#this hurts something vicious 💕💕💕

[psalmsofpsychosis]

Justify you, justify you Heat-seekers out, heat-seekers out Justify you, justify you Heat-seekers out, heat-seekers out

Depleted Strategic but you come around anyway From grace, we fall It’s all your fault Something you said riddled me always

I want the truth Am I just a piece of your past Choking words back

[charliemwrites]

Part 5 of Obsessive!johnny

(CW: extremely dubious consent; I’d go so far as to say straight non-con. No violence. Please be safe, beans! 💕)

It’s your own fault - or no. That’s a dangerous way of thinking it not your fault. But you got complacent. Got desensitized to that looming sense of danger, the threat hiding in the shadow of his eyes. That little voice in the back of your head became background noise, not the guide it used to be.

All it took was a slip of your carefully crafted mask understanding Johnny’s “love” for you. Just one careless comment, a tone too honest.

You don’t even remember what you said now. Just that the feverish light in his eyes changed instantly. Like a shift in sunlight through colored glass. What frightened you was how his expression changed, shut down hard. His jaw tensing, brows going deceptively smooth.

“Is all this not enough for you?” he asks, taking big, measured steps towards you.

You start backing up, heart tripping over itself. “That’s not-“

“How many ways do you need me to prove it, hm?” he asks. “I’ve apologized a hundred times, bonnie, haven’t I? Is that not enough for you? I’m still not worth it to you?”

You put your hands up, all your carefully crafted and scripted responses fleeing in the face of this new, unfamiliar Johnny. He’s - he’s angry at you. Not because of you, or for you, but at you.

“I’ve been patient, haven’t I?” he continues, low voice wavering with something frightening. “Do you know how hard it is, seeing you cry for a life that wasn’t good enough for you? Do you have any idea how hard I’ve been trying?”

You swallow thickly, try to rally your scrambled thoughts. He just working himself up more and more and that voice that fell so quiet is screaming now. So loud it’s hard to make your mouth work.

“I-I know. I’m sorry,” you manage. “Im just… I lost my temper and said something I didn’t mean…”

His eyes narrow. “Oh, no, hen. I think you meant it.”

He up close to you now, barely a centimeter of space between your bodies. The heat of him is suffocating. You’ve never been so aware of how much bigger than you he is. It thrilled you when he’d loom over you at the bar, cocky confidence and easy smiles.

You meet his eyes.

And for a moment, he softens. You have the briefest golden flicker of hope.

And then he sighs. Deep and resigned. Your stomach flips.

“It’s my fault,” he mutters finally, shaking his head. “Haven’t been treating you right, have I?”

You don’t dare answer.

“Treating you like you’re one thing when you’re really everything.”

You open your mouth, try to speak, to reason with him. He just shushes you with a hand on your cheek, thumb pressing your lips closed.

“Always spoiling you like the princess you are, when sometimes you need to be treated like a slut.”

He jerk’s you around and shoves you onto the bed, plants a big hand between your shoulder blades and presses.

“Soap!”

“Hush up, baby, it’s alright. You don’t have to pretend to be all prim and proper,” he soothes, knocking your feet apart. “I don’t think any less of you for needing cock. Only natural.”

Your underwear rips like wet paper, accompanied by your high-pitched squeal of alarm. He makes a low, rough noise. Pure, animal lust. The fabric of his pants chafes against the backs of your thighs.

“Oh, there she is,” he purrs, “just like I thought.”

You cry out as rough fingers drag through your slit, gathering the slick you can’t believe is leaking from you.

“I’ve been so bad to you, bonnie, not treating you the way you need. No wonder you got all fussy and snappy.” The hazy thought that he might not he talking to you at all anymore burns through you. When you shift, trying to close your legs self-consciously, a sharp slap to your clit collapses your knees.

“We’re gonna set you right, babygirl,” he growls. “Won’t be able to worry your pretty little head anymore.”

He plunges two fingers into you without preamble. The stretch is vicious, but it doesn’t hurt. Not really. You’re too wet. Still, you scream - because Johnny’s spent so many hours playing with you, learning you, that he knows exactly where to press and curl and rub his fingers.

“Wait, wait,” you gasp, tears already collecting in your eyes because he’s being mean about it, twisting to grind his thumb against your clit. It’s too much, you’re not ready no matter what your body says. “Soap, don’t- ngh!”

“Gonna show you why you’re better off here. Right here. Gonna give this pretty cunt what it needs.”

The third finger is a stretch. You try to get away, try to crawl onto the bed to run, but he stomps a boot onto the chain around your ankle and flattens you to the mattress.

“Keep pretending if you want, baby,” he murmurs, “I know what you really need now.”

He’s withdrawing his fingers while you’re still pleading and babbling. You’re horrified to realize you don’t know if you want them back. It doesn’t matter though. Because Johnny’s cock is splitting you open before you can decide, thicker and longer than you’ve ever taken. He curses and groans as he pushes into you, inch by hot inch. Until you feel the fat leaking head tap at your cervix and he grinds, balls kissing your clit.

“T-too much!” you sob. “‘S too much!! Johnny, Johnny, please!”

Heat floods you as he shudders, hips jerking hard and rough. By your head, his fist is white-knuckled in the sheets.

“Did… did you just…?”

“Say my name again,” he snarls.

You blink wetly. “W-wha…?”

“Say. It. Again.” Each word punctuated by a brutal thrust. Something drips down your thigh.

“J-Johnny,” you keen, trying to beg for mercy.

“Jus’ like that.” He’s still hard. Still so fucking hard it’s like you’ve been edging him for hours. Like he didn’t just flood your poor pussy with cum.

“Been dreaming of you saying my name. Haven’t all this time,” he pants, rocking into you hard and fast. Any semblance of restraint is long gone. “Now I know why. Finally fuckin’ earned it. Gonna keep earnin’ it from now on.”

He fucks you so hard the bed leaves dents in the wall. Forces a hand beneath your pelvis to pinch your clit between two fingers and hurtles you shrieking into an orgasm. He doesn’t stop, doesn’t pause for a single beat. Just hitches your knee up onto the mattress and somehow fucks into your harder, faster, deeper. His fingers rub cruel circles into your oversensitive clit and you burn.

“No, no, wait, Johnny- ah! No, I’m gonna - it feels like-”

Wet heat gushes from you, spilling down your thighs, all over the bed and floor. You - you -

“Fuck, you squirted everywhere, good fuckin’ girl, princess.” He slows just a bit, presumably to appreciate the mess you’ve made. You’re too far gone on shock and awful pleasure to do more than sniffle and hiccup pathetically.

And then a death sentence.

“Do it again.”

[spookyserenades]

Trouvaille - Chapter Twelve

Pairing(s); BTS OT7 x Reader

Genre/Themes; Hybrid!AU, themes of the supernatural and the occult, religious themes, violence, hurt/comfort, horror, romance

Rated; 18+ for swearing, violence/gore, future sexual themes. Reader discretion is advised.

Word Count; 16.6k

Trouvaille Masterlist

Trouvaille playlist

Updates on the 7th of each month

Hi babes!! Welcome to the latest update (a crazy one!!) Lot's going on in this chapter, including a boatload of angst, a bit of fluff, some ~spice~, and lots of emotions. It is a pretty Yoongi-heavy chapter (nice) so for all my Yoongi stans-- this one is for you! I hope you all enjoy this update, and let me know what you think if you'd like, and I'm sending you all my love 💕

Previous Chapter // Next Chapter

Yoongi leaned against the grimy plaster that made up the back hallway of The Black Lodge, trying not to grimace as he felt the silky material of his button-down sticking to the years of smoke residue and alcohol fumes. The air was thick with wispy clouds of cigar and cigarette smoke, as it always was, and the strange, dark energy of the bar was still ever-present; but Yoongi wasn’t entirely focused on that, for once. 

He could really use a cigarette, himself. Yoongi quit smoking around the time his mother passed away– no, don’t think about it. Using his pointed incisors, he bit down on his lower lip enough to draw blood, the piercing pain chasing any thoughts of his mother from his mind, a coping mechanism he’d picked up over the past year. Refusing to cut his hair, abstaining from composing, gnawing his lips into shreds; anything to distract, or perhaps to punish, to forget. 

Time marched on, unfortunately. Mourning in an already mournful place was useless and made him feel like he was drowning in a pit of molten tar. Even clinging to hope, that one day he’d be able to manage breaking free and finding somewhere else to live, the hope grew dimmer by the day. 

The frown on the leopard hybrid’s face deepened as the sound of someone retching in the men’s bathroom he was standing across from reached his sensitive ears. Sometimes, he wished he could stick pencils in the spotted appendages– he’d take normal, dim human hearing from his other set over some of the shit he had managed to overhear with hybrid ears during his nearly 28 years of life. Absently, he reached up to fiddle with one of the earrings dangling from his lobe– the silver, pointed shape of a feathered wing gliding between the pads of his forefinger and thumb. 

His frown turned into the faintest ghost of a smile, that vicious and searing sensation of growing hope knocking the wind out of him as he caught the scent of jasmine– mingling with sharp botanicals, a saccharine underlying sweetness, and something uniquely human. He straightened up immediately, the door of the women’s bathroom creaking open and a great gust of that delicious scent smacking him square in the face. 

“I-? I what?” Y/N squeaked, not only unable to recover from the tender kisses Yoongi had showered over her wrist and hand, but the words that had come out of his mouth immediately after he pulled away from her slightly. “Y-yoongi. We kissed? I asked you to kiss me?”

Yoongi was now rather quiet, slowly moving away from her and staring out his window, his face somewhat closed off now that he had revealed what Y/N knew he was leaving out of the whole story of their first meeting. His tail was curling around his own waist mindlessly, and Y/N was cold and reeling with the absence of his body heat that was once accelerating her heartbeat into a gallop. 

It seemed that Yoongi was giving Y/N a few moments to process everything he confessed, a poorly-constructed imaginary wall in between them as she babbled nonsensically. 

“I’m? I don’t even know what to say. I never get that drunk, enough to ask for a kiss from a total stranger,” Y/N blurted out something that actually made sense after a few moments of stuttering, however, the statement that left her lips had Yoongi hissing and a flash of hurt sparking up his feline hazel gaze. Abruptly, Y/N wished she could collect her words from the air and stuff them back into her mouth. “I’m so, so sorry, Yoongi… I shouldn’t have forced you into a corner like that.”

Yoongi was astonished, his tail beginning to flick back and forth so sharply Y/N knew that he was very agitated. Deciding to shut up before she offended the leopard hybrid any more than she clearly already had, Y/N began to approach Yoongi at snail’s pace to prevent him from flinching away. 

“When did I say that you had forced me into a corner, Y/N? Are you serious right now?” Yoongi used her name for the first time in what felt like months, taking her off guard and making her swallow thickly. His voice was soft, but had a deadly edge to it, and the way his jaw was clenched had shivers rolling down her spine– Yoongi actually looked like the predatory leopard he was. 

“I was just saying, um, like I feel bad that I threw myself at you like that,” Y/N wished she could rewind time and relive the tender moment they had right before the bombshell was dropped, but that tenderness seemed to be leagues out of her grasp. 

“You did nothing of the sort. I told you, we talked for almost two hours. We were hardly strangers by the time I kissed you, by the way,” Yoongi crossed his arms over his chest, staring down at Y/N with a dangerous look in his eyes. It made Y/N want to back up and shrivel beneath his gaze, but she knew that Yoongi would never hurt her, so she stood her ground, albeit shakily. “I liked you, Y/N. I wanted to kiss you.”

“L-liked?” Y/N couldn’t help but emphasize the end of the word, the past tense, where Yoongi had implied that his affection for her had disappeared over the course of the year. 

After all, she made him wait, got his hopes up, and was now implying herself that he was nothing but a drunken mistake. Heart plummeting into her stomach, she watched Yoongi’s nose twitch, likely picking up on her anxiety and rising stress levels, the stoniness of his features loosening up a tad. The air was charged, tense, and Y/N wasn’t sure who would cut it first, and where the complicated conversation was going. 

“Y/N–” Yoongi took a step forward, his hand raised as if to place it on her cheek, before the sound of his bedroom door being blasted open cut him off with a surprised grunt, blood draining from his face. 

“HEY, YOONGI. WHAT TIME IS DINNER?” Hoseok jogged into the room shouting, loud rap music coming out of the earpods he was wearing, his breathing labored. 

The fox hybrid must have just come back from a run, and nothing on his face indicating he had a flying fucking clue what Y/N and Yoongi were talking about– he didn’t even seem to notice the tension swirling around the room, Y/N’s stricken expression, or the fact that she was just standing in the middle of Yoongi’s bedroom. Urgently, Yoongi put space between her and himself, dropping back into his composed attitude, like nothing had occurred at all. 

Ambling forward calmly, Yoongi yanked one of Hoseok’s earpods out, Hoseok grinning at him cheekily and switching off the music on his phone. Still standing in the center of the room motionless, Y/N gawked at Yoongi’s flawless attempt to appear normal and nonchalant. 

“Foxy, you trying to blow out your eardrums?” Yoongi grumbled, frowning deeply when Hoseok plopped down on the leopard hybrid’s bed. “Dude, you’re fucking soaked. Get off my bed.”

Hoseok did nothing of the sort, simply repeating his question about dinner, flicking his sweaty bangs off of his forehead with a smirk and leaning back on Yoongi’s cushy beige comforter smugly. 

“I don’t know when dinner will be ready. I was going to make something carb-heavy because I have a game tomorrow night. There’s pasta dough in the fridge…” Yoongi began tying up his hair with a purple scrunchie Y/N had got for him at work, the sight of him both using it and the fact that he didn’t let her put up his hair for the first time in weeks, making her chest squeeze in pain. “Can you help roll out the pasta for the machine, Foxy? I think Y/N mentioned she wanted to shower before dinner, which honestly you should be doing instead of perspiring all over my bed.”

Y/N hadn’t mentioned taking a shower before dinner at all, and she didn’t know if Yoongi wanted space from her and didn’t want to come out and say it, but the lie stung nonetheless. 

“Ah, I’ll shower before bed. Especially if I’m going to be covered in sweat and flour,” Hoseok heaved himself off of Yoongi’s bed, following Yoongi to the door and out into the hall. 

Willing her legs to move, Y/N felt her throat grow thick, confused and left out in the cold. Swiftly, she made her way into her bedroom once she was confident Hoseok and Yoongi were in the kitchen, hastily getting right into the shower so she could put off a crying session. Having red eyes and a swollen face at dinner wasn’t appealing to her, and would attract way too many questions. 

There was a lot for her to think about surrounding the state of her and Yoongi’s relationship now, but Y/N knew if she dwelled on it for too long, her attempt to keep tears at bay would be spoiled. She would give anything to pull the memory of her night at The Black Lodge with Yoongi out of the deep corners of her mind; to relive it, to understand her thought process and how her brain absorbed it. Her body felt weakened after the intensity of what she had learned, head pounding and legs like jelly, and she wasn’t sure if she could make it through dinner acting like everything was okay when she really just wanted to burrow into her bed for the next three weeks. 

Y/N took her sweet time massaging her jasmine lotion into her skin, selecting a warm set of pajamas, and even tidying up some clutter around her room to make sure she was only in the kitchen long enough to choke down some food before she could pull her cozy quilt over her head and sleep away all of her confusing thoughts. It would be damn near impossible for her to get out of the nightly movie routine she had created with all of the boys, and it was her turn to pick out the movie that night as well, but perhaps she could act like she was too exhausted to stay up past dinner. 

Taking Yoongi to his game the following day ought to be awkward. It wasn’t like they could exactly continue their conversation– the rest of the hybrids were going to tag along, so they could grab some dinner afterwards and have a nice Saturday night out on the town. In reality, she wasn’t sure she’d get more one-on-one time with Yoongi until their next piano lesson, if he kept dragging other hybrids into helping him with meals rather than her. 

Slapping moisturizer onto her face, Y/N stared at herself in the old silver mirror hanging over her sink vanity, miraculously appearing pretty normal despite the pure bewilderment she was still experiencing. There was barely detectable puffiness around her lash lines, probably from the effort of holding back frustrated tears in the shower, and she was fairly positive no one would even notice– that is, unless Taehyung got close up to her face, which was always a frequent occurrence. 

 Hoseok 🦊: dinner’s ready, darling~~~

Y/N’s phone chimed, a message and photo coming in from Hoseok. He sent her a selfie, flour dusted across his nose, holding up a plate of fettuccine alfredo, with broccoli and chicken, from the looks of it. Immediately, she saved the picture and added it as his contact photo, loving the little grin on his face– it replaced the former incredibly attractive photo of him post-track meet sweaty and smirking at the camera. Brightening upon seeing Hoseok’s good-natured, radiant smile, Y/N felt a whole lot better about heading out into the kitchen. Whatever was going on between her and Yoongi would eventually be sorted out and addressed, but it wasn’t fair to the others for her to hole up in her room and ignore their nightly routines.

Exiting her room, she headed straight to Namjoon’s half-open door, the crackly sound of his Walkman playing an old Bob Dylan tape filling his cozy space. The room was filled with lamplight, and Namjoon even had a stick of amber incense going on his desk, and she felt immense comfort in even just hanging out in the threshold of his door. However, the wolf hybrid wasn’t in either of his usual spots– the wooden desk chair or the cushy window seat. 

“Joonie?” Y/N called out softly, wondering if he had popped out to his van to retrieve a book or something. 

In response to the sound of his nickname being called, the door to Namjoon’s bathroom creaked open, a mumbled ‘hold on’ coming from him gruffly. Y/N took it upon herself to enter his room further; ever since his birthday, Namjoon really didn’t have a problem with her in his space, and often invited her into his room when he wanted her opinion on something. Typically, it was over a Tarot card meaning or her thoughts on a passage in a book he was reading; Y/N thought it was really sweet of him, and besides– she loved talking to Namjoon, he was insightful and overwhelmingly intelligent. 

Finally, the wolf hybrid emerged from his steamy bathroom, silvery hair towel-dried and ears similarly damp. It looked like he haphazardly threw on a wrinkly gray sleep shirt and sweatpants, Y/N realizing she must have caught him just out of the shower. The reality of that had her stomach flipping over, sheepishly cowering by his desk as he tossed his towel into the hamper and turned the volume down on his Walkman. 

“Is that tape one of the ones you got from the music store last time?” Y/N tried not to snort at the reediness of Bob Dylan’s croon, Namjoon meeting her at his desk and stubbing out the burning stick of incense. “I thought you only saved the ones that weren’t grating,” Y/N recalled Namjoon’s comment from that day, which seemed years ago, with a fond, teasing smile. 

Namjoon shook his head with a playful grimace, catching her gaze out of the corner of his eyes. He smelled really good, homey and masculine, and he was close enough for Y/N to try and pick out the top notes of his body wash: honey, musk, pine?

“Believe me. Dylan was one of the least grating of the bunch,” Namjoon responded, a dimple appearing on his cheek as the corner of his mouth curled up into a smirk. “Besides. ‘Visions Of Johanna’ is one of the most beautiful songs ever written. Lyrically speaking.”

“I’ll make sure to give it a listen, if that’s what you think,” Y/N automatically responded, already adding the song to a queue on her phone. Lately, she’d been getting really fantastic music recommendations from each hybrid, which was a lovely thing to share with them. It allowed her a tiny window into all of their different, complex personalities. “Dinner’s ready, by the way. Wanted to grab you before I headed to the kitchen.”

“I know. Yoongi texted all of us,” Namjoon reached down to ruffle Y/N’s hair, as if she was being silly for even telling him. 

“Oh, really?” Y/N squeaked quietly, following Namjoon around his bedroom like a lost puppy. He was tidying up, something Y/N noticed he tended to do before bed (otherwise, he’d be sleeping with encyclopedias and chess pieces). “Hoseok texted me…”

“Yeah, in the group chat,” Namjoon murmured distractedly, not minding that Y/N was hovering behind him like a phantom while he stacked loose pieces of parchment onto his nightstand, her eyebrows furrowing. “That’s usually how Yoongi lets us know food is ready.”

