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#Grammarly needs to stop changing my words
vlovebug · 3 months
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When Val goes to the cauldronello household just to drop something off that might take 5 minutes tops, they'll stare at him until he agrees to come in, if he says he's not hungry they will still give him something to eat/drink. Normally it's fruit or blood they keep for him, but sometimes they make him foods with his favorite blood type in it. This makes him cry every time because they're the first people to ever do that for him ( not counting other vampires)
When they go to stores they get something they like and things Val likes so he feels welcome, Circe goes to blood banks that give blood out for vampires and gets vals perfected type, casta makes him little trinkets he can wear and or have anywhere in his room, and spelldon makes his food because he knows his favorites by heart ( this includes both Irish and Greek dishes).
They all like hanging out with him to, in different ways ofc. Circes teaches him things he didn't know and gives him motherly affection and genuine love, casta brings him shopping and gives him gifts ( either homemade or store bought) from time to time. spelldon, being his boyfriend and all, gives him the most affection. He gives him homemade gifts and gives him foods he baked or cooked. He spends half of his time with him ( still gives him enough space for himself), and lets him wear his jewelry and gems that have spells on them ( protection spells, luck spells)
But don't think this is one-sided, no no no. He gives them home-cooked meals, gives them gifts, and gives them affection.
He would kill for the cauldrenollos. ( they would kill for him)
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acesofspade · 1 year
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me @ grammarly whenever it tries to tell me to use a synonym for a perfectly normal and acceptable word, when the suggested word completely ruins the sentence
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mysingularitybts · 1 year
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Put Your Records On
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Pairing: Cat Hybrid!Yoongi x Human! F. Reader (you)
Genre: smut, fluff, strangers 2 lovers, hybrid!au, 18+
Appearances: Bunny!Jungkook, Fox!Jin, Human!Hoseok, Panther! Taehyung, Human! Jimin, Wolf! Namjoon
Word Count: ~30k
Warnings/tags: hybryd au! (there will be mentions of scenting, heats, and that sort of thing) let's start light with cursing, oral (f, m receiving), unprotected sex, creampies, light biting, breeding, fingering, m. masturbation, light voyeurism, oral (m2m), cum play, there's probably some other stuff i missed or simply refuse typing out here lol
a/n: this was supposed to be a small thing and then it evolved into what it is today (half plot half porn). i knew i was obsessed with kitty yoongi i just never realized i was this obsessed. this oneshot made me write things i never thought id write, it pushed me to my limits but I'm pretty proud of it. i hope you guys like it... there is so much smut also grammarly is a pain in my ass
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Like every morning for the past seven years, Yoongi walks to work with hands in his pockets and earbuds in his ears. The music blasting out of them does nothing to dampen the city noise as the extra pair of ears at the top of his head catches them. One of the downsides of being a hybrid, a cat one, to be precise.
Like every morning, he stops in front of a tall, glass-lined building that glimmers under the rising sun, and as always, he curses it out in his head (or under his breath) for ruining his dream. The same one that began when he first learned the purpose of the building. To become a music producer. He scowls at it for a whole minute before continuing to his destination. A minute a day is all the time he allows himself to rain on his parade.
He proceeds to walk to the small music shop tucked between a coffee shop and a comic book store. He unlocks the door fitfully, having to jiggle the keys expertly. There’s no chance of anyone stealing from the store when he can barely open the door himself. Turning on the stereo with the music of a new upcoming artist, he organizes anything he might’ve left out of place the night before and cleans the counters.
It’s become a routine for Yoongi to wake up, scowl at the glass building, go to work, endure people’s discrimination towards hybrids, close the store, go home, and go to sleep. He’s gotten so used to the repetition that when he has free time on Sundays, he feels at a loss on what to do. He’s tried opening the store those days, but then Lee, the closest thing to a father figure he has, would just get mad at him for not resting.
It’s not unusual for him to get new customers. Still, they are always the same sort of people, music students or hipsters who want to try and be cool with their indie music. Today though, he feels something change when a blue-haired girl walks into the store for the first time. The bell jingles at the top of the door as you walk in, looking around the store before beelining to the aisle labeled ‘vinyl.’ Yoongi follows you with his eyes as his tail swishes behind him in curiosity.
You’d heard of this store from a co-worker and thought it would be the perfect place to find a gift for your brother, who’s recently started a vinyl collection. You rummage through the bins trying to find anything he might like but what you see is barely anything you’ve heard of before.
Yoongi stares at you without approaching you; he usually lets the customer decide if they need help. He’s lost count of how many times people have told him they don’t need the help of a hybrid. But as you move into the third bin of vinyl out of the few dozen in the store, he decides to make a move, or you’ll be here for hours.
“What are you looking for?” he asks straight to the point.
You look up, startled, not having heard him approach you. You can’t help but stare, not because he’s a hybrid but because he must be one of the hottest men you’ve ever seen in your life. Yoongi doesn’t take it that way, as he believes you’re judging him for what he is. Instantly his cat ears pin back, and his eyes narrow.
“Well?” He prompts rudely.
“Sorry, um…Yoongi.” You say, squinting to read his name tag, “I’m looking for a vinyl for my brother as a birthday gift.” You look at him nervously as you feel him judge your entire being, wishing you had worn more makeup today and not stained your sweater during lunch.
“Anything in specific you’re searching for? What is his music taste?” Yoongi asks, bored.
“He likes electro-pop.”
Yoongi nods and directs you further down the aisle, he organized the bins himself, and you were looking in all the wrong places. You should've noticed the signs hanging above the bins designating the music genre.
“You were searching in the jazz area. This is electro-pop,” Yoongi points out.
Blushing at your stupidity, you thank him and continue to search for a good artist your brother will like. Yoongi hums in acknowledgment and makes his way back to the cash register, waiting for you to finish and ringing out other customers.
As you shift through the albums, you look up occasionally to look at the hybrid called Yoongi. He sits on a wooden stool, staring out the window. The sun hits his pale face, making him look ethereal. If she was braver, she’d ask him out, but she knows there’s no way he’d like her back. He certainly didn’t show it when he helped her.
Finally, seeing more artists you recognize, you settle on two vinyls for your gift. You walk around the store seeing as it’s your first time in it, and you stop to look at accessories for production closer to the counter. Your eyes roam the equipment, and your hand urges you to touch it. You hold back because you don’t need anything right now. Wanting and needing are two different things you need to be conscious about.
Carefully placing the vinyls on the counter, you wait for Yoongi to ring the items up. He barely looks at you as he tells you the total. That’s okay, though, as it allows you to stare at him more discreetly; you are in awe of this man with his glossy dark hair and pink pout. How could you have formed a crush on a man who has only spoken five words to you?
Yoongi looks up at the lack of response, only to find you staring at him. He frowns deeply, disturbed by the situation. Her staring differs from the people who point at his ears or make off-hand comments, yet he can’t point out why.
“Hello?” He snaps to call her attention.
“Sorry,” you flinch, a blush covering your cheeks, contrasting the blue in your hair.
“Hope you’re brother likes them,” Yoongi tells her, putting both records in a bag.
“Thanks, me too,” you stutter out with a smile.
You promptly pay and leave the store. Outside you slap yourself on the forehead for being so awkward in the presence of Yoongi. Caught up reprimanding yourself, you fail to notice Yoongi staring at you from the window with a quirk on his lips.
Yoongi thinks you’re a little odd but pays you no mind. He believed you’d be more confident with hair like yours, in reality, you’re a little ditsy. It’s cute. You smelled good, too, not that he meant to smell you, but it’s hard not to with his heightened sense of smell. You smelled like chocolates and something florally yet not overwhelming.
To a hybrid, scents are everything they can tell a lot about a person, although sometimes they can be misled. Their smells can sense a person’s mood and overall persona. A handy thing to have when dealing with people who constantly discriminate against hybrids. Times might have changed, and hybrids might have their freedom now, but it can’t erase years of slavery and mistreatment.
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You keep returning to the store for the next month just to see Yoongi. You didn't know it back then, but now you know he's the only one that works in the store. At first, you would buy little things to have excuses to go there, then you started to leave empty-handed happy to have seen your 'kitty cat' as you've nicknamed him in your head. At around the third week of returning, he asked for your name. You stuttered it out as his response surprised you.
"That name doesn't suit you," he said, staring at you fixedly, "I'll just call you Blue."
"Very creative, Yoongi," you laugh, rolling your eyes.
And while Yoongi is unemotional, most of the time, you've been learning how to read him. A flick of his cat ears, the swishing of his tail, the way his nose scrunches up unbeknownst to him, or the way his mouth quirks up at the side. It all means different things, and you're starting to catch up, so when he sighs, shaking his head at your words, you know he's amused.
Yoongi has gotten used to seeing you every week. Unlike many of his customers, he'd greet you with a 'good morning' and send you off with a 'careful on the way home.' When you don't come to the store in more than a week, he finds himself worried, and as another week ends with no signs of you, he becomes slightly upset. Maybe he did something to upset you. He wants to know if you are okay or if there is anything wrong, but he comes up empty-handed.
He spends his Sunday sulking in his apartment. When he visits Lee, the old man notices instantly. He is delighted Yoongi is like this over a girl. He's been waiting too long for his boy to open up and get a girlfriend. Yoongi shuts it down almost instantly and clears up that you're only a customer. A friendly customer…
Monday morning bright and early, the bell of the shop jingles, and your scent wafts to Yoongi's nose, who is in the back getting more stock. He leaves the boxes behind as he rushes to the front. "Morning, Yoongi," you greet him with a bright smile.
"You didn't come last week, Blue," Yoongi frowns, his pout very apparent and his ears twitching in annoyance, "I was worried."
"I'm sorry," you quickly apologize," I was out of town."
You hate to admit that you are happy he noticed your absence. Yoongi considers you a friend! Now you have to fulfill the promise you made to yourself. This is the perfect opportunity to ask him out. If he was worried about you, it meant he cared! If only a little.
"How about I make it up to you?" You ask slowly, looking up at him with hope in your eyes. For an extra measure, you use the advice of a friend and put your hair behind your ear to seem cuter.
"And how are you going to do that?" He asks stoically, crossing his arms.
"Let me take you out to this coffee shop on Sunday. They have local artists playing music. And before you say no because of the shop, I know it's your day off," You rush through your words before he rejects the idea.
Yoongi is surprised at your idea of making it up to him, and it shows on his face. He's unsure of what to say but gauging the fact he spent his Sunday worrying over nothing, he accepts. "Alright, you're paying, though."
"Yeah, of course!" You say excitedly, which gets Yoongi smiling.
Despite seeing each other for many weeks, you hadn't had a reason to exchange numbers until now. He writes his phone number on your phone, and you can't resist having his contact as 'Kitty Cat,' not that he notices. If he did, you were sure he would be dramatic about it. Opening the camera app, you tell him to smile, it takes a few tries, but eventually, he settles and shoots the camera a half smile.
Yoongi does the same with you. After writing down your number, he assigns the contact as 'Blue' and snaps a picture of you. Only he didn't ask you to smile; he only called your name and snapped it. You beg him to change it, but he laughs and shoots down the idea. The picture he took got your essence to a tee. While you thought it was atrocious, he thought you looked cute with the wide-eyed stare and everlasting smile on your face. Your messy baby hairs and fluffy sweater only added to your charm.
That Sunday, Yoongi waits for you by the train station. He bites his nails as he waits, a nervous habit he can never get rid of. After accepting going out with you, he began wondering if this was a date. You never specified what it was for you. Yoongi has noticed your stares and how you hang on to every word he says. He also might've heard you speaking about him on the phone outside the store about how cute he was and how he made you giddy.
He's never really been in a relationship, and he's not sure he wants one, either. It's not like he's never been attracted to someone or had his flings, but they've all been with other hybrids, not a full human. He believes he knows you and you have the best intentions, but he's guarded. In the past, he's dealt with humans that are great at first until their true colors show, and they turn into the worst. It's hard getting over his trauma.
With lots of second thoughts, Yoongi is about to bolt from the train station. His fight or flight kicked in over the whole situation. It's one thing to see you around the store, but everything will change once he breaks the barrier and starts seeing you outside of it.
It's too late as you spot him in the train station and wave at him. "Hey, Yoongi!" You chirp, giving him a hug in greeting.
"Are you okay?" You place a hand on his shoulder. You noticed when you were nearing him that he was tense and fidgety. His tail is flat against his body, unlike how it usually swishes around him. Maybe he's not feeling up to the plans for today.
"All good, lead the way!" He responds with a nod and a small smile.
Yoongi is uncomfortable as you walk side by side on the sidewalk. The coffee shop is on the other side of town, in a nicer part of town, to be exact. As a teenager, he never had a great experience in these places where people with money think they can ask for anything with the right amount of money from a poor homeless hybrid. The sad part is sometimes he was so desperate that he agreed to their requests. He's not proud, but he did what he had to survive, and now he's in a better place.
The coffee place barely resembles a coffee place. Inside are tables gathered around a small stage; where the coffee usually sits, there is alcohol instead. When Yoongi points it out, you mention that it's a fully functioning coffee place during the day, and at night it shifts to a speakeasy.
"Where would you like to sit?" You ask Yoongi sweetly, thinking about the speakers that might bother him if you sit too close.
"Over here is okay," Yoongi says, leading you to a table near the back.
You notice the speakers don't point directly at the table. You're proud of yourself for thinking about his heightened sense of hearing. There is silence when you sit at the table. Internally, you're banging your head against the table for not thinking of something to talk about ahead of time. You want to talk to him and get to know him. How do you start, though?
Yoongi, on the other hand, is perfectly happy in the silence. He's never felt the need to make unnecessary conversations. After inspecting the room, he looks at you. You look beautiful today. Your blue hair is nicely curled, with little strands framing your face. You're wearing a fluffy blue sweater that fades into white and pink that begs him to touch it and a black mini skirt. Overall, very cute. He tried to say it while you walked to the coffee shop, but his mouth didn't cooperate, leading him down a different route.
There was a question burning his tongue. A matter of what situation they are in right now. It all started as a way to make it up to him, but he can't help but feel there's more to it. Although he thought of running before, he's concluded that a date would be okay. He's in control of his life now, and if he wants something to stop, he can say it.
"Blue?" He breaks the silence; you had been looking at the stage where the first performer was setting up.
"Yes?" You smile at him gently, waiting for his question. He loved that about you, just how patient and soft you are.
"What is this?" he asks, pointing his finger between the two of you. Upon noticing your confusion, he adds, "Is this a date or just an outing of two friends?"
Your cheeks instantly flare up. Maybe you hadn't made it as obvious as you thought, "I was hoping this would be a date."
Yoongi nods at your words and gives you a small smile, "I was too."
A waiter eventually approaches the table, taking both of your drink orders. A casual conversation then erupts between the two of you. You learn that he's been working at the store for nearly ten years. In exchange, you talk about one of your hobbies, photography.
"I never asked but did your brother like the vinyl?" Yoongi wonders, taking a sip of his whiskey.
"He loved them. Turns out I know his taste pretty well," you giggle, remembering your brother's excitement over the records. He had all but jumped into your arms in a big hug. "He mentioned visiting the store one of these days to get more."
"Does he live around the area?"
"Yes! He's currently in the university nearby," You chirp, mixing your cocktail. Your foundation may hide most of your imperfections, but it can't hide the flush of the alcohol.
"Good for him," Yoongi replies in surprise. That's one expensive and prestigious university. It makes him wonder about your family and what they do; he refrains. That's a subject for another day.
