before reminding yourself everything was back to normal the next day and neither of you mentioned it again. You still weren’t sure if that was good or bad. You force all thoughts of Spiderman out of your brain and even give Ally an encouraging cheer when she successfully parks on her first try.

You don’t remember Midtown having so many fucking students last year, but maybe it was because they were all staring at you. Any confidence you’d had as you opened Ally’s car door had disappeared as everyone around you turned to gawk. The bright smile you’d pasted on a second ago quickly fell and you glanced at Ally nervously.

“Come on, girls!” She says enthusiastically, grabbing an arm from you and Betty as she breaks the brief moment of awkward silence. God bless you Ally. As the three of you hoist your bags over your shoulders and make your way into the school, you mouth a quick thank you her way, hoping she can see your genuine appreciation. She smiles at you. “I’m happy we’re going into this year as three instead of two.”

Betty leans forward to smile at you. “Me too, y/n. I’m really happy you’re here.”  You smile back brightly. There really was no one as sweet as Betty.

“You won’t be so happy I’m here when I talk your ear off during class.” The three of you continue laughing and joking your way down the hall to stop at your lockers.

“Oh my god, is that Y/n?” Ned interrupts Peter’s latest ramble about his night with Sapphire. Usually, he really did listen. Ned was fully invested in the superhero love story, as he called it, unfolding. But the sight of a girl notorious for hiding in her own baggy clothes across the hall in a miniskirt and tank top was more important.

“Y/n?” Peter asks, confused why Ned wasn’t paying attention. But when he turned around to see what Ned was staring at, he understood. He’d seen you around school the past three years, but never like this.

You looked like a fucking model. And everyone in the hall couldn’t help but stare. “Holy shit.”

“Right, dude?” Ned breathes out, the two of them shamelessly staring. “Why didn’t that happen to me over summer? Oh my god, of course she’s friends with Betty.”

Peter laughs as his best friend goes on about “two pretty best friends” but he can’t take his eyes off of you. The light in your eyes as you joke with your friends, making them double over in laughter, feels strangely familiar. Or maybe that’s wishful thinking on his part because you’re extremely pretty.

He watches in surprise as you and Ally walk up to the AP Chem classroom, waving goodbye to Betty sadly as she heads off to English. You turn to walk into the classroom after Ally, but you pause and look back down the hallway-right at him. Instead of yelling at him for being a creep like he expected, you smile at him widely before heading into the class. He exhales deeply and glances down at his schedule quickly, a smile appearing. AP Chem.

Of course his thoughts are still consumed by Sapphire, but it was hard to ignore you especially after seeing his name on the seating chart next to yours in the back row. Plus, Sapphire was the one who’d shot him down after he finally tried to make a move after catching onto the hints he thought she’d been dropping.

He felt bad for thinking that about her, he didn’t blame her at all. He knew there was a million reasons they shouldn’t be together-and he didn’t want to know specifics on why he wasn’t good enough. Sapphire hadn’t brought up that night since, and he was fine to pretend it never happened.

You were already in your seat at the lab table, but Ally was still standing next to you waving her hands wildly as you two spoke. He doesn’t want to interrupt so he freezes in place, unsure of whether or not to go sit down. He’d thought you were cute, and a little shy like him in freshman and sophomore year and he remembered the many times he would look at you from across the room like he is now.

His eyes had been quick to find you whenever you two were in the same room ever since the first day of school freshman year when you smiled at him in the hall. Even last year, when all he saw of you was a curled up lump at your desk or a sliver of hair peeking out from behind your hood he still noticed you.

Luckily for him, the bell rings and he slides into his seat just as the teacher begins speaking. “Hi, Peter.” You lean over to him, your shoulders nearly touching, and whisper so the teacher doesn’t hear. “I’m y/n.” You smile warmly as his cheeks and ears turn light pink.

“You don’t have to introduce yourself. We’ve gone to school together since we were 6?” Now it’s your turn to be embarrassed and you purse your lips together.

“No, I know, just-” Peter notices you seem a bit frustrated as you glance around the room and then lean even closer to him. “Everybody thinks I’m new.” You nervously mess with your bracelet.

“You do look a bit different.” He points out and you raise your eyebrows before sighing slowly and shrugging.

“I was just sick of feeling invisible, you know. Not because I care what anyone here thinks. Last year was just, really, really lonely.” Peter watches you intently as you speak, hanging onto your every word.

Your confession made him sad. If only he’d been brave enough to ask if you were okay. You pause for a second and meet his eyes. Any other guy in this school would’ve laughed at you by now. You gesture to your outfit and nervously adjust your skirt. “I’m also not a superficial person. It wasn’t about changing how I looked, I just needed the confidence to put myself out there.” You pause and nod towards Ally with a smile. Peter glances over to Ally and sees her blow you a kiss, which you catch across the room with a giggle.

I miss you! She mouths with a dramatic frown and this time Peter laughs quietly with you. “I thought she was a bitch before I met her.” He looks at you with surprise to find you smiling at him. “But,” you hold up a finger for dramatic effect, “because I put myself out there, I met my best friends. A lot of people around here judge on appearances. I’m not like that anymore.” You say with confidence.

“That’s really cool of you.” Peter whispers back, and the sound sends an involuntary shiver down your spine. He’s so close to you and the feelings you thought you left behind two years ago don’t seem so left behind as you stare into his warm eyes. “For the record, I’d be your friend no matter what you look like.”

Peter has only been this nervous a couple times before in his life, and he can’t help but feel like he’s betraying Sapphire with the way he’s thinking about you. He watches as you smile warmly at his words and extend your hand towards his.

“Friends? Even though I'm so much uglier now?” You pout your bottom lip out, a smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. He nearly laughs out loud and has to remind himself you’re still in class. “I know guys go wild for the homeless man sweatpants look.” You’re both trying to hold back your laughter, shaking silently in the back of the class as he raises his hand and grabs yours.

“Friends.” Peter isn’t sure why he keeps going, but he does. “And just so you know, you were never ugly. I don’t know why you tried so hard to hide yourself last year, but even then,” the words leaving his mouth sound confident but Peter takes a deep breath before looking up from his lap to meet your eyes. Your wide eyes and surprised smile give him just the confidence he needs to finish. “You could never be ugly.” Peter can hear his heart beating.

You blink at him. This boy could not be real. Here he was, basically implying that the one thing you had wanted all along, for somebody to notice you, was true. Not only was it true, but it was Peter fucking Parker telling you this. Despite everything that had changed you in the past year, the giddy feeling in your bones brought you back to sophomore year and pining over Peter.

“Really?” Your smile spreads and he seems to let out a deep breath of relief.

“Yeah.” He smiles back at you until your sweet moment is interrupted by a fat ass syllabus dropping onto the lab table in front of you.

“Fuck,” you whisper. “This class is gonna be so much homework.” You turn the page so Peter can briefly see the list of projects alone, and it’s enough to make him cringe.

Something about the way the whispers travel back and forth between you all class makes you realize you hadn’t fallen into a friendship this easily, even with Ally. Even with Spiderman, your brain points out.

A red and blue suit swings into your mind and you are hit with a wave of guilt. Not two hours ago I was thinking about my make out with Spiderman, and now I’m comparing him to Peter? 

You have all but one class together, and you can’t help but glance in Peter’s direction any chance you get. The only time you don’t see him is at lunch, even though you look all around the lunch room for him or the boy he’d been standing with this morning. You thought it would be too creepy to ask him where he’d been.

Finally, the last bell of the day rang, and you were sure if you didn’t have superpowers you would’ve been exhausted. School is kinda draining when you actually acknowledge people. Ally and Betty share your complaints about being tired on your drive home, all three of you agreeing you need naps. You kiss them both on the cheek and wave goodbye before heading up to your room.

Forget what I said about having superpowers. I’m fucking tired. You lay down on your bed, groaning into the pillow at the thought of having to patrol tonight. You sat up abruptly. You’d never dreaded patrol, it was always the thing you looked forward to. You glance towards the suit in your closet and sigh.

It’s not patrol I’m nervous about. It’s him. You feel incredibly guilty about today. I’m not a two timer. If I want to like Peter, I have to talk to Spiderman about that kiss first. You start to make your way over to the closet before another wave of exhaustion hits, sending you straight back to your bed.

After a nap. Then we’ll talk.

[katsuflossy]

Their S/o Doing the Sweeney Todd challenge with Them

Pairings: Bakugo x reader, Todoroki x reader, Kaminari Denki x reader, Sero Hanta x reader

A/N: So sorry for not dropping any content this week. College is super time consuming and as I said before I hardly have time to wipe my ass. But I hope you guys enjoy this lil thang 😁

Taglist: @sunset-novice-writer @goatsenpaiultimate

💥 Oh, brother,...may the element of surprise help you with this one.

💥 The last time you did a TikTok around him you had the nerve “accidentally” hit him with your bag. Mans almost skinned your ass if you didn’t pay him in a bunch of hugs and all the sorts.

💥 So you decide to do the kissing Sweney Todd challenge with him at the table. You propped your phone and mans was not having it knowing that you’re doing another Tiktok around him.

💥 “(Y/n) put that phone down, I ain’t fucking doing it.”

💥“Please Kastu, this one isn't as bad as the last one.” 

💥 “I don’t fucking care I don’t want to be in your Tiktok shitty woman-” Little did he know you already set the timer and the song began as he was yapping his mouth off. 

💥 The first kiss had the man looking like a freeze-frame. He said: 

💥 After every kiss, his tomato face percentage raised higher. And then the lyrics I- do you want his heart to go into cardiac arrest.

💥 Could’ve been a game fr: How red can the Katsuki turn.

💥 The goo-goo eyes you’re sending him ain’t helping either.

💥 After the Tiktok ran out, mans was still on the mannequin challenge (ugh 2016 come back 2020 is mad ghetto)

💥 He turns to you, blush subsided to only his cheeks and ears, and said:

💥 “Well, why’d ya stop? You missed a couple lyrics the first time.”

🧊 He’s an old man. Denki had to download Tiktok for him (he ain’t got no privacy settings in goddamn phone at all so Denki went straight to download it and some other stuff 👀)

🧊 His fyp lacks so much flavor like 😷 

🧊 You had to step in to manage the account.

🧊 “Shouto, where’s the flavor in this? i don’t taste anything! i don’t taste sugar, honey, cinnamon, nutmeg-”

🧊 So when you set up the phone and told him to get into the frame, he thought it was just one of those “put a finger down” vids he’s seen. 