Y/N didn’t know how to respond. Apparently, all the hybrids had a group chat between one another, one that didn’t include her, and she didn’t quite know how to feel about that. She wasn’t even sure if Namjoon realized that he had revealed a secret– perhaps it wasn’t and she was just unobservant– but he sensed something was up when she was quiet, looking over his shoulder inquisitively. 

“What’s the matter? You look like I just stole candy from you,” Namjoon accused, though his eyes were soft and filled with concern. “Your eyes are a little puffy, too, have you been crying? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong, Namjoon, I’m okay. Just tired, is all,” Y/N didn’t even care if Namjoon could sniff out her lie, considering everything she had gone through that day. She didn’t have a shred of energy left to try and hide her emotions from her hybrids, and Namjoon usually wasn’t one to pry, so she prayed he’d take the hint. “Let’s go eat, okay?”

Before she could get too far, Namjoon caught a hold of her shoulders, two large palms settling over the joints and spinning her around so he could get a good look at her face. She was shaking, slightly, under his strong grip, eager to escape the scrutiny of those penetrating eyes of his. 

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to, but don’t lie to me. If you’re upset, at least don’t try to cover it all up,” Namjoon said firmly, leveling a stern look her way. 

“Joon, please…” Y/N used her hands to ease his off of her, resigned. “It’s nothing, just some stress. I’ll be fine after I get some sleep tonight.”

Namjoon looked unconvinced, some unknown emotion flashing through his eyes, Y/N squeezing his hands before releasing them. She swore she could hear low growling coming from deep within his chest, but he composed himself and lightly cleared his throat, jerking his head towards the hallway. 

“Okay, I’ll drop it,” Namjoon began heading out to the foyer, Y/N close behind. “Maybe you should read a book before bed to relax and get some good sleep. You’re really tense, I felt it in your shoulders. Have Yoongi make you some tea, too.”

Jolting at the mention of the very hybrid causing her rise in blood pressure, Y/N made a noncommittal noise. On the other hand, Namjoon’s kind consideration and concern for her well-being had butterflies coasting in her stomach. 

“You’re sweet, Joonie,” Y/N murmured, mirroring his earlier action by reaching up high to ruffle his still-damp starlight hair. “Pick out a book for me, please?”

Though he was in front of her leading the way to the kitchen, Y/N could see the very tips of his human ears turn red as he grunted out an embarrassed ‘okay’. Namjoon, she found out, was more of a softie than she originally understood. Besides, he always picked out excellent books she’s never read before, which was a bonus. 

The kitchen was warm and thick with the smell of roasted chicken and buttery, cheesy pasta, Y/N’s mouth watering against her will. Spite started to well up inside of her, surpassing her confusion and melancholy, and she desperately prayed to the sky that somehow Yoongi had screwed up the seasoning so she would have an excuse to not enjoy his food. Following Namjoon with a swish of his silvery tail, Y/N begrudgingly slunk further into the room. 

She caught sight of Taehyung first, seated at the breakfast nook by himself, adjusting settings on the camera strapped around his neck. His hair was wild and curly like he just washed it, a vibrant multicolored, vintage-looking sweater slipping over his wrists giving him sweater paws. Cooing, Y/N made a beeline for the Kodiak hybrid– trying with all her might to appear as unaffected as Yoongi took garlic bread out of the oven and shot the breeze with Jimin about the cold weather. Taehyung was a more than wonderful distraction.

“Hi, Tae,” Y/N scooched into the booth, having no trouble cozying up to his furnacelike side, his chest rumbling as he instinctively used one of his arms to hook around her shoulders and pull her closer. “Working on something for the next expo? It’s a week before Christmas, right?”

Smiling with his mouth closed, Taehyung let Y/N wiggle closer into his warmth, wordlessly passing his camera over and resting his nose in her hair as she took it gingerly. Being pressed up so closely against him, Y/N could feel his chest expand with the deep inhale he took, Y/N so used to him and Jimin taking a whiff of her hair daily that it didn’t even register as odd to her anymore. Turning on the camera’s display, Y/N flicked through a couple of Taehyung’s latest works, his editing more streamlined than ever before and each shot more creative than the next. The subjects were images of nature, primarily the backyard and around the neighborhood, but taken from unique angles and using natural light in interesting ways. 

“You’re getting so good at this, Tae. Pretty soon, you’ll have people asking to take wedding pictures for them!” Y/N passed his camera back to him, resisting the urge to totally curl into him or climb into his lap. He was just too cuddly. 

“Thank you,” Taehyung now offered her his toothy smile, wide and showing just how beautiful it made his face, conveying joy contrary to his ever-so-quiet voice. “I still need to work on taking portraits. That’s the assignment for next week…”

“Well it’s fortunate that you live with seven other people to practice on, huh?” Y/N teased, loving the flush that dusted his cheeks and tip of his nose. 

Their moment was interrupted by a black shadow, Y/N somewhat peeling herself off of Taehyung a tad to look up. It wasn’t a black shadow at all, however, it was just Jeongguk– dressed all in black, naturally, and with an enormous bowl of pasta and chicken in his hands. 

“How was your day, Jeongguk? The Tarantino movies you guys were watching… which one was your favorite?” Y/N reached across the table to poke the top of his hand with each word she was speaking to capture his attention, knowing that doing so usually irritated him enough to answer her questions. Since Halloween, though, he’d been much less easily perturbed, and usually regarded her attempts to agitate with amused midnight-black eyes. 

“Kill Bill. The first one, not the second. Pulp Fiction was good, but didn’t live up to all of that bullshit hype college kids drone on and on about,” Jeongguk playfully slapped her hand away from him so he could pick up a fork and start eating, a tiny wry grin pulling up the corners of his mouth. 

“I don’t think I really liked any of them,” a new voice joined the conversation, Seokjin filling up the last empty space in the booth beside Y/N, miraculously balancing three bowls of pasta on his forearm to deliver to Y/N and Taehyung. “Gory, lots of swearing and violence.”

“Grow some balls, Pink Panther,” Jeongguk rolled his eyes, Y/N finding it extremely difficult not to laugh– he was quick on his feet to come up with that nickname, since Seokjin was wearing his favorite ballet-pink hoodie. “Why am I surprised? You could barely make it through an episode of Tokyo Ghoul, and that’s fuckin’ animated blood.”

“Oh, leave him be, Jeongguk. Action or gore isn’t everyone’s cup of tea, and that’s totally okay,” Y/N emphasized her point by using her slipper-clad foot to collide lightly with his shin under the booth, a free hand coming up to smooth over Seokjin’s back affectionately. “Also, it’s hard to take you seriously when you’re talking over a mouthful of half-chewed chicken.”

There was Seokjin’s squeaky-sounding laugh coming from her right, Jeongguk rolling his eyes again, taking a swig of whatever cocktail he had made for himself. Looking down at the food Yoongi made and Seokjin had brought to her, she felt her stomach turning. While it looked and smelled delicious, she didn’t want to give Yoongi the satisfaction of horking the whole plate down right away. Instead, she watched everyone in the booth tuck in promptly, Y/N glowering at her slab of garlic bread with feigned disinterest. 

“Not hungry?” Taehyung’s voice was in her ear, as always, low and indulgently rich. Concern lit up his eyes, his fork and knife paused mid-air as he studied the side of her face, even giving an animalistic sniff in her direction. 

“I had a big lunch,” Y/N admitted, even though that was a bit of a lie. She had been so nervous about her piano lesson with Yoongi earlier in the day, all she could choke down at lunchtime was a handful of baby carrots and hummus. 

Taehyung lifted a brow, definitely not buying the lie, but let it go without a word, mercifully. Y/N discovered that keeping her emotions under wraps from everybody while thoughts of Yoongi swirled around in her head constantly was more challenging than anything she had dealt with before. 

Yoongi’s words kept echoing like a pagan chant in her ears: ‘I know how you feel. About us, all of us’. Was Yoongi that keen, already able to intimately decipher her emotions and feelings through scent alone, or was she painfully obvious about her embarrassingly large crushes on each hybrid she adopted? Flames licked her cheeks, and she afforded a look past Seokjin’s wide shoulders to Yoongi sitting beside Jimin at the island, his back to her. Even now, Y/N could detect a whisper of tension threading through the lean muscles of his back through his shirt, and though she was puzzled– at best– by everything that went down between them in the last few hours, she was pleased to see how much he had filled out with muscle between consistent meals and his basketball practices. 

Sighing lightly, Y/N picked her way through her meal once tearing her eyes from Yoongi, not wanting to attract more attention by not eating dinner. Besides, her stomach was beginning to make embarrassing rumbling sounds, earning an annoyed side-eye from Namjoon across the room, pointedly using the tip of his nose to gesture towards her untouched plate. She resisted the split-second impulse to stick her tongue out at him, reconsidering upon remembering how intimidating Namjoon could be when teased. 

Throughout dinner, Y/N distracted herself from her thoughts and the lack of typical banter she’d have with Yoongi by cozying up to Seokjin and Taehyung; asking them about their preferences for birthday meals during fast-approaching December. Jeongguk asked her if she happened to celebrate Christmas– she replied yes; while her and her mother celebrated the pagan holiday of Yule, her father was more of a traditionalist and loved Christmas. 

“Yule lasts several days, and is made up of just some quiet rituals and whatnot– burning a Yule log, for example. But my dad adores all of the fun traditions of Christmas he had growing up, so he wanted to share that with me, too. We’d deck out the house in all of the lights, bake a thousand Christmas cookies, go out every year to pick out a tree… watch holiday movies in corny matching pajamas. My mom called it ‘Commercial Christmas’, but it was always really fun, and she was just poking fun at how silly my dad can get with it,” Y/N explained to the elk hybrid, him nodding along to her words while pushing broccoli around on his plate. “Oh! And there’s a Holiday Market in the city, too, if you guys are interested in checking that out next month. Food, decorations, music, all of that.”

It dawned on Y/N that her hybrids had likely never celebrated Christmas in the way she had in her youth. She had similar thoughts before, based on each of their strange, varied behaviors during the last three birthdays and Halloween, as well. It had her lower lip jutting out slightly, and she knew that perhaps the reason she worked so hard to make these events extra special in the past few months was because she was making up for their lost years of merriment and celebration of milestones. 

Dwelling on that, she totally zoned out at the breakfast nook, only coming to when Seokjin collected her near-empty plate from her, snapping back to reality when he stood and her hand slipped from the middle of his back, where she was absently rubbing circles into the cozy material of his hoodie. All the jaguar hybrid did was flash her a sweet smile, bringing the dishes to the sink with a purr. 

Shaking off her nerves, Y/N also rose from her seat, taking Taehyung with her so she’d have an excuse to cling to someone (and avoid Yoongi), by pulling him by the loose sleeve of his sweater, the Kodiak hybrid happily being hauled away from his camera and half-drunk glass of wine. Taehyung was one of the hybrids that didn’t drink as much as the others, or even Y/N herself, so sometimes a half of a glass of wine was all he needed for a pretty flush to color his cheeks and his tongue to loosen. 

“What are we watching tonight, Y/N? Nothing scary, I pray?” Y/N managed to scoop Jimin up in her grasp, as well, his expression filled with trepidation as she sandwiched herself between the two hybrids and dragged them into the parlor. 

The fire was roaring, and Taehyung broke free from her hold on his sweater to add another log to the tall flames in the fireplace– he was very serious about keeping it going strong until everyone headed off to bed, like it was an unspoken household duty he felt responsible for completely. Thankfully, he was quick to return to her, eager to claim one of the spots on either of her sides before anyone else could. As Ben had joked about over the phone with her, the hybrids did almost claw at each other in order to get a seat next to her on the couch, even Jeongguk, at that point. With Jimin and Taehyung being the ‘lucky’ ones that night, Y/N didn’t have to worry about sitting awkwardly inches away from Yoongi. 

“No, sweet pea, nothing scary. Just for you and Hoseok, though… on second thought, Seokjinnie, too. I’ll save the horror marathons for another time. I was thinking we could watch something funny?” 

Jimin’s shoulders relaxed downwards several inches, and his ears perked back up to their natural position as he handed her the remote, soothed that she wasn’t about to repeat her surprise showing of Suspiria from last month. Hoseok had to leave the room during the last few scenes of that one, in fact. 

Y/N scrolled through the options in her digital library, avoiding romcoms at all costs, landing on some random comedy with Owen Wilson and Vince Vaughn. She needed something mindless, something that required not much critical thinking, so she could forget about the tangled cobwebs clogging up the cavity that once held her brain. 

The room slowly filled up with the rest of the hybrids, Hoseok tossing wrapped Klondike bars to everyone, Jeongguk taking up the recliner; Namjoon took his usual seat at Y/N’s feet, while Seokjin and Yoongi ended up sitting on the floor next to the couch. Yoongi minded his business, not even sending Y/N a glance as he sank to the floor with his glass of wine. Seokjin didn’t seem pleased that he was so far from Y/N, but knew that her rotating who she sat next to was in an effort to be fair– and he respected that. 

“I know how you feel. About us, all of us.”

“Ben, can you just listen before you say ‘I told you so’?” Y/N stirred cream into her coffee, her lower eyelid twitching when she tasted the concoction on her tongue. Somehow, ever since Yoongi started making her coffee for her each morning, she couldn’t seem to make her favorite ratio quite as precise as he did– even though she had been making it perfectly fine years before he took up the task for her. “I’ll let you say it all you want after I get some of this off my chest.”

Saturday morning, Y/N met up with Ben in the city at their favorite brunch spot on Newbury street, leaving all of her hybrids at home for a lazy morning by themselves. It was rare these days that she’d carve out time to go out with her human friends without at least one of the boys tagging along with her, but miraculously, she was able to break free for a few hours to catch up– or vent– with Ben. Ben cocked an eyebrow at her, taking a measured sip of his mimosa.

“I can do that, but first–” Ben reached into his briefcase, rummaging around within the depths of the leather bag, boldly pulling out a nip of Kahlua and swiftly dumping it into Y/N’s coffee. “You look like you’re one inconvenience away from a nervous breakdown. Happy Saturday, have a drink.”

“Thanks,” Y/N grimaced, sucking down the entirety of the scalding, now spiked, coffee in one go, Ben waving his hand as if to say ‘don’t mention it’. “Christ, I don’t even know where to start…”

Y/N had spent the night tossing and turning, even after the stupid movie she watched with the hybrids and a few shots of gin, waking up with dark circles under her eyes and two hours of sleep under her belt. In those two hours, she had dreams of red curtains, whiskey-scented whispers, piano, and hazel, feline eyes. 

“I think I have an idea of where this is going,” Ben broke the ice after several moments, once the waiter came by to take their brunch orders and bring another round of drinks. This time, Y/N got herself a mimosa, too. “Let me guess. You fell for one of them.”

Y/N felt her stomach drop, the Kahlua, coffee, and champagne churning in her gut as Ben stared at her expectantly. Ben was always quick to pick up on how Y/N felt, particularly when it had to do with her romantic life, but it wasn’t like she was around him enough these days for him to observe her around all of her hybrids… fell for one? She had to laugh, and the sound came out snorted and pathetic. 

“Oh, it’s worse than I thought. More than one? Taking cues from those reverse-harem animes you used to love in high school, huh?” Ben pressed, his nose scrunching up upon hearing the braying donkey laugh Y/N was trying to cover up by chugging her mimosa, a swig of it going down her windpipe. 

“Nnn–ugh! Fuck me, Ben. Lower your voice,” Y/N coughed into her cloth napkin, frantically glancing around the restaurant as if she was being surveilled.

“Relax, Y/N, they’re not even here. They can’t hear you all the way from the Haunted Mansion, even with hybrid ears. Get on with it, spill. You’ll feel better,” Ben pushed a hand through his coiffed red hair, sucking his teeth as he assessed Y/N’s frazzled appearance and erratic behavior. She must have looked like a nutcase. 

“I… Stop looking at me like that! If you’re so smart, you must have pieced together everything already, so why bother?” Y/N accused, but when Ben simply hardened his cerulean gaze, Y/N knew that he was encouraging her to talk through her feelings rather than squirreling them away until she exploded. “Fine. Yeah, okay. I have a crush on them, all of them, as a matter of fact, if that’s even humanly possible… and I know what you’re thinking, I’m batshit, I’m gross, and I’ve put myself in a horrible scenario.”

“Y/N, will you just take a breath, please? We’ve been friends for over a decade. Nothing you say to me is going to scare me off or make me ‘shame’ you Cersei-Game-of-Thrones-style. So, you’re attracted to all seven of them? I mean seriously, Y/N, I can’t blame you, and if you called Laura or Alice, they wouldn’t either. They’re all gorgeous,” Ben leaned back in his seat, both seriousness and amusement dancing across his features. 

Y/N wrestled the champagne bottle resting in the tableside bucket of ice up and out of the shards, pouring herself another glass and completely ignoring the orange juice pitcher nearby that would make her mimosa, well, a mimosa. 

“You know, Y/N… humans and hybrids can be in romantic relationships, and before you fly off of the handle, let me finish! Listen, I know, you know, and your hybrids know that you didn’t adopt them to use-and-abuse, obviously. You’ve always been a romantic, Y/N, it’s not like you can control how you feel, especially when it comes to love.”

Processing this, Y/N gawked at Ben, suddenly unable to come up with any kind of retort. Their waiter came by with their food, and the smell of Y/N’s French toast made her utterly nauseous as soon as it was placed in front of her. Grimacing, she pushed the plate to the side, Ben smirking over a bite of crispy bacon. 

“Love…” Y/N squeaked, the four-letter-word wheezing from her chest painfully, Ben having the nerve to roll his eyes. 

“You do love them, don’t you? Besides the fact that it's obvious to me, as your wonderful best friend, when you fall, you fall hard,” Ben nudged Y/N’s plate back in front of her, sticking a fork in her hand with mischief in his eyes. “It’s a different kind of love– but I love Daisy, she’s my daughter, and I can’t imagine my life without her anymore. That must be similar to how you feel, no?” 

For at least a month, Y/N kept herself in blissful, complete denial, trying to squash down her feelings as best she could in an effort to keep them from the hybrids. She didn’t know if she was fooling them, because she definitely wasn’t fooling Ben, who looked like he was trying to refrain from laughing. The more she thought about her recent behavior; stuttering, blushing, heart racing, constant cuddling, the more stupid she felt. 

“God, I’m a moron,” Y/N stuffed a piece of French toast into her dried-out mouth, the consistency like glue as she chewed. “They probably already know and are just too nice to reject me. Or they’re scared to.”

Ben didn’t say anything, just letting Y/N come to terms with the startling realization: she loved them. Seven different men, she was in love with seven, and the gravity of that realization was driving her to silent lunacy.

“Whatever scenario you’re coming up with in your head, stop it, you’ll start panicking,” Ben reached across the table to grasp Y/N’s hand lightly, his thumb smoothing over the back of it. “It’s kind of a scary, tricky… uh, delicate, subject, but how would you feel about maybe just talking to them about it instead of bottling things up? Even at the cookout in August, I could tell most of them cared about you quite deeply.”

“Can you imagine that conversation, Ben? ‘Hey guys, I know we’re in the middle of dinner and it’s not like you can get away from me after this, but I accidentally fell in love with all of you, so that’s why I’ve been walking around like a bumbling idiot’,” Y/N hissed, her face going hot just by visualizing that scene in her head. “Also, I haven’t even told you what happened yesterday, and if a confession to the seven of them went anything like what went down last night, I’d have to move to a rock out in the middle of the sea.”

 Motioning for her to explain, Y/N launched into the long, complicated report on her interaction with Yoongi post piano lesson, speaking in a hurried and hushed tone. Ben listened carefully, but Y/N chose to leave out some of the more supernatural aspects of her first meeting with Yoongi in The Black Lodge– Ben was a skeptic, at best, so she told him she had gotten too drunk and forgot about meeting Yoongi. By the time she had ended her story with how Yoongi seemed to be acting like nothing happened, Ben’s eyebrows were knitted and their breakfasts had long since been polished off and forgotten. 

“Uh…” Ben leaned back in his seat after he was stunned speechless for several moments, robotically passing his credit card to the waiter, his free hand coming up to rub his close-cut beard. “You weren’t bullshitting me with that text last night. That’s a lot to unpack.”