Yoongi had misjudged the coffee shop earlier. He thought the performers would be pretentious people who thought they knew about music. He'd also thought they would all be humans. But as the performers go on, he notices most of them are hybrids, and the people at the tables around them are too. "How did you find this place?"
"One of my friends works here, and the other will perform later."
Jung Hoseok is one of your great friends. You two used to work together until he decided he needed a break from everything some months ago. Next thing you know, he's managing a coffee shop and hosting music shows.
"Actually, I think I see him now," you say, waving your hand delicately toward Hoseok. Yoongi looks in his direction and sees a handsome man with a bright smile. It makes him insecure.
"I'm so glad you're here, sweetheart," Hoseok exclaims, approaching the table and leaning down to hug you, "Who is this?" He asks with a twinkle in his eyes. Hoseok had already heard everything about the cute, brooding hybrid cat.
"This is, Yoongi, my date," you say, "Yoongi, this is Hoseok, the friend I just told you about."
"Nice to meet you." Yoongi shakes the man's hand firmly.
"Don't forget about me," a deep voice says from behind Hoseok.
If Yoongi thought Hoseok was handsome, he is at a loss for words to describe the man or, rather, the hybrid that pops up beside him. The panther hybrid swoops in to hug you, too, whispering in your ear how gorgeous you look. It angers Yoongi that he couldn't say it beforehand because it means he is not the reason for the blooming blush that covered most of your face and neck.
"This is Taehyung," Hoseok introduces the panther hybrid, "Tae, this is her date, Yoongi."
Hoseok and Taehyung try very hard to hide their curiosity and glee. They've wanted to meet Yoongi for weeks, so they were ecstatic when you told them you'd bring him around. They were spying on you from the back, where Taehyung was using his heightened hearing to translate your conversation.
"You're going to perform tonight?" Yoongi asks the panther.
"It's my first time. I'm a little nervous," Taehyung responds, fidgeting with his hands.
"You'll be okay; you've practiced so much," You reassure him, reaching for his hand.
"Thanks, honey," Tae smiles at you.
"We'll leave you two to your date. I gotta go present the next performer," Hoseok says, pulling Tae away from the table, whispering in his ear to tone it down before he scares Yoongi away.
Yoongi finds them both pleasant, even if Taehyung is touchy with you. It's like there was something between the two of you. He doesn't want to jump to conclusions, though, so he ignores it for now.
As another performer finishes, you stand from the table, "I need to speak to Hoseok for a moment. Is that okay?"
"Of course."
His eyes follow you discreetly, watching as you speak to Hoseok. It appears as if the conversation is serious as Hoseok's smile drops. Yoongi focuses as much as he can on listening to the conversation, but it's hard when the new singer on the stage picks up the ante and strums the guitar louder. He can make out your lips as you say 'please,' but Hoseok only shakes his head no and says what Yoongi believes is an apology.
When you return, you smile at him as if nothing has happened. The rest of the show plays out. You pay as promised and head out into the cold night. Yoongi wants to bring up your conversation with Hoseok, but that's not his place. Besides, it seemed like it troubled you, and he didn't want to ruin the night.
"Did you like the show?"
"It was great; truth be told, I wasn't expecting to see as many hybrids," Yoongi confesses, stuffing his hands in his pocket.
"The owner is very pro-hybrid. It's one of the few places around here that are like that. I thought you'd like it, considering you always have the little stand on your counter." You refer to the local artists' tapes he keeps on the checkout counter; every week, he has a new one on display. You're unsure where he finds them, but you appreciate it as it helps you find new artists.
"I did, thank you," Yoongi smiles down at you and notices how you rub your hands together to warm them up. "Are you cold?" He doesn't wait for your answer as he takes your hands in his to warm them.
"How are you so warm?" You giggle.
"It's a hybrid thing," he mutters, a bit embarrassed. He's always been insecure about the things that make him a hybrid.
"I wish I was always that warm. My hands are always cold," you cutely pout.
Feeling brave, Yoongi says, "I can keep them warm."
You nod appreciatively, afraid of your voice betraying you. You walk the rest of the way hand in hand, and when you arrive at your departing point, you kiss his cheek. "For an amazing night."
"Will I see you at the store?" He asks shyly.
"Definitely."
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Time with Yoongi goes by so quickly. As promised, you return to the store, and Yoongi invites you out on another date in exchange. Your relationship progressed as the leaves began changing color. You didn't visit the store as much anymore as you visited each other's home. You were no longer the cute ditsy customer but the girlfriend.
You're so lucky to have Yoongi; he's much more than the grumpy cat you met. He's funny and extremely affectionate (in private, of course). It took you by surprise the first time he lay in your lap and asked you to touch his ears. You know it's a big no-no to touch a stranger's animal ears, but then again, you were no longer strangers. As you had your internal debate, Yoongi lay there with eyes closed, waiting for you. Silently praying you wouldn't be put off by it, his doubt was put to rest when you began softly stroking his pointy cat ears.
"Finally," he muttered, sinking further into your lap.
"Have you ever heard the saying good things come to those who wait?" You sass at him. Yoongi instantly relaxes, releasing a sigh of pleasure. You're weak for him, though, as your fingers brush through his hair and rub the base of his ears. He doesn't answer your question; instead, he falls asleep on you.
You're not sure if it's a Yoongi or a cat thing, but he loves his naps. Nine times out of ten, whether you're at his apartment or yours, Yoongi will nap for a few minutes, more if you're rubbing his ears. A trait you know comes from his cat side is looking for a spot in the house where the sun hits just right. You first noticed it at the store, and you thought it was because that's where the cash register is. Then you learned he moved the register closer to the big window to sunbathe. In fact, his apartment is set up in a way where his couch is mainly illuminated by the sun.
Something that is definitely a hybrid thing is scenting. You often caught Yoongi touching you or rubbing his head against your neck, a clear sign of scenting. Another way he does it is by giving you his hoodies or t-shirts. He gets all smug whenever you leave his apartment with his clothes, and whenever you return with his hoodies, and his scent is all faded, he switches them out. He wants to make it known to other hybrids that you are his.
For playing the stoic, serious guy, Yoongi loves kisses. Tiny kisses, pecks on the lips, kisses on the cheek, forehead kisses, full-blown makeout sessions, any type of thing involving kisses, he is there. You're favorite thing, though, is making him purr while you kiss.
In the past, you learned that some cat hybrids can purr and others don't, genetic differences between them or whatever. One day you were straddling his lap in a heated makeout session (one he started) and discovered he's one of the ones that purr.
Startled, you pull back with swollen lips, "What was that?"
"Nothing," Yoongi says, trying to pull you back by the back of your neck into another kiss.
"Was that a purr, Yoongi?" You insist with a teasing smile on your lips.
Yoongi, embarrassed, denies it. Furrowing his eyebrows with a pout, he mumbles, "Don't be ridiculous."
You smile at him and kiss him hard, grinding against him, "Do it again."
"I don't know what you're talking about," Yoongi moans, guiding your hips over his lap.
"Do. It. Again," you say in between kisses, "It felt amazing."
"It did?" Yoongi asks with a vulnerable look. He's always been somewhat embarrassed by his cat tendencies because he has had to hide them for many years. In his head, the more human he is, the better. It gives people less ammo when they decide to be rude.
"Mhm," you nod, swiping his lipstick-stained lips with your thumb. "Honestly, it's a turn-on," you whisper in his ear.
"You'll have to figure it out then 'cause I'm not telling you," Yoongi drawls, squeezing your hips.
"Let's get to it, then," You say seductively, kissing him again.
It takes you no more than ten minutes to figure out it's all in the hair. Whenever you pull the hair on the back of his neck, Yoongi purrs like there's no tomorrow. Minutes later, you make another discovery. The purrs are especially good when he's going down on you.
"Fuck, Yoongi," you moan, gripping his hair in your fist. It's a double-edged sword you have; you pull his hair due to the overwhelming pleasure, but it makes him purr even more.
There's no way for you to close your legs as Yoongi is settled right between them. He holds tightly to your thighs with one hand as he flicks your clit with his tongue and works two fingers into you. Neither of you is sure how you got into this position, but there are no complaints.
"I'm not sure if you want me to stop or not," Yoongi teases you with a smirk, leaving kisses over one of your thighs, although his fingers continue their assault. The sound of your wetness, along with your moans, resonates through the room.
"Don't even think about it, kitty cat," you respond, propping up on your elbows. Your head tilts back with a loud moan when Yoongi rubs against that spot.
Yoongi glares at the nickname and bites just where he kissed you. He detests the nickname, so he gets testy whenever you call him that. You whine at the momentary pain, but it turns you on even more.
"Forgot you were a pain slut," Yoongi says with all the intent in the world. He hates being called 'kitty cat,' and you hate the term 'pain slut.' Now you're even.
You glare, pushing him away and shuddering as his fingers leave you empty. Your skirt falls back into place as you sit back on the couch with a pout that's supposed to make you look angry. Yoongi holds back a laugh, knowing you love being dramatic. He moves into a sitting position and grabs your hand, pulling you into his lap, where you can perfectly feel his hard-on over his sweats. His sticky fingers are on your side, playfully squeezing you.
"Don't be so pissy. You know I'm joking," Yoongi chuckles, kissing your shoulder. His hands trail over your body, squeezing your clothed chest before delving between your thighs, but you remain emotionless.
"What's wrong? Cat got your tongue?" Yoongi jokes, kissing the point in your neck that makes you ticklish.
"That's not funny," you scoff, trying to hide the smile dying to come out.
"You're right, it's not," Yoongi agrees, "I'm sorry, Blue." He props his head on your shoulder with a pout, despite your messy blue hair tickling his face.
"I'm sorry too," you say rather unwillingly, turning to him.
"That's my girl," Yoongi smiles, gripping your chin to kiss you.
You squeal when he stands up, taking you to the bedroom to finish what he started.
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One fall afternoon, you bring Yoongi lunch to the store. He received a big batch of inventory and missed his lunch hour. Your hours at work are flexible, so you stop by one of the restaurants near the store and pick up his favorite.
"Yoongs, I'm here," you call out, not seeing him by the register.
"Back here, Blue!" You only see his hand waving from behind a pile of boxes. You leave the food at the counter and go around the boxes to see him sitting on a small stool organizing the new batch of CDs.
Wrapping your arms around his shoulders, you kiss his cheek. "Come eat before it gets cold."
"One second," he mutters, stacking the CDs in a neat pile before he stands.
"Hi," he smiles at you pecking your waiting lips. You walk back to the front of the store with his hand in yours.
You and Yoongi keep a pleasant conversation going as he eats and checks out customers simultaneously. Some clients come with questions you're more than happy to take care of. All the time you've spent at the store paying off. When he's finished and the store is empty of customers, he pulls you between his legs. Instantly, you know what he wants. It's his favorite thing in the world.
"Don't act so cocky," he murmurs against your lips.
"You're too cute." Your giggle is cut short by a kiss. Yoongi moves his lips expertly against yours, stealing your breath away. His arms keep you close to him, you also feel his tail by your side as if trying to curl around you.
A moan is heard through the empty store when Yoongi nips at your bottom lip. He smiles into the kiss, proud of himself. You're so reactive to his touch. He doesn't have to do much to get you like putty on his hands.
One of his palms sneaks under your shirt, meeting with the band of your bra. Yoongi's thumb brushes over the cup, teasing at how close he is. In turn, you find yourself palming him over his jeans. He's not fully hard, holding back if anyone walks into the store.
"Don't start something you can't finish," Yoongi tells you, kissing up and down your neck.
"We can flip that sign around and go to the back room," you pant as Yoongi leaves open-mouthed kisses against your jaw.
Yoongi is about to agree when the bell at the top of the door jingles obnoxiously. Jumping apart, you keep your distance. It's an older woman who barely spares a glance towards the two of you. She continues on her way, searching for whatever. 
You pout at Yoongi, who only shrugs, pecking your cheek. The woman then appears with an old cassette of an even older artist. Yoongi had those in the back of the store with a few cassette players. He says it's for the old music teachers who reject the artists of this generation. It's a business, and he needs something for everyone.
He rings her out and hands her the paper bag. The old woman looks between the two of you with an indignant look. "Honey, you can do so much better." She says with a frail voice filled with audacity.
Yoongi tenses beside you and is about to say something to the lady when you stop him, "What are you trying to say?" You ask in a daring tone. You need to know if this woman has the guts to voice her thoughts.
"That you can do so much better than a filthy hybrid. They are beneath us, just like any other animal would be. Why don't you find yourself a nice human boy to settle with?" She states as if it's the most obvious thing in the world.
Yoongi sags at the woman's words. He's fine being humiliated alone but not in front of you. It's just a reality check that your situation is just a thing in passing. You'll never truly like him or see him as your equal.
"First of all, lady, I don't need a man or a hybrid to settle or take care of me. I can do that perfectly fine. Second, this man you want to say is beneath me is the most kindhearted, loving, hard-working man I've ever met. Not to mention he's the hottest too. Now take your old ass cassette and never come back." You don't scream or raise your voice. You talk in a steady dangerous tone, and by the end, you are leaning against the counter, facing the woman. 
She looks at you as if you've cursed her whole family. The moment you finish talking, she almost runs out of the store. Clearly, she hadn't expected that reaction. She probably wanted to rile Yoongi up to try and prove some stupid point she thinks she has about hybrids.
Turning to Yoongi, he's staring at you with a lustful look, "You really think that?"
"I do," you say, giving him the reassurance he desperately needs.
Yoongi steps around you, reaching for the sign on the door and turning it around to 'closed.' He grabs your hand when he returns, pulling you to the backroom. You barely get there when he pushes you against the door, kissing you feverishly. The way you stood up to the woman and defended him got Yoongi fired up.
"I fucking adore you," he gruffs before smashing his lips on yours. 
He kisses you bruisingly hard, pouring all of his feelings into it. You reciprocate his eagerness, folding your arms around his neck. You didn't realize that defending Yoongi almost made him say those three little words. He's conscious it's far too soon for that, and maybe the heat of the moment made him think of them. Still, he needs to get the 'I love you' out of his system somehow, and what better way than fucking you in his back room. 
"All this because I spoke up?" You giggle between kisses though it's interrupted by Yoongi sneaking his tongue into your mouth. 
Yoongi is in a frenzy, squeezing any part of your body he can reach; your thighs, your ass, your arms, your back, your chest. He needs to feel you close, closer than ever before. With each touch, you moan into his mouth. If he didn't love kissing you so much, he'd allow himself to listen to them. 
When you and Yoongi have sex, you always get on your knees first. You enjoy watching him struggle and get all flustered. His fingers knotting in your hair to get what he wants, making him believe he's the one in control. What can you say other than you find pleasure in giving him head? 
It works out because as giving as Yoongi is behind closed doors, he's a selfish lover. He is quick to take what he wants from you; your hands, your breasts, your mouth, your cunt. You get pleasure along the way, he draws orgasm after orgasm from you, but it's all a ruse as he gets the most out of it. Whether it's your taste, your touch, or your mellifluous voice chanting his name. You make him feel victorious. 
Today though, the roles are reversed as Yoongi breaks the kiss and drops to his knees. It's all about you at this moment; you've given him enough pleasure by defending him. You're lost in the moment; you don't question Yoongi's behavior. For you, this was just another horny adventure between the two of you. 
The kneeling cat hybrid bunches the skirt up to your hips and pulls your panties down your legs in one swift movement. His actions are firm yet careful. Decided. He hasn't even touched you, and yet you're breathing heavily. Yoongi leaves wet kisses from your stomach down to your mound. Grabbing your leg, he props it over his shoulder, giving him perfect access to your center. 