🧊 Show this man some black tiktok creators please 😑

🧊 Three stages he goes through when you’re pecking his cheek, the one right under the scar

🧊 Stage 1: Freeze frame, stage 2: He actually freezes...like his other check had ice attached to it. And stage 3: He blushes and returns one peck back while you’re saying the last parts of the song. 

🧊 Shoto, stahp you make my heart be on x games mode.

🧊 You post it and the comments are either coping over the cuteness of the vid or simping over Shoto EVEN THOUGH you’re literally kissing the boy

🧊 Consider privating it.

🎆 He’s friends with Denki bro he knows Tiktok 

🎆 But all the training he’s doing he can hardly keep up with new trends unless its the super popular ones Denki rounds up everyone to do.

🎆 You said you want to do a Tiktok, he doesn’t care but he’ll do anything for you

🎆 The music start and the man already know this shit sounds familiar.

🎆 Started smirking like Sweeney Todd himself while staring at you pecking his cheek.

🎆 After all them pecks, he turns to you slowly, looking you straight in the eye before pulling you into a hot  makeout session.

🎆 While he pounced on you, boy knocked over the phone. The phone was still recording after and all the camera could see was Hitoshi’s purple hair.

🎆 Comments kept saying yall took that shit to the bedroom 👀 ...I’ll leave it up to your imagination.

⚡️ Man stop playing wit my boy. He on straight tiktok, alt tiktok, black tiktok and the rest.

⚡️ So he knew it was the Sweney Todd sound as soon as that first note hit.

⚡️ I hc he knows tiktok sounds by the first beat and has never been incorrect once. 

⚡️ You couldn’t even reach his cheek because he turned his head to meet you in a nice smooch.

⚡️ Girl you’re so  shocked, couldn’t even finish the whole challenge so he took over for you.

⚡️ Lip syncing the song perfectly, pecking your lips the exact moments when he should and giving you award-winning acting at the end of it. While you’re still in a state of shock.

⚡️ Hold up… ain’t this supposed to be your tiktok?

⚡️ Doesn’t matter because you posted it and now y’all are at the top of the sound 😊.

🩹 Mans versed in his TikTok. 

🩹 Like Denki, his fyp is just a jump from one section of tiktok to the next.

🩹 Sooo yeah he knows the Sweeney Todd sound

🩹 You had to catch him at the right time cause he’s one that doesn’t like to do tiktoks (Kaminari always ropes him in tho)

🩹 He’s lying on the couch, too distracted by his switch to see you setting up your phone before clicking the timer. 

🩹 The sound of the timer gives him PTSD because all the tiktoks Denki puts him in are either pranks or dances.

🩹 Pleasantly surprised when your head popped up over the arm of the couch.

🩹 “What are you doing?” You threw him a reassuring smile.

🩹 “Just trust me, love”

🩹 The song starts and Sero is calmed to not hear “I MAKE A MOTHERFUCKA SAY OH YEAH” or any of the “my way or da high way” shits.

🩹 He’s the embodiment of a fire truck the way his face is red cause you’re peppering his forehead with all these kisses (i’m so lonely man).

🩹 As soon as you’re singing the last part he brings down your lips to his, snatching your breath away the minute they came in contact with one another.

🩹 He lets you go to sing the very last part of the sound but staring into your eyes, forgetting that ya’ll are on camera.

🩹 Basically the all the comments under that post: 🛥🛥🛥🛥

[tobesobri]

Bust | Part Three: Carve (5.5k)

content warning: body image, fatphobia

She wasn’t sure what gave her the boost of confidence to trek up goddamned Justice Hill for the second time today, but she was here. And she was glancing through the windows to find Harry up at his front desk. His cup set aside while he focused on a mound of clay in front of him that roughly took the shape of some humanoid object.

Without giving herself time to second guess, she pushed through the front door and got his attention immediately.

He sat up a little straighter, opened his mouth and then closed it. Loosened the knot between his brows and then tightened it. All while she just stood at the back of the room catching her breath and just staring at him.

“Wh-” He started but it was too late.

She turned right back around and left again.

In which Y/N is an annoyance in Harry’s sculpting class.

story masterlist | my masterlist

She already regretted letting her doubts and her nerves get the best of her while she sat in front of Rose and wished it was Harry instead. Maybe he would have said yes. It was just coffee and she knew he drank it. Nothing had to happen from there. She even could have invited him to come with her and Rose, to make it a little less stressful on herself. But she just… did nothing.

“Hey I guess great minds think alike.” Rose commented, glancing over Y/N’s head. And when she turned to follow her gaze it was like the universe was giving her a second chance.

Harry stood in line behind an older couple, his white jumpsuit a thing of the past as he now wore a pair of joggers and a long-sleeve t-shirt with tour dates printed on the back of some band she’d never heard of. She wondered if he took a spare change of clothes with him to the studio. If sometimes he stayed late and had them just in case. If he stayed late, fixing her sculpture in his spare comfy clothes while playing his music throughout the empty studio.

“I’m going to ask him to join us.” Rose was gone before Y/N could protest, not that she really wanted to anyways. She wanted Harry to pull up a third chair at their little round table. She wanted to hear his voice again up close. Feel the heat radiating off of him. Compare her hands to his while he gripped his own cup of coffee. She just wanted him around in general.

And that was so very not typical of her. To care so much about someone.

So when Rose returned without Harry trailing her, she was a little disappointed at first.

“He said he’d come over for a bit once he orders.” She reassured then and it was all sunflowers and daisies in Y/N’s head again. She just hated that Rose had to be the one to ask him because she was too much of a coward to do it herself.

Rose made room and Y/N flipped her head around when he got close, pulling the chair out Rose had readied for him. He sat down with a smile and his cup in hand, placing a little bag on the table in front of him.

“Do you guys want some?” He asked, noticing both girl’s preoccupation with what was in the bag, “It’s a blueberry scone.”

In unison, they gave two completely different answers. Rose agreed eagerly while Y/N politely declined. And the second he pushed the bag towards Rose and watched her pull the delicious little pastry out of it, Y/N regretted a second thing that night.

“So do you like, stay late at the studio or something?” Rose started, making casual conversation with him in a way Y/N wished she was capable of.

He nodded, “Sometimes, if I’m working on something.”

“And are you?”

He stared at the table and blinked a couple times before shrugging, “Sort of, I guess.”

Rose looked up at him confused, “How do you sort of work on something?”

He laughed at himself and sat back against his chair after having been hunched over the table, “Well I don’t really know if it’s going to turn out. So I don’t like to get my hopes up.”

“What is it? If you don’t mind me asking.”

And maybe she just imagined it, but Y/N swore she saw him glance at her. It was brief, barely even a second that he looked her way.

What the fuck did that mean?

“Um,” he coughed into his hand and cleared his throat, “well I sculpt a lot of figures of women so… it’s that.”

“Anyone in particular or do you just make them up?”

“Depends. This one’s in particular.” He explained quietly and for some reason it made Y/N’s heart fucking burst through the roof. Like Harry would ever make a fucking piece of art after her likeness.

“Well, that’s cool! Will we ever get to see it?”

He shook his head abruptly, “They take me at least a month to complete, and we only have two and a half more weeks.”

“Oh… well do you have social media where you post them when you’re done?” Rose asked and Y/N hid her face instantly behind her coffee cup, pretending to genuinely be thirsty when she really just wanted to avoid the topic of her already being fully aware of Harry’s Instagram.

“Yeah, um, I have Instagram.”

“What is it?” Rose picked her phone up from the table, readying herself to search his username when he gave it to her. And Y/N could sense the bit of reluctance just before he did, like he either didn't give it out often or didn’t really want Rose to know about it.

“This one?” She asked, pointing at the top of a list of potential Harry accounts and he nodded.

They both watched as Rose scrolled through his photos in a way Y/N had already done. Harry was sitting in a pit of nerves because he never really enjoyed being in front of someone while they saw his work for the first time. He had no idea what she would think of it or why he even cared. But he did. He always cared. And Y/N, well, she just hoped Rose wouldn’t notice that Harry already followed her.

She wasn’t sure if there was a way to easily see that on Instagram, but if there was, she prayed Rose didn’t know about it either.

Instead, Rose tilted her head to the side, looking a little confused. “Oh… you do um…”

Both Y/N and Harry leaned in a little to see the photo Rose had clicked on. It was one of his sculptures. One of the female figures that was most definitely not skinny. Y/N bit the insides of her mouth and prepared for the worst.

“Plus sized women…”

Y/N didn’t move a single inch. Not even to blink. The connotation laced in Rose’s words said everything and she had no prior clue that Rose was so bothered by fat people before.

“Well, I do different body types, yeah.” Harry corrected. He did sculpt plus sized women, but not in the sort of light Rose was making it out to be.

“Sorry,” she glanced between the both of them, “I just didn’t realize.”

“Is there something wrong with that?” Y/N finally spoke. Finally did something other than sit in her fear and anger.

“No. I mean… it kind of glorifies like… being overweight don’t you think?”

Y/N thought she was going insane. How did she manage to have a friend who thought that way? How did she go all this time not realizing Rose felt that kind of hatred towards Y/N’s own body? She couldn’t help but feel a wave of embarrassment and panic.

Harry scrunched his face and sat away from her again. “No.” He stated bluntly. “Too many times in art thin bodies are glorified as some sort of ideal.” He argued and Y/N fell madly and deeply in love with him right on the spot because he wasn’t just speaking out of his ass. He wasn’t just blindly following some trend. He poured all his love into his work and he meant every word. “That’s more damaging than the small selection of art focused on trying to correct the way we view beauty… don’t you think?”

Y/N wanted to bow down to him. To sing his fucking praises. To get down on her knees and kiss his fucking shoes.

Rose stared at him a bit stunned for a moment before she glanced at Y/N like her friend might help dig her out of the hole she was in with Harry. But Y/N did no such thing. So, Rose shrugged and put her phone down.

“Guess I never thought of it like that.”

“Right, um…” Harry started gathering himself and it was the first time within the past couple minutes he did something Y/N didn’t approve of. “Thanks for the chat. I’ll see you guys on Saturday.”

When he left, it was awkward between the two like some real truths had finally come out. Y/N didn’t blame Rose for what she said, she probably just genuinely didn’t understand it. She didn’t get what it was like. And frankly, neither did Harry. But at least he made an effort.

“Think he despises me now.” Rose downed the last bits of her coffee in one go.

“No. He doesn’t really seem the type to hate anyone.”

Rose rolled her eyes, “Well after I made a complete ass of myself, I’m sure he’s willing to learn.”

Y/N couldn’t help but laugh, just a little. Because Rose did, in fact, make an ass of herself and Y/N was just glad she was painfully self-aware.