“Yeah, tell me about it. He pretty much revealed to me that he knows I’m crushing on them all, totally called me out on it. Even went as far as saying it wouldn’t be long before the others figure it out, too,” Y/N moaned miserably into her hands, covering her face exhaustedly. 

“Y/N… from what you told me,” Ben started gently, as if he was trying not to spook a nervous animal. “I think Yoongi likes you too. I mean, he waited for a year for you to remember him, he said he enjoyed talking to you, and honey– he kissed you. You shouldn’t take that bit lightly, either. Predator hybrids like Yoongi, specifically the big cats or canines, are extremely selective when it comes to choosing their romantic partners. To them, it’s like finding their mate.”

“I– no. If that was the case, he would have told me, I’m sure of it. You’ve seen him, right? Met him? He’s gorgeous, funny, caring, can cook like a dream and is a talented pianist; he could have anybody he wants, and I’m not exempt from that, and he knows it… so that’s my reasoning, I guess.”

“Why are you spewing nonsense? You’re starting to tick me off. You were never this full of self doubt in the past, especially over a man. You have to talk to him about this, sooner rather than later. Tell him how you feel, and don’t beat around the bush. And even though I’m almost positive that he likes you romantically, you two need to sort it out before the others catch on and it spirals into something even more tangled,” Ben, as they prepared to leave the restaurant, helped Y/N shrug into her coat, his hands on her shoulders as he gave her a necessary reality check– though his expression was sympathetic and full of concern. “I’ll help you out. I can borrow a couple of your guys on Monday to watch Daisy while I go into the office, and you see if you can somehow get Yoongi alone, okay?”

“Monday…” Y/N blanched, not prepared to throw caution to the wind and admit her feelings that soon. “I-I guess I can make that work. Seokjin and Joonie will be at the library with my mom for the book club, Tae at the rec center preparing for his next expo…”

“Alright. I’ll take the other three for babysitting– the cowboy, the grump, and Foxy, am I correct?” Ben attempted to lighten the mood, holding the restaurant door open for Y/N with a wry grin. “You can do this, Y/N. You’re a smart, beautiful young woman, and I know how much you love those boys. They all deserve to know how much you do– but start with Yoongi.”

Y/N made a noncommittal, grumbling noise, grinding her teeth as the bitter wind whipped through the streets of Boston. Autumn was nearly over, and the harsh winter was well on its way, Christmas decorations already beginning to pop up on certain storefronts. 

“If it goes to shit, I’m calling you. You know how I am with romantic confessions. Remember Liam in high school? I broke out in hives asking him to homecoming,” Y/N muttered, grabbing Ben’s hand and shoving their joined palms into his coat pocket, her best friend snickering at the memory. “Can we change the subject? I’m starting to feel itchy. You can still swing by Copley with me, right?”

“Yeah, I have some time. What are you going there for?” Ben steered her in a different direction than they were going, cutting through some side streets to get to the mall. 

“I’m picking up some things for Seokjin’s birthday, it’s coming up really soon. I found some cookware online I think he’d like, he’s been into culinary pursuits recently,” Y/N felt some of her anxiety dissipate as she thought about sweet Seokjin. He had pouted that morning when she left to meet Ben, and it was hard to pry him off of her as she was heading out the front door. 

“Oh! That reminds me. Has Sarah gotten in touch with you?” 

“She did, actually. We’re planning to meet at some point after the holidays, probably in January. I don’t know if I should tell Seokjin, or keep it a surprise for a little while…” Y/N bit her lip, recalling the pleasant email exchanges she had with the woman who had adopted Hannah. 

“With everything you’ve got going on right now, I think it’s alright to hold off on telling him until the plan is more concrete. Focus on the two birthdays you have coming up, Christmas, and sorting out the thing with Yoongi,” Ben shrugged, squeezing Y/N’s fingers as they ambled down the frosty sidewalk. 

“Shit. I have to order Christmas presents soon…” Y/N used her free hand to pinch the bridge of her nose, thanking the sky that she had that extra income from the boarded horses– gifts for seven hybrids and her other friends and family would certainly add up cost-wise. “I wish I had an assistant to keep track of everything I have to do.”

“Ah, you say that, but I haven’t seen you this happy in years, Y/N,” Ben countered, winking at her. “Even with all of the romantic drama, adopting those boys brought you back to life.”

“Stop being sappy, I’ll cry. Seriously, I will! They’re not around to fuss over me right now and I can do so freely, and that’s an opportunity I would take if you keep it up,” Y/N nudged Ben in the ribs, separating from him as they reached the revolving doors of Copley Place. 

Once in the toasty mall, she and Ben changed the direction of their conversation, Y/N feeling merry despite the looming task of confronting Yoongi in two day’s time. They made plans to have a holiday get-together at her house, with Roy and Daisy, and the Santos twins as well, all while piling items into a cart for Seokjin’s birthday. 

“Come on, sweets, won’t you do it for me?” Y/N was perched on the velvet bench at the foot of Jeongguk’s bed, attempting to convince him to go willingly to Ben’s for ‘babysitting’ early Monday afternoon. She tried to make her eyes as doelike as possible, Jeongguk chewing on his lip ring with his arms crossed, staring down at her. 

“That pouting doesn’t work on me. Go find literally anyone else in the house it does work on, Y/N,” Jeongguk tsked, pulling a few buttons loose on the creamy button-down he was wearing. 

“Okay, shithead. You want to be sassy today? Be my guest. Just saying though, Daisy has been asking for you. Ben says you’re one of her favorites,” Y/N bit back, just to see if guilting him was the way to go. Jeongguk simply shook his head, having the audacity to look amused by her outburst. She was already on edge, and his nonchalance and stubbornness did not make things better. “Maybe this will sweeten the pot. Ben said he was going to pay you guys.”

“Bribery, coercion, ass-kissing… you must really want me out of the house today,” Jeongguk drawled, turning away from Y/N as he used his floor-length mirror to clasp the necklace her mother gave him for his birthday around his neck. Through the thin material of his light-colored shirt, Y/N could faintly detect the black lines of the mystery tattoo on his back. 

“No, but it wouldn’t kill you, Jeongguk. Don’t you want to get out for a little bit? You, Hoseok, and Jimin can take Daisy to the playground in the Common, get some food, walk around…” Y/N refrained from flinching when the elk hybrid accurately called her out for shooing him out. 

“How the fuck can we go out without a human with us? Won’t the four of us get scooped up by agents and tossed back into Gerry’s shithole shelter? Besides, why does a four-year-old hybrid need three babysitters, aren’t Foxy and Blondie enough?” Jeongguk approached Y/N once more, using his thumb and forefinger to gently flick her forehead. 

“Ugh, you’re such a little shit,” Y/N rubbed the spot he flicked, even though it didn’t hurt at all. “I ordered you all ID’s, remember? They arrived this morning. If you get stopped, you show agents your ID, and it tells them that you’re adopted and can roam even without me being present. Daisy has one too, the version for children… She needed it for enrollment in her daycare.”

Jeongguk paused in contemplation, his eyes scanning her face thoughtfully as she squirmed on the bench under his scrutiny, one of his ears lazily twitching. It was a stare-down, Y/N needed to have that talk with Yoongi, and she wanted the conversation to be as private as possible, and Jeongguk seemed a touch suspicious. 

“You really want me to go babysit the bunny that badly?” Jeongguk narrowed his eyes, a spark of triumph lighting up inside of Y/N as she sensed him beginning to cave. 

“Yes, please! I’ll call in some baked ziti for you from Sal’s for dinner,” Y/N jumped to her feet, Jeongguk rolling his eyes and sticking his notebook into the pocket of his baggy black cargo pants. 

“Yeah, yeah. You’re only saying that because I’m doing you a favor, and you probably want pizza yourself, kiddo,” Jeongguk grunted as Y/N elbowed him in the ribs, scoffing at him indignantly. 

“I’m only like a year younger than you. ‘Kiddo’, really?” Y/N paused by his bedroom door, softening up once seeing the twinkle of merriment in Jeongguk’s dark eyes. 

Suddenly overwhelmed with affection for the elk hybrid, considering how much he had warmed up to her over the past few weeks, she leaned up on her tip-toes, lips brushing over his sharp cheekbone for a barely-there kiss while he froze to a complete stand-still. Pulling away as quickly as she could before he could say anything, she giggled at how round his eyes became before heading out to the hall. 

“Thanks for the favor, sweets. Ben will be here in 15 minutes to pick you and the other two up!” She called over her shoulder, hurrying away with the image of Jeongguk looking adorably stunned burned into her retinas. 

Bounding downstairs, Y/N managed to round up Jimin and Hoseok from the backyard, both of them more than willing to watch Daisy for a bit– the both of them practically doted on her. She handed out their new-and-shiny ID’s, Y/N smiling at the pictures on the cards. Staring at Jeongguk’s picture, with a serious expression on his face, she snorted at the way his antlers didn’t quite fit in the frame. 

“Tae did a nice job with all of your photos for these, huh?” Y/N gushed, brushing her fingertips over the tiny picture on Namjoon’s ID, which she’d have to give to him later. “Next time I get my license renewed, I want him to take my picture too, I always look washed out and horrendous in the ones taken at the DMV.”

“I doubt that, Y/N. You always look nice in pictures, even the ones Taehyung takes of you,” Jimin disagreed with her, grinning when she pinched his fleshy cheek bashfully. 

“Such a charmer, Jiminie. Aw, her heart’s racing,” Hoseok crooned, squeezing himself in between her and the coyote hybrid, a wicked smirk on his face as he patted his chest to mimic heartbeats.

Hissing, Y/N tried to step away from the teasing bastard, even more humiliated now, but Hoseok was far too quick for her to make a feeble human’s attempt at escape. Boldly, he grabbed her by the belt loops of her jeans, bending low to press one of his ears over her heart. Squeaking as she wiggled in his grasp, a few of his fingertips slipping into the waistband of her jeans to keep her in place, his skin burning hot with hybrid heat. 

“Hear that, Jiminie? It’s beating even faster now!” Hoseok continued gleefully, squeezing the flesh over her hip bones before he– mercifully– pulled away. “How cute, darling, you’re way too easy to flatter, and even easier to tease.”

“Hoseok,” Y/N used all of her strength to prevent herself from melting into the floorboards, not even noticing that Jimin’s shoulders were shaking with laughter and Jeongguk had crept into the foyer during the spectacle. “Stop fucking with me, the playing field isn’t even. I can’t hear your heartbeat, or smell your embarrassment, or whatever.”

“You could always try flattery, you have a knack for it,” Jeongguk leaned against the front door, seemingly recovered from the smooch she planted on his cheek only moments ago. 

“Brat,” Y/N sneered, though it was half hearted, and she was interrupted by a three-beat honk from outside. “Ooh, Ben’s here. Okay, I think you two have poked enough fun at me, get going. See you soon, sweetheart, have fun and be safe.”

Y/N murmured her last statement directly to Jimin, using a hand to shove Hoseok towards Jeongguk and out of the front door. Patting Jimin’s shoulder lightly, she leaned up to whisper into his ear. 

“You’re in charge, make sure those two don’t swear in front of Daisy, please,” though Y/N was whispering in Jimin’s ear, she was the one shivering with the proximity, intoxicating, dark lavender filling her senses and calming her steadily-climbing anxiety; it was almost time for her to look for Yoongi, who she hadn’t seen the entire day. 

“See you later, Y/N,” Jimin grinned like he knew something she didn’t, craning his neck sideways to press a kiss to one of her knuckles, her hand turning clammy as it slipped from his shoulder when he strolled out the front door. 

Y/N stood in the threshold of the door, watching the three hybrids get into Ben’s car, and stayed until Ben drove off down the street. The silence that followed their departure was eerie, Y/N wondering if Yoongi was taking a nap or was even in the house at all. Typically, during the early afternoon, the leopard hybrid would be messing around on the piano or reading a book in the parlor, but there was no music coming from upstairs and the heavily trafficked parlor was deserted and dark. Sighing, Y/N started to stack logs into the fireplace, knowing if Taehyung came home later and there was no fire, he’d be upset. She knew that she was stalling the inevitable, finding Yoongi and having the conversation she had been dreading for 48 hours, but she tried to summon courage to face him from the growing flames in the fireplace. 

Once she had mustered enough nerve, Y/N wandered through the house to find Yoongi. She searched every nook and cranny, every back hallway and hidden passageway, but clearly he wasn’t inside. Muttering under her breath, she dropped some clean laundry off in Namjoon’s room, pulling on the sherpa-lined jean jacket he had draped over his desk chair to prepare herself for traipsing around the yard. Inhaling Namjoon’s scent on the collar of his jacket, the oversized fabric swallowing her whole, she felt warmth fill her up with the notes of honey and Namjoon. 

“Fuck, it’s cold,” Y/N whimpered as soon as she opened the slider to the backyard, wrapping Namjoon’s coat more tightly around her torso. In the distance, horses were whinnying in the stable, and there were some creepy looking turkey vultures sitting in the naked oak tree next to the picnic table. “Where’s my angel…”

The sky was a gloomy gray, and Y/N wondered if snow was on the way with the way the frost-dusted grass was crunching under her feet. That quiet, still sensation just before a snowstorm was present, as well, which is why the echoing sound of a basketball striking asphalt made her jolt in surprise. Bingo. 

Weaving her way past the gate to the driveway and garage, Y/N let out a nervous breath, becoming a misty cloud of white in front of her. The turkey vultures in the oak tree started making their disturbing, guttural shrieks, sending a chill down her spine. Quickening her pace, butterflies started fluttering in her stomach as the basketball hoop came into view. 

Aware that Yoongi could both hear and smell her, she paused several feet away, eyes sweeping the area for the leopard hybrid. He was just there, she was sure of it, but he was nowhere in sight. 

“Yoongi? Where are you?” Y/N called, annoyed with the possibility that he was avoiding her on purpose. She knelt down, numb fingers grasping the acid-washed hoodie Yoongi must have tossed onto the ground, when a pair of sneakers appeared in her line of vision, she glanced up at the owner, swearing colorfully. 

Yoongi was staring down at her, basketball tucked under his arm, very sweaty and very much without a shirt. Mouth drying up, she felt a range of emotions flood through her; fluster, affection, happiness, concern, before finally landing on anger. 

“Oh my god, it’s like thirty degrees out here! Put this on,” Y/N impulsively threw his sweatshirt at him, hitting him square in the chest before it unceremoniously fell back onto the pavement. 

“I was too hot. Hybrid body heat, silly girl,” Yoongi replied simply, his old nickname for her making a comeback. Unfortunately for Y/N, paired with his damp, long hair and naked chest, it sent a bolt of arousal through her unexpectedly. Hopefully he couldn’t smell it. “What’s up? Where is everyone?”

Y/N read between the lines– that was Yoongi’s newest code for ‘find one of the others, I don’t want to talk to you’. Gritting her teeth, she managed to straighten up, forcing herself to look him in the eyes and not the dewy skin over his collarbones. 

“They’re all out. It’s just you and I, at the moment,” Y/N cleared her throat, getting a strong blast of vanilla-and-cloves as Yoongi passed a veiny hand through his sweat-dampened hair. “Please, for my sake, put on the sweatshirt. I don’t want you turning into a popsicle.”

“Nah,” Yoongi turned away from her, dribbling the ball and aiming to shoot it into the basket, his tail curling around his leg as it usually did when he’d play. “Why, don’t like what you see?”

Y/N’s eyes glazed over as she watched the muscles in his back move and flex, effortlessly sinking the ball into the basket and elegantly slinking to the hoop to retrieve the ball before it could bounce away. The pale skin of his chest was slightly flushed pink, making Y/N’s mouth water, and all at once she felt like a creep. 

“Cat’s got your tongue?” Yoongi drawled, his gravelly voice raising goosebumps on her flesh. Apparently, her hybrids felt like toying with her that day. 

Steeling herself, she approached Yoongi with determination, forgetting all about his sweatshirt, his expression growing curious and spotted ears flattening against his head at their proximity.

“Are you avoiding me again? We never finished our… conversation,” Y/N began, chickening out on professing her love right away, considering his lack of a shirt. 

“You reek like the wolf,” Yoongi dodged the question and subject entirely, moving like he was going to take another shot at the hoop. Before he could get far, Y/N reached out and yanked the basketball out of his hands, scowling. 

“We need to talk, Yoongi. You’ve hardly been able to stand in the same room as me longer than five minutes since that night,” Y/N averted her eyes from his face, finding it hard to look at him with all the emotions running through her. 

Yoongi sighed, the sound of it seemingly coming from the depths of his soul, scooping his sweatshirt off of the ground and shrugging it on. 

“Let’s go inside. Seokjin would die if he saw you out here without a hat,” Yoongi mumbled, resigned, and motioned for Y/N to follow him into the house. 

They were quiet, Y/N’s pulse thundering in her ears, positively dreading the conversation they were about to have. If Yoongi rejected her, she’d have to lock herself in her room to cry and  lick her wounds for hours, but if he didn’t… how on earth would she explain the situation between her and Yoongi to the others?

“So, what is there to ‘finish’ about our conversation?” Yoongi broke the silence as he followed her up to the music room– the most soundproof room in the house, lest someone come home early and interrupt them. Yoongi sounded bitter, like the words on his tongue tasted of grave dirt, Y/N wincing knowing that she was the cause of it. “I thought we wrapped it up already. What’s the use of beating a dead horse? We met before, you forgot, we kissed, now we’re here. End of story.”

“No, Yoongi, it’s not. I–” Y/N cut herself off, sinking down onto the couch with her head in her hands. “Let me apologize, first. I don’t want you to think that our kiss was a drunken mistake to me. I shouldn’t have insinuated that. I’m sorry, angel.”

Yoongi stiffened, at either her words or her nickname for him, she didn’t know. He remained standing in front of her, ears perked up and alert, hands shoved into the pocket of his hoodie. 

“I’m sorry I can’t remember. Believe me, I want to, more than anything. I’ve been having dreams, though, flashes of a memory. Maybe it will return to me, in time,” Y/N peeked at Yoongi through her fingertips, nervously chewing on her lip. 

“Y/N–” 

“Please, just, can you hear me out for a minute?” Y/N interrupted whatever warning he was undoubtedly trying to dole out, desperate to get it over with before she lost her nerve. “Last time we talked about this, you said you knew how I felt, about you, about the others, but I changed the subject.”

Yoongi nodded, his eyes narrowing and arms crossing over his chest, waiting for her to continue. Taking a deep breath, Y/N dropped her hands from her face, finally making eye-contact with the leopard hybrid, who appeared to be taking in all of her micro reactions. 

“You were right, or are right, about my feelings. I’m only starting to, um, understand those feelings, but you noticed them before I even realized they were there,” Y/N fidgeted with her fingers in her lap, growing hot in the face. “I’m sorry for hiding it, and I’m sorry if it makes you uncomfortable.”

Met with silence, Y/N’s worst fear was coming to life; he was going to reject her, their relationship would be permanently damaged, and her heart was going to shatter. Yoongi simply stared at her with that sharp feline gaze, a muscle in his jaw working and his expression giving away nothing as two what he was thinking. 

“I don’t want to lie to you anymore, and it’s totally fine that you don’t feel the same way, but I need to tell you,” Y/N’s voice became shaky, heart feeling like it was going to explode, ready to careen off the edge of no return. “I love you, Yoongi.”

The world went still, not even the birds outside chirping, and Y/N wasn’t confident that she was breathing anymore. Without a word, Yoongi turned on his heel, plopped down on the bench and slid a hand over the weathered keys of the piano. Baffled and heartbroken, Y/N sat frozen on the couch, stiff as a board and head spinning. 

Before her vision could go black, Yoongi began to play. Eyes snapping open, she couldn’t help the gasp that ripped from her chest; Yoongi was playing the song he had composed, the one he previously wouldn’t perform for her even upon her countless requests to. Though his face was blank of emotion, his playing certainly wasn’t, and the song almost breathed air as his hands floated across the keys. It was one of the most beautiful songs she had ever heard, so much so that she wasn’t even aware that she was crying until she felt the hot tears tracking down her cheeks. 