It's no secret you are wet. You have been from the moment Yoongi teased you earlier. Your body is somehow always ready for him. It doesn't help that you found everything he does sexy. Your breath hitches when his tongue licks a stripe from your opening to your clit, brushing over it with precise pressure. 
Your fist finds its place in his hair, right between his cat ears. You buck your hips with each lick and suck, Yoongi's name falling from your lips. He only keeps his eyes trained on your flushed face and swollen lips. His grip on your thighs keeps you grounded as they clench each time you close your eyes for too long. Yoongi needs you to see him worshiping you on his knees. 
It's a vicious pattern that Yoongi sticks to. Flicking your clit, fucking you with his tongue, nipping your thighs. It's enough and too much all at once. You'd be on the floor if it wasn't for the wall behind you.  
Yoongi's feline-like eyes indicate he is enjoying this as they reflect his playfulness. Your heel digging into his back and your thighs tightening around him betray you, giving it away that you're close. Not like you were hiding it as curses left your lips. 
Keeping a steady rhythm, he brings you to the edge and over the cliff. A selfless act 'cause if it were up to him, he'd edge you until you were begging and weeping. Your juices drip like a stream, and he acts like a man who spent the last year in the desert. Not a drop goes to waste. 
Only when you lightly nudge him back does Yoongi stand from the floor. His grip on you does not ease as he stabilizes your swaying form. It doesn't take a genius to figure out you're weak in the knees. 
"Fucking delicious," Yoongi purrs as he shares your taste with a kiss. Fear overtakes him at the thought of never savoring you again. There's no one as addicting as you, so sweet and intoxicating. 
You grab onto his shirt, tilting your head to kiss him deeply. It's then that you feel his hard cock pressing against you. Poor kitty is being so good to you. Usually, he would've complained by now.  
Yoongi breathes into your ear as if on cue, "I need you, Blue."  
"You have me, Yoongi," you reassure him, pulling his clothes, desperate to get them off. 
You unbuckle Yoongi's belt and pop the button off his pants, digging your hand underneath to grip his cock. He is warm and heavy on your palm. Yoongi releases a throaty moan as you pump his cock, squeezing him lightly. 
You kiss the column of his throat as he throws his head back in pleasure. Releasing him momentarily, you take off your sweater, making you hot and sweaty. Running out of patience, Yoongi pulls the cups of your bra down. 
He turns you around by grabbing you by the shoulders. You brace your hands against the wall. From behind, Yoongi fondles your breast, pinching your pebbled nipples. He pecks your naked shoulder, biting when he ruts against your ass. 
"I can't hold it anymore," Yoongi groans.
"Fuck me, Yoongi," you whine, arching your back and lifting up your skirt. 
Yoongi spreads one of his hands on your upper back, forcing you to lean forward. With the other, he grabs his member, teasing you with the tip. Your arousal coats him instantly, and with one swift thrust, he forces his cock into you. 
Both of you moan in unison. The pace is slow at first until Yoongi starts thrusting faster and harder. His grip is tight around your waist; you wouldn't be surprised to find marks there later. You remove one of the hands from the wall to find Yoongi's. He holds it against your waist, squeezing it every so often. His groans are like music to your ears. The way his voice gets deeper and raspy, you could cum just by hearing him speak. 
Your walls feel so good around him. You'd tighten around him every so often; it would make him falter. The more you tense around him, the closer he gets. He pulls your back to him, so you're pressed against him. Yoongi buries his head on your neck, breathing in your sweet scent and a hand between your legs. He clumsily rubs your clit, making you climax in no time. It's perfect as the waves of pleasure push him to spill into your warm pussy. 
There's a moment where you both stay in that same position, catching your breath. Yoongi is inside you, his head on your neck, arms wrapped around your stomach. You hold onto him as best as you can with your eyes closed. He's so close to saying, 'I love you,' but fear of rejection stops him. He could live without you knowing but not without you. 
You shudder when he slips out of you. If it were up to him, he'd take you home and do it all over again, but you're expected back at work. Yoongi quickly helps you clean up and find your clothes strewn around the back room. Which is easier said than done. 
"Shit, I have to go," you exclaim after reading a text. 
"What happened?" Yoongi asks, handing you your sweater that had been covering a lamp. 
"I have a meeting in half an hour," you mumble, putting on your sweater. 
You rush out of the music store with a quick look in the mirror and sore legs. Your colleague is waiting for you when you open your office door. When you sit on your chair, you realize something is off. 
You don't have any panties on. Yoongi, that fucking sneaky cat must've kept them. 
    ○●○●○●○●○●
It had been a long week for you, with many deadlines and projects. Yoongi knows how hard you push yourself, so he worries when he calls to see how your day is and doesn't receive the response he usually gets. Something is wrong with you; that's all Yoongi knows. Yoongi changes quickly and gets takeout knowing you probably still need to eat.
He arrives at your apartment in record time, pulling out the key from his pocket to unlock your door. Yoongi has been spending so much time with you, you thought it would be easier if he had a key to your place. A week later, he gave you a key to his place. It was only fair.
He searches the familiar apartment, trying to find you, but you're not there. You're home, though, as your keys hand from the hook and your comforting scent welcomes him. He knocks on your bedroom door, and slowly, he opens the door. You're not on the bed, but that's when he sees the light coming from the bathroom.
"Blue?" He calls out from behind the door.
"I'm here," your quiet voice responds with a sniffle.
He opens the door to find you in the tub, hidden by soap bubbles. Your eyes are red-rimmed and wet. The addition of your red nose confirms you've been crying for a while.
"What's wrong, Blue?" Yoongi tenderly asks, kneeling by the tub to be eye to eye.
"Just had a horrible day at work," you sniff, hiding your face with fading blue hair. It's ironic how it matches your mood. "And my damn hormones are making things worse."
"You want to talk about it?"
You shake your head no as tears fill your eyes again. Work has been stressful this past week, with so many deadlines and little inspiration. The more you work, the less motivation you have. You've only been working at the company for 3 years. How will you manage to do it your whole life?
"Want cuddles?" Yoongi asks, brushing your hair out of your face.
Seeing you shake your head, yes, he undresses and gets into the tub with you. The fact you're on your period does nothing to impede him. It's just blood.
He hugs your shoulders and makes you lean against his chest. The water is hot enough to turn his skin pink and make him sweat, but his goal right now is to comfort you.
Yoongi kisses your head and lays his cheek on the top of your head. Feeling another wave of frustration and pain, tears pour out of your eyes. Knowing what you need, Yoongi gently massages your abdomen to ease the painful cramps. It's meant to be an act of both emotional and physical comfort.
"I'm sorry I'm crying over nothing. It's so stupid." Your hand rises from the water to wipe away your tears, yet it stops midway and falls back into the steaming tub of water. It's pointless; more will retake their place.
"It's not stupid, Blue," he whispers in your ear. "What you're feeling is real; the only way you'll feel better is to let it out." Yoongi is familiar with pain. It's like an old friend, always in the back of his mind.
Yoongi's words cause more tears to fall into the bath water. You're sad and angry, and frustrated at everything except for Yoongi. You're happy he's there with you, the highlight of your day. There's no way you're letting him go from your life. The past boyfriends you've had never treated you the way Yoongi does. They were alright. They just didn't pay attention to details.
With the water turning cold Yoongi gets out to heat up dinner. He sets up the table with a candle in the middle. You're a romantic; it'll cheer you up. You shuffle into the kitchen area with the hoodie he left in the bathroom and sweatpants. Yoongi smiles sweetly at you, motioning you over.
He had placed the plates facing each other, but you take yours and put it beside his, scraping the chair over the floor to sit beside him.
"Thank you." You kiss his cheek and begin to eat.
With him being right-handed and you being left-handed, there is no way he can hold your hand while you eat. Still, you feel his tail brushing against your back, providing that comfort.
○●○●○●○●○●
"There he is! The man of the hour!" A blonde man called Jimin yells, seeing Yoongi walk into his apartment.
"I'm surprised he even remembered how to get here," the fox hybrid Jin adds, uncorking a wine bottle.
Those two men are his best and only friends. Yoongi ignores them both, dropping his backpack on the couch. He first met Jin at the supermarket, where a man was throwing off-hand comments, and the hybrid fox stepped in. He acted as if he had known Yoongi all his life and glared at the man, bearing his teeth. The man left, instantly scared that he might get bitten. Jin laughed in pure glee. His fangs might be sharper than humans, but the rest are the same. He loves scaring humans; they are so stupid.
Different from when you defended him, Yoongi was less enthusiastic with Jin. He got into an argument with Jin about how they would get kicked out, what people might think, and a whole dilemma on hybrids' appearances going downhill because of people like Jin. This was 8 years ago when Yoongi was young and much more insecure than he is now. Jin has been the one to help him ease up and accept himself.
Yoongi's still figuring out how Jimin came to be. He was Jin's coworker; the fox had invited him to hang out with him and Yoongi. The rest is history. He's never left them alone since. It took a long time for Yoongi to warm up to him, though he thinks it was part of Jin's therapy to make him more tolerant of humans. Not all of them are bad people.
"You're being exaggerated," Yoongi gruffs, sitting on the kitchen's bar stool.
"Exaggerated? We haven't seen you in nearly two months," Jin scolds him. His voice is reprimanding, but his body movements are smooth and controlled as he places a wine glass in front of Yoongi.
"What has you so busy, Yoongi?" Jimin curiously asks. He takes a swing of the wine glass, grimacing at the dryness of it. He's always preferred white wine.
"Nothing, I wanted some distance from you two always annoying me," Yoongi jests, ignoring their complaints.
"Or counteroffer he has a girlfriend," Jin then says knowingly, "That usually gets people busy." Yoongi's silence confirms his suspicions. Jin's tail puffs up in victory.
"Pay up, Jiminie!"
"Fuck," Jimin whines, patting his pockets and pretending to look for his wallet, "I left my wallet in the car."
Jin rolls his eyes at the lies. It's okay because he knew Yoongi had a girlfriend before they made a bet. Last week, he had walked by the store to see Yoongi and saw the two of you all chummy. Jin hovered outside for a minute, debating whether he should make himself known. Ultimately, he chose against it knowing Yoongi likes his privacy, especially regarding his love life.
"You were betting on me?" Yoongi exclaims in outrage. They're always betting on silly things. This is the first time they bet on their best friend. Their gambling problem is officially a problem.
"Don't ask stupid questions. Of course, we were," Jin laughs, his black pointy ears flat on his head.
"So the girlfriend? Is she hot? Have you played cat and mouse?" Jimin asks. Yoongi instantly kicks him under the table.
In the 6 years of being friends, Jimin has only witnessed one person leaving Yoongi's apartment, which was a sexy mouse hybrid. That day he also learned that Yoongi plays both ways. Ever since, he teases Yoongi by calling sex 'playing cat and mouse.'
"This was too good to be true," Yoongi huffs. This is why Jin invited them to a dinner he would cook.
Jin refuses to cook outside of his job. He's a chef at a Michelin-star restaurant, and when he's at home, he'll eat frozen dinners or takeout. A paradox of sorts, really. While Jin enjoys cooking, it also feels like a chore, so he won't do it at home. Part of it is his ego; he wants the praise that comes with being an incredible chef.
When Yoongi received the text from Jimin that Jin was cooking he almost ran to Jin's place. A free gourmet dinner? Sign him up. Despite being misled Yoongi stays. He can entertain Jimin and Jin for a few hours. There's food being prepared and multiple bottles of wine on the kitchen counter.
One glass of wine in, and he tells them the bare minimum of his relationship. Two drinks in, and he tells them you were the one to ask him on a date.
Jin is so proud to hear she is human, he's done a great job with Yoongi. Part of Jin's plan is to get him tipsy enough to loosen his tongue, which is why he picked one of the dishes that take the longest to cook. Is it wrong? Possibly, but if he doesn't do it, Yoongi will never give any info.
"She's so cute," Yoongi giggles sipping on the fifth glass, "She defended me the other day when some bitch said she deserved better."
"I take it you're happy, Yoongi?" Jimin asks him, head propped up in his hands. He's more than tipsy, getting carried away by the expensive wine Jin bought.
"I thought I was happy as I was, but then she was just there, and I got so excited when she visited the store. She's soft and kind and doesn't complain about all the kisses. She liked when I purred!" Yoongi says as if it's an outrage.
"We like it when you purr, you ungrateful cat!" Jin shouts, waving around the wooden spoon, splatters of food staining the counter.
"No, you guys tease me about it," Yoongi argues.
"That doesn't mean we don't like it!"
They don't get around to eating Jin's delicious food because they are all too drunk to think when it's done. Jin got too carried away with the timing of the food. Jimin tapped out first, disappearing from the kitchen. Jin and Yoongi resisted longer as their hybrid bodies metabolized alcohol slower.
Yoongi, who is usually quiet, can't stop talking about you. Jin, who is a total gossip, is eating up his words. It's a clear indication the pair is wasted. That and the fourth empty bottle of cabernet.
"Jin, I swear she's driving me insane. She's insatiable, and I fucking love it," Yoongi smiles widely. He's lovestruck and way too drunk. You would surely be furious if you heard how he was talking about your relationship.
"Wow, you finally found someone that keeps up with you." Jin is astonished. Yoongi has a high sex drive. When Jin got him to go out clubbing, he would always leave with someone. Hell, there were times when Yoongi would have someone with him during his heats. He had all the contacts.
"God, she has given me the best head of my fucking life, and she loves it too, always on her fucking knees. Look at this."
Yoongi doesn't think as he pulls a Polaroid out of his wallet. Given your hobby of photography, you have many cameras around the apartment. One day, he didn't hesitate to reach out and snap a pic.
It's a picture of you on your knees, Yoongi's cock in your tiny hand, and your blue hair in two braids barely covering your chest. Yoongi's ring-clad hand is holding your cheeks, forcing you to open your mouth to show his white cum in your mouth.
"Lucky son of a bitch," Jin gasps, staring wide-eyed at the photograph. Yoongi is too drunk to realize how bad it is that he's sharing a picture made only for his eyes. Luckily, Jin is too drunk to remember it in the morning.
Laughing loudly, Yoongi stumbles into Jin's living room. The fox is behind him, yelling at him for rubbing in his face his thriving sex life. Jin feels guilty about the tightness in his pants, he can't help it. He has been single for too long and his job keeps him busy leaving no room for one-night stands. The only release is the one his hand provides.
Yoongi trips on Jimin, sleeping on the floor, his chubby cheek squishing onto the carpet. The room is spinning for the cat hybrid; he barely manages to fall on the couch face down, getting knocked out instantly.
The following day Yoongi wakes up with a splitting headache and a kink in his neck. He stumbles into the kitchen to get water and finds a puffy-faced Jin. He has a spoon in his hand as he eats the untouched food from last night straight from the pot.
"I'm a culinary genius," he talks with his mouth full.
Yoongi grabs the spoon Jin offers him and digs in. He moans at how delicious it is, even if it's cold and he's not quite sure what it is. This is what he came for last night.
"How did I let you fool me again?" Yoongi wonders. It's not the first time Jin has done something like this to get him to join them.
Despite their headaches, both hybrids laugh loudly, the older one choking on the food. Yoongi laughs louder, patting him on the back. He loves his two friends; it's just that he loves being on his own, too, and they can be clingy as fuck. He appreciates it when they reach out, though.