“You ready to go?” Rose asked, pulling her jacket from the back of her chair.

“Um, actually I’ll catch up with you later. I’m going to hang out here a little while longer.”

“You sure? It’s not safe walking home alone once it gets dark.”

Y/N nodded anyways even if Rose scared her a little with that harsh reality. “Yeah. I’ll text you when I get home.”

“Okay well, be safe. I’ll be home trying not to murder myself.” Rose stood, looking genuinely disappointed in herself as she tugged her jacket on. Y/N didn’t really know what to say, so she just said goodbye and left it at that.

Although, within about five minutes of Y/N being alone in the cafe, she was leaving too. Tossing her nearly emptied cup into the bin on her way out of the cafe and then fast walking her ass up the hill again until she reached the studio.

She wasn’t sure what gave her the boost of confidence to trek up goddamned Justice Hill for the second time today, but she was here. And she was glancing through the windows to find Harry up at his front desk. His cup set aside while he focused on a mound of clay in front of him that roughly took the shape of some humanoid object.

Without giving herself time to second guess, she pushed through the front door and got his attention immediately.

He sat up a little straighter, opened his mouth and then closed it. Loosened the knot between his brows and then tightened it. All while she just stood at the back of the room catching her breath and just staring at him.

“Wh-” He started but it was too late.

She turned right back around and left again.

He pushed away from his chair and followed her this time, and went right back outside without a jacket and without his shoes on until he caught up to her before she fast-walked her cowardly ass back down the hill.

“Hey, wait a minute,” he grabbed her arm once he was close enough, luckily not having strayed too far off from the studio so that the lights on inside still illuminated her face when she turned around. “What was all that?”

She stared blankly at him. She had no clue what it was. She had a million things on her mind and the second she was alone with him it was like everything that wanted to come out just completely ditched her. Her head went empty and she panicked.

“I, um… thank you.”

He was even more confused. “For what?”

She blinked, shivering when the cold breeze got to her, “For what you said back there.”

He easily glanced right over her head, down the hill at the little coffee shop, wondering what had happened to Rose and why Y/N was alone now.

She took a deep breath and got his attention again, “I uh… to be honest,” she stared at her feet, trying not to distract her train of thought by his lack of shoes, “when I first saw your sculptures they made me feel… seen. If that makes any sense at all.”

“It does.”

She glanced up at him quickly, “Right well, um… I just wanted to say thank you.”

“I know… you told me that already.”

She nodded like she had more to say but never got around to it.

“What happened to your friend?”

Y/N twisted around slightly, glancing down the hill, “She went home. Which is what I’m going to do now… because I’ve embarrassed myself enough for one night.” She cringed at her own rambling even though it made Harry smile.

He grabbed her hand when she turned to walk away from him however. “Actually um… would you mind if I walked you home? It’s not really safe, you know?”

She didn't even think twice before nodding. There was no way she could disagree to spending more time with him, especially not with the way he was smiling at her now.

“Okay, well, give me like two minutes to get ready… you can come in.” He walked backwards and grabbed the door of the studio, pulling it open for her. It was profound character development when he didn't cut in front of her like the last time he held the door open. Instead, they just shared loved-up smiles as she walked past him and into the warmth of the studio.

He walked up to the front of the room while she stayed in the back and quickly slid his feet back into his shoes. She watched him the entire time, too, while he grabbed his jacket from the back of his chair and pulled his fingers through his hair as he grabbed a set of keys from the top drawer of his desk.

When he returned to her end of the studio, it was with that same old smile, “Ready, then?”

After flipping the Open sign and turning off the lights, he locked the front door and they made their ways down Justice Hill together. It was just past eight-thirty now, and definitely a time of night she didn’t like walking alone in, no matter how much she tried to convince others she could handle it.

His knuckles brushed hers when they reached the bottom of the hill and when she glanced at him, he pulled his hands into the pockets of his jacket. She was reading way too much into things again. He’s your instructor, she reminded herself, he’s just being nice.

Even so, all the words they’d exchanged the day Rose had the flu flashed through her head again. Surely he didn’t talk to other students the way he had with her. He didn’t follow them on Instagram and slide into their DM’s, did he?

She sighed and wrapped her arms around herself when they turned the corner onto Main Street, their backs facing the ocean as the temperature dropped.

She kept her eyes on the cement beneath her shoes and didn’t notice he was pulling himself out of his jacket until it was too late.

“Here,” he handed it to her, leaving him in just his long-sleeve.

“Oh… I’m alright. You’ll get cold.”

He shook his head and insisted, “I’ll be fine.”

Reluctantly, she took it from him. It was a brown suede jacket that clashed horrendously with her outfit, but she wasn't too worried about that. Not as much as she was worried about it even fitting her. Swallowing and hoping for the best, she swung it around her shoulders while they walked and, by some miracle, fit her arms into it.

All the times she refused jackets from men because of her fears were a total waste.

He smiled and buried his hands into the pockets of his joggers, not exactly convincing her that he was, in fact, fine, but she wasn’t quite done obsessing over the scent of his cologne overwhelming her senses.

“So, um,” she started, fiddling with the zipper on his jacket as she desperately racked her brain for something to say after her mouth had opened without her being fully prepared to spark a conversation. When something finally came to mind, she praised jesus. “How long have you been sculpting?”

He chuckled and she swore she heard his teeth clattering. If she didn’t know he would refuse to take his jacket back, she would have already returned it. “Um… well professionally since I was nineteen.”

“And before that?”

“I apprenticed in a studio where we made pots and plates and stuff like that.”

“Isn’t that professional?”

He tilted his head, “Not really. I was still learning. I did traditional art before getting into sculpting when I was thirteen, and I was really bad at it for a long time.”

She was quiet for a moment, thoughtful, which he appreciated. He’d never really known her to think about what she was going to say first before she opened her mouth. “What made you want to make things?”

It was a good question, and one he never really thought about much. He hummed as they continued down Main Street, passing all the little shops that were just beginning to close for the night. “I don’t know really. Just liked making things I thought were beautiful, I suppose.”

That made her heart flutter. All the plus-sized women, according to Rose, he sculpted were things he considered beautiful. Maybe he didn’t actually plan on dating someone who wasn’t thin, but it was the thought that mattered.

“I guess um,” he continued when she was silent, “I got into sculpting people about three years ago. My first attempts were worse than yours so I gave up on it. But then…” he trailed off and right when she glanced at him to ask him to continue, he did, “I met this girl and I fell in love with her and she convinced me to try it again.” He smiled at the memory. “I made her model for me and taught myself by watching videos so I could get her face just right.”

“Are you still together?”

His smile faded, “She…” he huffed, his eyes dropping to the ground and Y/N prepared for the worst when he opened his mouth again, “she had cancer.”

There was a sharp pain in her chest, like someone dug their fingers in and slowly ripped her heart from its cage. She didn’t know what to say and ended up saying the most useless thing to say to someone in his situation.

“I’m sorry.”

He shook his head, “It’s alright. But I think what I make now… it’s because of her.”

Y/N nodded and then mumbled about them needing to cross the street at the next light.

Once they were on the other side of the road and headed into her neighborhood on Saltwater Avenue, he changed the subject. “So what do you do for a living?”

She sighed, “I work in marketing.”

“Sounds like you hate it.”

Shrugging, she became very much aware again that she was wearing his jacket and that they were only three houses away from her house and she didn't want Harry to leave yet. “Sometimes… I just really hate capitalism, you know?”

He laughed, the sound of it echoing through the quiet neighborhood and making her shiver, not because she was cold, though, but because it was the most beautiful sound she’d ever heard, even more so than the other times she’d made him laugh.

“I do know what you mean, yeah.” He agreed, pulling his hands from his pockets and crossing his arms over his chest, “Why stay, then?”

“Well… I kind of have a marketing degree…”

He nodded, “So? A degree just means you’re educated. You can do what you want with it.”

She wasn't sure he knew how degrees worked, but it didn’t matter when she saw her front door fast approaching, “This is me.”

He stopped just as she did in front of the little beach house with white paneling and a bright red door. It was cute and the second thing he noticed after the door, was the barking from the other side of it.

“Think Max was missing you.” He said, just seconds before he realized what knowing her dog’s name implied. He didn’t even know why he said it, either. But he’d gone through one too many photos of her mini Australian shepherd that the dog almost seemed like his now too.

“See someone’s been stalking my instagram.” She lifted an accusatory brow while slipping out of his jacket as they stood in front of her picket-gate.

“S’only fair.” He retorted, bringing up the ghosts of her past that made her internally cringe again.

Handing his jacket back, she rolled her eyes, “Touché.”

He took it, folding it over his arm as a quiet moment passed between them.  Then finally, he glanced up at her front door and then back to her, “Well, um, it was nice talking. I’ll see you Wednesday?”

He glanced at her lips while she nodded, while she pulled her bottom lip into her mouth and bit down on it. It would be the most cliche way to kiss her, if he even had the guts to do that. He had to repeatedly remind himself that… well… nothing. He had no reason not to kiss her, he supposed. Other than her not wanting him to. And he didn’t have the guts to ask her if she would want that.

“Yeah, Wednesday.” She confirmed, giving him a polite smile before reaching around to open her gate and step into her small front yard. She glanced at him before turning away to walk up the short path to her front door and then once more when she waved at him just before disappearing into her house. He waited until she locked her door before he left.

*                                              *                                 *

She fell into the trap of his Instagram again once she was in bed. It wasn’t to check if he’d posted anything new, though, it was to go back even further in his feed to see if he’d ever posted the sculpture he made of his ex-girlfriend. And it took quite a lot of digging, in fact, when she found herself at the very end of his posts. But it wasn’t in vain when she spotted the sculpted face amongst a bunch of old posts about vases and bowls.

Pulling the photo up, it was clear she’d found what she was looking for. Except, there was more than one photo. The first was of his completed sculpture, and according to his caption, his ex-girlfriend, Juliana, had already passed. She swiped left on the photo and was met with one of him and her. She had a beanie on, but it was still obvious Juliana had cancer. The thing that stuck out the most, however was that Juliana was not, in fact, thin. She was beautiful and had the same kind of body Y/N had and Harry loved her enough to sculpt her out of something he could keep forever.

Max jumped up on her bed then and pulled her out of her thoughts. Just the mere possibility of being Harry’s type filled her head with way too much hope. She clicked her phone off and set it on her bedside table. He had all the time in the world just now to make any sort of move and he didn’t. And there was a reason for it, she was sure. It crossed her mind a few times since he’d said what had happened that maybe… Harry was one of those guys that never moved on. She wouldn’t blame him, everyone grieved in their own way. She just felt horrible herself for hoping she had a chance with him when he’d been through something like that and probably wasn’t even emotionally available.