It was over too soon, the final note ringing out solemnly, Yoongi standing from the bench and heading towards the door, his ears flat against his head again. He stopped, hand twitching over the doorknob when he heard Y/N sniffle pathetically, looking over his shoulder. Heart bursting into smithereens at the look of anguish on his face, Y/N wanted to rush over to him, but couldn’t bear looking at him any longer. 

“I wrote that the day after we met. The first thing I composed in years. I wrote it for you.”

With that, Yoongi left the room, Y/N feeling her tears run down her neck, listening to the sound of him closing the door to his bedroom and turning on the tap to his shower. 

“So Y/N, it wasn’t exactly a rejection,” Laura soothed through the phone, Y/N humming noncommittally. She was in her car in the driveway, several days later, Seokjin’s birthday, his birthday cake sitting on the passenger seat beside her. 

“I don’t know what the fuck it was. He’s been walking around the house like a fucking ghost for days now, I think I broke him,” Y/N ran a hand through her hair, not believing that she had to resort to taking phone calls in her car to avoid eavesdropping. “I set out to see if I could fix things, or tell him my feelings, but now everything is even more messed up. I don’t know what to do.”

“Give him time, honey. He shouldn’t be leaving you hanging like that, but maybe it’s a lot to process for him. Your hybrids have been through a lot, he probably wasn’t expecting you to confront him,” Laura theorized, making Y/N snort. She had just accepted that Yoongi had been weirded out and didn’t reciprocate her feelings, but she humored Laura anyway. 

“Yeah, I know. I’ll keep you updated, I guess,” Y/N replied airily, eyes landing on the pink buttercream frosting spelling out Seokjin’s name on his cake, a small smile spreading across her face despite everything. “I gotta run, Laura. Have to round everyone up for Seokjin’s brunch.”

“Keep me updated!” Laura exclaimed urgently, Y/N grunting in response, before hanging up and hauling herself outside. She moved Seokjin’s cake to the trunk where his gifts were, making room for him to sit next to her during the ride to the restaurant. 

Y/N: Time to go! Reservation is at noon <3

Hoseok 🦊: Jinnie looks so handsome on his birthday 🤧

Seokjinnie 🌸: -_-

Jimin 🦋: We’re coming!

Y/N: Can one of you please lock the door on the way out

Joonie 🐺: I got it.

Making sure the heat was cranked up in the cab for Seokjin, she watched the front door like a hawk, waiting for everyone to file out. They came out in pairs, first Jimin and Taehyung, then Hoseok and Seokjin. Last out was Jeongguk and Yoongi, followed by Namjoon diligently locking the door and even giving the handle a jiggle to ensure it was deadbolted. Feeling warm all over at the sight of them, all dressed up in their unique styles, Y/N grinned, even though her heart was still bleeding for Yoongi. She pushed that aside, for now, for Seokjin, determined to give him the best birthday ever. 

“It’s so cold! Fuckin’ Boston weather,” Hoseok whined, the first one to the car, sliding in the seat behind Y/N. “Would moving to Florida ever be an option?” 

“Hell no,” Y/N twisted her face up in disgust even thinking about swampy Florida summers. “We can visit someday, though. Go to Disney World or something.”

“Where are your gloves?” Seokjin climbed into the passenger seat, Namjoon begrudgingly giving up his designated spot for the birthday boy, pointedly narrowing his orange eyes at her bare hands on the steering wheel. 

“Oh, somewhere in the house. I don’t need them, we’re going from the car to the restaurant,” Y/N blushed when he took her hands in his, his thick lips puckering to blow warm air onto them. “Happy birthday, my Seokjinnie!”

“You’re old as fuck,” Jeongguk commented from the third row of seats, his hair slicked back with gel as Y/N glared at him in the rearview mirror. “30? Judas priest.”

“Have some respect for your elders, fuckface,” Hoseok defended Seokjin, a lazy smile on his face when Y/N turned around to back out of her spot in front of the house. 

“Please, stop swearing,” Jimin pinched the bridge of his nose delicately, making Y/N snort. 

She drove one-handed to the restaurant, one of them captured by Seokjin, who was doing the thing where he lightly traced his fingertips over her skin in endless patterns. He was purring, too, Y/N stealing glances of him every once in a while– Hoseok was right, he looked unbearably handsome. Shiny, wavy raven hair, a cozy plum-colored sweater, and his expression content and relaxed. 

When they arrived, Y/N had Namjoon and Taehyung help her bring in the cake and the gifts, never letting go of Seokjin’s hand once. She shouldn’t have noticed, but she did, that Yoongi was keeping a lot of space between them, sitting the furthest away from her at the table and silently reading the menu while everyone else chatted. If the other hybrids had noticed his odd behavior the past few days, they were very good at pretending they didn’t. 

Shaking her head, she put all of her attention on Seokjin, who still hadn’t released her hand. He wiggled in his seat happily, tail curling around her lower back, scooching his chair closer to Y/N. 

“What are you going to get?” Y/N leaned her cheek on Seokjin’s shoulder, reading his menu instead of her own. With a purr, Seokjin pointed out a few items, his teeth digging into his lower lip. “Ooh, that sounds yummy! Eggs benedict?”

They ended up ordering an obscene amount of food, Y/N passing on the mimosas so she could drive home uncompromised, but ordered a round for all of the hybrids. 

“So, how’s the book of the week so far?” Y/N asked Seokjin, who was taking a dainty sip of his mimosa. “A Christmas Carol, right?”

“Mm-hm. It’s a little early for Christmas stories in my opinion, though,” Seokjin cocked his head, a contemplative look on his face. “Have you been sleeping okay lately, Y/N?”

Seokjin was too kind to not point out the very obvious dark circles under her eyes, but she knew that was why he asked. Truthfully, she was lucky if she got three hours of sleep every night since she told Yoongi she loved him, but she couldn’t admit that to Seokjin. The last thing she wanted was to concern him on his birthday. 

“Yeah, I’ve just been having strange dreams that sometimes wake me up. I’m perfectly fine, though, honey,” Y/N attempted to soothe, Seokjin nodding and taking another swig of his mimosa. 

Thankfully, before he could pry, food arrived, and Y/N busied herself by stuffing her face so she didn’t have to talk. 

“This is the first time I’ve ever celebrated my birthday,” Seokjin admitted quietly, the food in front of him untouched as he seemingly soaked everything in. Chest squeezing, Y/N snaked an arm around his waist, pressing a kiss to his shoulder through his sweater. 

“Good thing you’ll have plenty more to celebrate each year, to make up for that,” she replied equally as soft, Seokjin’s eyes softening as he returned a kiss to her– his lips stamping affection on the crown of her head. 

Flushing, she caught Yoongi’s eyes across the table, that same blank look on his face from when he played the song for her days ago. Her song. Hurriedly looking back down at her food, she stuffed the emotion welling up inside her deep down. 

“Try this,” Seokjin interrupted her attempt to not wallow, a fork with a perfect bite of eggs benedict on it appearing in front of her face. 

Automatically, she opened her mouth like it was second nature; Seokjin often liked to feed her bites of his food like that, and she was never one to deny him. His lips twisted up into a smug smirk, using his free hand to cup her jaw like always, angling her face upwards so he could feed her the bite of his entree. She felt eyes on her from the whole table, but she couldn’t have cared less, locked in on the way Seokjin’s gaze was fixed on her mouth. 

“How is it?” Seokjin asked through his shit-eating grin, his touch vanishing but his tail still curled around her waist. 

“Mmm,” was all Y/N could articulate, swallowing slowly and unable to break free from his spell. 

“Spoiled,” Seokjin murmured, tutting. Heart falling to her ass, she gawked at his gorgeous side profile with utter disbelief, ears turning hot with humiliation and something else. 

“H-huh?” She squeaked, though the jaguar hybrid simply resumed eating, striking up a conversation with Hoseok a couple of seats down, still smirking. 

Reeling, Y/N managed to choke down the remainder of her meal, only snapping out of it when the waitresses came by with Seokjin’s cake, lit up with sparkler candles. Amazingly, Seokjin didn’t even flinch when the cake was placed in front of him, despite his usual aversion to things that were on fire or noisy, his cheeks rounding out as he read the top of his cake and blew out the candles. Hoseok sang a rather off-key version of “Happy Birthday” with the waitresses, and Y/N noticed that Taehyung had brought his camera with him, furiously taking pictures with flash of the entire event. 

“You got the lavender cake!” Seokjin exclaimed while Y/N was cutting a slice for him, pink frosting covering the pale purple sponge; a very Seokjin color scheme. 

“I did! You said you liked it a few months ago, I hope you still do,” Y/N pushed the plate in front of him, wondering if she should have a slice herself, considering how stuffed she was from all of the food Seokjin had just fed her. 

This time, Seokjin was the one blushing, mouth full of cake. Chuckling, she ruffled his hair, sliding plate after plate of cake down the table for each of the hybrids, astonished that they still had room in their tummies. 

“Okay, so what did you get Jinnie for his birthday? Did you snag him an audition on Masterchef?” Hoseok asked, frosting coating his lips. 

“Oh! Joonie, can you pass me those bags?” Y/N exclaimed, Namjoon getting up from his booth seat to deliver the three gifts at the head of the table, his damaged ear flickering when she called his name. 

Seokjin, who wasn’t quite as shy as he was when she first met him, accepted the first gift bag with pink ears despite all of his opening up. The whole table– apart from Yoongi, who excused himself to the bathroom minutes prior– watched Seokjin peer into the bag with rapt interest. 

The first gift was from her mother, a lovely vintage watch that Y/N had helped her pick out at a pawn shop recently. When she spotted it in the shop, it had Seokjin written all over it; elegant and classic, and went well with his polished wardrobe. Hoseok oohed and aahed, reaching across the table to strap it on Seokjin’s left wrist for him. Giggling, Y/N admired the way it looked on his slim wrist, leaning against his arm while he went for the other two gifts; several sweaters and shirts in various shades of pinks and neutrals, a pretty set of silver dangling earrings (Y/N noticed that he had two lobe piercings on his left ear, but didn’t have any earrings to put through them), and a set of brand-new Japanese knives. He loved every single gift, gushing over the knives in particular, but he had to slap Hoseok’s hand away when the fox hybrid attempted to put the earrings on Seokjin. 

Once the cake was eaten and plates were cleared away, Jeongguk and Namjoon both began to grow antsy, probably hoping to leave soon and get back to their routines. She handed her car keys to Taehyung beside her so he could pull the car around– he was the only one Y/N was confident that he knew how to drive, and Namjoon was known to speed– everyone following the Kodiak hybrid outside. Yoongi had long since returned from the bathroom, but once he saw that it was just Seokjin and Y/N waiting at the table to pay the bill, he too went out to the car. 

“Thank you, Y/N. Today was…” Seokjin trailed off, like he was at a loss for words. They were standing by the bar, waiting for his leftover cake to be boxed up, Seokjin straightening out Y/N’s coat and making sure it was clasped correctly. “Perfect.”

“My Seokjinnie,” Y/N cooed, wrapping her arms around his waist and burying her face in chest. She felt him purring, his own arms coiling around her back, rubbing circles over her coat. “I have one more thing for you.”

Pulling away, she chuckled at the look of bewilderment lighting up his features, Y/N reaching into the pocket of her coat for an envelope, offering it to him with a wink. Carefully, Seokjin tore the envelope open, fishing out the two pieces of paper from within and turning them over. His eyes scanned the text, his pupils blowing out wide and mouth dropping open once he registered exactly what he was holding.

“A cooking class,” Seokjin breathed, cheeks turning bright pink. “At Eataly?”

“Yeah! I heard the classes there are awesome, and in that class you get to have wine pairings with whatever you cook, you learn about the regions in Italy where the dishes come from. You’ve been so into cooking lately, and I thought the class would be perfect for you, especially with the wine pairing aspect,” Y/N explained, Seokjin hanging on every word and reading the tickets over and over. “It’s in February. I got two tickets, so you can take whoever you like. Hoseok, Yoongi, Joonie, it’s your choice!”

Seokjin froze, a curious look in his eyes, tucking the tickets back into the envelope and reaching for Y/N’s hand again. 

“You don’t wanna come with me?” Seokjin squeezed her hand, a frown on his face for the first time that day. Blinking, Y/N made a noise of surprise. 

“Me? You want me to take the class with you?” Y/N asked stupidly, Seokjin furiously nodding and his ears perking up. 

“I don’t want to take it with anyone but you,” Seokjin confirmed resolutely, taking his cake box from a waitress ogling him without so much of a glance in her direction. Heart soaring upon hearing those words, Y/N couldn’t help but give him another tight hug. 

“Okay, I’ll go with you. Can’t wait,” Y/N agreed, mouth full of his felt coat. 

Seokjin just grinned brilliantly, leaving her embrace, tugging her towards the door, where her Land Cruiser was double-parked with the rest of the hybrids. 

“Let’s go home,” Seokjin held the door to the restaurant open for her, uttering the statement like it had great meaning to him. 

Even though she shouldn’t have, she let Taehyung drive home, Yoongi sitting beside him, while Y/N squeezed into the backseat between Namjoon and Seokjin. It was halfway back to the house when she realized Taehyung wasn’t using GPS; he knew where home was by memory, or perhaps by heart. 

“It’s just a piano lesson, just act natural, like nothing’s wrong,” Y/N glared at herself in her bathroom mirror, pinching her own cheeks to bring life back into her complexion. “Just act like you aren’t in love with the teacher.”

Groaning, Y/N switched off the bathroom light, feeling a touch ill. She had barely spoken more than a handful of words to Yoongi in over a week, nerves still too raw. Last week, she skipped her lesson, not even bringing it up to the leopard hybrid, and spent much of that Friday out in the stable with Jimin taking care of the animals. That week, however, she ironically decided to face the music and resume with the lessons, an attempt to grasp a sense of normalcy between her and Yoongi. 

Y/N paused before she left her bedroom, shooting her crumpled sheets a dirty look. Sleep still evaded her, and her dreams had been getting more and more vivid and taunting, the locked memory of her first meeting with Yoongi driving her insane even while unconscious. Growling, she left her room, taking a peek into Namjoon’s bedroom to find it empty, disappointment flooding through her. He must have been in his trailer, where he and Jeongguk had been hanging out recently like a pair of Ghostbusters.

She could hear a movie going on in the parlor, but she didn’t stop by to see what was on or who was watching, not wanting to drag her feet any longer. Y/N knew that Yoongi wasn’t there; he spent most of his time those days in the music room with the doors shut. Poor Taehyung couldn’t even use the record player all week. 

Crawling up the stairs, once she reached the room at the end of the hall, she knocked on the closed doors. Of course, he knew that it was her, but there was still a chance that he wouldn’t open up. As the door opened, her heart throbbed at the sight of him– similarly tired looking, just like her. Yoongi stepped aside, letting her into the room, before promptly shutting the both of them into the silent room. 

The room was a mess, sheet music strewn everywhere, a throw blanket tossed messily over the loveseat, several dirty mugs on the coffee table. She half-turned, too grief-stricken to face him fully, she gestured around the room. 

“Have you been sleeping in here?” Y/N managed, picking a crumpled piece of sheet music off of the ground, instantly recognizing the writing on the paper to be in Yoongi’s hand. Yoongi ran a hand over his face, his clothing all wrinkled and pen ink covering his fingers. “Um, I guess as long as it’s comfortable…”

“What do you want?” Yoongi asked softly, Y/N flinching at the question like she was burned with a fire poker. 

“I just wanted to ask… If we could have a lesson? If you still want to teach me? I understand if you don’t,” Y/N felt her throat grow sore from trying to keep down tears, feeling like a giant crybaby. 

Yoongi grunted, trudging over to the piano, pushing sheet music off of the bench and sitting down. 

“Come,” Yoongi patted the bench, avoiding her eyes, tail wrapping around his waist snugly. 

Y/N’s legs moved on their own accord, perching on the edge of the bench as far away from him as she could accomplish, not wanting to make him uncomfortable by touching him. Scanning the sheet music in front of her, already able to read it pretty well thanks to his vigorous teaching style, she heard the notes in her head as her eyes roamed over the notes. 

“Is this…?” Y/N timidly pointed to the paper, unable to look at him whatsoever. This was a terrible mistake. 

“It’s your song,” Yoongi gruffly admitted, his voice coming out strained. “I can teach you.”

Nodding, she was surprised she was able to keep the waterworks at bay, Yoongi launching into his lesson patiently. Y/N was leagues better and playing than she was months ago, so Yoongi hardly had to correct her or fix her hand placements, but the air in the room was suffocating her. Being so close to him, so close yet emotionally miles apart, had the queasy feeling in her gut growing by the second. 

She made it halfway through the song, but the more complicated section of the piece was starting to trip her up. Fumbling through the same measure four times in a row, she huffed in annoyance, considering throwing in the towel for the night. 

“No, try again. Like this,” Yoongi snapped her out of her self-criticism, gently rearranging her fingers on the keys to form the correct chord, the contact shocking her so much that she yelped, her vision going black immediately. 

“Give me your number,” the girl– Y/N– demanded, apparently trying to sound confident, but her alcohol-flushed cheeks were countering her desire to seem intimidating. 

Yoongi chuckled, for what felt like the first time in years, watching the girl stick out her arm and using her free hand to dig around in her purse for something. With a triumphant grin, she produced a pen from her bag, shoving it in Yoongi’s palm. 

“Give me your number, Yoongi,” Y/N repeated, waving her bare forearm in his face. 

“Silly girl. Why don’t I just put it in your contacts?” Yoongi teased, though he was secretly delighted that she wanted to keep in touch with him. He prayed that you’d be the one to remember. 

“My phone died,” Y/N pouted– oh, she didn’t know how irresistible she was. “Just write it on my arm, I’ll plug it in to my phone tomorrow, I swear.”

She didn’t know that promises, when it came to The Black Lodge, often disappeared into thin air. She didn’t know that there was a strong possibility that come morning, she’d forget she was even at a bar, that she met him. He shook his head, as if to clear the thoughts from it, reaching out to hold her wrist steady, uncapping the pen with his teeth. Yoongi could tell she was holding her breath, her heart rate picking up as he copied his cell phone number onto her smooth flesh. 

“What time is it? I have work in the morning…” Y/N looked regretful, like she couldn’t bear to leave the bar. It pulled at his heartstrings, embarrassingly enough. 

“Midnight,” Yoongi checked his watch before looking back at her face, trying to memorize every inch of it. “You should probably get going. I’ll call you a cab.”

Yoongi let Y/N cling to his arm, a little unstable on her heels, walking her to the back entrance of the bar. He felt the ache of having to say goodbye to the first person who made him feel like a real person in years, but there was nothing he could do– it’s not like he could lock her away in his apartment upstairs just so he could have someone to come home to. Breathing in deeply, he knew that he’d miss her scent as soon as she’d get in the cab and drive away. 

Leaning by the door, watching for the cab out of the window, Yoongi tried to appear nonchalant, but he was truthfully shaken. Y/N was talking about a concert that she wanted to go to with him the following week, an indie band he never heard of. If you remembered him the next day, there was a possibility he’d have actual plans with someone. Someone interested in getting to know him. 

“Hey Yoongi?” Y/N brought him out of his reverie, frowning as he spotted her cab waiting outside. 

“What’s that, silly girl?” 

“Can you kiss me?” She asked quietly, Yoongi positive that only a hybrid could hear her with how low she spoke. “Please?”

Stunned, Yoongi swallowed thickly, forgetting all about the cabbie waiting outside and honking furiously. She looked shy, and judging by her scent, she was anxious. Stepping closer, Yoongi’s body moved on its own, his hands slightly shaking as they reached to cup her delicate jaw. Y/N sucked in a breath, gaze dropping to his mouth, before her pretty eyes fluttered shut. Stooping, Yoongi shut his own eyes, his lips finding purchase on hers, her sweet sigh being swallowed up by him willingly. She gripped his wrists, still cradling her face, her teeth nipping lightly at his lower lip. Y/N pulled away all too soon, looking dazed, Yoongi equally as breathless. She reached up, flicking the angel wing earring dangling from his ear, giggling. 

“I’ll call you tomorrow, angel.” 

With that, she disappeared into the night, and the call never came.