Jimin appears in the doorway with an indignant look on his face. "Some of us are trying to sleep. What has the two of you giggling like a bunch of schoolgirls?"
○●○●○●○●○●
"Help."
Yoongi looks up from the sofa seeing you with your hair parted in chunks. There are strands of hair with blue hair dye and others without.
"What are you doing?" He stands, walking over to you to assess the situation.
"I can't reach the back," you say sheepishly. Whenever you dye your hair, you have friends with you to help you out. Hoseok has helped you a bunch of times as he's used to dyeing his hair. Your brother helps out too, seeing as he learned when he was a teenager to help you out.
You thought you could do it today on your own; you were desperate to revive your hair to the bright blue that you love. You were wrong because it got too messy and complicated as soon as you got to the strands in the back.
Yoongi sighs but follows you into the bathroom. He puts on a pair of gloves and, with your instructions, applies the blue hair dye. He'll be here a while; you have long hair and a lot of it. He hopes you have another dye tube because the one on the tray won't be enough.
"You're doing it wrong," you say for the third time since he started.
Yoongi pulls your hair lightly, forcing your head back to look up at him. He glares at you in warning; he's running out of patience. You reciprocate the glare. "Ouch."
"You're the one that needs help. Tone it down," Yoongi sighs angrily, brushing the dye on the top of your head.
"I'm just saying you're not adding enough," you snap, annoyed at Yoongi.
You should've known better than to ask for Yoongi's help; you're too much of a perfectionist. You're friends know you well enough already to handle your perfectionism. Still, it's something Yoongi has yet to see much of and needs to learn.
"No, you are saying it a whole other thing entirely. I'm no expert and doing you a favor, I don't need all the reprimanding." Yoongi argues, looking at you through the bathroom mirror.
"Fine then, leave," you grit, snatching the paintbrush from his hands to try and do it on your own.
Yoongi blows air out of his nose in anger, taking off his gloves on the way out of the apartment. He puts on his jacket and slams the door behind him.
Angrily you finish applying the hair dye. At this point, you don't care if it ends up patchy. That infuriates you more. While you wait to wash your hair, you slam each drawer and door in your apartment.
In the shower, you cool down and think of what you did again. Maybe, you were a little rough and reacted wrong. You didn't mean for it to come out as it did. Hurrying out of the shower, you get dressed in the first thing you find and leave for Yoongi's to apologize to your kitty.
Yoongi is at home staring at the TV. It plays a random action movie he can't bother paying attention to. You completely ruined his peaceful mood. His ears are flat on his back, clearly showing his anger. You had no reason to treat him that way, he always helps you out, comforts you, treats you like a damn queen, and then you repay him by acting like a total bitch.
He knows it's you when he hears the door. If you're here, you're probably going to apologize. He lets you knock a few more times out of sheer spite. When he opens it, he sees you with flowers and wine, and without a word, he lets you in.
You instantly catch that his mood could be better. Fair enough. "I'm sorry for my behavior earlier. I have no excuse for it."
"I'm glad you see it that way because I do every single fucking thing you want, and I don't warrant that type of treatment," he huffs, letting some of his frustration out.
"You don't have to do everything I want," you say passively, avoiding another argument. You leave the gifts on the kitchen counter.
"You don't get it?" Yoongi chuffs in disbelief, crossing his arms.
"Get what?"
"I do all those things because I like you and want to make you happy. When you treat me like I'm stupid, it drives me nuts. I don't deserve that."
"You're right, you don't," you agree instantly, "I understand if you want me to leave."
With your head hung, you reach for the door. You think that's what he means with his words. You think he's tired of you that you pushed him away with your bitch mood. You didn't mean to act that way; it just comes out sometimes, especially when you're PMSing.
"Come back, you idiot," Yoongi sighs.
Yoongi grabs your arm, slamming you against the door and kissing you hotly. How you irritate him drives him crazy, but you're not perfect, and neither is he. He'd rather work through it than let you go.
Your hands go under his oversized t-shirt, your nails dragging down his abdomen. Yoongi hisses in pain and wraps one of his hands against your throat, squeezing lightly.
"Don't ever speak to me like that, understood?" His voice is low and commanding.
You stare at him with wide eyes, feeling a wave of arousal. It's no secret that Yoongi has that effect on you, and it amplifies when he gets controlling like this.
"Say it, Blue." Yoongi repeats, tightening the fingers around your neck.
"I understand, Yoongi," you say seductively.
With his hand still around your neck, he smashes his lips on yours, teeth and tongue included. Your arms go around him, lightly tugging on his black tail, and his hips thrust as soon as you do. It never fails to surprise him. You've learned so much in the short time you've been with him.
Yoongi hoists you up, wrapping your legs around him, letting him carry you to his bedroom. The door slams against the wall as he indelicately drops you in the bed.
"Take off your clothes," he orders, sitting on the bed. He watches you with hard eyes, waiting for you to do as he says. "Today, Blue," he scorns when you take too long for his liking.
You don't know what's gotten into him, but you like it. Starting with your hoodie-the hoodie he left behind- you reveal a pretty white bra with flower details. Your leggings go next, then your bra, and lastly, your panties. Yoongi barely reacts, motioning you to continue with each piece you take off.
"Lay on the bed," he points with his head.
You crawl onto the bed, laying on the fluffy pillows that spill with his cologne. You're expecting him to join you, you couldn't be more wrong.
"Touch yourself," Yoongi nonchalantly speaks, tongue poking at his cheek in annoyance.
"W-What?" It shouldn't be a big deal you've had sex with Yoongi many times before, but this is different. Touching yourself is something you do in private, not under your boyfriend's scrutinizing gaze.
"Touch yourself, Blue. I know you do it. You think I haven't seen the toys you hide?" He mocks you with a mean smirk.
"Yoongi, I-"
"Touch yourself, now, and look at me while you do," he snaps, sending you a glare.
If you were to say no, that would be the end of it. Yoongi wouldn't force you to do anything you didn't want. He's confident you'd enjoy this, though…to an extent.
Complying, you begin by massaging your breasts, pulling on your hard nipples just like he does when he touches you. Shyly one hand trails down your stomach, and you open your legs, revealing your pussy that Yoongi happens to love so much. It's not an assumption. He's vocalized it many times. He swears he can cum just by looking at it.
Circling your clit with your fingers, you moan his name, calling him to take you. He ignores you, fixating on your actions. A single digit slides between your folds as it easily enters you. You're soaked. It's never the same as when he does it, not as satisfying.
Yoongi notices the glistening of your juices from the foot of the bed, small wet sounds come from your body, along with your whines for him. Your eyes close in instinct while you chase pleasure.
"Open your eyes." You obey his command, your eyes focusing on his face as he licks his lips. You insert two fingers, pumping them steadily, giving him the show he desires.
"How does it feel?" Yoongi inquires, holding your knees open with his strong hands when they clench at the pleasure you're bringing to yourself. He's kneeling right in front of you, entranced.
"Fucking good," you pant, your hand reaching for the one on your knee.
"Better than when I do it?" He asks, lacing your fingers together.
"No, never," you gasp. Yoongi's fingers know you better than you do yourself. They reach depths you've never explored. They are agile and strong due to his talent on the piano. He would touch you just as he does the keys softly at first, adding force when needed and caressing lightly once the piece's climax is over. Always ready to go again and again until he perfect's it.
"Add another one," Yoongi purrs. You've taken his cock many times now. You're always tight but so ready for him.
You replicate his movements when he touches you, curving your fingers until you find that spot. The squelching sound intensifies when you add that third finger, it's music to Yoongi's ears.
A high-pitched yell from you informs him of all he needs to know, "That's it, you found it, haven't you?"
"Yes," you say in a high-pitched moan, your legs try to clench, but Yoongi's strong hands impede you.
"Stop," he says before you cum, "I said stop, Blue!" he roars when you ignore him. You are so close. His hand grips your wrist, forcing you to stop. You open your eyes, hadn't realized they were closed.
"You never listen. Do you?" Yoongi condescendingly mutters.
"I'm sorry," you say, out of breath, hoping he'll join you to finish you off.
He shakes his head, ignoring your apology, "Go on, Lick your fingers."
Obediently you bring your fingers to your lips, licking them clean as per his orders.
"You taste delicious, don't you?"
"Mhm, but you're better." Your eyes are hopeful he'll have his way with you now.
"Too bad 'cause you're not getting it today," he mocks with a fake pout.
"What?" You ask, bewildered.
"Not after what you did today," he says, dipping one of his fingers between your fold, making you shiver. He brings that same finger to his lips, tasting you.
"Yoongi, I said I was sorry," you argue, sitting up on the bed, begging for him.
"And that changes what?" He cocks an eyebrow at your words.
He grabs your chin and kisses you deeply. You numbly follow along before he pulls away, "Get dressed and come out. There's a new episode of that show you like. Oh, and don't you dare cum."
"I don't get it! I'm here begging for you, and you won't touch me." You're upset, but more than that, you're horny. Yoongi is a drug you can't get enough of, and being denied of him sends you into a frenzy. "Wasn't my apology enough?"
"Blue, I forgave you the moment you got here," Yoongi smiles at you sweetly.
"Then why?" You ask, your shoulders slumping.
"Well, just because I forgave you doesn't mean you don't need a punishment."
"And no sex was the way to go. You could do so much better, Yoongi?" You taunt him, thinking this is the way he'll give you what you want.
"Says the girl who couldn't keep her hands to herself and brought me to her apartment on the second date," Yoongi teases her.
"Are you slut shaming me?" You gasp in disbelief.
"No, I'm just saying when it comes to me, you have no control," he shrugs.
"Please, next time I'm mad at you, we'll see who has no control," you pout, gathering your clothes strewn on the floor.
"Probably you. We know how you get when you're mad," Yoongi winks.
You wanted him, he was decided, though, and a stubborn Yoongi always wins. You get dressed again, only in his hoodie, hoping he changes his mind. He doesn't. He acts as if the fight never happened, cuddles you, and kisses you, but that night he doesn't touch you the way you want, ignoring all your advances.
The following day is a different story as Yoongi fucks you like you want, ravaging your body. Everything he held back the day before he uses to his advantage. You didn't hold back one bit as you begged Yoongi to fuck you harder. The neighbors will surely complain to the landlord about the unholy noises coming from his room.
○●○●○●○●○●
“Ah,” Yoongi’s moans are hidden by the water falling from the shower. He’s right below the shower head, cold water covering his body. The past three months have gone by so quickly that his heat surprised him.
His back leans against the shower wall as he rubs himself under the cold water. His hips thrust into his hand in desperate need. Yoongi whines in discomfort; his peak is too hard to reach alone. He would call you, but he’s not ready yet. He is not in complete control when he’s in heat, Yoongi knows he’ll say things that will throw you off, and it’s not like you’ll even agree to help him in the first place. You love sex, and you love sex with Yoongi, but this is something else entirely.
Yoongi moans as he continues to pump his cock. It feels so good yet so painful at the same time. The more he reaches his climax, the more the pain intensifies. If he had you here, he’d have you against the wall as he fucks you from behind. The thought sends another wave of heat through his body.
In his horny haze, he remembers something he stole from you, a little piece of you. He shuts off the water, not bothering to dry himself. He has the panties he stole from you that day at the shop on his nightstand drawer. They have your scent attached to them. Should be enough to let him cum.
Yoongi lies on his bed, sweat, and water sticking to the bed sheets. He grabs the soft fabric and envelops it in his aching length. Yoongi fists his length, imagining he’s with you, how your hands tighten around his cock, or how you like to choke on it when giving him head. Your tight fucking pussy always feels so good. He always needs to stretch you out with his fingers. His moves quicken; the only noise in the room is his desperate moans calling for you, for his Blue. Reaching his orgasm, he covers your panties with his cum. Momentarily his temperature lowers, and his breathing slows as he catches his breath. The first day is the worst. He just needs to get over this day.
If he’d been single, he would’ve called other hybrids he knew and had helped him before. He has you know he doesn’t want to disrespect you or your relationship. He’d be thinking of you even if he’s with someone else. Due to this, through the next two days, his hand becomes his best friend.
                      ○●○●○●○●○●
It’s your six-month anniversary today, and after a romantic date, you and Yoongi desperately enter your apartment. Hands are everywhere, lips are swollen, and sex is in the air. Yoongi teased you all night under the dinner table, refusing to give you what you wanted. Your begging in his ear to fuck you in the car or bathroom not working in your favor.
The door to your apartment bangs against the wall as you push it open. Yoongi pushes you into the room, slamming the door behind him. He likes to think he has it memorized. He pulls your leg around his waist, grinding against you. You moan as he buries his head on your neck.
A cough and the scent of another hybrid force Yoongi to stop in his tracks. With narrowed eyes, he pulls away from your neck. A bunny hybrid stands at the living room entrance, a corn popsicle in his hand.
“For fucks sake Jungkook,” you say under your breath, creating distance between you and Yoongi. “How many times have I told you to call ahead?”
“I did, though! I sent you a message this morning,” he shrugs, taking a bite of his ice cream.
“The message says ‘What’s up?’” You read the message, expecting to see another one following up with an announcement of his visit. The bunny shrugs like it’s not his problem, and you sigh in annoyance.
Yoongi is confused, to say the least. Who is this stranger in your living room? Noticing his expression, you quickly introduce the two hybrids.
“Yoongi, this is my brother Jungkook.”
Yoongi’s confusion rises to a new degree; something is not adding up. Jungkook catches on to his train of thought, and with a chuckle, he adds, “Adopted.”
You had never mentioned your brother was a hybrid. You’ve been dating for six months, and that never came up once. He wonders why that is. It would explain the light hybrid scent in your apartment. Yoongi always thought it came from one of your neighbor’s apartments.
“Nice to meet you, Jungkook,” Yoongi coughs to ease the tension.
“How long are you staying?” You ask your brother, crossing your arms against your chest. You are slightly upset, today is meant to be a celebration, and with Jungkook here, that can’t happen. Still, you’re not mad. You love Kook; he’s your best friend.
“Just the weekend, I got an exam on Tuesday,” Jungkook says.
“You look really nice,” he tells you, “Were you guys on a date?”
Yoongi nods solemnly. He’s not sure what to do in this situation. He thought when he’d meet your family, it wouldn’t be in such a compromising condition. Granted, Jungkook being a hybrid helped ease his nerves. He doesn’t have to worry about a stranger judging him or you for your relationship.
“I’m sorry for interrupting,” Jungkook grimaces in apology.
“Does mom know you’re here?” You ask him while walking to your room.
Clearly, Jungkook is here to stay, so you’ll change and get more comfortable. There’s no use in staying in the uncomfortable dress and lingerie you’d worn for Yoongi. You can save it for next time and surprise him with the black lace set.
“Nope,” he simply says, following you to your room.
You close the door behind you, and Jungkook continues the conversation on the other side. While you forgot to mention that Jungkook is a hybrid, you mentioned that he has no boundaries and easily gets very comfortable with people.
Feeling out of place, Yoongi waits for you on the couch. Maybe with Jungkook here, you wouldn’t like him to stay, or you’d leave with him to his place. The bunny hybrid carefully eyed him as if assessing if he was a good guy or not.
Jungkook almost falls when you open the door. You’ve changed into his hoodie, shorts, and geeky superhero socks. It’s been getting colder lately, making your feet feel freezing. Whenever you go to bed with Yoongi, you press your cold feet on his thigh, making him hiss. Then you’d remind him of his promise of keeping you warm six months ago.
“I couldn’t find the banana milk,” Jungkook pouts, following you around the apartment.