He hid it quite well if he wasn’t. Either way, as she pet Max while he curled up beside her, she completely convinced herself to give Harry some space.

*                                              *                                 *

Rose switched seats for the day to sit beside Julian, who she’d apparently been getting to know quite well the past week without Y/N’s knowledge. So that left Y/N on her own with the few others that sat in the very back of the studio. She leaned on her elbow and doodled on a scrap piece of paper while Harry gave another lesson. Most everyone was at the point of adding limbs to their bodies but Y/N had a really hard time focusing when all she could think about was Harry. And it didn’t help that the only voice she heard was his too.

Frankly, she’d feel like a complete bitch for telling him how she felt after learning about his previous relationship. Even if he had moved on and grieved, it still didn’t feel right. It felt like she’d be taking advantage of something. And with Harry in no hurry to tell her if he even liked her, she was stuck. And it hurt more than she’d like to admit.

She continued doodling while everyone listened, while she glanced at Harry, found him already looking at her, and then went right back to her piece of scrap paper again. She didn’t look up from it either, not when he dismissed everyone to get to work and not when he made a bee line, as nonchalantly as he could, to her table.

“So your friend has a boyfriend now?”

Y/N lifted her head just enough to glance Rose’s way and then retreated to her doodles without giving Harry any attention of his own, “Were you interested?”

His brows furrowed as he watched her, something so completely different about her than the last time they’d been together but he couldn’t figure out what. His eyes scanned down her arm and watched while she drew literal scribbles that he couldn’t make out into any solid thing. “No I was just… making an observation.”

She nodded absentmindedly and he grew frustrated.

He glanced to the people sitting beside her, making sure they were fully engrossed in their projects before he leaned in and whispered just for her to hear, “Are you mad at me?”

That finally pulled her eyes from the desk and onto him where she immediately shook her head, “No,” she said genuinely, hating that he’d gotten that impression. She didn’t want him to think she was mad. He hadn’t done anything. “Why would I be mad at you?”

He blinked a couple times and then opened his mouth but no words ever got the chance to come out.

“Harry! Can you help me please?” Another student shouted from the middle of the class and he turned around to assure that he’d be right there. And when he faced Y/N again, she was back to scribbling.

“If you’re not going to do anything here,” he began, “maybe you should go home.”

She stopped when he walked away. Her entire body immobile. He wanted her to leave. She wanted to leave. She hated that she was upset over what she was upset about and seeing Harry only made her hatred for herself that much worse.

While he preoccupied himself, she packed up her things and left. On her way down Justice Hill, she texted Rose that she wasn’t feeling well.

*                                              *                                 *

It was just past eight-thirty when there her doorbell rang and while she sat on the couch as Max jumped up to bark at the noise, she checked her phone to see if she’d missed a text from Rose saying she was coming over. With her phone empty of any notifications, however, she proceeded with caution.

She picked Max up, mid-bark, and opened her door after unlocking it to find Harry standing on her front porch looking at her with his brows furrowed as he ripped his fingers through his hair nervously.

“Harry what are you--?”

“I’m sorry,” he cut her off, “I’m not sure what I did to upset you, but I’m sorry that I did.”

She glanced down at his feet, finding his same old white vans that he’d recently cleaned all the scuff marks off of, before she faced him again, sighing. “You didn’t do anything, it’s just…” She paused, hesitating. When his eyebrow tilted curiously, she sighed and just came out with it. “I like you. And after what you said yesterday, I just felt stupid for thinking you were into me if you’re still dealing with that.”

He was stunned into silence for an entire five seconds until he cleared his head, “I’m not.” When he saw the way her face fell in disappointment, he clarified, “Still dealing with it, I mean. I’ve had another girlfriend since then. It was hard, but I did move on.”

“Oh.” She readjusted Max in her grip.

“And I am… into you.” He assured. “I was when I first saw you, but then… you opened your mouth.” He laughed optimistically and even though she pretended to be insulted, she couldn’t help but be embarrassed by her past self.

“God, I’m sorry for being so annoying. It was nothing personal, I just--”

He stepped forward and, to Max’s dismay, grabbed her face between his hands and kissed her. Without talking himself out of it this time, but he just didn’t want to listen to her be self-deprecating for one more second. She kissed him back once she was out of the initial shock, and brought her free hand up to the back of his neck to pull him in.

She took a couple backward steps until he was fully in her house and he closed the door shut behind him. Pulling apart for less than five seconds, they never took their eyes off each other as she put Max on the ground finally and then came crashing right back into Harry. The only sound apart from Harry’s moan around her lips as she pressed him into the door, was Max’s nails as he walked across the hardwoods to his spot on the couch again.

He broke away first, a few moments later, with his hands still on either side of her face, pushing her back and giggling when she pouted at him for doing so.

“Sorry, I just wanted you to stop talking,” he whispered while tucking her hair behind her ear softly, so much that just feeling the tip of his fingers on her skin like that gave her goosebumps.

“Well, you’re welcome to shut me up anytime you’d like if that’s how you go about it.” His forehead fell onto hers while he laughed and she did too, breathlessly like Harry had taken all of the air out of her lungs when he kissed her.

“I, um…” He mumbled once they were done laughing and then lifted his head again and began removing his hands from her, “I didn’t close up the studio so I have to go back.”

“Oh,” Y/N nodded, taking a step away from him, “Yeah, you should go do that. I have work in the morning anyway.”

“Can I see you sometime… before Saturday I mean?” He asked and her heart fluttered at just the mere prospect of seeing Harry outside of their regularly scheduled meetings. She’d gotten into the habit of looking forward to her Wednesdays and Saturdays because of him, and it was overwhelming to think of seeing him on a Thursday or a Friday.

“I get off for lunch tomorrow at eleven-thirty to twelve-thirty.” She offered, knowing she’d want to see him again before she was off of work at five. And then she rambled on about why that was her only free time. “I have meetings on Thursdays after work and then I’m too tired to do anyth—“

He cut her off again.

It was quick this time though, but when he pulled his lips from her it didn’t matter, because she stopped. “Eleven-thirty’s fine.”

“Okay.” Was all she said, even though in hindsight she probably should have kept rambling just to get him to kiss her again instead of what he did next.

Which was, reaching behind himself to grab the handle and ease her front door open.

“I’ll slide into your DMs later then…” he stepped aside and pulled the door open just enough to be able to fit himself out of and she stepped back to give him room to do so even if it made her heart ache to see him leaving. And when she seemed confused about why he’d be in her DMs, he clarified. “About where we’ll meet.”

“Oh, yeah. Okay.” She smiled at him finally and stepped closer again to grab the door from him while he stood in the space between it and her small front porch. They stared at each other for a brief moment, her looking up into his eyes while everything that just happened finally began sinking in and him, glancing at her lips before leaning down to kiss her one last time before he ran off.

[writingletterstothefire]

yin and yang

A/N: this is for @tintinwrites, she didn’t ask me for it but i was struck with ~inspiration. it’s really bad and i wrote it in two hours because i can’t pace myself to save my life. anyway, hi caitlin here’s your Din/Max poly relationship but no smut bc i don’t have the energy sorry love you bye

Word Count: 1.4k

Warnings: mentions of sexual encounters, bad writing, Max Phillips existing

You didn’t know how you’d ended up in a relationship with the most serious man you’d ever met. Din Djarin was stoic, stern, and sexy as hell. He’d been a regular at your coffee shop for about a year before you’d worked up the nerve to leave your number on the cardboard cozy wrapped around his regular black coffee.

You didn’t know what he’d been doing coming to the shop you worked at when he suit cost more than a year’s rent in your shitty little apartment. Apparently, he was CEO to a very successful bounty company called The Mandalorians. His men were hired to seek out fugitives of the law, and they were paid a pretty penny to do it.

Needless to say, when you started seeing Din, he quickly became a sugar daddy of sorts. You didn’t ask him for anything, he was just...intuitive. He noticed when you needed money for groceries or rent, and he quietly slipped the money into your account. Six months into your relationship, he’d given you a platinum black card with no limit.

You had no idea how you’d gotten that lucky.

Now, what was even more confusing was how the two of you had become a thruple with the most frat boy of all frat boys. Max Phillips burst into your life when he hired Din’s company to track down his old college buddy Evan as a joke. The joke was that Evan didn’t know it was a joke. Neither did the bounty hunter assigned to catch him. You’d met Max when he was stopping by Din’s office with a payment, and it didn’t escape you how his eyes followed your form. You were in a cute little vintage dress with sunflowers all over it, and you knew you looked good in it. It drove Din crazy when you wore it, so you made sure to wear it as often as you could.

Even though you were in a committed relationship, you felt good knowing you could still catch a man’s eye. It was validating, in a way. So, you decided to be a little tease and give him a wink as you walked by.

What you certainly didn’t expect was for him to follow after you all the way to Din’s office. He’d started going off about how you were “such a pretty little thing”, and how you looked “way too model-esque to be working at a desk in a place like this”. That last one had gotten you to laugh.

“She doesn’t work here,” a gruff voice had interrupted. Din had appeared in the doorway of his office.

“Hi baby,” you smiled, leaning up to kiss him. His arms came around your waist.

“Is this guy bothering you?”

“No, it’s fine-”

“Listen, she winked at me-”

Din looked at Max briefly and then looked back at you. “You winked at him.”

It wasn’t a question. Din was aware that you liked to tease other men, and he didn’t have an issue with it. You’d discussed a threesome before, but the opportunity had never presented itself. Din raised an eyebrow at you, asking a silent question. Him?

You nodded sheepishly. He was cute. Very cute. And if he was down, he was the one you wanted.

Din looked up at Max, who was insanely confused by this whole exchange, and just said, “My office.”

The three of you shuffled in, Din sitting at his desk chair, you sitting at one of two chairs on the other side, and Max hovering by the door.

“Sit,” you and Din spoke at the same time. Din spoke gruffly, as if he was speaking to a frustrating employee, while you spoke sweetly, a smile on your face.

Max wasn’t sure if he should sit or not, but damn if your smile couldn’t get him to do anything you asked. So, he sat.

“Cyar'ika, would you like to explain or should I?” Din spoke, looking at you with his big brown eyes. Those eyes melted your heart every time he looked at you.

“You explain, please?” You blushed. You knew you couldn’t be embarrassed when you’d kickstarted this whole situation, but you couldn’t help but feel like a giggly schoolgirl at the prospect of what was to come, should Max agree. You watched as Din turned his attention to Max, silently sizing him up before speaking.