“Y/N? Y/N, sweetheart, are you okay? What happened?” Yoongi, his voice somehow far away but definitely panicked, drew her out of whatever vision had taken over her body. She could feel herself being held, propped up against a heaving chest, a trembling hand cupping her cheek. “Y/N, please baby, open your eyes!”

Wheezing, Y/N could feel consciousness coming back to her piece by piece, the crack in Yoongi’s voice devastating her. Peeling her eyes open, she was met with Yoongi staring back at her, mortification and fear all over his face, ears pressed so flat to his skull she almost couldn’t see them. 

“What happened?” Y/N echoed Yoongi’s question back to him, her own voice scratchy. Yoongi, despite himself, pushed hair out of Y/N’s face, his whole body coiled with stress. 

“I don’t know. You passed out for a few seconds, but you s-sounded like you were having a terrible dream,” Yoongi’s voice cracked again, still holding her close to his chest. 

“I– it wasn’t terrible, it wasn’t a dream. I think,” Y/N spoke slowly, like her mouth was full of molasses. “I think it was a vision, like the ones my mom has.”

Y/N felt sapped of energy, entirely sagging into Yoongi’s embrace, forgetting all about how estranged they had been for weeks. When he put his hand over her’s, she got the vision. 

“What did you see, sweetheart?” Yoongi seemed to calm down a bit, though still held onto her like she was going to dissolve into smoke. 

“The bar, you and me. But from your perspective. Our kiss,” Y/N whispered, trying to replay the vision in her head over and over again, trying to remember how Yoongi’s lips felt on her. 

“You– you remembered?” Yoongi exclaimed, color flooding his cheeks. “Wait, what do you mean, from my perspective?”

“Like I was seeing it from your eyes,” Y/N explained tiredly, slumping further into his arms. “I’m sorry I didn’t call you the next day, angel.”

Yoongi went ramrod straight, a hiss coming from the back of his throat as he maneuvered Y/N upright by her upper arms so he could look into her eyes. 

“You need to stop apologizing to me,” Yoongi breathed, his eyebrows pulling together, pained. “I can’t do this anymore.”

“Can’t do what?” Y/N’s voice broke, moisture gathering at the corners of her eyes. 

“How many times am I going to make you cry?” Yoongi used a thumb to brush away the tears under her eyes, his anguished expression becoming even more pronounced. 

“I-I get that you don’t like me like that, Yoongi, b-but–”

“Y/N, I love you. I think I fell in love with you a year ago,” Yoongi confessed desperately, his other hand coming up to cup the side of her face. “As cheesy as that is. I love you, and it’s killing me.”

The world stopped, her heart stopped, and everything around her ceased to exist except for Yoongi. Tears drying up as if by command, Y/N searched for any sign of deception on his face or hidden in his body language, but came up with nothing. 

“You love me, too?” Y/N whimpered, heart aching from something else now. 

Yoongi leaned forward, resting his forehead against hers, his eyes falling shut as he exhaled shakily. She twisted her fists into the fabric of his tee shirt, craving his warmth, savoring how close he was. 

“So fucking much,” Yoongi confirmed, voice above a whisper. “I love you so fucking much, baby.”

“Yoongi…” Y/N breathed, heart about to beat out of her chest. “Love you…”

With a purr rounding out into a growl, Yoongi moved one of his hands to the small of Y/N’s waist, dragging her closer to him. Inches away, danger, but also tenderness, filled his hazel eyes. He was beautiful. 

“Kiss me,” Yoongi’s barely audible request sent fireworks off in her gut, his eyes shutting again as he nudged his nose against hers. “Please.”

How could she possibly deny him, her Yoongi, her love, when he asked her so sweetly?

Pulse racing, Y/N released her hold on his shirt, tucking a long strand of jet black hair behind his ear, humming when he shuddered, placing her hand on the side of his neck, his own pulse thrumming as fast as hers was. 

“Please, baby,” Yoongi repeated, the pet name making her stomach flip. Without any more hesitation, Y/N leaned up, perfectly slotting her lips against Yoongi’s, gentle, slow, and impossibly sweet. 

His lips, full and soft, were yielding against hers, letting her take the lead, his hands remaining still– one holding her face, the other on her waist. Locking lips for several moments, innocent and so full of love, Y/N drew away, winded and over the moon. Yoongi stayed close, eyes lidded and breathing labored, before he spoke again. 

“More. Kiss me more.”

Yoongi pulled her into his lap, his tail curling around her waist, one arm around her back and the other traveling down to the outside of her thigh. Y/N, growing shy, gave him a simple peck, face on fire. She never imagined that this was how her night was going to go, but she couldn’t even remember when they weren’t like this before. Not satisfied with the measly peck she planted on the corner of his mouth, Yoongi chased after her, gripping her jaw tightly and descending his lips on her once more, Y/N gasping in surprise. Yoongi took that opportunity to slide his tongue into her mouth, swallowing the startled moan she made hungrily, the tip of his tongue flicking against the roof of her mouth. 

Melting in his grip, Y/N kissed him back with renewed vigor, a hand moving to tangle in his silky hair, pleased that he took over the kiss, lungs screaming for air as Yoongi sucked on her lower lip with a purr. As if sensing that she needed to catch her breath, Yoongi released her lip with a pop, his mouth peppering kisses along her sensitive jaw voraciously, hand on her thigh rubbing up and down. Sighing blissfully, Y/N’s head tilted back when his lips trailed to her neck, mouth wet and kisses searing her flesh.

“Fuck, you smell so good,” Yoongi groaned into her neck, lightly sucking on a spot behind her ear that had her mewling. “Let me mark you…”

Words failing her, Y/N nodded desperately, eager to feel his teeth sink into her flesh. Chuckling darkly, Yoongi started muttering sweet nothings, dragging his tongue up the length of her throat. The hand on her thigh moved again, this time to grab a loose hold of the base of her neck, Y/N’s eyes rolling back into her skull with the weight of his palm in such a vulnerable spot. 

“Hold onto me, my love,” Yoongi murmured in her ear, Y/N obediently tightening her grip around Yoongi’s waist, whining at the sensation of his teeth tracing the vein fluttering with her erratic pulse making her see stars behind her eyelids. 

With one more open-mouthed kiss to her throat, Yoongi bit down, Y/N crying out his name, never feeling more alive than in that moment, in his arms, teeth in her neck. Tail protectively curling even tighter around her waist, Yoongi’s purrs were growing so loud, he sounded more predatory than ever. She didn’t know if it was the fact that he loved her, that he was kissing her, or the the side effects of scenting, but Y/N swore her soul ascended as he removed his teeth from the mark, a sensual swipe of his tongue sweeping over the wound to cauterize it. 

Growing entirely limp in his arms, Y/N barely had the energy to kiss him back when his lips returned to hers, whimpering at the tangy taste of her own blood on his tongue. And then, all at once, his lips were gone. 

“I don’t want to get carried away, sweetheart,” Yoongi’s voice was strained, planting a chaste kiss on her forehead with a hum.

“What if I do?” Y/N countered dopily, her head full of cotton and Yoongi. Yoongi barked out a hearty laugh, unable to help himself by pecking her lips once more, smoothing her hair into place. She probably looked like she got attacked.

“Not tonight, love,” Yoongi helped her stand, snickering at her whining protests. “Let’s take it slow, hmm? You need to get some rest, proper rest. So do I.”

“I guess you’re right,” Y/N admitted begrudgingly, though she wanted nothing more than Yoongi kissing her senseless all night, her body was sagging with exhaustion. “Your edginess has been keeping me up for nights on end.”

“I’m sorry, baby,” Yoongi apologized sincerely, his ears flattening against his skull again. Before he opened up the soundproofed door, he stopped, lifting her hand to his lips to brush a kiss over her knuckles. “I love you.”

Realizing, until they figured out how to tell the others, they’d have to keep their affections to themselves, Y/N pouted even further. Now that she had a taste of him, she was insatiable. 

“I love you, too, angel.”

Silently, Yoongi walked Y/N to her bedroom, stealing one last kiss after making sure the hallway was clear, Y/N floating on air as she sunk onto her bed, Yoongi shutting the door and leaving her to relive everything that happened mentally. 

On her nightstand, where she had left it, her phone chimed, making her flinch and swear. Blindly reaching for it, still a little hazy from the scenting and makeout session, she unlocked her phone, only to feel dread wash over her as she read the text that she received.

Hoseok 🦊: What the hell is going on with you and Yoongi? 

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Please do not repost or translate my work. Thank you!

[acourtofwhatthefuck]

#4 on your enemies to lovers prompts is giving Eris vibes

Loose Lips — Eris Vanserra x Reader

Enjoy! 💕

✧: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･

Rhysand was going to kill you. 

And so was Cassian.

Probably Azriel, too.

Maybe even Amren.

And Mor — sweet, lovely Mor — would be disappointed. Hurt.

You’d fucked up.

The realisation dawned on you upon waking. The rain that drizzled outside felt painfully fitting. 

You sat up in bed, clutching the sheet to your naked body. Your eyes crept over to the sleeping figure at your side.

Eris Vanserra’s hair was tousled on the pillow, mussed from sleep. His bare, chiselled chest rose and fell evenly in his slumber. His milky skin looked soft as cotton.

In a state of sleep, with no snarl or grimace or glare twisting his face, he was actually quite…beautiful.

And vulnerable. There was nothing stopping you from reaching for your dagger and plunging it into his heart right now. Something you’d fantasised about doing countless times. Something you’d promised him you would one day do. 

The male infuriated you something chronic. His history with your friends made your loathing of him a living, tangible thing.

And yet here you were in bed with him. Naked. You peeked beneath the sheet just to be sure — but the memory of the previous night was clear in your brain.

You were only supposed to deliver a message on Rhysand’s behalf. That was one of many tasks as his courtier. You were good with wielding words, with gleaning information. So rarely did you represent him without returning with something for him to turn over in his mind. 

The problem was that you hated Eris Vanserra so ferociously, your tongue always seemed to run away with you. 

Somehow…somehow, last night, your vicious, barbed words had turned into hungry kisses. To stumbling up the stairs of the concealed house you always met in to exchange information. To ripping each other’s clothes off and moaning until your voices were hoarse.

You’d crossed a damn line. And you didn’t know how.

You weren’t going to stick around to find out. 

With Eris still sleeping, you rose from the bed, keeping your movements quick and silent. You shucked your creased shirt on, making fast work of the buttons. Tugged your breeches on and shoved your feet into your shoes. 

You didn’t know how you were going to explain to Rhys where you’d been all night. How a simple message had kept you away for so long.

You’d have to find a stream to bathe in. To wash away the smell of sex. And the Autumn lordling.

Your legs feeling like jelly, you crossed the room in quick strides, not caring to lace your boots up.

“Going somewhere?”

Eris’s voice was decorated with a morning rasp. The sound took you right back to the breathy moans he’d whispered into your ear. You shook off the shiver that danced over your skin, clenching your jaw.

“I’m leaving.” Was all you offered.

“Shame.” Eris sat up in bed, stretching his arms above his head. “And you were such tantalising company, too.”

“Last night was a mistake.”

There was something positively lupine in the way he appraised your unkempt appearance and cocked an eyebrow. Amusement danced on his lips.

“That’s funny. I don’t recall you saying no.” His amber eyes raked over you. “You said yes a lot. And gods, yes. Oh fuck, yes—”

“So you’re a great lay.” You gritted your teeth. “It was still a mistake. And it’s never happening again.”

He said nothing. Merely stared at you with that hint of a smile on his lips. It incensed you so much that you wanted to launch something at him. Before you could make any more rash decisions, you turned—

“You know,” Eris lay back, resting his arms behind his head. “You may just have the prettiest orgasm face I’ve ever seen.” 

“You’re despicable.” 

He chuckled. “Perhaps. But I’m also very clever. You see, while you view last night as a mistake, I view it as an advantage.”

Walk away, your mind screamed at you. Don’t even entertain him. Last night wouldn’t have happened if you’d just walked away.

You couldn’t stop yourself grounding out, “How.”

“Because, darling, I now have leverage against you, don’t I?” Those amber eyes glittered. “Your friends would positively lose their shit if they knew you’d bedded me. Rhysand would probably toss you out on your ass, and where would you go?”

Prick. Gods, the delight you’d take in throttling him—

“What do you want, Eris? For me to get on my knees and beg you not to tell them?”

He smirked. “Pretty as you are on your knees — no, that’s not what I want.” He was enjoying every second of this. “You’re just going to have to start being a bit nicer to me, is all. You know — so I don’t slip up and accidentally blurt something.”

You snorted. “That’s what you want? For me to be nice to you? Does my hatred for you cut deep?”

“Hatred.” He chuckled. 

You stared at him, a muscle in your jaw ticking. Your mind still pleaded with you to just leave.

But there was something dangerously challenging in Eris’s eyes. Something you couldn’t yet walk away from.

He gazed back at you, cocking his head. “Do you want to know what I think?”

“Not particularly.”

“I think,” he ignored your retort, “that being nice to me won’t be as hard a feat as you like to pretend.”

“You—”

“I think that somewhere, deep down, in that cold, emotionally-constipated heart, that you quite like me.” He grinned, flashing teeth. “And I think it fucking tortures you.”

Your body was taut.

You didn’t care that he’d won this round of verbal sparring. That he’d had the last word.

You only cared about getting out of there. Far, far away from him.

Without uttering another syllable, you turned on your feet and stalked out of the room. Before the truth could show on your face.

“Until next time, then, love!” Eris yelled after you.

[megantrancyfanfics]

Hello 👋! I was wondering if I could put in a request? If not, please ignore 😊

Giyu x wife!fem!reader

She finds out about Giyu agreeing to commit seppuku (if Nezuko fails) @ the meeting and confronts him about it at home. He didn't tell her about it and she's upset (I know I would be) they have an argument but then it gets resolved and NSFW/fluff etc follows. If its a lame request I get it I just love plot w/ some spice 😉

Thanks again! 💜💜💜

Ahh I love this!! Thank you for requesting this! I hope I don’t fail you, and I hope you enjoy this!

Warnings: NSFW and Fluff

Will contain: talks of wanting a baby, talks of Seppuku, this will be more of a loving nsfw that turns slightly tougher so it’s not gonna be toe curling like my others but here’s what it’ll contain just a little bit of 69, (cunnilingus and Fellatio). Nothing too major but still be 18+

Enjoy 💕

~~~~~~~~~~

“How stupid can you get?!” You screamed at him, your hair was a disheveled mess, your face and eyes puffy, dried tears stained your cheeks. Your husband, giyuu had just returned home from a mission.

“What’s wrong? Did something happen?”

“How long were you going to wait until you told me what you’ve done!? Were you even going to tell me at all!? How could you!? And to think I had to learn from Sanemi out of all people!”

Your poor husband stood in the doorway of your shared home, a lost and concerned look plastered on his face.

“You’re willing to throw your whole life away over some- some demon you don’t even really know! Giyuu she’s a demon! They’re monsters! They can’t be trusted! I can’t believe what you did..” your chin started to tremble, a lump caught in your throat as you tried to continue to lecture him.

“I wanted to have a family with you, giyuu. I wanted to grow old with you, I wanted us to be together until we both died, and you’re willing to throw your life away..do I mean anything to you? Is this whole marriage one sided!?”

His heart tightened. Seeing you so distraught hurt him. “Y/n..I did what I did because I know nezuko won’t hurt another human. That day, when I ran into them on that mountain, she never tried to harm her brother, even though he was bleeding, she never dared to go near him in a vicious way. I’m not throwing my life away for nothing, I will grow old with you, I will be by your side until we die, because I won’t have to commit Seppuku.”

“But you don’t know 100% Giyuu!!” Your knees started to buckle as the flood gates finally opened, snot, and tears started to coat your face. Before you could fall, giyuu was quick to get to you, and hold you up.

“I love you so much giyuu it fucking hurts, it hurts so bad. And the fact you never told me about this hurts even more. What else are you hiding from me giyuu??”

Giyuu was quiet, he allowed you to scream and cry until you felt content. It’s the least he could do for not telling you about that. In his defense, when he told the master, he just started talking to you. But, he sees where you’re coming from, if you did something like that he would want to know so he could treat everyday with you like it was your last.

When you finally dialed down, giyuu finally spoke.

“…I want to have a baby too.”

“..what..?” You choked out, as you wiped your nose on the sleeve of your haori.

“You asked me if there was something else I was hiding from you. And the truth is, I want a baby too. I’ve wanted one for years..I just..didn’t want to bring it up so you didn’t feel pressure into having one.”

“Really..?”

A quick, and quiet yes was his response before putting a finger under your chin, lifting you slightly before capturing your lips with his.

It was a slow and sensual kiss, that didn’t last long, but had you wanting more.

“Why waste anymore time? We both want one, would you like to try for one?”

You nodded, butterflies quickly making their way into your stomach as he took your hand in his, and headed to the bedroom.

~~~~

It didn’t take much for the two of you to get into the mood, and before long, the room was filled with sounds of both of your groans and moans. His tongue exploring the inside of your pussy, making you slowly and gently ride his face. He enjoyed it. He enjoyed the idea of you getting off on just his tongue. He loved hearing your muffled gasp when his tongue would abuse your clit. He loved feeling when he did that of your legs quivering just a bit. But god did he love the feeling of your tongue abusing his tip. He loved the way you’d swirl your tongue around his tip, before taking him almost all the way inside your mouth. Your mouth was so small compared to the girth of his cock. He adored feeling you try to take more of him in, your throat clamping down as you gagged. The feeling of his cock getting wetter when you pulled up to spit on it. He had to constantly keep focusing on pleasuring you so he wouldn’t bust right then and there.

“M-more please..” you begged, your once gentle movements on his tongue becoming more desperate, your attention now fully on the climax that was building up inside of you, and what kind of man would he be to deny you? He spread your lips before devouring your cunt again, his tongue going as deep as it could. Your moans became higher pitched as you coated is face in your cum. He allowed you to ride out your high before he pushed you forward, your ass up in the air.

“Are you sure you want this?” He asked, rubbing his slobbered covered cock against your folds.

“Please, I want a baby so bad. I want your cock so bad”

He slowly slid his cock into your went folds, both of you letting out a moan. Your pussy was being spread out in the most delicious way. You felt full by the time he bottomed out inside of you.

His thrusts were slow and sensual, but with his cock being so thick he rubbed all of the right spots inside of you, making your legs shake in no time. Your pussy was clamping down onto his, causing his cock to twitch inside you.

“Are you close, darling?”

You nodded, his thrusts becoming a bit faster and less timed as both of your highs washed over you quicker than both of you would like to have admitted.

Your body felt warm as his cum leaked inside of you, causing you to shiver.

“You’re doing so good for me, are you tired?” He asked leaning down, and littering your back with kisses.

“A little.”

“You can handle one more round can’t you baby? I’ve missed you so much and I wanna make sure I put a baby in you, so I wanna use you just one more time to make sure in a few months you’ll be walking around with a swollen belly.”

Your pussy fluttered around his cock, making him let out a quick chuckle. “You liked hearing that? Does that turn you on?” He slid his cock out until just the tip was still inside, before he quickly shoved his cock back inside of you, causing your legs to shake.

“Are you sensitive doll? I’m sorry. Maybe you’ll cum more than twice tonight.” He says before placing his hands on your hips, his grip tight enough to leave bruises.

His thrusts were quicker, rougher, and deeper than before, you were fearful you’d leak out some of his cum, but your brain was turning to mush with every thrust. Your pussy tightened around him once more, but he didn’t dare slow down, if anything it made him speed up more. He wanted to see a mixture of his cum and yours drip out of you. He was determined to see it. Besides, if some of his cum did leak out, and you didn’t get pregnant, he’ll make sure to try again and again until you were.

Your moans filled the room, your hips had started moving on their own, trying to match the pace of his to quicken your release. You were close, so close. Your vision was blurred as you saw stars once giyuu moved a hand from your hip to your clit to give you some extra stimulation.

Your high was quick to wash over you, but giyuu didn’t slow down, you became overstimulated, creaming on his cock as his high started to bubble up inside him.

“I’m going to make sure you’re filled to the brim with my cum. I’m going to pump you so full of my cum that it’s gonna drip out of you.”