“It’s on the pantry’s lowest shelf,” you mention, flopping on the couch beside Yoongi.
You cuddle on his side when he wraps an arm around your shoulder. Jungkook returns to the living room, eyeing the both of you.
“Jungkook, don’t be so awkward,” you laugh at him, patting the seat beside you.
“I feel bad I interrupted you guys night,” he admits, flopping beside you like you did moments ago. It’s hard to say who got that from who.
“It’s no problem, Jungkook. I’m happy to finally meet you,” Yoongi adds that it’s no biggie.
Jungkook smiles at the both of you and finally eases up. He spends the rest of the night getting to know Yoongi better. You’re pleased they both get along well. If anything, Jungkook even looks up at Yoongi. When you told him you were dating a hybrid, Jungkook was ecstatic. He never mentioned it, but whenever you brought home your human boyfriends, they were always uncomfortable around Jungkook, which hurt him. 
They never understood his hybrid mannerisms. They’d begin thinking he was hitting on you after learning that he was adopted. Now with Yoongi, he won’t have that problem because he will understand.
At the end of the night, Yoongi stays. He’d offered to leave, but you didn’t see a point to it. Even if you do nothing tonight due to your guest’s heightened sense of hearing, you want him to stay to finish the celebration.
“So adopted?” Yoongi asks. He’s lying on your chest as your play with his hair. It calms him down.
“Mm, yes.”
As a teen, your mom had a friend, and she had a bunny girl hybrid as a servant. They didn’t treat her the best, but your mom was always kind to her, and they became somewhat friends. They kept in touch through the years. One day when you were 16 and Jungkook was 12, she died in a car accident. Some believe it was on purpose. 
At the time, she was working for a sketchy man, and he did unspeakable things to her that she could not repeat. By now, the law for hybrids had passed, and she was going to report him. The man followed her and ran over her with his car. Before she died in the hospital, she asked your mom to take care of Jungkook. You and Jungkook became best friends, and your parents gained another child.
“That was nice of your family,” Yoongi hums, caressing your leg.
Jungkook is lucky he was born after the law for hybrids was passed; hence, he was not separated from his mother and got to meet and get to know her. 
Yoongi never got to meet his mom, he doesn’t even have a name. If his memory is good, Jungkook still remembers her, or he has photographs. As soon as Yoongi was born, he was raised with other hybrid kids, and when Yoongi was old enough, he got sold to servitude.
“You should’ve seen him when he first moved in, shy and cute,” you gush over Jungkook. He had this wide-eyed innocent gaze. He always asked permission for everything and anything. It took your family a while to break that habit. It makes you laugh cause nowadays, he does as he wishes and has everyone wrapped around his little finger.
“Reminds me of someone,” Yoongi mentions, squeezing your thigh.
“That’s different. I was flustered by your dashing good looks!” you exclaim, lightly slapping his chest.
The following day you wake up bright and early to prepare breakfast. Jungkook walks in with his hair pointing in all directions. He kisses your cheek in greeting before sitting on the kitchen table. Like clockwork, you give him a glass of juice with a straw and a silicone tip. 
Jungkook likes biting on straws (on everything he can get his teeth on). When you stopped buying the plastics ones for the more environmentally friendly metal ones, Jungkook didn’t like that and began complaining about how he couldn’t bite into them. Falling for his whines, you bought a pack of silicone tips and then another, and then another cause he destroyed them with his bunny teeth.
“Have plans today?” You ask him, ruffling his messy hair. Jungkook leans into his touch, feeling comforted by the simple action.
“I think I’m gonna lazy around and play online if that’s okay,” he asks sweetly, knowing that otherwise you would scold him and tell him to go out and enjoy the fresh air. He doesn’t know that since you’ve been with Yoongi, you’ve turned more into a homebody.
“Of course. Yoongi and I will be heading out to work soon, but you call me if you need anything.”
You had prepared a stack of blueberry pancakes for all of you. You served Jungkook a big plate, knowing he eats like there’s no tomorrow. His bunny metabolism helps him with that, and his unrelenting energy. As you place the plate in front of Jungkook, he gently bites into your arm.
You sigh in defeat, knowing there’s no way for him to stop his biting. For years you’ve told him not to do it, but it’s an instinct of his. He does it when he’s angry, when he’s sleepy, when he’s happy, when he’s annoyed. What varies is how hard he does it.
Jungkook smiles mischievously, waiting for your complaint, but all you do is brush through his long dark hair, undoing the knots that form by his bunny ears. Just like Yoongi purrs, Jungkook makes a weird sound in the back of his throat whenever you touch him around his ears.
Yoongi, having woken up later than you, walks into the kitchen. He’s dressed in clothes he’s left here in the past months. He beelines for you, pecking your lips sweetly as you hand him a plate of pancakes.
“Morning, Jungkook,” Yoongi greets the younger boy.
“Morning, Yoongi,” Jungkook says with his mouth full of pancakes.
You sit between them, striking conversation between the three of you. It’s much easier than you thought, as Jungkook just asks question after question at Yoongi. He’s never felt more at ease with one of your boyfriends.
“Can I stop by the store later?” He asks Yoongi with puppy dog eyes.
“Sure, I’ll be there till 6,” Yoongi agrees with a soft smile. There is a lot of Jungkook that reminds him of you. While you are not biologically related, you’ve adapted to each other’s mannerisms.
In the afternoon, Jungkook stops by your office to have lunch. He always has a great time at your building since most people know him there. He hopes to work there after he graduates from university.
As promised, Jungkook then stops by Yoongi’s store. He has walked by the small shop many times but never stopped to go inside. The bell at the door jingles when Jungkook walks in. Yoongi has just finished checking out a customer.
“Hey, Kook.” Yoongi greets him, his black tail swishing behind him. He’s heard you call him Kook so many times it stuck.
“Hi, Yoongi,” Jungkook absentmindedly responds, staring around the store and its variety, from musical instruments to producing equipment to music albums of all kinds and formats.
“Your sister mentioned you were collecting vinyl?” Yoongi asks him, leaning against the counter.
“Yeah, I have a few,” Jungkook nods, looking at the cat hybrid, who offers him a sneaky smile.
“I pulled these out for you. I think you might like them.” Yoongi pulls out two pieces of vinyl still wrapped in plastic from the shelf behind him. Yoongi likes the bunny hybrid and sees how happy he makes you, so he doesn’t mind giving Jungkook a small gift.
“How do you have these?” Jungkook exclaims in awe. In his hands are two limited edition vinyls of his favorite artists. These have been sold out everywhere for a long time, and very few people sold them. Whenever they did the waitlist, the bids were ridiculous.
“I’ve got contacts,” Yoongi shrugs cockily.
“I have a feeling we’re gonna get along just fine,” Jungkook beams at him, gushing over the vinyl.
They spend quite a lot of time talking about music, and Yoongi is surprised at all the knowledge the bunny holds. There are things Yoongi thought only a few people knew, but Jungkook is proving him wrong here.
“Is there a reason you visited this weekend?” Yoongi smoothly asks Jungkook. He’s noticed some things about the bunny that lead him to think it’s not just to have a friendly visit.
“Nope, was tired of school,” Jungkook says, lying.
“Your sister has mentioned you like to skip a lot,” Yoongi adds. He’s staring out the window wanting to keep the bunny calm.
“I don’t skip that much,” Jungkook complains with a groan. His sister always exaggerates things, he barely misses school.
“Everything okay?” Yoongi inquires again.
“I know my sister worries, but I’m fine. You don’t have to do this.”
Since he came into your life, you’ve worried about Jungkook-or not so much about him but the people around him. Not everyone is tolerant of hybrids, and you know this. When he came into your life, you were already in high school, so you weren’t there to defend him when bullies bothered him. When he was 12, he wasn’t big and buff to scare people away as he is now. He was small and scrawny, your parents talked to the principal and the other parents, but there’s only so much they could do.
“She didn’t send me to do anything. I just noticed the bruise on your arm,” Yoongi points to Jungkook’s left arm.
“Don’t tell her,” Jungkook sighs, defeated. He’d tried to hide the bruise as best he could. “My roommate is an ass, and he’s always taunting me, calling me a helpless bunny. He’s provoking me. I usually leave because if I throw the first punch, I get expelled. My parents did a lot to get me into the school I wanted. I don’t want to let them down.”
“You’re doing good, Jungkook,” Yoongi says thoughtfully. He understands Jungkook’s predicament. No matter how well a hybrid does, one misstep can end it all.
“But?” Jungkook prompts, there’s always a but.
“You should tell someone, get you out of that dorm. Staying quiet will only get you so far,” Yoongi advices. From his perspective, Jungkook has a great support system and should take advantage of that.
“Maybe, I don’t want the attention, though, or for my family to worry,” Jungkook explains. They’ve done so much for him already. He doesn’t want to be a burden.
“Just think about it. Your sister is worrying and doesn’t know what’s happening.”
“You won’t tell her?” Jungkook pleads, finding Yoongi’s gaze. All he wants is to do this by himself.
“It’s not my place,” he reassures Jungkook with a nod.
Thinking of Yoongi’s words, Jungkook agrees. He’ll take care of this situation. He’ll apply for a new roommate or move in by himself. Next time something happens, he’ll speak up.
○●○●○●○●○●
One lazy morning, Yoongi stares at the ceiling. It’s too early to be up. His arm is around you as your head lies on his chest. He had woken up from a nightmare. It had been a while since he had one of those. Why is it that when things are going great, the universe reminds him of the horrible things he’s been through?
Yoongi feels you stir as you wake up. You stretch out your limbs before settling back in Yoongi’s chest.
“Why are you awake so early?” You yawn, kissing his exposed chest. Yoongi can’t sleep with many clothes on, or he’ll get too hot at night.
Yoongi hugs you close, kissing your head, “I had a nightmare.”
“Do you want to talk about it?”
Yoongi hasn’t told you much about his past life. When he talks about his past, it’s mainly the part of his life after Lee adopted him. You understand it’s something he wants to leave behind and respect it. It’s time, though, Yoongi thinks.
“When I was a kid before the law passed, I was owned by this family,” Yoongi begins, “Even though I was barely a child, they would have me do chores around the house, clean up their kids’ messes, and obey every little word they said. I remember their kids bullying me into acting ‘like the animal I was.’ They would make me eat off the floor and crawl around the house till my knees were bruised. They’d get physical too, pulling on my tail and ears till I cried.”
“I’m so sorry, Yoongi,” you say sadly. You can’t imagine a child going through that, yet it’s the reality many hybrids face.
“When the law passed, I was thrown into the streets. I was alone, cold, and hungry, eating off the trash like a stray. An old woman took me in. She was nice enough. She needed company, but more than that, she needed help around the house. Mostly, I went unscathed unless I did something she thought was out of line. That’s when she’d search for her dead husband’s belt and beat me with it. I never left, though. Where would I go? When she died, I was 14, and back to the streets, I went. I went to different hybrid and homeless shelters, but there was always some sort of problem with them, and they never offered a way to get out of the streets.”
“What did you do then?” Your hands are trailing up and down his stomach, offering some comfort.
“I came to this city, hoping there would be more resources. It was the same. That’s when things truly got worse….” Yoongi trails off, thinking of his past.
“Yoongs, you don’t have to,” You reassure him, getting in a position where you can see his face. His eyes are distant, so you touch his cheek and peck his lips.
“I want you to know,” he slowly responds.
“Okay,” you nod, offering him a small smile that you hoped comforted him.
“There was this sketchy guy I always saw around, and one day he asked me if I wanted to make some money. He knew I did, and he used that to his advantage. He had customers all around the city with different tasks. All I had to do was go to the addresses he gave me, do whatever they wanted me to do, and leave. And I did, at first, it was stupid stuff to help an older man with a yard, clean a house, or do a delivery. When he had my trust, things got sketchier delivering mystery packages to rundown houses, watching some people and reporting back to him, and transporting vehicles from one side of town to another.
Until one day, he said he had an extra special job for me. All I had to do was go to an apartment in the middle of the city. I went, and there, a lady greeted me. It was unlike anything I had ever done before; she complimented me. She led me to this false sense of security and then took what she wanted.” Yoongi pauses, remembering that horrible day, “Turns out they pay a lot for hybrids in heat.”
You think of Jungkook and what would’ve been of him if your family hadn’t taken him in. Your poor Jungkook wouldn’t have survived what Yoongi went through. His heart has always been too pure, too gentle. More so, you feel pain for Yoongi for having to go through it. What he’s been through is some people’s worst nightmare, and he had to go through it all alone.
“I left after that day, didn’t accept the money that came with it or any other tasks offered to me. I spent a year in the streets, barely scraping by and hiding in alleys. There was the music store I always walked by, and one day I gathered the courage to walk in. Lee instantly spotted me and watched me as I played a few keys on the piano. An instrument that has been there for most of my life. The first family I had owned one, and I got to learn the basics by watching their kid’s lessons. The old lady had one, too, that she let me use. She actually liked when I played.
I played a song lightly on Lee’s display piano, and when I finished, Lee was there watching me. He asked me if I needed a job, and despite me showing him I was a homeless hybrid, he didn’t care. Turns out Lee had lost a son due to an illness, and he saw something of his son in me. I was hesitant initially, but Lee always proved to be an honorable man. That’s where I’ve stayed until now, repaying him for everything he did for me.”
When he finishes the story, you have tear tracks down your face. You didn’t want to cry. You didn’t deserve to. After all, you were not the one to go through that stuff, yet you felt for Yoongi. You felt the pain in his voice and the injustices he had to go through. His memories still haunt him through his dreams when he should be resting peacefully in the safety of his home.
“I’m so sorry for what you’ve been through.” Your voice is watery as you try to voice your thoughts, “I’m so happy that you found Lee and that you’ve found happiness because it’s all you deserve and more.”
“I love you, Blue,” Yoongi confesses for the first time, sitting on the bed. “It’s why I’m telling you, I love you, and you need to know my past before it’s too late.” He needed you to know in case you decided to leave.
“I love you too, Yoongi,” you cry out happily, holding his cheeks in your hands. “It pains me that you have such a tragic past, but it led you to me, and it’s not going to change how I think of you.”
With tears of relief in his eyes, Yoongi kisses you nice and softly. He loves you, and you love him. You know everything you need to know about him, and it didn’t scare you away. He couldn’t ask for anything better.
○●○●○●○●○●
By the time his next heat rolls around, Yoongi has talked to you about it. You had randomly brought up the subject one night, asking him about what he did in those instances. He had been honest about how he usually had someone helping him and reciprocated that help when the time came. He quickly added how he was all alone last time, afraid you’d think he had cheated.
It all made you feel guilty; you didn’t want Yoongi to be in pain and discomfort because of you. At the same time, you did not like the idea of someone else getting to help him and touch him when he was in such a vulnerable state. The only solution was to offer him your help to which he reluctantly agreed.
It led to a long night of Yoongi giving you a rundown of what usually happens when he’s in heat and what to expect. He pretty straightforwardly told you not to take to heart all the breeding references about giving you his babies. You’d giggled at that and told him not to worry. You might actually be into that.
The fated day finally arrives without warning. His constant fucking around with you completely masked the incessant horny feeling he gets. Your voice wakes him up, ripping him away from the dreamy haze he had been in. Unconsciously he had been rutting against her side, his cock rock hard and larger than normal.
“Yoong’s, you’re burning up,” you say, touching his forehead, which is beginning to be coated by sweat.
“I have to go,” Yoongi groans, sitting up. Despite having thrashed all the sheets, he’s sweaty and sticky, “I’m in heat.”