“She likes to flirt with men. She sets them up to flirt with her so that she can observe them and how they treat her. She’s been looking for a suitable candidate for sometime, and she’s decided on you.”

“A…suitable candidate? A candidate for what? To leave you?” Max had never been more confused. He’d stolen a lot of guys girlfriends, sure, but he’d never been interviewed to steal someone’s girl.

“Certainly not!” You exclaimed, as if you were horrified by the prospect.

“Then what-”

“Do you want to fuck me?” You said plainly, tired of dancing around the situation.

“Obviously,” Max looked at you like you were speaking another language. “You think I would’ve come into a room with you and Murder McGee over there if I didn’t?”

“Excellent! The only condition is that you share me with Murder McGee,” you grinned at Din. He rolled his eyes good naturedly.

“She’s asking if you’d like to have a threesome,” Din said, sounding as if he was exhausted. Honestly, he was more focused on you in that goddamn dress, and he just wanted to rip it off of you. The sooner he got you home, Max in tow or not, the sooner he could get you naked. He turned his impatient gaze onto Max, silently demanding an answer.

“Why the hell not,” Max smirked.

From that moment on, Max became a permanent fixture in your relationship with Din. He had the freedom to come and go as he pleased, and he was welcomed back with open arms.

Not that he often strayed. He talked a big talk, but you had him just as whipped as Din by the first night. The both of them were at your beck and call, each filling needs you hadn’t realized you had. Where Din was stoic, Max provided humor. Where Max was immature, Din was steady and strong, grounding you when you needed it.

That’s not to say you loved one more than the other, nor is it to say that either of them loved you more than the other. It was a surprisingly equal relationship, with each of you bringing out traits that helped to balance the other two.

Din and Max sometimes got on each other’s nerves, but it was never anything serious and it never lasted very long. It was more of a yin and yang. A push and a pull.

As in, Max wanted to push as many buttons as he possibly could, and Din had to pull him back.

For example, right now you were in the bathroom at the bar, and you had left your drink half full. Max was about to spit in it, knowing how gross you’d find it even though baby, we kiss every day and I’m literally inside of you every night why is this so gross to you—

But Din grabbed your drink before Max could do anything, and smacked him across the face for good measure.

“Did you just bitch slap Max?” You asked, sliding into the booth.

“He did, he’s so mean to me all the time. He abuses me when you’re not here,” Max gave you his best puppy eyes, sliding an arm around your waist.

You raised an eyebrow skeptically, then turned your attention to Din. “What was he doing?”

Max gasped indignantly, pulling back. “Why do you assume I was doing something-”

“He was going to spit in your drink again.”

This time your hand lightly smacked Max’s other cheek.

“Alright-” Max began.

“Nope, enough out of you. No blow job.” You crossed your arms.

“Baby-!”

“Nope.”

Max crossed his arms, pouting like a petulant child.

Din smirked, leaning over to kiss your cheek, and you smiled involuntarily, grabbing both of their hands.

You loved your boys, as much as they drove you up a wall sometimes. You’d never imagined feeling so loved before, but you were certainly glad you’d ended up here. They gave you everything you wanted, and you had more power over the two of them than you knew what to do with. It was intimidating, knowing these men would get on their knees for you in a heartbeat.

Now if only you could get Max to beg you for that blowjob.

[atinybitofau]

Y U N H O ↠ arranged marriage au

HOW FWB’S AND MARRIAGE CONTRACTS FIT TOGETHER.

warnings: cigarette smoking. implied mature content.

• he blows out a cloud of smoke.

• rarely thinking about his life decisions.

• today being one of those rare times.

• “Hey, you want some breakfast?”

• he turns to you while killing his cigarette.

• he thinks you look like a goddess.

• despite the dark bags under your eyes and crazy post sex bed hair.

• but he sighs and walks past you.

• not wanting to wonder about the beauty you hold for more than a couple seconds.

• “It would be nice if you answered once in a while, asshole!” he hears you call after him.

• he doesn’t hate you.

• hates the arrangement more than he hates you at least.

* “I thought we were having breakfast?” he asks while joining you at the table after an hour.

• you roll your eyes at him before saying, “From what I remember, you just shrugged. Meaning, you're a complete asshole with no feelings. So fuck off."

• he chuckles at that.

• loves your feistiness he has to admit.

• always found being home with you fun.

• that living with you was the bees knees.

• despite contradictions..

• “Feisty today. What’s the matter, daddy still doesn’t help out?”

• you sigh out of frustration, “I've been stuck on this stupid account for the past week and made absolutely no progress. He still thinks I can do this and I'm already giving up."

• “Want help?”

• “From you?” you scoff. “No thanks.”

• your relationship with Yunho was strict.

• strings attached and all.

• purely sex committed

• so you think.

• “Don’t you have a meeting with the Japan investors today?”

• Yunho shrugs drinking from his mug. “Eh.”

• “Do you ever get tired of slacking off, Yunho? For fucksake, we're getting married next week and you're still not being serious about even your work."

• "So you want me to be serious about us?"

• it’s rare.

• for the both of you to talk about your relationship.

• the future of it..

• that maybe you two really won’t last a minute in the marriage let alone in each other’s lives.

• always spited the other a little bit.

• but Yunho feels bad for you.

• feels bad to drag you into sex and fake smiles.

• fake pda.

• when he’s known your entire lives it’s all you’ve ever wanted.

• for a man to hold you and mean it.

• but..

• he can’t seem to find the honesty of it.

• of loving you that way.

• “No. Just do your job and keep our relationship the way it is.” you answer. “It’s tolerable enough.”

• he knows your lying.

• knows you too well.

• maybe he does love you.

• just doesn’t know it yet.

• (or in correct terms, in denial)

• now you’re drunk off your ass the minute you arrive home.

• so is Yunho.

• done celebrating two separate bachelor and bachelorette parties.

• with hearts on fire.

• brains buzzed to no end.

• next thing the both of you knew, you two were pinning each other to the couch,

• stripping like a bunch of college frat idiots on a saturday.

• wouldn’t able to do it if you two were sober.

• loved each other way too much to actually have sex when you two aren’t buzzed.

• thinking too much for it.

• he cares for you.

• loves you.

• you just want to be loved.

• but sometimes Yunho often falls short.

• “Breakfast?”

• same routine.

• it’s starting to take a toll on him.

• “No.”

• you blink this time stopped behind him.

• feeling fragile.

• and marrying him in a couple of days is starting to take a toll on you.

• “Yunho, do you want to marry me?”

• he stops in his steps,

• thinking that one cigarette wasn’t enough.

• your post sex hair making him crazy in two ways more than one this time around.

• “Why the fuck would you ask that this early in the morning?”

• “Why can’t I?”

• he rolls his eyes attempting to walk away when you call him again.

• “Don’t fucking walk away from me asshole. I’m marrying you against my will in the next couple of days and I’m not going to marry you under these circumstances.”

• “Then don’t!”

• you’re shocked.

• the way Yunho yells.

• answers you in full distress.

• fully red.

• fists clenched too.

• “Don’t marry me then. You don’t want to? I’m sure as hell not forcing you to.”

• “I’m asking you if you want to.” you mumble in response.

• he can’t answer that.

• afraid..

• he’s afraid it’d be too much.

• “I’ve got a meeting to get ready for.” he attempts to walk away like usual but somehow stuck in his place back facing you.

• you scoff and huff. “You’ve got a meeting. You? The one time I get the nerve to talk to you about this, you want to actually do your fucking job.”

• “Fuck off.” his voice snarls and he’s inches from you.

• hot headed and surely not ready for this conversation yet again.

• but you are.

• you’re ready to give it up.

• you and him.

• loving him not enough to get you to stay this far in.

• choking on the strings attached to him is what was happening to you.

• “Fuck— you don’t get to decide for me whether or not I’m doing my job.” he hisses back

• “When have you ever? As a man, as a chief executive officer, as my fucking fiancé, when. Have. You. Ever.”

• you two are like two fireworks that people think are dull.

• not going to go off even when lit.

• but something fires it the right way.

• and now you two are ready to burst.

• “I do my job as I think fit.”

• “As my fiancé, you fall short of that. I can vouch.”

• his chuckle’s fake. “As my fiancée, you don’t know me enough to vouch for anything.”

• you pull at his collar.

• in a less seductive way.

• more threatening than that of.

• “Yunho, you are the love of my life. The man I had always been tied to, you know that? How could I be dumb enough not to know you by now?”

• “Then what do you know? Hm? What the hell do you think you know about me?”

• his eyes have always been big.

• but boy is he goddamn blind.

• “That you love me. That you don’t work your ass off because you can’t stand my father as the president of your company. Can’t stand coming home to me after dealing with him. That you loved me since high school and never told me because you think I’d break.”

• well shit.

• maybe you did know more about him than he thought.

• “T-that’s not true.”

• “That you refused to marry me the first three months because you thought you weren’t good enough? Talked to your mom because you thought she chose me wrong. That she was wrong to think you loved me when she was really right. You’re trying to tell me that’s not true, Yunho?”

• he’s got a complex, Yunho.

• for being a bad guy in front of you.

• to keep you safe from love’s way.

• knowing well himself he can’t love properly.

• can’t live with himself if he steps out of line.

• if he hurts you while doing it.

• “Say you love me.”

• “No!” he pouts in dejection.

• “Jeong Yunho.”

• “No, I’m not gonna say I love you. That’s for bitches to say.”

• “Okay.” you press your lips together. “Then as a cold hearted bitch, I say I love you. Now you have to say it back.”

• you’ve always been a feisty thing, he thinks.

• too much sex appeal for your own good.

• too much appeal in general.

• but it’s a quality he also fell in love with.

• “I’m not saying it back.”

• “You will.”

• “No because I’m no bitch.”

• “Oh for heavensake—“

• you pull him down to your height and force a kiss.

• knowing well Yunho wouldn’t fight back.

• and he doesn’t.

• cause he’s got it all figured out.

• that you know him too well.

• he’s heavily breathing when he holds your cheeks in his hands. “Okay yes. I love you. God I love you. Hell, been dying to say that since I dicked you down the first time. Loving you since you started loving me.”

• you chuckle against his lips. “Well I can’t blame you. Loving me is as toxic as our relationship. As addicting as the cigarettes you put in your mouth every morning.”

• “Loving you,” he curves his nose against yours, buzzed alone by your morning scent and warmth, “is the best drug on the planet. Forbidden and detestable. And maybe enough for a cancer stick substitute.”

• you let him kiss you.

• hands wrapped around his neck.