“Please, I want that so bad please please please”

New kink unlocked: he loved hearing you beg, it had him biting his lip as his hips stuttered, his cum coming out in thick long ropes inside of you.

The both of you took a few minutes to catch your breaths, giyuu couldn’t help but look down, to see your creamy cunt drip just a little bit of his cum onto the bed.

“There’s no way I’m not pregnant..I feel so full.” You said softly, giyuu’s cheeks getting red as he pictured you holding their future kid. His heart felt like it melted. He slowly pulled out his cock, and helped you get under the covers. He made sure you were covered before holding you close to him.

Maybe it was post nut, or maybe giyuu was just speaking from the heart, but he went on and on about how pretty you’d look carrying his kid, and how he was excited to come home from missions or training to you singing, or talking to the baby.

Both of you can only hope there is a little baby that was made that night.

[thriftedtchotchkes]

You take my self control

summary: your first act of brutality leaves you reeling, but you’d do it all over again if it meant saving joel’s life. in the aftermath, you realize you’ve started to crave that violence and it terrifies you. joel steps in to satisfy your craving.

pairing: joel miller x f!reader

warnings: 18+ MDNI, extremely graphic depictions of violence, dark themes, blood and injuries, dead clicker, angst, comfort, ptsd, reader struggles, undefined age gap, established relationship, language, smut, piv, rough sex, oral (female receiving), fingering, minor dom!joel, guided handjob, pet names

word count: 3.4k

a/n: whew, this one is a doozy. the original plan was to write something fluffy, but then i wrote this instead 🥲 based on moments from kill bill vol. 1 and sin city, and the title is from the song self control by laura branigan! please lmk if i missed anything in the warnings and i’ll add it asap. it’s a lot darker than my last fic, but i’ve always wanted to write this story, so i hope you enjoy! as always, thoughts and feedback are always appreciated 💕

You can’t see. You can’t hear anything at all. Numbness permeates your limbs, and your thoughts are a mishmash of gnashing teeth and nails, sharp and jagged like claws, and so, so much red.

There’s something warm and sticky on your face and hands. It’s up your nose, trickling into your open mouth, and it tastes like salt and iron. Blood…it must be blood. You hope it’s your own but, in the dark recesses of your mind, you know it’s someone else’s. It tastes all wrong, like the fact that you’re tasting it all means you’re alive and you really shouldn’t be.

He’s yelling, or at least you think it’s him. Sound returns to your ears all at once and it’s fucking loud.

Joel, stop, it hurts. 

Everything hurts so much now, and you feel it everywhere—scratches down your arms and legs, your heart slamming an angry beat against your temples.

Fuck, you’re probably bit. Joel sounds frantic and terrified, but you don’t know why. There are massive gaps in your memory and you can’t remember how you got here, knees heavy on the ground, your thighs bracketing the sides of a dead clicker. 

A woman—you think it used to be a woman. It’s hard to tell after the carnage. The fragments of bone and wet chunks of flesh and fungus where her head should be tell a different story now. You desperately wish your sight hadn’t returned at all, but it’s too late and you can’t unsee it. You can’t unsee her.

The muscles in your arms and hands burn something vicious, and when they give out, something hard clangs to the ground. A metal pipe. 

Joel calls out to you again, and he sounds closer this time.

“...go…have to go now…can’t…here…” 

Strong hands tug on your arm and pull you to your feet, and suddenly you’re running. Joel is all but dragging you out of what looks like the living room of a modern, suburban home, and you do your best not to trip on tipped-over furniture. 

You look back over your shoulder and the body is still lying there, lifeless. You’re not sure why you thought it would be chasing you, hungry mouth snapping at your throat; it’s dead. Because you killed it.

You’re exhausted and your legs are sore, but when you start to slow down, Joel’s hand tightens around yours and tugs harder.

“We have to go, baby, we can’t stay here.” Ah, that’s what he was saying before. “I know it hurts, but you gotta keep goin’. Just a little longer, you gotta keep it up for a little bit longer.” He should be out of breath by now, but he’s running on fear and adrenaline, and you let it fuel you, too.

When you make it outside, the sky is a clear, cloudless blue above you and the sun is brighter than you’ve ever seen it. It makes your skin itch, and you’re suddenly hyperaware of the dirt and dried blood matting your hair and caked under your fingernails.

Instinctively, your hand rises to shield your eyes. It’s effective enough that you’re able to take in your surroundings as they fly by and, while they’re familiar, you still can’t remember what you were doing here in the first place.

“Joel, I’m…I-I’m—I can’t. I can’t run anymore, p-please—,” you whimper, chest heaving with exertion. House, driveway, lawn—they repeat over and over and over again. They’re starting to blur together, and your tunneling vision worsens until darkness consumes you. “...Joel…”

And then everything goes black.

You’re…surrounded. By something that feels soft and warm and solid against your aching skin, and it moves steadily against you, rising and falling. Your head tilts to the side and it’s Joel breathing into you, his head at home in the crook of your neck, arms wrapped loosely around you. 

You nuzzle your nose into his graying hair, pressing a kiss there, and a sharp intake of breath follows as he blinks awake blearily.

“Hey, baby,” you murmur. He hums something deep and unintelligible in response, tilting his head back to mouth wetly at the base of your throat. 

You let out a sigh of relief. If Joel’s in bed with you like this, it means you’re not infected. Hurt and in pain, yes, but you’re both alive and that’s all that matters. You saved his life out there and you’d do it all over again, even at the cost of your own.

Your memories are returning quickly now, like waves violently crashing to shore after a storm, and the images are gruesome. What you did to protect Joel was barbaric, but you acted on impulse, out of rage and desperation.

The clicker came out of nowhere. You were searching an abandoned house for supplies when it lunged out of a closet, tackling Joel to the ground. The metal pipe in his hand clattered to the ground at your feet and you picked it up as quickly as it fell.

Then, something inside you snapped and you reacted. It was dead after the second or third blow to the head, but you kept going anyway, angry at it for almost stealing Joel away and destabilized by the fear of losing him. 

Blood sprayed from every artery you severed and after each new crack in its skull, and it showered down like rain, thick and warm against your skin. It made you feel powerful, like you were in control for the first time in your life. You enjoyed it.

Only when you realized the pipe was connecting with wet, dented pieces of floorboard instead of flesh did you finally stop.

You remember everything now.

“I’m not sorry,” you tell him, staring vacantly at the popcorn ceiling of your bedroom. He sighs, and you think he’s about to start lecturing you. You don’t want to hear it. You barely want to talk about it at all. “You could’ve died, Joel. If you think for one second I’d ever let that happen, you’re out of your mind.”

He squeezes you a little tighter, mindful of your injuries, but doesn’t respond. Silence blankets you for a moment, and then it breaks once he realizes you’re trembling and your eyes and cheeks are wet with tears.

You’re not sure when you started crying, but you can’t seem to stop, and the frustration in his eyes lessens with each soft hiccup that escapes your lips.

“Sweetheart,” he starts, thumbing away the tears as they fall. He leaves his hand there, gently cupping your cheek, and you lean into his touch. You can feel the fight leaving his body; it’s just not worth it anymore, not after everything you’ve been through. Sighing, he drops his head to rest on your collarbone. “There’s nothin’ to be sorry for. I shoulda been payin’ more attention, been more cautious. Then, you wouldn’t have had to…you wouldn’t be—” He’s fumbling his words. Joel’s never been good at conversations like these, but he’s trying. “...I’m tryna say it’s not your fault. You did what you had to.”

It’s not his fault, either. In the aftermath of everything, no one’s to blame, but it doesn’t help how much it still hurts. How broken you feel.

“Joel, I—,” the tears flow freely and you struggle to suppress a sob. “I’m a monster. You saw what I did…I just—I couldn’t stop. I know she wasn’t a person anymore, I know that, but…b-but I think I liked it. What does that say about me; what does that make me?” You’re spiraling now. He shifts up the bed to hold you properly and rocks you against his chest for a while, like he’s soothing a child. 

“It makes you human,” he murmurs into your hair, running his hands up and down your sides. Your eyes flutter closed as you focus on the feeling of his warm, calloused fingers on your skin.

“I’m scared, Joel,” you whisper. “Whatever that was, it feels like it’s a part of me now—like…I’ll be fighting it forever.” His eyes darken, even as he kisses the side of your head gently once, then twice. “I close my eyes and she’s there. I can hear her, feel her. I…I feel like I’m losing my mind.” 

That fucking neighborhood. Why the fuck were you even in that neighborhood? There wasn’t even anything useful in any of those houses. You try to tell yourself that all of it could’ve been avoided, if you had just decided to head straight back to Jackson, but it’s a fantasy. In this world, it was inevitable. 

Joel still hasn’t answered you. Instead, he presses his lips to your throat again, this time with teeth, and sucks hard where your neck meets your shoulder. You should be wondering why he’s not responding when you’re so clearly distraught, but the only thing you can think about is the delicious pain blooming under your skin. When he finally speaks, it’s a low hum against the fresh bruise.

“I never wanted this for ya,” he nips at you sharply, his beard dragging roughly against your sensitive skin, and you gasp, burying your fingers in his hair and tugging. He groans, hips stuttering into your thigh, and the need to feel him bare and heavy on top of you is overwhelming. “I tried to protect ya—wanted to save you from this. All of it. But I failed ya.” There’s anger in his voice now, and it feels violent. He’s aggressive in the way he touches you, and though you know he’d never purposely hurt you, you think you want him to. “This world takes and takes and takes, and we’re forced to adapt,” he all but growls. “You’re no more a monster than anyone else.”

Rationally, you know it’s true. The bloodlust you feel—you’ve seen it before, in the eyes of raiders you’ve come across on the outside and in the hungry gaze of infected, all of them desperate to tear into you, to take what they want. Looking into Joel’s eyes now, you see it there, too.

The room feels hotter, somehow, like his body heat suddenly spiked, and it draws you in like a moth to a flame. You press your hand into the soft skin of his stomach and it burns like molten lava, begging you to play with fire. 

He snatches your hand from where it’s splayed beneath his shirt and drags it under the waistband of his sweatpants to cup his hardening cock, and you suck in a harsh breath through your teeth. Fuuuuuck. You’re not in charge here, you realize, not now.

“Tonight, I want you to give in to me, alright? You let me take control. ‘m gonna fix it,” he grits out. “Gonna fix everythin’, just need you to trust me,” and you do. You’ll let yourself go, because even though that dark, horrible part of you doesn’t want to submit to him, your body clearly does. It’s a power struggle you hope you lose.

His hand doesn’t leave yours once it’s wrapped around him and, instead, leads your fingers to grip him tightly as he sets a strong, steady pace. You give him a rough squeeze, and he throbs, leaking a bead of precum onto your fingers that you thumb over his head, digging your nail into the slit.

Joel chokes out a moan, hand releasing yours to bury itself in your hair, and begins to fuck your fist in earnest, each thrust punctuated with a sharp exhale. It’s like gripping steel, hard and smooth and searing.

Or a metal pipe. Fucking hell, he feels so much like that fucking metal pipe and you clench down around nothing, your cunt soaked and devastatingly empty. More precum leaks from the tip, and he’s so wet now, your palm sliding easily up his cock and back down to squeeze the base. 

It makes you see red—viscous, red blood coating your fingers, and you release him, pulling your hand away to suck it off each one. It’s not real. Of course, it’s not real. The creamy liquid on your fingers tastes like Joel, bitter and heady, but still, you can’t get the thought of his blood in your mouth out of your head now.

God, that’s so fucked up. You must look half crazed right now, pupils blown wide as you look up at him through your lashes,  each glistening finger pulling from your mouth with a pop.  But he looks angry at what he sees in your eyes, and suddenly both of his hands are on your hips and he’s slamming you onto your back, pressing you into the mattress with his entire weight. You’re not following his rules.

“Baby…baby,” he moans, finally brushing his lips against yours, soft and wet, and licking a line across the roof of your mouth as he grinds into your aching pussy. “Stop fightin’ me. Just…focus on me, right here. Lemme make you feel good.” You whine pathetically into his mouth as he runs his hands up your sides, fingers catching on your shirt and dragging up until his thumbs brush the underside of your tits. 

Lifting your shirt up just enough to expose your pebbling nipples, he leans back on his heels and looks down at you hungrily, like he wants to devour you whole. And fuck, you need him to. But you also want to take and take and take, itching for the fight. 

His head lolls to the side as he takes you in. “Fuck, baby…,” he mumbles, as he drops a hand to palm himself. “You’re so goddamn beautiful like this. So good for me, my—” He pauses to squeeze his cock, and groans out, “...my brave, strong girl.” 

There’s a massive wet patch on the front of his sweatpants from where you soaked him through your underwear, and his eyes roll back when he feels it, warm and sticky against his fingertips. Your mouth waters and you’re starting to feel a little desperate now that he’s stopped touching you. You don’t even notice the whine that escapes your lips as he continues to jerk himself off through the fabric.

“What, brave girl?” he coos, biting back a growl at the warring emotions on your pretty features. He reaches forward to thumb a nipple, his touch rough and calloused. “I promised I’d make ya feel good, didn’t I?” He tweaks it and you keen, hips canting upward in search of friction. “Feels that good, huh?” he rasps, smug at how your body responds to him.

A strong hand forces your hips back onto the bed, trapping you against the mattress, and you feel a sudden, intense urge to slap him. Heat blooms in your lower belly and you feel yourself gush at the thought. “Joel…fuck, just fucking touch me. Please.” 

The sides of his mouth quirk down and he nods, like he’s thinking it over. Asshole. You know you’re still breaking his rules but, by now, you’re too horny to care. You don’t think sex with Joel has ever been like this, nor do you think you’ve ever been this turned on in your life. Christ, if he doesn’t fuck you soon—

You lurch forward to tug at his pants in a moment of weakness, but he’s quicker than you and snatches your wrists, pinning them above your head. The scratches on your arms are still raw and angry, and the skin pulls painfully as he tightens his hold. It’s another reminder of earlier today, and you muster up all of the strength in your body to rip your arms out of his grip, but he shoves you down by your shoulders. 

“If you keep that up, I’m not gonna give you this,” he warns you, flipping the waistband of his pants down just enough to free his cock, thick and leaking all over itself. Your thighs squeeze together at the sight of it, and you abruptly feel remorseful, ready to beg for it if you have to.

Fuck, he’s powerful. And fuck, his tactic is working. The power struggle you hoped you’d lose—you’re pretty sure you just lost. You can tell the moment Joel recognizes acceptance on your face and, immediately, you’re being yanked onto your hands and knees, ass in the air and face smushed on one side against the mattress. He’s rewarding you.

It’s like his hands are laser-focused and, yet, still everywhere all at once. 

“Brave girl,” he murmurs, mouthing a wet trail down your spine. “That’s my girl—g-good, good girl.” He’s already starting to stutter, his voice breathless and shaky. Joel gets mouthy when he’s pussy-drunk, like he just can’t help but verbalize every filthy, incoherent thought when he’s inside you.

You clench in anticipation as he grinds his painfully hard cock into your ass, precum soaking into your underwear and mixing with your own slick. He slides the offending fabric halfway down your thighs and then stops, and you can feel his breath, hot and humid, against your cunt as he spreads your legs for better access. 

He wastes no time licking a wide stripe up your sopping core before swirling his tongue against your clit and sucking hard. It punches a moan out of your chest and your mind goes blank as you grind back into his mouth. The sound of skin slapping roughly against skin reaches your ears and you realize he’s jerking himself off as he devours you, groaning raggedly as he fucks into you with his tongue. 

What the fuck, you’re so fucking close already. Frantic, you reach out to Joel behind you, managing to tug a fistful of his hair. “J-Joel…ngh, fuck, ‘m gonna cum,” you whine pathetically, drooling onto the sheets. “I can’t…I— please, ‘m so empty. Don’t make me c-cum empty, Joel.” 

It happens so fast. Your entire body is thrown forward with the weight of him, as he sheathes himself in your heat to the hilt in one violently powerful thrust, and oh, oh fuck, you’ll never get used to how big Joel is. The stretch is almost painful and you bear down on him, not expecting the sudden intrusion.

“Baby…girl. Squeezin’ me so tight, so f-fucking tight,” he moans helplessly, already starting to babble as he fucks into you. “Fuck, your pussy gets s-so tight when you’re…,” he reaches around to rub circles into your clit and you start to pulse around him, “about—ngh, to cum.” 

With his other hand, he grips the back of your neck, squeezing just enough to remind you who’s in control; of your pleasure, of your safety. The new angle drives his cock directly into that soft, spongy spot inside you that has your jaw dropping, staccatoed moans punched out of your lungs with each thrust. 

“‘m gonna cum. Fuuck, fuck, ‘m cumming…Joel, ‘m—,” your pussy convulses hard, and you soak his cock as you cum with a hoarse shout. Joel growls over your shoulder, slamming into you over and over, your pussy squelching loud and wet.

Your arms and legs give out, and Joel grips your hips with both hands, hovering above your ass as he fucks into you, thrusts harder and more frantic. He’s so close, the telltale signs obvious to you, now. 

He barely has time to choke out a panicked, “where?” and hear you moan, “on my face,” before he’s thrusting once, twice, and pulling out, rolling you over and bracketing your head with his thighs. You rub your hands up and down them as he jerks himself off above you. For a moment, he gazes down at you in wonder, like maybe you’re a beautiful figment of his imagination, and then he’s cumming hard.

Joel sounds wrecked, his groan long and drawn out, as his cock spurts thick ropes across your lips and tongue, dribbling down your chin and onto your chest. Shifting down your body, he kisses you deeply, licking into your mouth and tasting himself on your tongue. He pulls away, cradling your face in his hands.

“I told you I’d fix it.”

And he did. He put your broken pieces back together and overwrote your bad memories. 

Now, all you see, all you can hear is Joel. Your thoughts are a mishmash of searing hot skin, his lips, soft and wet against yours, and mind-numbing pleasure.

Your skin is still warm and sticky with his release, and it tastes so undeniably like him. Woody and salty, and right.

It’s quiet, now—peaceful—and everything doesn’t hurt so much anymore. 

Strong arms pull you close and you sigh, tired and relieved, into his embrace. Joel holds you tighter as you drift off to sleep, murmuring something you don’t quite catch against your cheek, and you feel safe. 

From the monsters beyond the walls and the one in the mirror.

thanks for reading! 💕

[olenvasynyt]

What’s your take on Beron? Him saying that he fought to keep his family alive UTM keeps me up at night. Do you think there was ever a moment in his life that he showed kindness to his family? Or, was warm to Lucien at any point?

Ugh the Vanserra family is so interesting. And it’s because of 🫶daddy issues 😂😭

I have too many headcanons around Beron and the Vanserras, so I guess I got to trim it down a bit.

With LoA: she was young when she was sold off to Beron by her family. I’m not exactly sure if it was before or after Beron was High Lord but either way, LoA was described to be all smiles before their marriage. And I think there were signs that Beron was awful, but I don’t think he was initially. He was probably very manipulative, and LoA, being young, might have been manipulated by him and also her family to believe that this was right, that this was her duty in court.

Going to be obnoxious and post a quote from my fanfic, sorry. No big spoilers.

From chapter 5:

They all assured her that she belonged here. Her father, the previous High Lord before his untimely death…even her sisters were thrilled at the news of her betrothal to the heir to the Autumn Court. So she tried to hold onto the hope that they were right.

Despite that tug at her ribs that wanted her to stray somewhere else.

She was so unbearably naive back then. So hopeful, despite all of the little signs she tried hard to ignore; the angry fire flickering in Beron’s eyes despite his polite smile…the dark hallways that even a torch couldn’t brighten. Of course that hope was too green to last. And it dwindled for more than two centuries until it was nearly gone. The glass of The Canopy became dirty, the couches began to sag and the tea table collected dust.

She stroked Lucien’s hair again, breathing in its scent, letting its softness fill her with comfort.

After over two hundred years, hope was at her fingertips once again.

Beron is soooo much more vicious behind closed doors. He’s an asshole in public too, but he also makes a show of holding LoA’s hand, talking about keeping her safe. He’s a manipulative abuser. And like all abusers, he tries to manipulate and lie to his wife and children, and attacks when things don’t go his way. So he probably has been kind of LoA and his sons, and I think especially Eris, as his eldest. He was their first child, and Beron probably immediately set into place what he expects from his children.