“Yoongi, we talked about this. You have me now. You don’t have to go through this alone,” you tell him, holding onto his arm, preventing him from getting up.
“It can be too much, Blue, and I won’t be thinking straight,” he insists half-heartedly. All he wants is your help, but he’s scared you’ll be disgusted by this side of him.
“Lie back down. I’ve got you,” you say, pushing Yoongi lightly back onto the pillows.
Taking off your underwear, you lift the oversized t-shirt you wore to bed and straddle him. Since this isn’t a time to have tons of foreplay, you grab his hard cock, pumping it while you rub your clit to get yourself wet. Yoongi complains, wanting to feel the warmth of your pussy, swearing it’s the only thing that will relieve him.
Finally, you take all his cock, a sting following as you get used to his size. He’s so much bigger when he’s in heat you have never felt as full. Yoongi sighs in relief under you, grabbing your hips to set a pace that will please him best. His hands gripping you so tightly he thrusts into you desperately. His eyes are closed, concentrating on how you clench around him, but he needs more.
He pulls out of you and swiftly brings you to your knees, your front pressed onto the mattress. He slams back into you without hesitation, making you moan loudly onto the pillows. The room is all but quiet. You’re whining from Yoongi, pushing deep into you. Yoongi is groaning filthy words about how well your pussy is taking him, and the sound of your skin slapping reverberates.
For Yoongi, the first wave is the hardest to overcome. It takes a lot out of him to cum. He wants to so badly, but the pain edges him on. Luckily, you’re great to help with what you do next.
“Fuck me, Yoongi. I wanna have your babies!” You yell under him.
You swear your words make Yoongi’s cock swell even more, the stretch unreal. He thrusts hard, pulling away entirely and slamming back in. Tears well in your eyes. It feels too good. You’ve already cum around him once, and he barely noticed. You’re overstimulated by this new experience.
“We’re gonna keep going until you’re full of my cum,” he groans. Yoongi is drenched in sweat his hair sticking onto his forehead. His chest glistens with the dimmed lights of the bedroom.
Yoongi is entranced by how his cockhead pops in and out of your wet pussy. His length is entirely covered in your slick, making it much easier to thrust into you. You were made just for him. There’s no other explanation for why you feel so good hugging his cock.
Finally, feeling like he’s near his release, he lifts you up your back is against his front. He digs his head into your neck, breathing your delightful smell in. His scent entangled in yours prompts him to harshly bite you, leaving a mark on your neck as if he has claimed you as his. Yoongi is right, you are a pain slut, which brings you over the edge.
“That’s it, Blue, milk my cock, take all of it,” Yoongi stills as you clench around him, his nails digging into your hips, leaving half-moon marks on your skin as he empties inside of you.
“Everything you’ll give me,” You pant, your legs feeling like jelly as you slump against Yoongi.
Pulling your head to the side, he places short messy kisses all over your face. The heat waves he felt coursing through his body ceased momentarily. He pulls out of you, his cock not quite soft yet. You whine at the emptiness and how sensitive you feel down there.
Cum trickles out of you as you lay back on the bed, yet Yoongi pushes it back with his fingers. He hushes you when you shudder, kissing your thigh, “Can’t waste it.”
As you predicted, some minutes after his first release Yoongi is back on you. He kneels between your legs, grabbing your hips to fuck you like that. Yoongi is a visual person, so he takes much pleasure watching you take his cock, your cunt pink and puffy from his previous abuse. Part of his cum leaks out of you, although this time around, he doesn’t worry as he promises to give you more.
His mind flashes with the thought of you pregnant, carrying his kittens. Pretty girl. He splays his hand over your lower abdomen and presses down, he feels himself inside of you, and you see stars as he stimulates your spot. You cum again, legs shaking. Yoongi drips in sweat and, with a painful groan, releases inside of you again. Still inside you, plugging you up, he breathes heavily and lays on your chest. You brush through his wet hair, whispering sweet nothings.
“You did so well, Yoongi,” you rasp out, “Fucked me so good.”
Your throat is dry and raspy. You need water, yet you don’t dare to get up. Yoongi needs you.
“You don’t have to stay,” he whispers, “I can finish this myself. You’ve done more than enough.”
Through his haze, he offers you another exit. Heats are too much for the hybrid. He can’t imagine how much it’ll be for you. He appreciates your help but understands if you want to leave now that you’ve tasted how it is.
“Just because you can doesn’t mean you should,” you reassure him gently, “I want to help you.”
“I don’t want to hurt you,” Yoongi insists, kissing the swell of your breast.
“You won’t,” you laugh, “I’m sturdier than I seem.”
Yoongi props up on his elbows and thrust slowly, feeling more in control. “I love you, Blue.”
“I love you, Yoongi,” you gasp. Yoongi pins your hands at your sides, lacing your fingers with his.
He’s so pretty with his face flushed. He looks softer with the needy expressions he’s making. Your legs wrap around his waist, trapping him close to you. Yoongi likes it when you get clingy and territorial. It makes him feel wanted.
You sleep hours later with your leg over his hip and his cock nestled inside you. He had managed to snooze off too. Granted, right before your alarm rings, he’s already thrusting into you. You hold onto his back, moaning into his ear and leaving scratch marks behind.
The next day you leave for work, not before Yoongi scents you and fucks you in the shower. The water washing away the remains of him. When you return in the afternoon, he waits for you, shirtless and in sweatpants laying low. He takes you against the door, jeans down to your knees.
By the third day, Yoongi is high and lazy from fucking you so much. He lets you take control, and you ride him lazily, his hands tracing the bruises on your body, some accidental, some on purpose. In his moments of lucidity, he apologizes for the roughness. It’s never his intention to hurt you. You always so kindly wave him off. You don’t care about them, just that your kitty is getting the relief he needs.
You’ve received strange looks at work, and you later learn by visiting Tae it’s because you smell like Yoongi, your usual florals and chocolate scent are almost gone. Only hybrids notice that, so Yoongi also leaves hickeys on your neck (which you hide) for the humans that might want to try something.
By the fourth day, his heat is over. You sneak out of bed to go to work and let Yoongi rest. He’s as still as the dead, exhausted and spent. When you return from work, you smell home-cooked food, and the table is set romantically with flowers in the center and candles.
“You’re home,” Yoongi says, kissing you gently, “Come, I’ve prepared you a bath.”
He leads you to the bathroom, where the tub is steaming with bath salts and bath bombs, more candles are alight, and a glass of wine rests by the tub. Yoongi helps you undress, kissing each and every bruise on your body. You giggle at certain parts as you’re ticklish. Then he offers his hand to help you into the tub.
“Take all the time you need. I’ll be finishing up dinner,” he softly smiles at you.
You relax into the water and nod. Yoongi didn’t have to do any of this; it’s not like he can control his heat. It has you feeling cared for, though, and that’s something you can’t take for granted. When you get dressed, you both have dinner. He apologizes again and hopes he didn’t scare you away. You reassure him he didn’t. You even tell him you found most of it hot, including the breeding kink that came naturally with him.
Yoongi blushes and says ‘noted’ under his breath. The rest of the night, you and Yoongi cuddle, and before bed, he gives you a massage. You tell him he’s going overboard, but he insists, and who are you to refuse?
Days later, you take a pregnancy test, scared of the result. You have no symptoms, but the amount of times you and Yoongi had sex is unholy, and you’re afraid your birth control pills might’ve failed you. His heat clouds his mind, it’s designed to breed and reproduce. Each time he came, he did it inside of you. You know your birth control is 95% effective, yet what’s to stop you from being that 5%. You’re not ready for children. It’s not something you’ve spoken about, either. You pick up the test with shaking hands once the alarm goes off. It’s negative.
○●○●○●○●○●
There are days when you are too busy to go out for lunch. Today is one of those days. Luckily, Yoongi offers to bring you food for when you have time to eat something. It’s his first time visiting you at work, and he realizes he doesn’t know exactly where you work. He always thought you worked at the multi-office building near the corner.
When he follows the direction, it leads him to the building he despises. You never told Yoongi you work there. Feeling uncomfortable, he walks in, where a receptionist greets him, “Hello, how can I help you today?”
Yoongi tells her your name. It feels foreign on his tongue. He’s always called you Blue, and very few people call you by your government name as it is.
“Oh, you must be Yoongi! She told me you’d be coming. Take this pass. Her office is to the left on the 30th floor. You’ll see her name on the door.”
That’s a high number. In fact, it’s one of the few at the top. Usually, that means a high position, but you’ve never really talked about your job. Yoongi knocks on the frosted glass door with your name on it, preceded by Prod.
He wants to leave. How come you never told him you were a producer? That seems like the thing to say when your boyfriend owns a Music Store. You had told him you loved music, and that was it. Anyone can love music and not be involved at all. Not even that whenever he asked about work, you’d say you didn’t like talking about it to keep things separate. How many songs has he heard on the radio that you worked on?
He gets no response, so he opens the frosted glass door he sees a studio with state-of-the-art equipment. You were at the desk with big headphones covering your ears. He could hear a beat coming from them. He taps you on your shoulder, and you jump in surprise.
“Yoongi!” You say loudly, forgetting the headphones on your ears. “Oops, sorry.”
“Hey, I got your food,” he says, raising the plastic bag, but his eyes can’t stop taking in the studio and all the tools you had.
“You are a lifesaver,” you gush, grabbing the bag from him to open it.
“You never mentioned you were a producer,” he clicks his tongue in mild annoyance.
“I didn’t?” you ask, distracted by the food, “Huh, well, this where I work, always at your service.”
“Your boyfriend works at a Music Store, and you forget to mention your work in music,” Yoongi says sarcastically.
“I did say I worked at this building,” you roll your eyes with a smile thinking his joking.
“I always thought it was the other one with the medical offices,” he coughs, scratching the back of his neck in awkwardness.
“This is a huge miscommunication, my bad,” you say sheepishly, taking a bite of the sushi he bought for you.
Yoongi doesn’t know how to feel. He hates the building company for denying him the opportunity of becoming an artist. They were clearly against him being a hybrid despite having the talent. And here you are, working happily in what he wanted. You’re living his dream. It should make you perfect for him, yet all he feels is resentment.
You don’t sense his internal ‘debate’ as you eat. You’re too much in your head over the deadlines you have to meet. It doesn’t work in your favor as Yoongi leaves with a kiss on your cheeks with the excuse of a delivery to the shop. He had to get out of there and think clearly before he blew up on you.
He spends the whole day thinking about how you can work in a company that is against hybrids. He lets his losses get to him and project to you. So when you arrive at his apartment that night to spend time with him, he doesn’t greet you and just spits out, “How can you work in that company?”
“Excuse me?” You ask him, confused you haven’t even taken off your coat.
“That’s such a horrible company, Blue! They discriminate against hybrids. I can’t believe you’d work in such a place,” he argues, standing before you. His posture is tense and his ears and tail lay flat against his body.
“Yoongi, what the fuck? What are you going on about? The company is not against hybrids,” You exclaim, taking a step back.
“Of course they are. I lived through it,” Yoongi reveals.
You pause with wide eyes, “When? You’ve never mentioned it before.”
“Five years ago, I went to audition as a producer. They said that despite my talent, they wouldn’t hire me,” he says, fingers raking through his dark hair.
“That’s unbelievable,” you huff, crossing your arms defensively. Many hybrids work at the company, and she’s never heard complaints of the boss treating them poorly.
“How can you not believe me, your boyfriend, and believe the awful people,” Yoongi scolds her angrily. You can’t be so blind.
“Because that’s my family!” You yell, shutting him up.
“What?” Yoongi goes slack at your words.
“My dad is the company’s CEO, and I can assure you we are not discriminatory against hybrids. For fucks sake, Yoongi, you’ve met Jungkook. Would people who hate hybrids adopt one?”
You don’t like to pull out often that your dad is the CEO of the family company, but this is Yoongi you’re talking to. He cares about you, and you’ve been together long enough that it feels okay for him to know. Besides, maybe this way, he’ll understand that what he says is a lie.
His following words slip with little thought. “Who knows, maybe you just want to look good to the public?”
“If that’s what you think, fine. I’m leaving,” you respond firmly. You will not take anyone speaking shit about your family. It hurts you to hear him say those things. By insulting your family, he insults you too.
You hope Yoongi stops you, but he doesn’t. He knows what he was told. He stays silent, waiting for you to go. He’s set on his way.
It’s one long week where you barely talk to Yoongi. You give him time to apologize or reach out, but he doesn’t. When he realizes his mistake of comparing you to the ones that hurt him, you don’t answer.
○●○●○●○●○●
It has to be a mistake. There is no way your father, who runs the company, turned someone down for being a hybrid. Hell, half of the staff are hybrids. Producers, artists, HR, everything. There are hybrids in all departments. How come Yoongi didn’t see that when he visited.
You’ve spent enough time stewing on this. Time to go to the source, your father. You knock on his office door and hear faintly, “Come in.”
“Darling, how nice of you to visit your old man,” your dad jokes, standing from his desk to hug you.
“Sorry, dad, I’ve been swamped,” you apologize, plopping down on one of the plush chairs in front of his desk.
“I know, I’ve seen your reports, and you’re doing well. I’m proud of you,” he smiles at his daughter, expecting one in return. Instead, she plays with a loose thread on her sweater, not paying attention to him. “What troubles you?”
“You know the guy I’m dating,” you sigh, looking up at your dad.
“Yoongi, yes,” he nods, remembering everything you’ve told him about Yoongi.
“Apparently, he auditioned here like 7-ish years ago, and he says that you or whoever was in his audition didn’t accept him because he was a hybrid,” you say. It’s best not to beat around the bush.
“Really?” He asks, concerned, “Let me look it up.”
In times like these, he’s glad the company keeps a database of all the auditions and interview processes. One of his goals as CEO is to eliminate barriers between all kinds of people, giving them all a fair chance of working here.
“I have his file up. I remember him. He was very talented. He never came back. What a shame,” he hums, rewatching the audition.
“What do you mean?” You ask.
“I couldn’t accept him at the time, but I told him to come in a year or two for another audition,” your father explains, passing you a flash drive with the audition.
“Why didn’t you accept him at the time?”
“It wouldn’t be beneficial for him at the time the regulations for hybrids in big companies were not good. They basically required full background screenings and medical exams. And the health benefits were basically nonexistent. Most hybrids don’t have past experiences, and if they do, they’re bad not because they are, but because of the situation they are put through. It wasn’t until a year later they eliminated that law, and their rights were looking better.”
“That makes sense,” you sigh in relief. You shouldn’t have doubted your family.
“If he wants, he can have another audition. You know we’re always looking for new producers.”
“Thanks, dad, I’ll mention it to him,” you smile, leaving.
This is great! Yoongi can audition, and he’ll be able to work alongside you. You just know he’ll do so well. He already has an excellent ear for music. He may be a bit rusty, but nothing a little practice can’t help. She can lend him a hand too!
“Send him my apologies. I never wanted it to seem the wrong way.”
“I will,” you say, rushing out the door.
A knock on the door interrupts Yoongi’s evening nap. He opens the door expecting Jimin or Jin, but you’re at the door with your arms crossed.
“You’re an idiot,” you shoulder him to walk into the apartment.
“I know. I’m sorry, Blue, I shouldn’t have overreacted and assumed things about you,” Yoongi sincerely apologizes.
“You think?” You cock an eyebrow at him.
“I’m apologizing, don’t be a bitch,” Yoongi pouts, not liking your attitude.