• “Mrs. Jeong Yunho.” you mumble as he peppers you in sultry kisses. “Never thought I’d like the sound of that sober.”

• “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” he whispers.

• “I’m already drunk.”

lmao unedited cause I worked ten hours today sorreh.

requested by anon

@atinybitofau

[forlornmelody]

Ionize

Rating: E (Smut with some plot, for flavor.)

Fandom(s): DC Comics, Supergirl (tv)

Ship: Supergirl/Livewire 

Linkage: Ao3

Summary:   Kara Zor-El, under the influence of Red-Kryptonite, makes some surprising discoveries about herself, and her nemesis.

Note: Commission for @rookie009. Dude, thank you so much for commissioning me again, and again. My bank account and I are very grateful. 

----

“Whatever you’re up to, Girl Scout, I’m not interested.” Livewire takes one look at Supergirl and turns so her back faces her. One glance, and she thinks she knows everything there is to know about her. Just like everyone else. Because Kara Fucking Danvers is so predictable. She'd show her. 

“You sure about that, Leslie?”

Right on cue, Leslie whips her silvery mane, her eyes sparking with hate. “It’s Livewire, Blondie.” Who’s predictable now?

“Leslie, Leslie, Leslie.” The last one slides off Kara’s tongue like acid. “Getting bored in there, Leslie?”

Livewire’s fist slams into the glass, and it crackles with electricity. “Say that one more time.”

“And you’ll what, exactly?”

Her nemesis shakes with rage. “One day I’ll make you pay.”

Kara laughs darkly. “If you can get out of there, you mean?”

“Don’t you have a cat to rescue from a tree?” Livewire knocks her head back against the glass, and her eyes roll back like a snot-nosed teenager.

“Oh? That Cat? I threw her from a building.”

“Real funny.” 

Kara leans her arm against the glass, letting her breath fog against it. 

“You’re serious.” Livewire sits up and looks at her. Really looks at her. “Holy shitballs.”

“Supergirl?” One of “Hank’s” lackeys stops inside the doorway. 

Waving him off, Kara says, “Don’t worry about it. I got it covered.” God, how she hates the sound of her own voice. 

“Sure thing, Supergirl.”

Leslie’s still shaking her head, her mouth hanging open. “I must be dreaming.”

If she’s honest with herself, Kara’s heart is hammering against her ribcage. She traces her finger around the release button. “Are your dreams always this boring?”

Livewire rolls her eyes. “Ha. Ha. We both know they haven’t given you an access card.”

“You mean this access card?” Kara dangles it in front of Leslie’s face. If her eyes were wide before, now they’re ready to pop out of her skull. Before her mouth can even twist into a how? Kara fills in, “I punched out one of the guards.”

“You did not.”

Kara slides the card and pushes the button and the glass releases with a hiss. “Are you gonna keep arguing with me, or are you going to come with me?”

Livewire’s eyes narrow, and she drapes one arm over her legs. “Where’re we going, Girl Scout?”

Kara shrugs, turning her back and heading for the door. “It won’t be long before they realize you’re missing. Maybe the table in the interrogation room or the couch in the break room?”

Instead of walking, Leslie reverts to static, and she materializes in Kara’s path, inches from her face. “And we’re doing what in there, exactly?”

She could banter some more, but Kara’s bored and impatient. Stepping closer, she comes nose to nose with her, and the air crackles with charge. Funny, how she’s angrier than she’s ever been in her life but she’s still fucking terrified. But Kara isn’t going to let that fear decide anything for her ever again. “I know you want me.”

Leslie snorts. “Want you dead? Yeah. For a while now. What about it?”

Kara grins, circling her like a lioness and her prey. “All the jokes? Butch? Sapphic? You want up my skirt and you hate it.”

The air snaps and Leslie’s gaze pierces her like a laser. “Fuck you.”

Nodding slowly as if to a child, Kara replies, “Yeeeeah. So? Couch or table?

“I hate you.”

“Then why aren’t you running?”

Leslie’s mouth slams shut, and she rattles with rage. But it’s not a punch that slams into Kara’s face. It’s a kiss. 

Tasting Livewire’s mouth is like licking a socket. Kara’s lips tingle, and even more so her tongue. Her fingers twist into Leslie’s hair, the static making her fingertips twitch. “Damn, Girlscout. Didn’t think you had it in you.” She runs her hand down Kara’s front, the fabric of her uniform clinging to her fingertips and her palm. Somewhere, in the back of her mind, Kara senses, knows, how dangerous this is, but she’s past caring. And honestly? Kara’s tired of being careful. Being safe. Fuck safety. Supergirl is the fucking Girl of Steel. She can handle it, can’t she? And that doubt lingering in her mind? Well, that’s what makes it fun. 

Kara doesn’t reply. Instead, she leaves Leslie’s mouth, kissing a trail down her neck, her lips buzzing at the contact. Leslie’s hands grip her shoulders, then the back of her neck and her head. Her fingernails graze Kara’s skin in a way she notices, but they don’t break the skin. Few things can. Maybe next time they can lace her fingers with kryptonite. If there’s a next time. Does she want a next time? 

“Y’know, mm. I pegged you for a virgin.”

Snorting, Kara runs her teeth across Leslie’s skin. “Yeah right.” Kara always has to be so careful with humans. But Leslie’s not merely human, is she? How much can she take? “You’d tell me if this hurt, right?”

Leslie pulls back, raising her nose in disgust. “You can’t hurt me.”

Kara gives her a look, then bites her neck. 

“Oh.” It’s harder than she’s done with her human partners, but still with barely any force applied. Licking her skin, Kara bites harder just a bit to the side of what will soon be a delightful little mark. The thought of leaving little marks all over her makes her thighs twitch. “Ah.” Mm. So not made of steel, but still pretty damn strong. Kara lets herself relax a little. 

Only to have Leslie drive her hand up her skirt. “How do you get this thing on and off, anyway?”

“Mm. A lot, ah. Of determinaaaaaa. Fuck.” Leslie’s probing between her legs, tracing her folds through her underwear and her goddamn tights, the static from her fingers making her jump. 

“Well, I’m determined to get them off, kay?” Leslie gets down on her knees, jerking one boot off and tossing it across the room. She looks up, scrutinizing Kara as if she’s an unanswered question, and then she takes her by the heel. Kara leans against the pedestal, quirking her head, only to watch as a tiny spark leaves Livewire’s fingertip and jumps across the bottom of her foot. 

The gasp leaves Kara’s mouth before she can stop it. Every nerve in her leg is on fire, in the best way possible, from her heel to her groin.

“You like that, Supergirl? Is that what you came here for?” Livewire chuckles. “You wouldn’t be the first.”

Wait. Leslie’s fucking the guards? “Who??” Livewire doesn’t answer, except to send another spark across her skin. Her other boot comes off, tossed to the opposite corner of the first. 

“Mm.” Leslie ducks under her skirt, peeling her tights off with her teeth. When they get past her knees, Leslie snags them with her nails, and tears them off. 

“Hey!”

Chuckling, Leslie replies. “Fair’s fair.” She tilts her neck to the side, showing off the twin hickies she left there earlier. 

The hammer of Kara’s heart has turned into a sharp thud, and she reminds herself to breathe. Sure, she’s had guys down there before. But this? Why does she feel so...naked with Livewire at her feet? 

Leslie licks up the inside of Kara’s thigh, hands splayed wide and grins just before the spark leaves her fingers. Kara’s skin twitches and jolts oh so very close to her clit. “Nng. God.” Her knees crumble, and Leslie holds her up. 

“God isn’t here, Girl Scout. Good thing, too.” Livewire whispers in her ear and her hair stands on end. “You wouldn’t want Her to see this.” Another spark hits her labia, all the better because of wetness pooling between her legs. Kara can’t even form words at how nice it feels. Being ravished by her is such sweet torture. Her nemesis bites and growls and nips at her ears and neck. Never has Kara felt so alive, and yet so close to dying from being so close but not yet. 

“Leslie…”

“Livewire,” she snaps, and does jolt between her thighs, bordering on pain. 

“Livewire,” Kara agrees. “Please.”

“Oh, so the good little girl wants it?”

“Nnn. Not so good anymore.”

“We’ll see about that.” One finger slips into her easily, and then another. “How much more can you take, huh?” And another, this one stretching her enough to make her gulp. “Do you want more?” Livewire twists and turns her, and fuck her, Kara’s humping her fingers, so close so close. 

“Fuck you.” 

“Getting there.” In goes Leslie’s pinky, and the stretch burns so good. Kara has no words, just her own drool dripping from her mouth. “Got room for one more?”

“Ah. Uh. Mm.” Kara shakes her head, then nods, and nods vigorously. “So... close.”

“Say it.”

“Fuck!”

“Close enough.” Livewire cackles, pulling her fingers out, pressing them together, and slipping them back in. “Fuck, you’re wet.” She pumps Kara with her fist, and Kara feels weak in her knees. If she holds onto Livewire, she’ll break her shoulder bones, so she grips the pedestal that holds Livewire’s cell. The concrete crumbles in her fingers as she screams in bliss. 

Kara catches her reflection, and sees her hair standing on end. Her lips swollen and bruised, still parted as they pant. Her cheeks flushed and glimmering with sweat in a way they never do, because Kara Zor El never has to exert herself on Earth. Her mascara and eye shadow smudged and streaked in such a way that won’t come off without a shower. Who is this girl in the glass, and what has she done with sweet little Kara Danvers? 

Two days ago, Kara would have laughed if someone asked if she liked girls. Oh please. Just look at me. What about this bubblegum pop girl next door makes you think I wanna get railed by a girl?? If Kara is honest with herself, which she fucking will be from now on--she’s wasted far too much time pleasing anyone but herself. 

Which is why when Leslie goes down on her, Kara doesn’t return the favor. It starts innocently enough at first. Oh, she’s just paying attention to what Leslie does so she can try the same on her later. Oh, she’ll just come one more time and then. 

Well. Kara’s been used by the DEO, by National City, by CATCO, even Cat Grant herself. Shouldn’t she get the chance to be the user? To use someone else for a change? She’s fucking earned it, hasn’t she? 

And God, Leslie is good with her tongue. She ravishes her, licks her clean, then goes down on her again, but this time with a charge. Kara can see the sparks jumping like static in the dryer, and she jumps with it, every time. 

“C’mon, Supes. At least let me catch my breath and drink some--.” Her hair flips and a water bottle appears in her hand-- “Water.”

“Hurry up. I’m almost coming again.”

“Yeah, again. Isn’t it my turn already?”

Kara’s lips twist, and she rubs her thighs together a bit needily. “Maybe I want to see you beg for it.”