Beron enjoys hierarchies, competition, etc. We can see this from his sons, from how he treats the lesser fae, to the blood duel, which is an Autumn court tradition. And he teaches his sons that. And again, he is an abuser, so he probably has different ways of going about that: switching from approval to disappointment and anger when his sons do something wrong; turning his sons against each other to win his approval. It’s psychological abuse.

Lucien is different, though. And I think he brings out another aspect of Beron that’s common in abusers: pride. Beron is very prideful, and that could already be a motivator before Lucien was born, but Lucien upset that pride because he’s proof LoA disobeyed him. He is proof of LoA’s infidelity, and abusers hate proof. They hate their rules being disrespected. So with Beron’s pride, it was probably very hard for him to continue faux love and manipulation he had with his other sons with Lucien. Because though he may not have known about Helion and LoA’s affair from the start, he suspected. And he probably was so angry it was impossible for him to even pretend he loves or approves of Lucien. Plus abusing Lucien is a way to hurt LoA for her betrayal too.

Such a fun topic, right? 💕 thanks for the ask haha!

[steviewashere]

It's Enough

Rating: General CW: Implied/Possible Depression Tags: Established Relationship, Steve Harrington Needs a Hug, And Gets One, Eddie Munson is a Sweetheart, Steve Harrington is a Sweetheart, Other Characters Mentioned, Bittersweet, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Cuddling

For the @steddielovemonth prompt: "Love is showing up when someone doesn't ask."

💕—————💕

Eddie got a key for Steve’s house when they first started dating. Just something that Steve did as a gesture that said, “You’re part of my permanent fixture of people.” Which, thank God he got a key or else he wouldn’t be able to come check in on his lovely, lovely, lovely boyfriend.

Especially when said boyfriend seems to have gone dark on all the people in his life.

It started with Robin telling him that Steve no-called, no-showed his shift at Family Video. Strange, he had thought. Though, he’d heard that Steve’s done it a few times before. Once when he had a migraine and was vomiting so profusely that he was simply too exhausted to reach his phone. Another, his bat wounds were infected and he was laid up in the hospital. There was kind of recently where Steve just slept through the entire day, nightmares riddling him the night before. Eddie had been there for that day, had to calm Steve down when he realized he missed work, had even held him as he shook from the come down of another nightmare.

So Eddie thought it was a little odd, but not all that different from how Steve can be if given dire circumstances.

Though, then Dustin radios him. “Steve didn’t pick us up from school today. He promised he would, but I guess he couldn’t? I don’t know. I can’t get a hold of him.”

That made the hairs on Eddie’s neck and arms stand up. Because, Steve doesn’t do shit like that. It’s Eddie, usually, who forgets. But Steve? No way, Eddie had thought. Yet, no way turned to, Okay, maybe he did. Eddie made it his duty to pick all the party members up and drop them off at their respective houses.

However, that wasn’t the final straw to make Eddie go to Steve’s.

No, what crumbled his resolve was hearing Max on the radio. She didn’t go to school today. Her limbs aching in a way that made it impossible for her to move from bed. Dustin had told Eddie that. He’s even witnessed it, the poor girl. Her voice came through the radio, small and scared, “Steve?” But there wasn’t a response. “Steve, please, are you there? I—I had a dream about the—“ And her voice trapped in her throat, the cut off of a sob making itself apparent over the radio wave. She forgot to switch to a private channel. She’ll do that, now, apparently. It was mentioned in passing that the channel dial was hard for her to navigate without being able to see all that clearly. She was half-blind, for Pete’s sake.

Eddie comforted her through whatever nightmare shook her. The bats, he concluded. Because, though she wasn’t there to witness it, her mind filled in the blanks easy enough. Vicious, red, raw, bleeding images.

His hackles rose. He beelined for his van. He scurried his ass over to Steve’s house. Because, What the fuck is happening today? And more importantly, He needs me. Maybe that was a selfish thought. Though, maybe, it was a necessary thought.

He creeped through the foyer. Easily realizing that neither of Steve’s parents were home. Tiptoed his sneakers off by the front door. And called out, gentle yet as loud as he could, “Steve? Are you home?”

There wasn’t a response, which made Eddie’s stomach twist. He made his way up the stairs, coming to the cracked opening of Steve’s bedroom door. There was a lump on his bed, Steve’s body. But Eddie couldn’t really tell if he was alive or not, all things considered.

Coming to Steve’s bedside and crouching down, he noticed that Steve was awake. Wide-eyed, glistening, staring through to nothing. Eddie tried to bring a palm up to cup the side of Steve’s face, but that only made him flinch away from the touch. “Stevie?” Eddie hesitated. “Baby, are you alright?”

Steve whimpered in response. He curled farther into his blanket, hands white-knuckling on the edge, head burying itself into his pillow.

Eddie hushed gently. “It’s alright, sweetheart. It’s Eddie,” he tried to cajole. “Just came to check on ‘ya.” He settled down on his butt, criss-crossing on the carpet. Hands folding in his lap. HIs eyes still attentive on Steve.

“Bad day,” Steve muttered.

“That’s alright,” Eddie assured. “It’s okay to have a bad day. Why is—“ He hesitated momentarily. This probably wasn’t going to be a very comforting conversation to have. “Why is it a bad day, Steve?”

He shrugged. “Something’s…Something is missing,” Steve articulated, or at least attempted to. “Like…I don’t know. I don’t know, Eddie. I don’t know.” His voice produced a nasally quality, wet where it shouldn’t be. Getting worked up. “My chest hurts,” he quietly sobbed.

“Oh, honey,” Eddie cooed. He rose up onto his knees. Palms down on the edge of Steve’s mattress. “Can I—Are you okay with me—“

“Please,” Steve cried out. And the way it reached from within his chest made Eddie shudder. It clawed itself out of Steve. Almost bubbling and bursting to the surface. “Please, Eddie,” he had begun to plead, “Come here. I need—“

Eddie took no time at all. Chucking his jacket to the floor. Crawling under the duvet. Curling his body around Steve’s trembling back. He wrapped his arms around Steve’s sturdy torso, hands interlocking and squeezing against the subtle softness of his belly, fingers splaying against his naked skin. He pressed his forehead between Steve’s mole-dotted shoulder blades, brushing his lips over the moles within distance. Shutting his eyes against the shuddering breaths in front of him. Nosing at the top notches of Steve’s spine.

“I gotcha, love bug,” he whispered, “I gotcha and I ain’t going anywhere. Promise, baby. I promise.”

He knew that Steve didn’t like showing himself when he cried. But something about this was different, to its core, Eddie could tell. Something almost hollow and echoing to Steve. Something hungry and aching all at the same time. Eddie never wanted to let go.

Steve shifted in the hold. Turning over completely so that his head was tucked under Eddie’s chin, face burrowed in his chest, arms wrapping around Eddie—low near his hips. He was scrunching himself as to not take up the most amount of room. And Eddie hated it with a great passion. Hated it so much. But realized, in that moment, it was not worth the fight. That, in the throes of loving somebody like Steve, that things need to run their course.

Even as devastating as they are.

Eventually, when Steve calmed and went boneless yet hiccuping in Eddie’s hold, only then did Eddie pull away. Only slightly, as to not startle the stilted air between them. Only to peer a little, to look and gaze and cherish.

Before Steve could even open his mouth, Eddie murmured, “Don’t apologize. It’s alright, love bug. You’ll be okay. Can you…Are you okay to tell me what happened?”

Again, Steve shrugged. “I don’t know,” he whispered. “Just woke up feeling sticky and wrung out and…Empty, I don’t know. Tired.”

Eddie nodded. His eyes sunk in a little, going soft and sad in understanding. “Okay,” he muttered. And cuddled back in, as close as their bodies would let them. “Okay, Steve. That’s enough. ’T’s all I needed to hear, sweetheart.”

Steve sighed against him. His exhaustion noticeable, heavy and armored. Before he drifted, though, he murmured, “Thank you for coming over.”

“Thank you for letting me in,” Eddie responded. His palm slid over Steve’s naked, mottled back. Kissed the top of his head. And pushed himself in closer. “Love you.”

“Love you, too,” Steve could only muster as a whisper.

And that was enough.

💕—————💕

[corazondebeskar-reads]

fic recs - Joel Miller (one-shots pt. 1)

fic recs for one-shots starring Joel Miller.

Key: 🏴 = dark, 💕 = fluff, ⛓ = rough/bdsm elements, 💀 = dead dove do not eat

Mind the warnings, and please read responsibly. you control your own media consumption.

All Fic Recs | TLOU Fic Recs | Joel series | one-shots pt. 2

dark!Joel

*note: if fics fit multiple categories but contain dark!Joel, they will go here only. Mind the warnings, and please read responsibly. you control your own media consumption.

🏴💀 Nightmare Before Christmas by @katiexpunk

Summary: As an escort, you’ve found yourself in some pretty fucked up situations before. Years of experience have taught you to navigate such situations with a combination of tact and assertiveness. Most of the time the men who exude an air of sleaze shrivel back into the corner, embarrassed and limp dicked.  Most of the time.  Tonight is not one of those times.

🏴⛓ truth or dare by @joelscruff

summary: a harmless game of truth or dare ends with you tied up in a certain mysterious neighbor's garage.

🏴His Protection by @absurdthirst

summary: When David's group takes you and Ellie to their settlement, you warn them that Joel will come for you. Knowing that he will do whatever it takes to get back those under his protection.

🏴 hostage by @atticrissfinch

summary: when you get lost in the woods, a stranger offers to help you get back to your camping site. when your gut tells you to run, you run--until he catches you.

🏴 ensnare by @ozarkthedog

summary: despite your reluctance, joel wants to fill you up.

🏴vicious by @sinsofsummers

summary: joel fucks you in his gas mask.

🏴 mothman fever by @beskarandblasters

summary: You and your friends head to Point Pleasant, West Virginia in late September for the Mothman Festival. And that’s where you meet Joel Miller, a fellow Mothman enthusiast. But once you spend some time alone with him you realize that he’s not who he says he is.

🏴 Joel Fucking Miller by @pedroshotwifey

summary: You and Joel Miller have been sworn enemies from the very start, both of you at each other’s other's throats since the first glance. What he can't know is that you have been harboring a stubborn crush on him this whole time---It’s not until he has you up against a wall that you realize he feels the same way.

🏴 Keep Cry'n & Cry Harder by @romana-after-dark

summary: Joel kidnaps you, but can't even wait long enough to put his dick inside you to cum.

🏴 keep on your mean side by @milla-frenchy and @aurorawritestoescape

summary: Joel takes you to Degradation Town

🏴💀 Mercy by @lokischocolatefountain

summary: Stranded alone in the woods and left to die, all you can ask of Joel Miller is the mercy of a quick death. He is willing to give it to you, but he needs something for himself as well.

🏴 Hurt and Protect by @lokischocolatefountain

summary: In a world where politeness wasn’t part of trade, it helped to have someone like Joel Miller as your protector. But to be his to protect also meant being his to hurt.

🏴down to the ankles by @atinylittlepain

summary: monsters are made of myths. in this story, two myths become one. two myths are in love. they are in wretched love.

🏴💀 no soul to sell by @atticrissfinch

summary: divorced joel is fucking his way through his newly acquired bachelor status, when he remembers you—the (recent) ex-girlfriend of his son—are now an option for him. 

bdsm

fics with explicitly d/s dynamics or play, not just rough sex/kinks, dom!Joel unless otherwise noted

⛓ Push & Pull by @javiscigarette

summary: Joel just realllyyy likes your dress

⛓ curled in by @bonezone44

summary: joel ties you up and makes you suck his toes and get off on his foot

⛓ something new by @atticrissfinch

*this is technically part of a series but it's a standalone piece.

summary: Joel wants to introduce you to a new kink (watersports).

⛓ spend all your love making time by @haylzcyon (sub!Joel)

summary: You're everything Joel never knew he needed.

⛓ slumber by @cool-iguana

summary: Joel needs you, but you’re asleep. Giving in to desperation, he can’t help himself from making you feel good.

⛓ what do you need? by @whatsnewalycat

summary: brat tamer!Joel and brat!reader in an exploration of a scene where reader is overwhelmed/stressed and needs Joel to help her find peace through submission.

⛓ kinktober day 30: free use by @softpascalito

summary: Joel comes home urgently needing some relief. Its a good thing youre there- and the first time Joel makes use of an ... interesting agreement.

jackson!Joel

observations by @ezrasbirdie

summary: You're not like the other girls, but it'd be easier if you were. Joel Miller doesn't see it that way.

One and Done by @moralesispunk

summary: Joel never leaves you wanting more, but sometimes you do like to tease him

old habits by @wheresarizona

summary: Back in Boston, Joel Miller was your favorite client who frequented your services, exchanging ration cards and other items deemed illegal for sex with you until he just disappeared one day. It’s years later, and now, by a stroke of dumb luck on your journey out west, you’ve found yourself in the town of Jackson and in close proximity to Joel once again, the two of you immediately falling back into old habits

⛓ cruel by @notjustjavierpena

summary: Joel and you never attend the rest of Jackson’s population when it’s movie night. Instead, you become one messy tangle of limbs and oh, how you love him being a meanie.

 

qz!Joel

Pistol by @cosmictheo

summary: during a stormy night at bill and frank's house, joel teaches you how to hold your gun, and this opens up the perfect opportunity for the two of you to finally release all the feelings of longing and lust you've been repressed for each other over the past few weeks.

What Happens Here, Stays Here by @fettuccin-e

summary: anonymous sex with qz!Joel

signs I don't read by @pascalisbaby

summary: joel likes things done his way, especially when he’s fucking you

⛓ kinktober day 28: cuckolding by @absurdthirst

summary: your boyfriend owes Joel and can't pay up, so Joel takes you as payment instead.

🏴 The Stranger by @nala2811

summary: You and a certain stranger are hurled away to somewhere else within the QZ, where you both are required to perform a very particular task…

angst

september by @cavillscurls

summary: Joel hates his birthday. You discover why.

born lucky, under a bad star by @softlyspector

summary: Joel has always been lucky, in the worst of ways.

nobody's son, nobody's daughter by @fragilefable

summary: When you and Joel get separated the night of the outbreak, you spend the next decade searching for him. Just when you've given up— a miracle occurs.

[gege-wondering-around]

Thought of a question!

What kind of story is your favourite love story?

Hi wonderful @dontcallpanic, so glad to see you around here💕🫂! (Tyler is me looking at your beautiful ask🩵)

I had to think a bit about this one cause 1 I wasn't sure if you meant a romance book or a trope 2 I had to think about what kind of love story I love with all my heart.

So, since I'm still not entirely sure if it’s about a book or a trope, I'll drop both!

The book

This, well, I actually don't know cause they always miss something, but I can still drops one or two titles I really enjoyed.

"Come Anima, Mai" by Rossana Soldano (It's an italian book so I don’t think there’s a english translation, but you basically got this two guys that basically go from enemies to lovers then war arrives and they are separated and they go through hell to get back together)

"the Green Creek saga" by TJ Klune (4 books + 3/4 novellas) (werewolves, soulmates, some kind of politics you can actually understand without understanding real politics, wonderful and heartbreaking bonds, amazing shows of loyalty, bravery and love, what can I say? if you want, go and read it, but check the tags/warning first)

but in general, to me, any book that touches topics like death, trauma (all of them), or anything that can touch your soul, to me that book can be considered about love. Let me give you an example (which I put in a fic I'm writing)

White Fang. (I haven't read this yet, but I read many quotes and stuff about it, so this is simply my personal opinion)

here's the summary from google: "It is about a wolf cub named White Fang and the obstacles he faces from being owned by vicious, abusive people like Beauty Smith, and then rescued and shown kindness by his new owner Weedon Scott, who White Fang comes to love."

Here's two quotes from the book, and based on them I tell you the story is about love. When you find the person that gets you and you can rely on them. When from abuse you find love in someone new and it softens you somehow. When you can be You only with them and they are the only one you consider worthy of seeing you without any filters.

The trope

Surely, it's a bit of a mix of things that I love reading all together (I can't have one without the other😅)

the soulmates trope (or the invisible string theory, or the red thread of destiny or however you know it, to me they are all similiar and beautiful, also each goes with a different culture or a more spefic genre/fandom - I'm counting both books and fanfics)

and a mixture of other stuff I don’t know how they are called in fanfics/books terms of plots and tropes

'to be loved is to be changed' trope (which again, could have many names but I call it like this, yet i can say, more generically speaking, that one trope where only A can help B and viceversa)

following names taken from trends, 'they abandoned you and I collected you like treasure'

So, yeah, basically this is my favorite mix for a good love story. I don't have favorite settings or ages (as in centuries).

But let me tell ya darling, something that I love with my whole heart and that I can actually explain (and that is my absolute top of the top favorite story for a love story) is this:

(It's gonna bo oddly specific probably)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

So, you have these two guys (I usually read gay guys (ships, cause I haven't read a book in a bit too long but let's count it still)) and they have this bond they aren't really aware of, so when one of them is hurt (physically or mentally) the other kinda shows up 'out of nowhere' and sticks around to help them in the most random, 'idk what the fuck im doing' kind of way. Like, maybe A will start read a book or say dumb stuff or fun facts to distract B and viceversa, but the person who's doing the comforting part doesn't really know WHY they feel like they CAN do something that no one else can, like they feel like they are different then others when it comes to the person who's hurt rn.

And as the story goes on and these two idiots takes care of each other in silly ways, they go deeper and deeper into one another, like they start to know their pasts and traumas or childhood dreams and stuff (cause of course, they never really talked before but now that they found comfort and safety in one another, they kinda stick around together just for the pleasure of it). Then something big happens, can be anything, but it happens to one of them (cause the story is about them of course) and the person who's not injured or generally safe freaks the fuck out cause the other person is like on the edge of dying or it's been kidnapped or whatever. So you get this whole man hunt/running against time to save that person and only their 'other half' can manage, somehow (maybe for sheer luck, like they remembered something about the other only he knew), to get to them and bring thme back home.

And so you have the whole 'taking care of badly injured idiot' arc where it's all silly jokes, forced rest and dark times (cause, let's say B, lives something traumatic and has PTSD or nightmares or anything of the kind), all the while, B doesn't want to see anyone in particular apart from A, whom they love but don't know how to tell them cause B is afraid A doesn't love him back (big fat lie). So, in this arc, you get the 'to be loved is to be changed' cause A managed to get B to enjoy people's company or whatever despite what happened.

But I'm not done.

After a while after whatever happened, A and B gets super close but they don't even notice it, it's like dictated by something or someone else, but their emotions also starts to show and so they end up confessing their love in an unexpected way. Maybe, they are eating pasta and out of no where A goes 'yeah you know I love you' or smt similiar, or they go on a trip and somehow one of them planned it all to be a love confession but gets kind of screwed but still manages to make the most out of it (of course after he kinda shows the other what the trip was really about and the other helps them realize it's not about the trip but the company.) and this is your kinda soulmates trope (cant go oddly specific or it wouldn't fit well)

Yet, this is the part where I fucking melt like an ice cream.

Their love isn't physical, I mean, it can be but it's not the top thing in their relationship. There's loyalty, being proud of (pass me the term) 'belonging' to the other, complicity, understanding each other without any words spoken. there's PLATONIC love between them and maybe it leads them to the physical part, but that's not how they define their love. because after all, they've been alone for ages and no one really payed them any mind, leaving them be on their own with worring too much, but then they started showing up in each other’s lives and they saw one another as something spectacular and extraordinary which deserves to be loved and treasured, and they know they'll be the only person to ever do justice to the task.

Like, they go through all sorts of hell together when no one else is there for either of them, so they found out about their damn feelings when death (or smt) is around the corner and finally understand they are meant to be!

+ when platonic love is shown (and how they realize they dont have to be alone anymore cause somebody founds them worthy of love), leaving physical intimacy on the 'second level' of their relationship.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

damn, that was long, hope it was good enough cause i might've missed something but I think it's gonna be good somehow anyway.

So, I hope I made justice to the ask and you liked my long ass post.