“It’s just you infuriate me. I’ve been good to you. I don’t think I’ve ever done something to hurt you, and if I have, I’m sorry. But what you did was so unfair. Even if my family were as horrible as you made them seem, I’m not them. And I haven’t given you a reason to believe that,” you lightly argue. You’re not looking to pick a fight. You just want him to understand.
Yoongi hugs you from behind. His words don’t mean anything right now. He lets you vent. You relax against him eventually, grabbing the arms that were around you.
“I talked to my dad,” you whisper, “you misunderstood the situation, Yoongs.”
“Blue, I’m sure of what I heard,” he whispers back.
“My dad records his auditions for moments like this,” you say, handing him the flash drive. “You were great Yoong’s, and they would’ve hired you. They didn’t because it wouldn’t have been helpful for you.”
You explain the situation and your father’s words. If he had gone through the audition, the government tracking hybrids wouldn’t process his applications. That’s why your father told him to return.
“I-how could I have misunderstood this so badly,” Yoongi sighs defeated. He could’ve been so much happier sooner if he had only listened. He could’ve been a producer already. He would’ve met you a long time ago as well.
“It was seven years ago. You were hurt and wanted a reason to be mad,” you comfort him.
“I’ve spent seven years glaring at the building for nothing,” Yoongi humorously laughs.
“My dad says if you want an audition, you have it,” you tell him.
“Really?” Yoongi looks at you, “I don’t know if that’s what I want anymore. I gave up on that dream long ago.”
Being a producer was his biggest dream, yet after the disappointment, he instilled in himself, he came to the conclusion that giving up on his dream was for the best. Now he’s not sure he can visualize himself as a producer.
“If you change your mind, the opportunity is there.”
○●○●○●○●○●
Your relationship has kept you so busy you can’t remember the last time you went out with Hoseok and Tae to karaoke. You send them a quick text, and they both agree to meet. As per their request, you bring Yoongi and Jungkook along. The more, the merrier.
Hoseok and Tae are waiting when you get there. They’ve already picked a room. The group orders drinks, which quickly creates a buzz in the room. It takes them no less than 20 minutes to get the party going.
While you and Taehyung duet an old 80s song, Hoseok approaches Yoongi. He’d heard about Yoongis’s job offer and wondered if he would take it.
“You said no?” Hoseok repeats, his facial expression clearly surprised.
“Yeah,” Yoongi nods, taking a sip from his drink. He lightly laughs at you and Tae’s terrible rendition.
“Why? I thought it was your dream,” Hoseok asks. He knows what the job entitles. He’s worked at the company for some years now. It’s challenging and frustrating. It’ll drain you of all inspiration faster than you’d think, yet he wouldn’t do anything else in the world. His stunt at the cafe months ago confirmed that.
“It is or was. I don’t know; I feel out of touch. When I went to Blue’s office, there was so much equipment I hadn’t even seen. It’s been a while since I’ve produced too. I write less and less as the years go on,” Yoongi sighs, being honest with Hoseok.
“How about you come to my studio this week? Check it out. I can show you around. It’s not as intimidating as it seems, and I know you’ve got the talent,” Hoseok offers kindly, no strings attached.
In his mind giving Yoongi space from you is good. That way, Yoongi is not pressured to agree with whatever you say or do.
“You’ve never heard anything of mine,” Yoongi rebukes.
“Haven’t I, Gloss?” Hoseok laughs.
Yoongi’s expression is priceless. He left the underground business when he got rejected by your company. He hasn’t been called that in years.
“That’s right, I know my people,” Hoseok laughs. He didn’t recognize him at the cafe, but after you told him about the audition, he did some digging.
“Alright, I’ll go check it out,” Yoongi nods.
Maybe Hoseok was right. Perhaps an hour or two in a neutral studio can inspire or convince him. He doesn’t want to seem ungrateful, but he never envisioned himself working his whole life at the music store.
“Yoongi, come on, it’s our turn,” Jungkook calls over, holding a microphone.
○●○●○●○●○●
Yoongi returns to your apartment the morning after. The smell hits him as he exits the elevator- someone is in heat. He ignores it, but the closer he gets to your door, the harder it is to ignore. Realizing it’s coming from your apartment, he rushes in to find you pacing in the living room in distress.
“What are you doing here while Jungkook is in heat?” Yoongi hisses, staying by the door.
“Thank god you’re here, Yoongi! I don’t know what to do. This hasn’t happened before,” you cry, hugging your boyfriend.
With his arms around you, Yoongi drags you outside, closing the door behind you guys. The more distance between you and Jungkook, the better. If the smell is strong in the hallway, he can’t imagine being inside it. He fears the effect it can have on him if he breathes the scent for too long. It’s not uncommon for a hybrid’s heat to trigger another’s.
“What do you mean this is the first time it happens?” Yoongi asks. Jungkook is a 21-year-old hybrid. He must’ve gotten his heat around 7 or 8 years ago.
“Jungkook usually takes these pills to ease off his heat. He’s been taking them ever since he got his first one. I think he hasn’t been taking them ’cause he’s been spending more time in my apartment.” You try to explain, although you know very little about the subject, despite living with a hybrid for most of your childhood.
Jungkook’s bunny habits are well known in your family, and you’ve learned about hybrids, too, because of him. Heats, though, was always a subject Jungkook kept to himself because he didn’t feel comfortable sharing that part of his life with his sister. When the first one rolled around, it wasn’t so bad, and after your parents offered him the pills, he accepted. Since then, he hasn’t paid much attention to it.
It all makes sense to Yoongi now. The pills you talk about are expensive but highly effective. They basically stop a hybrid from having heat or make them asymptomatic. He’s never had the luxury of taking them, but he’s heard much about them. Enough to know that Jungkook’s heat will be more intense after not having it for so many years.
“This is bad, Blue!” Yoongi tells you, hands on your shoulders.
“What am I going to do? He’s in so much pain and won’t stop sweating and groaning!” You exclaim on the verge of tears.
“There is nothing to do,” Yoongi carefully says, “Pack a bag. We can go to my apartment while he rides this through.”
“There has to be something, Yoongi. I can’t just leave him like that!” You’re upset he would suggest leaving your brother behind in such conditions.
Your worry about Jungkook is blinding you. The gravity of the situation not making sense to you. So Yoongi takes it upon himself to explain, “He’ll be uncomfortable and in pain, but it’s nothing he can’t handle. He’ll survive, and in a few days, he’ll be good as new. Your presence here can make things much worse, Blue.”
“How can you say that? I saw you when you were in heat, and I was with you. I hated seeing you like that. How do you expect me to ignore Jungkook’s pain and pretend it’s not there.” You interrupt him in distress.
“Because the only way he’ll feel relieved is for him to fuck someone. He needs to get off to relieve his temperature and relieve the pain. That’s a heat. And unless someone magically appears and volunteers, there’s nothing you can do,” Yoongi grits out, frustrated at the situation. Jungkook’s strong scent started to fuzz his brain.
“Yoongi! There has to be something….” You say, not believing Yoongi’s words.
He’s getting mad that you’re not listening, and his following words come out rough, “I already told you, have sex with Jungkook or get out.”
“I’m not doing that. He’s my brother!” You and Jungkook might not be related by blood, but you can’t find it in yourself to have sex with him. If you could, you would, but you don’t believe either can get through the mental block. Ruining your relationship with your brother is not in your plans any time soon.
“Adopted brother,” Yoongi points out. You hit him in the arm, angry at his unhelpful responses, which only gets him angrier.
“Fine, get him a hooker. That will get him feeling good in no time. Still, we have to leave.” Yoongi insists, desperate to get out of the building before he gets horny.
“He is not having sex with a stranger. I refuse!”
“Well, that only leaves me, and that’s not happening,” Yoongi replies, crossing his arms.
You pause your argument, thinking it wouldn’t be the most outrageous idea. If someone were to help him, Yoongi would be perfect for it. He’s a hybrid, too, who has had to go through his ruts mostly alone.
“Are you set on that?” You ask with a grimace. You feel bad asking this of Yoongi, but you’re desperate to help Jungkook.
He looks at you in disbelief, “You are not suggesting I have sex with your brother?”
“Yoongi, just help him for now. I know the first day is the worst. Just for today, help him, please.”
“Blue, do you understand what you’re saying?” He understands what you’re saying but is unsure you do. This is a lot, and the worst part is that he’s actually considering it. It must be Jungkook’s pheromones all in the air affecting his.
“Yes, I do. I know this isn’t romantic or anything. You’re only helping him.” you nod, decided.
“Once,” Yoongi grits out, a dead serious look on his face. “I’ll be helping him this once but never again.”
“Okay,” you nod, at a loss for words.
Yoongi shoves his keys in your hands, “Go to my apartment. I’ll get there later with your bag.”
“Thank you, Yoongi.” You speak before walking down the hallway. Before entering the elevator, you look back at Yoongi, who nods at the elevator, urging you to go. He doesn’t want you in the vicinity if he’s doing this.
He takes a minute to himself, gathering the courage to do this. All doubt disappears when he opens the door and breathes in Jungkook’s pheromones. He finds Jungkook’s room and opens the door. The bunny is lying face down in bed naked. His hips rutting into the bed to feel any type of relief. His back glistens with sweat, and his dark hair sticks to his neck.
“Hey, Kook,” Yoongi says, walking to the bed.
“Yoongi?” Jungkook says in a haze, propping himself up on his elbows, but his thrusting doesn’t cease. If he were in his right mind, he’d instantly stop and cover up. He didn’t want to, though. He had to make the pain disappear.
“I’m here to help. Is that okay?” Yoongi asks, sitting on the edge of the bed.
“Please,” Jungkook chokes, “It hurts so much.”
“I’ll take care of you,” Yoongi soothes him, a long finger trailing down his back. Reaching the base of his spine Yoongi tugs on the black cottontail. Jungkook whines thrusting harder against the mattress.
“Turn around,” Yoongi softly tells him.
Jungkook shakes his head, “I can’t-“
“If you don’t, then I can’t touch you, and you want me to touch you, right?” Yoongi asks him. Being in heat messes with every thought in your head. It makes hybrids think that even the smallest actions are impossible, and Jungkook suppressing his heat brings him back to step one.
With a groan Jungkook turns his body around, his cock bobs up and down as he settles on his back. Yoongi licks his lips, the bunny is so hard and ready to burst there’s a steady stream of precum coating his head.
Yoongi’s hand slides down Jungkook’s chest, admiring the hard muscle. It continues to trail down his abdomen until it reaches his pelvis. The younger boy’s hips rut, feeling Yoongi’s hands close to his cock.
Jungkook has not stopped moaning once, every little touch sending him waves of painful pleasure. He begs Yoongi to do anything, touch him, fuck him, suck him. Getting more comfortable between Jungkook’s legs, Yoongi starts stroking him. The bunny is hot and heavy in his palm. He spits in his hand for good measure, but it’s barely necessary. His thumb brushes over the dark pink tip, spreading the milky liquid down his shaft.
“Fuck,” Jungkook curses, hand tugging at his hair and hips thrusting into Yoongi’s palm. His abs tense, showcasing the hard muscle underneath. It’s a sight for sore eyes that makes Yoongi’s pants tighten. Yoongi might’ve done this as a favor to you both, but he will enjoy this as much as he can.
“Look at me, Kook,” Yoongi calls the youngest’s attention, “Focus on me.”
The bunny’s hazy stare lands on the cat hybrid on top of him. He is also sweating, feeling the heat of the moment. His feline eyes are calculating, afraid of missing any of Jungkook’s response to his touch. The wet noise Yoongi’s hand makes as he flicks his wrist fills the room along with the bunny’s pleas.
Jungkook tries hard to keep his eyes on Yoongi, but when he feels his peak near, his eyes roll back, and his mouth opens. “That’s it, bunny, cum,” the cat hybrid encourages him, “You’ll feel so much better.”
Jungkook groans, feeling his peak, and it’s like some of the heat has dissipated. Ropes of white paint Yoongi’s hand and Jungkook’s stomach. Raising his hand to his lips, Yoongi licks the bunny’s cum, tasting him. Fuck, did he taste good. It would be a shame for Jungkook to miss it.
Leaning over, Jungkook Yoongi says, “Open your mouth, bunny.”
Jungkook doesn’t understand why but tentatively opens his mouth. Yoongi grabs his cheeks between his thumb and pointer finger and lets his saliva mixed with Jungkook’s cum, drip into the bunny’s mouth.
“Now swallow,” Yoongi orders him.
Jungkook obeys the cat hybrid, swallowing his spit. He never thought his own taste would arouse him and make him hard again in seconds. He blames it on the heat. With his temperature rising, Jungkook grabs Yoongi’s sides and flips them over. He kisses his sister’s boyfriend hard, leaving open-mouthed kisses down his pale neck, leaving a hard bite behind.
“Fuck,” Yoongi moans. He had forgotten that bunnies like to bite.
Jungkook needs to feel him close, touch him, taste him too. He takes off Yoongi’s hoodie and his t-shirt touching the older guy’s chest. He continues to kiss the cat hybrid, even biting his pouty lips. Yoongi lets him be in control for now. Jungkook needs to enjoy himself too.
Jungkook’s hard-on presses against Yoongi’s lower stomach, and feeling the skin-on-skin contact, Jungkook begins to thrust again, moaning into Yoongi’s mouth.
Jungkook is curious, curious about Yoongi and his body. He’s touched and kissed parts of him, but now he wants it all. With a goal in mind, Jungkook’s hand trails down the cat hybrid’s body to palm his length over his pants. Yoongi moans are swallowed by Jungkook, who continues to feverishly kiss him, but when he reaches for his belt, Yoongi stops him.
“Not today, bunny,” he breathes, the grip on Jungkook’s wrist tight, “Today, I get to use you as I please.”
“What?” Jungkook asks, his brown eyes filled with disappointment.
“You heard me,” Yoongi says, sliding out from under him, “Sit up.”
Sitting on the edge of the bed, Yoongi kneels between his muscular legs.
Jungkook’s cock is equally hard as in the beginning, begging for attention. With a hand on Jungkook’s knee and another on his cock, Yoongi licks a stripe along the vein that runs up the shaft, instantly making Jungkook release a throaty moan.
“Look at me, bunny,” Yoongi purrs, “If you don’t, I’ll stop.”
Jungkook’s head snaps back down to stare at Yoongi, whose wet tongue licks the head of his cock. He coats the entire length with his spit with kisses and licks. Yoongi’s pink lips momentarily wrap around his cockhead as his tongue swirls the tip. He knows he’s teasing the poor bunny. It’s his way of pleasure to see the younger hybrid fall to pieces in splutters and stutters.
Yoongi teases him, going slow and shallow, drawing little whines from Jungkook’s swollen lips. Jungkook tries to push his cock more into Yoongi’s mouth, but the cat already sees it coming and pulls away.
“Yoongi, pl-ease,” Jungkook begs, teary-eyed. By now, he’s long forgotten about pleasing Yoongi as the fever inside of him gets higher.
“What’s that, Kook?” Yoongi feigns innocence, a string of saliva attaching him to Jungkook’s hard cock.
“D-don’t tease,” Jungkook stutters out. He tries to stroke himself in desperate need, only for Yoongi to stop him.
“So impatient,” Yoongi chastises, holding Jungkook’s wrist tightly, “Hands on your sides.”
Jungkook complains at the request, earning a glare from the cat hybrid, “If you’re not going to listen, I’ll leave,” he threatens. He’s just like his sister. For a moment, Yoongi entertains the idea of dominating you both simultaneously. What a treat it would be.