Leslie smirks “Now that’s the Supergirl I know and l--” Her eyes widen, and she snaps her mouth shut. “--Loathe.” She says a little too quickly. 

“Uh huh. Forgetting something?” Kara spreads her legs, scooching to the edge of the pedestal, shivering at the hungry look in Leslie’s eyes. She’ll have to think on that revelation. Later. When she’s not having the night of her life. 

“Fine. But I get to come next time.” Kara nods, closing her eyes. Her legs squirm, nearing the edge of overstimulation, but she can’t stop--won’t stop now. “Ah. Ah.” She bites her lips, feeling the warmth of the sun without the light of it, the blissful nothing of space between stars. “Fuck,” she says, drawing blood from her own lip. 

“My turn.” Leslie stands, wobbling from having sat too long. She holds out a hand for Kara to take, and she takes it, only to hear the clatter of boots down the hall. 

“Time to go..” Kara whisks on her uniform,

“Seriously? What the actual fu--” The two of them stand in the sun of the Mojave, and Leslie has to shield her eyes.  

Kara shoots her a shit-eating grin. “Catch ya later, Livewire.” Maybe next time Kara will let her finish. Maybe she’ll let her do a lot of things.

[tangled23works]

No Time To Die

My @olicitytropes story continues. Hope you guys enjoy this update and if you’re fic writers yourselves, they have some wonderful Halloween prompts on their account that you can check out.

Read on Ao3

Or keep reading here

“Do you see them?” Sin whispered close to his ear.

 Oliver didn’t pay much attention to her question but he noticed her tone. Sin was afraid and trying to hide it.

 He was lying down on a filthy roof stalking the man rumored to have created the new drug that plagued the Glades. Sin had provided the information and insisted on accompanying him. Ever since her friend Max had died, she had been determined to bring down the man responsible for the whole operation.

 Count Vertigo was what they called him. A ridiculous name if Oliver had ever heard one.

 “Is there a way in?” Sin asked.

 “There’s always a way,” he replied, thinking once more of the island and his mentor’s teachings.

 There was only one problem. The ‘way’ was a narrow entrance on the right side. There was no cover and if the police entered, the armed men the Count had inside could take them out easily, one by one. Like the Battle of Thermopylae. Of course, since Oliver planned to crash this place alone the point was moot.

 Sin had tried to persuade him to call someone for help but he had refused with a grunt and a shake of his head. Another thing he had learned on the island; fighting alone meant no one could fail you. Relying on yourself, being the weapon was the best option.

 Even if you were facing a crazy drug lord and his minions.

 “I counted five guards while I was waiting for you,” Sin said.

 “Six,” he corrected. “There’s one on the roof.”

 Sin stared at him with admiration. The night was pitch black and the guard was barely visible. “What are you gonna do, Boss?”

 “Don’t call me that. And don’t interfere. Just stay out of my way.” His gruff order sounded harsh but the young girl must have realized that he was worried about her.

 “Head on a swivel,” Sin promised.

 Oliver gave her a short nod and started running in a low crouch across the roof. He had no intention of entering the warehouse through the front door. Ancient Greeks were masters of military tactics but they knew nothing about modern architecture. Reaching the end of the roof, he leaped across the gap and landed on the other building silently. 

 He approached the guard with stealth and precision. Snapping his neck was not difficult; making sure that the other man didn’t make any noise was the challenge. When he was certain that the guy was dead, he laid him down carefully and located the hidden skylight.

 Oliver knew that the moment he broke the glass he would bring a lot of unwanted attention to himself. And possibly Sin. That would not do.

 Thank God for ARGUS and their little tricks. Taking things from them was fun and his way of saying a big ‘Fuck you’ to Amanda Waller who had stolen a year of his life and put him back on goddamn purgatory. He pulled the round, unassuming device from his inside pocket and placed it on the glass. A strong laser beam cut through a circle just wide enough for a grown man to enter. Once it was finished, the glass didn’t fall down and make a ruckus but remained stuck on the device. You just had to hold it carefully and avoid dropping it yourself.

 Removing the glass and securing the device, he was now ready to enter. He paused only for a moment to make sure that no one was standing beneath him and then jumped into the hole.

 He landed softly and pulled his bow in one move. Someone came rushing at him in the dark but Oliver was ready. He used his shoulder to deflect and then his right fist to punch the man. His opponent fell but didn’t stay down. 

 Oliver nocked an arrow and growled, “Where’s the Count?”

 “I’m more afraid of him, than I am of you!”

 “Wrong answer.”

 Without further discussion, he shot him through the heart and sidestepped the dead body.

 Another guard heard the commotion and ran towards him, ready to shoot. This time he didn’t stop for questions. He took care of the problem quickly and reached the corridor.

 These men obviously knew who he was. And they weren’t afraid of him. Which only meant one thing. The Count was more dangerous than he had thought.

 No matter. The Hood had survived a lot worse.

 There! A door at the far wall. 

 Well, no point in trying to conceal his presence anymore. Oliver kicked it hard and calmly walked through.

 The sight he encountered was straight out of a nightmare. People were naked, dressed only in medical robes and chained together, working on a substance that he identified as the green drug both junkies and cops called Vertigo.

 “The Starling City vigilante? In my home?” The man that spoke had the gaunt look and crazy eyes he had once seen on patients in Arkham Asylum. “You humble me with your presence, you mighty avenger. Please allow me to welcome you. No need for arrows. We fight on the same side.”

 “Your side is money. We are nothing alike.” He knew better than to respond. But just the idea that he had something in common with that lunatic made bile rise in his throat.

 “You care for the Glades. You want the best for its people. You hate the rich as much as we do. We are not that different you and I.”

 “I don’t poison this city,” Oliver growled.

 The Count laughed. “Oh, Green One, the poison is just the symptom. You have no idea about the disease that is slowly killing Starling. But you’ll soon learn. When he’s ready.”

 “When who’s ready?”

 But the discussion was apparently over because the Count fired three times. Oliver shot an arrow towards the chain holding people, breaking it and jumped behind a leather couch. The men and women didn’t try to escape but moved all together like headless chickens getting in the middle of the bullets and arrows with no care in the world.

 It was horrible and as the sound of sirens signaled the police’s arrival, it only got worse. Oliver’s final coherent thought was of Sin waiting alone on that rooftop. He hoped she stayed out of trouble. And then there was no more thinking.

 Only fighting and surviving.

Felicity was pretending to sleep when her phone started ringing. Ever since she had discovered that her best friend’s brother was this city’s guardian angel, sleep had become a rarity. Needless to say, her job and nonexistent social life were suffering. She sighed and decided to ignore the call. It would probably be her mother who had no concept of the time difference between Starling and Vegas.

 The annoying ringing stopped. Promising herself to call her mother tomorrow night, Felicity punched her pillow into submission and wondered what Oliver was doing at that moment. Probably having fun kicking bad guys, jumping from buildings and shooting arrows left and right. Growling in frustration she kicked the sheets away. Would this torment never end?

 The phone rang again. Felicity gave a small scream and reached for her glasses. It was too late in the evening (or too early in the morning to be exact) to deal with her Mom’s stories about rich customers and semi-famous celebrities or - she shuddered - questions about her dating life.

 Great, now she was rambling in her head.

 She picked up without looking at the screen. “Mom I love you but 4 o’clock is not the time to discuss potential boyfriends or-”

 “Felicity Smoak?” a deep, male voice asked.

 “Who’s this? How did you get this number?” She knew she sounded angry but if there was one thing that Felicity was paranoid about, was her identity. Very few people had her phone number and even fewer would dare to call her at this hour.

 “We have a mutual friend.”

 “Are you calling from SCPD? Because I thought that Roy’s thieving days were over. Oh Google, don’t tell me you’re calling from the hospital? Who’s dying? Is it my Mom? Thea? O-” She stopped herself before uttering that last name.

 The man on the other end of the line chuckled. “Sounds like our friend was right to ask me to contact you. You’re worried about him.”

 “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she replied, even though her nerves were shot and she was biting her lip hard enough to draw blood.

 “Do you know the Queen Steel Factory in the Glades?”

 “If it’s on a map, I can find it.”

 “Good. Come as fast as you can. Try the back entrance. The code is 1141.”

 “That’s a lousy password. I could break that in my sleep,” she said and realized that the man had already hung up.

 It took her brain a few moments to freak out about everything. Possible scenario number 1: he was injured, dying on a table, hidden in an old steel factory. The agony that pierced her heart was short but hurt like the devil. Possibility number 2: the man that called was an ally and Oliver had made him call her for help. But what kind of help was she? She was not a doctor and she was definitely not a fan of pointy things. The only skills she had were her smarts and her computer knowledge. What good would that do if he was dying, dammit? 

 She didn’t know but she got dressed as fast as possible. 

 Felicity didn’t have any trouble locating the old Queen steel factory. It was deep in the Glades, on the other side of her home which was located in the gentrified part of the neighborhood. She turned right and parked as close to the back entrance as possible. Taking out her pepper spray, just in case, she pushed the buttons and the heavy metallic door opened easily.

 “Hello?” Her voice echoed in an empty stairwell.

 Pepper spray in hand, she got down the stairs carefully. Somewhere in the back there was water dripping and some kind of machine making a beeping noise. If he was actually hurt, a hospital would be a much better choice than this damp, unsafe environment.

 “You must be Felicity,” a voice said as soon as she reached the bottom. Jumping a mile high, she nearly got scared out of her skin but she was proud that she managed to swallow her instinctive scream.

 The man, staring at her with open curiosity, was built like a mountain.

 “I’m John Diggle. You can call me Dig.”

 She nodded even though she didn’t care much for introductions at the moment. 

 “Where is he?”

 Dig pointed towards the middle of the room where a long, metal table was located. A young girl, no more than 25 years old was lying on it.

 Felicity tilted her head. She had no idea who the girl was but she appeared to be seriously injured.

 “That’s Sin,” Dig explained. “She was at the wrong place, at the wrong time.”

 Curiosity appeased for the moment, Felicity repeated her earlier question. “Where is he?” It was irrational but she wanted to see him with her own eyes. Only then she would be satisfied.

 Dig sighed and led her towards the back where a half-naked Oliver Queen was performing upside down crunches. His torso was glistening with sweat, his back muscles were straining but he didn’t stop. Not even for a second. 

 “She’s here,” Dig said but Felicity would bet her new TX processor that the warning was unnecessary. Oliver had a sixth sense where she was concerned. He had probably known she was there way before Dig did. He did a hundred more repetitions without pause before acknowledging her presence.

 “Why am I here, Oliver?” she asked, deliberately using his name.