(I'm gonna drop the ask you made me plus another of my own in your ask box as soon as I find a good question for you, beautiful @dontcallpanic)

@dontcallpanic, wish you an amazing day tomorrow and wonderful night (it's around 10 pm here), you're a spectacular and shiny soul I love seeing pop up in my notifications. I always wish you the best of the best, may you always find a place where you feel lived and someone who loves you🫂💕

(if there are any typos or errors, I apologize, I haven't re-read this and thanks for coming this long)

[kylejsugarman]

I hope your moving process is going well! 💕

When you get a chance, what does Sheila think about Jesse when she first meets him and how does their relationship develop from boss to family member? Oh and if you have any thoughts about Clover I’d love to hear them too!!!

thank u my sweet leighanne, it did go well!!!! all thanks to ur good wishes :') and i will always have the chance to talk about my au, we all know this.....at first, sheila is mostly just really curious about jesse!! she knows everything about Everyone in town, so having a new person to study is super exciting. he listens when she jabbers on and seems really invested in learning carpentry and improving his skills, which endears her to him massively. sheila is friendly but she acknowledges that she's nosy and Loud and a big brash butch lesbian, so it's nice to have someone else at the store now who listens to her stories and cares about what they're doing. jesse is a little intimidated by her at first and doesn't say much around her initially because he's afraid he'll let something slip that she'll gossip about to others, but sheila never tries to be hurtful or mean in her gossip and has a wonderful, warm sense of humor that he really takes to. she's also super encouraging and helps him hone his latent woodworking skills with the kind of patience that he needs. since they spend so much time together, just the two of them in the store, they end up sharing a lot. sheila loves to get herself involved in jesse's life and is the one who pushed him to go on his first "date" with demi, who insisted that he come over to try her wife's chowder, who showed him how to de-ice a windshield and braid little girl hair and set up direct deposit. sheila isn't just jesse's first point of contact in haines, she's this older adult figure that he desperately needs who is more than happy to guide him towards a stable life. as long as he lets her buy baby christmas presents and tolerates her opinions on what kind of haircut he should get

as for clover!! she is a big mutt from the kennel (demi starts to shyly tell the stranger adopting her that she was a puppy mill rescue but when she sees his scarred face, she holds back on details and just says that clover had a tough start) who is very clumsy and not particularly brave (one clap of thunder and she's basically climbing up into jesse's arms), but she's super loyal and sweet and happy to never leave jesse's side. having her to play with and walk really helps him get out of the house during his early time in alaska, and its much easier to smile and feel human when theres a big dog tromping towards u with a stick in their mouth. he hasn't had a dog since he was a young kid and forgot how wonderful it is to just. have another living creature around. for a lot of his early time, he's not quite ready to talk to other people or be around them for extended periods of time even though he feels really lonely, so clover is the perfect companion. he doesn't have to lie to her or pretend or hide or fit into a new identity that still itches: he can just enjoy being not alone. and it really helps having her sleep in bed with him. nothing brings u back to the present after an especially vicious nightmare faster than a loving, slobbery dog kiss

[tellmelittlethingsaboutyourday]

My best lil girl just got a new tug toy and it's great because its sturdy enough not to immediately fall apart under her chews and soft enough not to hurt my hands. We are having a great time and her play growls are So Vicious! It's hilarious because she's a loveable goofball but the rope distorts her growl into something fierce. And she growls more if you mess with her. I take my toes and step on her toes or use a free hand to boop her snoot just to make her react. And then she wins and has to prance around to demonstrate her superiority. Then come over to put her head in my lap so she knows I know she was just playing. It's also great because the way she carries it it covers her eyes so every once in a while theres a soft bonk as she walks into the coffee table.

I want to play w/ her! 💕

[rathma]

⌛, 💕, 💣, 🤲, 🏡 :3

from this ask game !

this is mostly gonna be about kaine but starting with a gale thing because i have a TANGENT to go on

⌛a sleep headcanon: YOU KNOW WHAT I'M GLAD YOU BROUGHT IT UP BECAUSE IVE BEEN DYING TO TALK ABOUT IT FOR A FUCKING HOT MINUTE. in fact i was talking about it the other night in chat but. you made a post about the powers that mystra's chosen had, and a few stood out to me, namely that mystra's chosen don't age, and they have no need for sleep. i won't get into my gale age conspiracy at the moment BUT i will be emo about the sleep thing. gale spent a century however long not needing to sleep - and who knows how long he would spend in the outer planes at a time? he's barely a year out of his self-imposed exile following the loss of his power - i know he cannot sleep. as a chronic insomnia haver i can only imagine what it's like to have to readjust to a fully human body again. enter: a dragon whose love language is physical touch. can't sleep? too bad. get in the bed, boy, you have a lover who needs to lay directly on top of you, and by the gods they are going to bring you a comfort you have never known before. even on his worst nights he'd rather be there, with them.

💕a love headcanon: kaine is young, and sheltered, but not inexperienced. they fall in love easily, but they're fickle - or they used to be. something shifted with gale. if they think about it too hard their chest starts to hurt. really, it's that he sees them. with all the others, they were never able to be themself, always hiding something, and they don't have to do that with him. it's freedom - that freedom they've always craved and never had.

💣a stress headcanon: kaine rarely allows themself to feel their stress. it builds, and they ignore it, until they can't anymore - they snap, and they lash out with cruel words and vicious laughter, or their magic becomes so volatile their shackles struggle to contain them. it takes someone with a lot of patience, arcane acuity, and spacial awareness to help them through it. luckily, they have that :)

🤲a religious headcanon: i have pages upon pages of lore on kaine's homeland and the demiplane it used to inhabit and its history but to make a long fuckin story short: kaine's bloodline claims their divine right to rule based on lineage connected to the most powerful deity of their pantheon. in this version of events, when said demiplane was dismantled and valais was returned to faerun, it was also revealed that those deities were, in fact, dragons, and while kaine's bloodline exists, and their power is very real, it wasn't gods at all, just an ancient wizard's failed attempt to create a new kind of god. as such, valesian custom doesn't recognize the gods of faerun, but that's simply borne of a lack of exposure. that said, kaine struggles with the idea that their power isn't divine. dragons in faerun seem so... small, in comparison. the power they have roiling under their skin is much more than that. i think kaine and gale talk about divinity at length, both of them with their differing views on it, but both having fairly recently gone through shit that's altered what they previously thought to be true.

🏡a home headcanon can i talk about the kainegale weddings im dying to talk about the kainegale weddings ok so basically. after all is said and done and kaine is stabilized and gale is certain they're not going to drop dead again, they go back to waterdeep. kaine is probably the one to bring it up - gale is uncertain about too much change at once, but they want to see his home, see his tower in person. they spend some time there, working out everything they havent processed yet, and after a year or two, they decide to get married. kaine is so excited over the idea of it that they agree without even considering the consequences of getting married outside of their country - where they need to ascend the throne one day - but it's a wonderful little affair, and they don't regret it at all. eventually, of course, kaine does tell gale that they need to go home at some point, and gale's nothing if not supportive, so they go together. kaine tells him under no uncertain terms that he is not to mention the fact that they're already married, and they will be having another ceremony, several in fact, because they still need to be named and coronated before they can be married in the eyes of their ancestors. in the end, that's where they stay, ruling together. it's no crown of karsus, but it's a crown all the same.

[mychemicalrachel]

i mean… since i’ve already asked once, maybe the kink prompt will also do? 👉🏻👈🏻 14 for andrew and k? pretty please?

[PWP PROMPTS]

Ahhhhhh hell yes! This was such a fun relationship to explore!! Thank you so much for this prompt!!! 💕💕

14. Dirty Talk

Andrew Minyard and Joseph Kavinsky were different breeds of similarly rabid dogs. Violent and unrestrained, vicious and unrepentant. Warning signs visible from miles away.

The thing Andrew liked most about Kavinsky was his mouth. His bark often preceded his bite– and God, what a bite it was.

Once he had sunk his teeth into Andrew, there was no going back. Honestly, Andrew wouldn't have it any other way.

Andrew had a hard time with people, talking to them and understanding them and respecting them. With Kavinsky, there was no such issue. If he didn't like something, he had no problem letting Andrew, or anyone else, know it. And when he liked something… that was when his teeth really came out.

"I said harder, fuckwad," Kavinsky snapped, his position on his hands and knees in front of Andrew not one of authority by any means, though that didn't stop him from making his demands. "Are you even making an effort? Come on, Minyard. Harder."

Grabbing a handful of Kavinsky’s hair, yanking his head back, Andrew fucked him harder.

Kavinsky cackled, then moaned, sated for only the briefest of moments. It never lasted long. He was always hungry for more, more–

"More," Kavinsky said. He wouldn’t beg and he wouldn't plead, but unlike most of Andrew’s previous partners, he didn't take what he wanted without asking either.

"Tell me," Andrew growled. With the strands of Kavinsky’s dirty hair threaded through his fingers, he used the grip to pull Kavinsky up, closer, holding him to his chest as he pushed into him from behind. Another sharp laugh caught in Kavinsky’s throat when Andrew bit down on his earlobe, teeth scraping across his neck, not only hard enough to feel, but to sting. "Tell me what you want."

He knew that Kavinsky wanted everything, but he would accept whatever it was Andrew would let him have.

Kavinsky said, "Fucking hell," and then nothing else for a long time. His head fell back onto Andrew's shoulder and Andrew could feel Kavinsky’s lungs expanding in his own chest where they were pressed together. The closest two people could ever be to one. "God, you feel so good. I want you to fuck me so hard I feel it for days."

Andrew closed his eyes and thrust deeper, harder. He wasn't as talkative as Kavinsky but he was far more eloquent and he knew exactly what Kavinsky was trying to say– he wanted Kavinsky to feel this long after they'd both come and gone. He wanted Kavinsky to think of him when it hurt just to sit down, and he wanted Kavinsky to become breathless at the reminder of how full Andrew had made him feel.

"Shit, Andrew," Kavinsky moaned, and Andrew thought that was the full sentence until Kavinsky added, "You're so fucking big. So good. So… fuck."

"Tell me," Andrew repeated and if his pace before had been punishing, it was downright torturous when he slowed. He knew the angle to hit Kavinsky’s prostate just right, the way to wrap his hand around Kavinsky’s leaking cock just how he liked, to put Kavinsky on the very edge of an orgasm without tipping over.

Kavinsky’s eyelids fluttered as he tried his damnedest to stay present, coherent, and he swallowed hard, loose and pliant in Andrew's capable arms. "Andrew," he breathed, maybe the closest to a plea that Joseph Kavinsky would ever come. "Want you to come first. Jesus fuck," he shivered against Andrew, "yes, right there. Need you to fill me up. And then I wanna come with you still inside me, with your fingers in my mouth."

Andrew's hips stuttered. He thought, probably, he could come just from the sound of Kavinsky’s voice painting vivid, lewd fantasies. He wanted to pick Kavinsky apart, play out his wildest dreams, learn him inside and out– if only he could trust Kavinsky the same way Kavinsky trusted him. It was a work in progress.

Someday…

"You wanna hurry it up, Minyard? I'm getting bored." Though Kavinsky’s breathlessness betrayed how much he was enjoying himself, his fingers grasping at the sheets because he knew not to touch Andrew without his permission. 

Andrew thought, probably, he would let him touch, if Kavinsky asked.

"Please," Kavinsky gasped. "Fuck, do not make me beg. Andrew–"

As tempting as it was, to make Kavinsky beg, to see if he would, Andrew didn't have the patience or the stamina tonight, as Kavinsky sighed, "Come for me."

Helplessly, hopelessly, Andrew did.

[writemywaytoyourheart]

I need to write this out because I am a MESS right now :’-)

Chip, you’ve got to be one of the MOST underrated authors here because I binged “Aim for the Heart” in three days and I have never cried so much over a literal fanfic before 😭😭 it’s just so beautifully crafted and no words can describe the story between MC and Jungkook being two sides of the same coin trying to heal their broken selves from their past and falling in love with each other. THE SYMBOLISM TOO I CANNOT— the flowers, the shoe laces, colour symbolism, drawings— it just ALL came back and nothing was ever put in the story as filler IM SOBBING 💕

The way they both came into each others lives and so deeply and fundamentally changed each other- MC showing Jungkook that it’s okay to love and be weak and that it’s not something to be ashamed of; she gave him a sense of purpose other than solely killing to support his mother. She let him see the good the world is capable of 🥲🥲

On the other side, Jungkook helped her see how beautiful she was this whole time, (the metaphor with the Japanese bowls!!!) and that she’s more than her past (which could also be said for him too I’m still crying 😭) + there is beauty in things that are broken and the way he just loves her is so AUGHHHH 🧎🏻‍♀️🧎🏻‍♀️🧎🏻‍♀️ if that’s isn’t true love then idk what is because I don’t ever want anything other than that

There are also so many parallels between Jungkook and Taehyung and Mina and MC. The situation being that one of them pressured the other to do something they didn’t want to do. I’m MC’s case, she wanted to leave the dirty business behind but ended up hurt and dragged into it against her will. In Jungkook’s situation, it’s flipped, where Taehyung wanted to protect him and instead, became a vicious killer, allowing himself into that role by his decision alone.

As for Mina, lemme just say this 💀

There’s honestly so much more I can say about just how amazing this story is 😭 at first I found it hard to get behind MC’s overall demeanour because she made me cringe a big ngl, but I ended up really loving her and how she is meant to represent a sense of childhood innocence because she allows herself to be comfortable as she is, this expressed through her fashion, room decor, eating habits + love for sweets, and Barbie movies— something which Jungkook struggles with within himself and his mental and physical scars (like when he hates the feeling of water running down his back due to his childhood abuse).

Btw I always wondered at the end whether MC could have just looked back in her photo gallery to see the selfie she took with Jungkook when she had lost her memories tho? Lol 😩

Thank you for bringing this into the world 🥲😌😭 I need to find a happy fic to read now because I’m still SHAKEN.

It took me longer than I wanted it to to answer this ask 😔

Tbh, I feel so comfortable writing for characters and getting certain messages across to readers through their words, but when it comes to me writing stuff that comes directly from me, I always feel lacking.

I never feel satisfied with how I've answered an ask whether it be a response to a small heartfelt greeting from a nonnie or long meaningful paragraphs.

I'm always afraid that someone is going to feel like I didn't answer them with as much love and gratefulness as I'm trying so hard to fill it with, that I'm not genuine. Even when I had so few followers and a single ask every once in a blue moon, I was so so so so excited and grateful every time and I'd read it over and over again before getting the courage to answer it. It still happens to this day lol.

I hope you know how much this ask means to me. Again, it took me far longer than I thought to answer it, but I just couldn't come up with the words to show how much it truly means to me. I still can't.

AFTH has such a special place in my heart, and when people love it, it feels like my heart explodes into a million pieces in the best way possible.

There have been so many many nights and days where I had panic attacks because I realized how I could've made it better with a simple word change, how people will think I dragged it on just to mess with people, how people would think it's cringe or a waste of their time to read. How someone might like it in the beginning and then decide they couldn't care less about the characters and leave. That hurts the most in a way.

I love my characters so so much, it's so comforting to see you love them all even if it took time to warm up to some 💝 but you're right Mina can go take a long walk.

I still feel like it's lacking in so many ways I wish I could go back in time and fix.

But it's asks like this that calm my heart more than anything else can. Even with my thousands of mistakes and regrets, the fact that you could love it so much... It hurts in a good way.

As much as I hate to admit it, I know that it's very connected with how I feel about myself. The fear of failure is so strong whenever I post.

I didn't know for so long why I was so afraid, but i finally admitted it to myself. I trust y'all enough to put a part of my diary here T-T

There are so many authors, hundreds of millions of trillions of books in this world. Why would someone pick up mine? How would it even get seen even if it turned out perfect?

I feel like being an author is like being an artist. Either you make it, or you don't. And a lot of it has nothing to do with skill and everything to do with luck. And yet I doubt I have either of those.

I'm scared to put myself out there, because I'm scared of the confirmation that no one wants me.

This ask though. It helped to push those thoughts back onto the back burner. You understood so much of what I was trying so hard to convey in that story. And it touched you. And that's what I wanted so desperately.

Thank you so much for loving aim for the heart, for even giving it a chance at first. I know it's long. Btw you binged over 1200 pages in three days. That's a big ass book lol so you are impressive I must say 😭 yall are truly a different breed. I finally found my people 😂 the fact that you GOT so many of my little details in there is so AGHHH

Anyway, enough of my blubbering. Again I'm not even satisfied with this. But oh well. As long as you know how much this meant to me and how many times I read this over and over again bc it was such a beautiful and comforting ask.

I hope I can continue to give you works that make you feel like this 💕💕💕

ILY 💖

-chip

p.s. you are right, I'll have to go back and see but I don't think I put in there why she didn't see the pictures, I had intended to but forgot lol, nice catch 😉 let's just say she has a different phone 🤪

[phantasmiafxndom]

I loved your dream ask with the Twst boys!! If requests are still open could you do one for Jamil, Jade, Azul and Deuce, please? If its too many characters, you can pick! Thankyou very much and keep up with the good work! 💕

Jamil

• Unfortunately for him, the dream doesn't finish things off. Jamil slips back to awareness so hard it almost hurts, grinding against the mattress until his head clears. As soon as he's aware of what he's doing, the shame hits him like a truck, and it only gets worse when the memory of you touching him, holding him down so he can't hide, making him squirm and beg for you— By the time his mind wanders that far, he couldn't be more horrified with himself.

• On principal, Jamil forces himself to ignore his problem. There's no way he's going to let himself get off to the thought of you... no matter how tempting that sounds. However, that means he's more on edge than ever that day. Being forced to interact with you is torture. No matter how hard he tries to play it cool, his mind is lingering on every detail of the dream. He's unconsciously, nervously retreating into his hoodie as you talk to him, and internally begging himself not to do anything he'll regret.

Jade

• While the details of the dream are hazy at best, Jade wakes up with sticky pants and a vicious mood. His whole body feels hot and uncomfortably tense, and he's not entirely sure what to do about it in this form. Coupled with the vague, lingering sense of being your prey, it's a combination that leaves him struggling to control himself... especially when the more instinct-driven parts of his brain are begging him to make the dream a reality.

• Anyone who gets too close to Jade for the rest of the day is going to be left uncomfortable at best. He's oozing even more of a threatening aura than usual, and seems worryingly tense. However, when he's stuck interacting with you, that intimidating atmosphere switches to something close to spotted prey... but a little too excited about it. Jade is good at keeping himself composed, but you're still going to get the feeling that he wants something he's not telling you. Do you even want to know?

Azul

• His dream involves his merman form, which really doesn't help matters once he's awake and remembering it. The memory of you cooing over how sweet and soft and lovely he was coupled with the way he can all but feel your warm touch on far-too-sensitive places... yeah, Azul isn't leaving his self-made blanket cocoon for a while out of sheer embarrassment. He'd never let himself think about it before, but now, the idea is firmly lodged in his head.

• When he does finally have to be up and about, Azul is praying he'll avoid you. He's sure he'll pull himself together soon enough, but until then, the thought of a face-to-face encounter makes him want to cry. And of course, that's exactly what he gets. Even trying his absolute hardest to keep his composure, Azul is a mess. He's twitchy, stuttering, and uncharacteristically clumsy— as in, he's going to do something stupid and die inside even more. All while struggling not to think about what was in the dream.

Deuce

• It doesn't dawn on him for a while. Deuce is up and moving before he remembers his dream at all, but when it does hit that this wasn't a normal vague, meaningless wet dream, he comes very close to choking on his toothpaste from shock. There are suddenly far too many uncomfortable, arousing details in his head. It wasn't on purpose, but even having his sleep-brain make you call him a good boy... it feels like he's done something wrong.

• As you'd expect, Deuce does a horrible job of keeping himself together. He's red-faced and tense all day, and when you greet him a little too suddenly, he apologizes on reflex. And then has to make an excuse about why he did it. Even though he's utterly ashamed of himself, though, seeing you is doing things that aren't making this any easier. After he spaces out in the conversation with his mind wandering where it really shouldn't, he's desperately looking for a way out before he embarrasses himself.