 For the first time, since she had arrived at this lonely basement he turned and looked at her.

 “The police are on my tail. Constantly. I want to know why.”

 “Can you elaborate?”

 “Did you see any patrols when you drove here?”

 “Well yes, but Lance is obsessed with the Arrow and it’s not weird that-”

 “Arrow?” Dig asked, raising both eyebrows.

 “Not the time,” Oliver snarled and grabbed a towel. Rubbing his body, he focused on Felicity. “The night of the party…”

 A sudden roaring in her ears made her miss a little bit of his speech. That night was engraved onto her memory. It was both terrible and hauntingly beautiful.

 “...Lance always seems to know where I am. No matter what I do, I can’t seem to catch a break. If I lay low, he lays low. If I’m dressed in green, he’s always behind me, nipping at my heels.” He threw the towel on the ground, viciously. “Walter always said that you’re the best. That you could hack the FBI if you wanted to. I know I’m asking a lot but today they came this close to catching me and now, someone else is paying the price.”

 His voice had dropped several octaves as he looked at the sleeping girl. And Felicity saw clearly what he had been doing earlier, hanging from the ceiling like a bat. Not exercising or trying to calm down as she had originally thought but punishing himself.

 She put her bag down and turned towards the computers.

 “Hacking the SCPD is a serious waste of my talents, Oliver. I’m not thrilled. I don’t think Batman is asking Oracle to hack GCPD, is he? She’s probably looking into the freaking NSA while I’m here-”

 She stopped suddenly and whirled around to glare at him.

 “Oliver Queen what have you done to these poor babies? This system looks like it came from the 80’s! And not the good part of the 80’s like leg warmers and Madonna… No, it looks like-”

 Placing a hand on her shoulder, he cut her before she could continue. Felicity fixed her glasses. Her cheeks were burning with embarrassment. Why did she have to go on a tangent? She had been doing so great so far! Being invited into his secret lair in the middle of the night, she had one zillion questions about him and the young girl and Dig and she had managed to keep her mouth shut and not ask anything. Then, just a look at this horrible abuse of technology and she couldn’t help herself.

 “I’ll get on it,” she whispered and focused on the task ahead.

Thirty minutes later and after the men indulged in a sparring session that provided the background music to her work, she jumped and yelled, “Yes!” so loudly that both of them came running.

 “What did you find?”

 Oliver’s voice reached her first.

 “Lance has a spy.”

 He shook his head.

 “Not possible. No one knows about this.”

 Felicity scoffed. “Your friends know. I know.”

 “I don’t have friends.”

 She threw her hands in the air. What a stubborn, stubborn man! She justified using two ‘stubborns’ because one wasn’t enough to describe him.

 Dig didn’t comment but made a motion with his hands to show that she should ignore him.

 “You said that Lance’s pursuit became worse after the mansion, right?”

 “Yeah,” he confirmed.

 “Did you happen to have any run ins with the law before the party?”

 He narrowed his eyes. “As a matter of fact, I had one just before I arrived at the mansion.”

 “Show me what you were wearing.”

 Oliver cocked his head, clearly confused.

 “You want answers? Show me what you were wearing.”

 Oh, she was enjoying this so much! It was so much better than de-spamming email addresses and pretending she was a blonde bimbo so that her stupid boss wouldn’t be offended by her intelligence.

 Oliver brought his green suit and gave it to her, albeit a bit gingerly. She patted it down and discovered several hidden pockets that held all kinds of things but not the thing she was looking for.

 “Is that all?” she asked. Frustration colored her voice but she was sure her instincts were right. She just had to prove it.

 “What about the quiver?” Dig chimed. “Didn’t you have it with you?”

 “Quiver?” Excitement returned with a vengeance.

 Oliver turned towards a glass case. Felicity rolled her eyes and whispered to Dig, “Is the glass case really practical or is it a necessary accessory to the vigilante lifestyle?”

 Oliver didn’t respond but the slight upturn of his lips indicated that he had heard her. He gave her the quiver but removed the arrows explaining that some of them were so dangerous that they could set off a minor explosion and seriously injure her.

 Felicity nodded but didn’t pay much attention. Her hands patted down the leather and admired the practical design. Whoever had built that was obviously a master of his craft.

 “His name was Yao Fei.”

 “Who?”

 “You were mumbling about the man who made this. The quiver was his. So was the bow.”

 She was staring at him in complete surprise when Dig’s forced cough pulled her out of her reverie. Yao Fei? It was the first time she had ever heard of him. Could Oliver have met him on the island or in a totally different place? And what possessed Oliver to actually tell her about him?

 Obviously, she was not the only one surprised. Dig was looking at his friend as if he had never seen him before.

 “Yes!” she shouted and pumped her fist in the air.

 While her brain had been focusing on the riddle that was Oliver Queen, her hands had found what she had been looking for.

 “You don’t happen to have a Faraday cage in this establishment, do you?”

 “A what?” Dig asked.

 “It’s a literal cage that can block electromagnetic fields,” Oliver answered before she could. “Which means that… You found a bug?”

 The last word was said so calmly that it scared her. Growly Oliver was a sight to behold but it didn’t faze her. Calm Oliver was terrifying.

 “They must have planted it on you during the fight.”

 Dig crossed his arms and looked skeptical. “If that thing is a bug then why hasn’t Lance swarmed this place?”

 Felicity examined the small device. It gleamed in her hand.

 “This is the Sniffer 2000. It’s an old version of a very dangerous tracker that the military uses often. This baby shows a general location but not exactly where you are so after a while it became obsolete. Of course, the Starling police department is so underfunded that there’s no way Lance could get something more expensive. Or reliable. That’s probably the only reason why you aren’t wearing cuffs now.”

 “Okay,” Dig said. “I’ve heard enough. Let me get the hammer and-”

 “No. Give it to me.”

 Felicity closed her hand. “Listen, Oliver. If you’re going to do something stupid then we should discuss it first, don’t you think? The three of us might come up with a better plan.”

 He took a step forward.

 “There’s no ‘three of us’. I work alone. And my plans are never stupid.”

 Dig fake-coughed to show his disagreement.

 “Fe-li-ci-ty. Give me the bug.” 

 He was still speaking in the same self-possessed tone that was freaking her out. They were standing too close, almost touching and she could feel him. A serene front but underneath there was anger. The Hood was fighting the city’s worst criminals while the police were chasing their tails. A young girl had gotten hurt because of a man’s personal vendetta. A girl under Oliver’s watch. No. Anger was too small a word. 

 Rage fit better.

 “Promise me,” she said before she could stop herself.

 He narrowed his eyes.

 “Promise me you’ll come back.”

 Before she could berate herself for the utter stupidity of trying to exact this type of promise from him, he nodded slightly and took her hand. His gloved fingers caressed her skin, pushing her fingers open, making the hair on her arms stand up. His movements were so gentle that she felt like crying. Again.

 Watching him take the bug, put on the suit, place the arrows back in the quiver and grab his bow without speaking was one of the hardest things she had ever done.

 He walked towards the metal staircase but turned back at the last minute.

 “Dig. Take care of her.”

 Dig didn’t argue and took a step towards Felicity.

 They watched him leave, both standing in an uncomfortable silence full of tension that Felicity would have normally tried to break with a thousand-word babble. 

 Turning towards Dig, she clutched his arm harder than she meant to.

 “He’s gonna do something stupid, isn’t he?”

[inglourious-imagines]

The Meaning Of Vat '69 (Lewis Nixon)

Summary: Lewis Nixon gets really angry when he finds out someone drank his favourite whiskey. It turns out it was you and that changes the whole situation.

Author's Note: I had this written for some time already so I thought I'll share it with you guys 'cause I've been busy and don't have much time to write requests (they are on the way don't worry and you still can send me your ideas). Hope you enjoy!

Taglist: @alienoresimagines

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"Holy mother, fuck!" she cursed under her breath probably for the millionth time. "What is it now?" Richard Winters laughed as he absently stared out of the window. 

"The paper work is really getting on my nerves, Dick. I just wanna go and have fun with the boys. I promised Babe that we're gonna have some kind of a darts competition." she confessed and sighed while running her hands in her hair. A pack of cigarettes landed on her desk and her eyes met with Dick's grin, "You need them more than me." She thankfully placed one between her lips and hid the box in her right pocket. Lighter. First drag. First delightful moan escaped her lips as she blew out the cigarette smoke.

"I can make you moan better than that." Lieutenant Lewis Nixon's voice could be heard from the door. She turned her head to him and rolled her eyes in annoyance, "Go fuck yourself, Nix." 

It wasn't like Y/N disliked him, definitely not. She found him rather good-looking and very fun to be around, damn he was attractive as hell and she knew it very well. That was probably what made her sound so upset. She hated the fact she didn't hate him. 

Lewis on the other hand wasn't sure about his feelings towards her. He always flirted with her no matter what, he sometimes complimented her but it was more of a distraction to him than a serious thing. But the more he did it, the more Nixon realized that it's actually true.

"You might wanna help me with that?" Lewis just couldn't help it and then burst into a heartful laughter. It was probably the most beautiful thing she'd heard today.

Or in a week, who knows.

"Will you ever shut up?" she laughed but managed to roll her eyes as usual.

Lewis placed a bottle of his favourite whiskey on her desk and ignored her question, "The nature's calling. Don't miss me too much."

As soon as he left the room, Y/N reached for the bottle. "What are you doing?" Dick asked with a small grin on his face. "Let's just say I'm settling accounts. And besides, I need a goddamn drink." With that, Y/N drank what was left in the bottle.

•••

Y/N was looking outside of the window when she heard a pretty angry voice, "Who the fuck drank all of my fucking whiskey?!" 

"I don't know. Maybe Dick?" she tried to play innocent. Richard wasn't even in the room anymore as he needed to take care of some matter. The tension rised up.

"So you're saying that the responsible nondrinker Winters drank the rest of my goddamn alcohol?" he looked at her with narrowed eyes. He slowly began to walk towards the girl.

"You're so smart, Lieutenant. It's almost hard to believe it." Y/N teased him once again and her Y/E/C met his deep brown. 

Lewis was now standing what seemed like centimetres away from her. She felt his breath on her face. 

"Let me drink what's left of the magical liquor." he almost pleaded and took one last step closer to her. His eyes landed on her still wet lips for a few seconds.

"You should finally give up this bad habit of yours."

Lew sighed and stepped back. He was tired of trying.

"But I won't tell anyone if you sin one more time." Y/N almost whispered.

And there she was - kissing the hell out of Lewis Nixon when just one week ago she'd only kiss the hell out of his Vat '69.