“No, no!” Jungkook exclaims, grabbing fistfuls of the crumpled bedsheets.
Yoongi smirks at the pretty bunny above him. His hair is messy from raking his fingers through it, long floppy ears falling to the sides, and cheeks flushed with arousal. He wants Jungkook to feel all the pleasure he can. While having sex without the rut is nice and fun, there’s something so satisfying about sex while in heat. No matter how small, every touch is amplified and can push you to the edge.
Now that Jungkook is obedient, Yoongi takes his length back into his mouth. He works getting most of Jungkook down his throat, Yoongi’s eyes water, but it doesn’t stop him. Bobbing his head to a steady rhythm, he sucks Jungkook off, his tongue occasionally dipping into the slit of his tip. The bunny is trying his best, the veins running up his arms popping from the tight grip on the bed. When Yoongi takes him deeper than before, the grip loosens as his right hand goes to the base of his cat ears.
Almost instantly, Yoongi purrs around his cock, enticing Jungkook to thrust up. It feels so good it’s overwhelming. With Jungkook pushing on his head Yoongi deep throats him, his nose brushing against the bunny’s base. Yoongi will never admit that while it hurts, he loves the feeling of a big cock down his throat.
With a few more bobs of Yoongi’s head, Jungkook bursts. His cum runs down the cat hybrid’s throat. Yoongi breathes heavily when he releases Jungkook. His eyes are red and watery, as are his nose and mouth. He continues to lightly lick Jungkook, entertained by the way his bunny ears twitch at the feeling.
Yoongi gets up from the floor as Jungkook falls back on the bed. The bunny hybrid is exhausted as his fever goes down to a normal temperature. Yoongi helps him lie back properly and covers him with the wrinkly bedsheet. Before Yoongi leaves the room, he brushes through Jungkook’s hair with his fingers, lightly rubbing the base of his bunny ears. The sleepy bunny makes an appreciative sound as his touch lulls him to sleep completely.
This is the worst of the heat. He should be able to take care of himself from tomorrow onwards. Yoongi leaves the food and water ready for Jungkook by the nightstand. Hopefully, when he’s awake, he’ll feel better.
Yoongi goes to your room to pack your bag. In there, your scent hits him mixed with Jungkook’s pheromones. If the bunnies had driven him mad, yours added to the mix just about ended him.
He lies in your bed by your pillow where your scent is strongest. It only takes him a second to undo his belt and pull his throbbing cock out of his pants. Spitting in his hand Yoongi flicks his wrist quickly, needing a release. He had his reasons for not letting Jungkook touch him, one being that it wouldn’t be fair for the bunny hybrid. He’d been in pain for too long. The other reason was you. He’d happily done this favor for you, but now you had to pay up.
Reaching a moment of clarity, Yoongi slows his pace until he stops right before his release. He stands from the bed, tucking himself in again uncomfortably, and prepares your bag. As soon as he gets to his apartment, he’ll have his way with you, and the pent-up frustration will be worth it.
○●○●○●○●○●
Almost a year into the relationship, you decide it’s time for Yoongi to meet your parents. You organize a nice dinner at your parent’s house, they don’t have to do anything you’ll be the one cooking and setting the table.
Yoongi would get there later, Jungkook as well. You thought it would be nice to have moral support. Unfortunately, you took so long to cook that Yoongi arrived while you were getting ready, which means that your dad got the pleasure of greeting him at the door.
“Ah, if it isn’t Yoongi,” your dad exclaims cheerily, opening the door wider for Yoongi.
“Hello, I got this for you,” Yoongi nervously hands him a bottle of wine. It’s the one you mentioned your dad likes.
“I was hoping it would be the flowers,” your dad jokes, happily taking the wine.
“Is that Yoongi?” A friendly voice calls from the kitchen. Your mom walks out, surprising Yoongi with a warm hug. He hands her the flowers, which she gushes about. “Such a polite boy, don’t be shy. We don’t bite, we’ll except for Jungkookie.”
Yoongi stifles a smile because doesn’t he know it. Not only has he witnessed Jungkook shamelessly biting you when you get distracted, but that day where he needed help with his heat he left Yoongi with a few nasty marks. Marks which you later covered with your own.
“Honey, I’ll be showing Yoongi my office. We’ll be back soon,” your dad says, patting Yoongi on the back.
Yoongi is nervous, terrified even. His cat ears flatten as he follows your dad to his office. He’s only heard good things about him from you, but how reliable is that? Of course, he’s good to you and Jungkook, his kids. Yoongi is a stranger.
Yoongi sits in one of the chair desks awkwardly, looking around the room. Your dad looks him up and down as if deciding on Yoongi. From looks alone, Yoongi seems like a good man, but he needs to make his concerns known.
“Why are you with my daughter?” He asks straight to the point, his friendly smile disappearing.
“Because I love her,” Yoongi responds as best as he can.
There are a million reasons why he is with you. You’re kind, pretty, intelligent, sexy, talented, honest, and so much more. Despite all the arguments you’ve had you’ve never brought the fact his a hybrid into it. All those qualities led him to love you, the most important reason he is with you.
“It has nothing to do with her job and position in the company? How it may benefit you, Yoongi?” Your dad asks. If he didn’t ask these questions, he wouldn’t be doing his job as a father. The older man needs peace of mind that Yoongi’s intentions are the right ones.
“No. I didn’t even know she worked there till two months ago. By then, I had already fallen in love with her. I wouldn’t take advantage of her that way even if I had known before. Blue is one of the kindest people I’ve had the pleasure of meeting.”
Your father’s tense posture relaxes, and his grin returns, “Good answer. I hope you understand why I had to ask the question. I am only a concerned father.”
“I do. Can I ask a question myself?”
“Go ahead.”
“You don’t mind that your daughter is dating a hybrid?” Yoongi insecurely asks.
“Not at all. I believe hybrids are equal, if not better, than regular humans. My children have the liberty of dating whoever they please, and I’ll approve as long as they are treated with love and respect.”
Hybrids have a good judge of character, and Yoongi can tell that he is honest and means what he says. Fear aside, he is happy to have had this conversation with your dad.
“Daddy, Yoongi?” You call them, walking in the direction of the office.
“In here, sweetheart,” your dad responds.
“Dad, stop questioning Yoongi. It’s time for dinner,” you tell him, shooting Yoongi a reassuring grin.
“I wasn’t questioning, just having a man-to-man conversation,” he says, walking out of the office.
“Mhm,” you say, rolling your eyes. He does this with each boyfriend you’ve brought home.
“Hi, handsome,” you greet Yoongi, holding out your hand for him to take. He dressed up for the occasion, wanting to impress. He succeeded.
“Hey, Blue,” he says, grabbing your hand and intertwining your fingers. “You look pretty.”
“Thanks,” you peck him on the lips, brushing your thumb on his lips to get rid of the remaining lipstick.
“I heard that!” Your dad screams from the stairs with a laugh.
“Keep walking, old man,” you yell back, shaking your head with a smile.
Dinner was fun, and Yoongi felt like he was with family. Your family was very much like you, kind and accepting. Funny as hell, he smiled or laughed throughout most of the dinner. If he had to guess, he would’ve never known your dad was the CEO of a family company. He was very down to earth.
Not that he doubted, but your parents truly treated Jungkook as their own. The bunny hybrid has all of this family wrapped around his little finger. You grab his hand under the table and smile at him. He smiles back sincerely. He can see himself being part of this family for a long time. It heals the part of his broken heart that he thought was beyond repair.
“Let me go get dessert,” your mom announces, sanding from the table.
“I’ll help,” Yoongi pipes up, following the older lady to the kitchen.
“Now that I’ve got you here, I want to thank you,” your mom says as she cuts the chocolate cake you baked earlier.
“What for?” Yoongi asks, handing her the plates to place the cakes on.
“For helping our Jungkookie out,” she casually mentions.
Yoongi chokes on his own saliva, his mind going straight to him helping Jungkook through his heat. It was a given that it was something to keep to themselves. How close is Jungkook to his mom that he felt it was okay to tell her that Yoongi gave him not only a handjob but a blowjob? Furthermore, how can she be okay with her daughter’s boyfriend handing out favors like that to her son?
“He loves those damn vynils so much, he wouldn’t stop talking about how you gave him two limited edition ones,” she fondly laughs at her son.
“Oh, that. Yeah, no problem,” Yoongi sighs in relief. His spirit had left his body for a moment there.
“Let’s go before they start talking about the company. The dinner table is a no-work conversation zone,” your mom says, ushering Yoongi out of the kitchen as she hears her husband talking about numbers and beats.
○●○●○●○●○●
Tuesday, after dropping off lunch at your office Yoongi wanders to Hoseoks office, taking him up on his offer. He knocks, waiting for his new friend to open the door. Hoseok gives him a small tour of his studio and explains some of the newer equipment’s purposes to adjust Yoongi to the environment. Hoseok was right. This isn’t as intimidating as he’d thought. In fact, once he got the hang of it, inspiration returned to him.
“Go on, try and make a beat,” Hoseok encourages him. He already loves what Yoongi has to offer based on conversations alone. One of the reasons he left the company for a few months was for lack of inspiration. Although talented, none of the other producers offered something that spoke to him.
“I don’t want to take up too much of your time,” Yoongi tells Hoseok, knowing he is imposing on his work schedule.
“I have a meeting now, actually. It should take about two hours. Have fun,” Hoseok says, picking up his jacket from a small sofa off to the corner. Without looking behind him, he leaves Yoongi alone in the studio. Looking at the closed door, Yoongi shrugs and puts on the headphones, working on a melody that has been bothering him for the past two years. Might as well.
Getting the hang of the equipment, he falls deep into a creative flow. He barely notices time go by. The piano notes carry him to new places in his mind as they fall into place in the track. It’s like a dam has been broken down. All he has flowing down at torrential speeds, with no one there to stop him.
A hand on his shoulder makes him jump and tear the headphones from his ears. Heightened senses fail him as Hoseok stands behind him, looking amused at his startled expression.
“The meeting ran late. I thought you’d gone home. Are you okay?” Hoseok asks. His two-hour meeting turned into four. The project’s creators fell into discord about what creative direction they should take it.
“I’m okay. I didn’t notice it had been two hours,” Yoongi says, looking at his watch.
“It be like that sometimes,” Hoseok giggles. He’s found himself in that position before. Music tends to dominate the creator most times. “Want to show me what you got?”
Yoongi nods, turning on the chair to give Hoseok a pair of headphones. Hoseok expected something good but unpolished, considering Yoongi’s time away from producing. The first note of the track proves him wrong. Hoseok does not speak for the duration of the track taking in the masterpiece Yoongi created.
Hoseok is amazed Yoongi managed to inspire him more than most of the producers that work in the company. It’s raw and heartfelt, honest. It comes from a place of experience.
“You did this in four hours?” Hoseok asks, amazed.
“I mean, I’ve had part of the melody for years, but the rest, yeah,” Yoongi says nervously. Does Hoseok think it’s trash?
“It’s phenomenal. You have to consider joining the company!”
“Seriously?”
“Yoongi, you’ve got me feeling more with that track than I have in a good while,” Hoseok confesses.
Hoseok is boosting Yoongi’s confidence and ego. He forgot the effect his music can have on people. It’s addicting.
Someone interrupts them by knocking on the door and peaking their head in. It’s a wolf hybrid Yoongi recognizes. “Namjoon?”
“Hi, Yoongi!” The hybrid smiles widely, fist-bumping him.
“I see you two know each other,” Hoseok says, searching for the hard drive Namjoon came for.
“Yeah, Yoongi sometimes comes to the concerts and helps sell tapes,” Namjoon says.
“Well, his girlfriend recruited you,” Hoseok tells him.
“Blue recruited him?” Yoongi asks, surprised.
“Yeah, she bought one of his tapes from your store and liked what he had to offer,” Hoseok explains, handing Namjoon the hard drive.
“She hunted me down until I said yes,” Namjoon laughs, remembering that moment from months ago.
“Can I ask about the conditions of working here? With us being hybrids and all?” Yoongi asks Namjoon. While Hoseok has helped him so much, he needs the insight of a hybrid who works at the company to fully convince him.
“I can honestly say this job is one of the few that treats their workers equally. So far, I haven’t had a single bad or sketchy situation. If you have an opportunity to join, take it! It’d be nice to have you on the music scene again.”
“Thanks,” Yoongi has much to consider, but the more time he spends here, the more convinced he is.
○●○●○●○●○●
“What would you say if I accepted your dad’s job offer?” Yoongi asks you one night while you are getting ready for bed.
“I’d say I’m thrilled and proud of you, Yoongs,” you grin at him through the mirror.
“You wouldn’t mind working with me?” He says as he walks up behind you, eyes locked on you through the reflection.
“Not at all,” you shake your head, “I know it might seem like too much, but I assure you we won’t see each other so much that it’ll come to that.”
You and Hoseok barely see each other in the office since you mostly work on different projects. While Hoseok is a producer, he is also an artist, so he mainly works on his own stuff. On the other hand, you work for female artists and girl groups.
“I’m more worried about you being sick of me,” he jokes, throwing an arm over your chest to pull you close to him.
“Don’t be. I love you. When I get sick of you will be the day hell freezes over,” you say, looking up at him.
“I want to work on something that will make you proud and won’t make you regret your decision,” he whispers. He wants to be successful for you. You deserve only the best.
“Don’t doubt yourself, Yoongi. No matter what you do, ill be proud of it, even if it’s a kid’s song about tomatoes.” You think there is nothing Yoongi can do to disappoint you.
“I don’t think the parents will appreciate my swearing,” he admits with a laugh, knowing how much he swears.
You laugh along, “Me either. Maybe that will set you apart from the competition. Oh! How about a cursing alphabet?!”
“You’re a genius,” Yoongi fake gasps, making you giggle. He sweetly kisses your cheek, “Let’s go to bed.”
○●○●○●○●○●
Yoongi hires a new employee for the Music Store in a matter of weeks and begins his new job. As you said, he doesn’t get to see you much, if only brief glimpses in the hallway before you get pulled away to a meeting or studio.
With Hoseoks and Namjoon’s help, he quickly gets the hang of everything in the studio. Currently, he’s a producer. He creates music he likes and collaborates with artists who want to use his songs.
It’s been smooth sailing; his supervisors and senior producers are happy with his efficiency and creativity. They often seek him out for input on work of their own. Yoongi couldn’t be happier.
He delves into his work, giving it his all. It’s everything he ever wanted and more. But with that also comes pressure. Pressure to improve and better himself. Like he wants to upstage himself every day, and that takes time.
○●○●○●○●○●
A Saturday morning two months after Yoongi began working at the company, you wake up to your boyfriend sitting at your desk working away.
He can’t hear you, as you call him, because of the massive headphones over his ears. You let the sheets fall off your naked body and walk over to him, sitting on his lap.
“Morning, Blue,” he says, kissing your head and hugging your waist, preventing you from sliding off his lap. Yet his eyes stay trained on the computer.
“Whatcha doing?” You ask, ignoring the computer to kiss his neck.
“Just finishing something up,” he sighs as his grip tightens on your hip.
“I was thinking we could go out today to the countryside, drive around and get some fresh air,” you suggest, brushing his hair away from his eyes. His cat ears flicker on the top of his head with the gesture.
“Give me an hour to finish this?” He asks, looking down at you.
“A kiss first,” you say.
Yoongi rolls his eyes with a smile and leans down to press his lips against yours. You pull him closer by the neck, deepening the kiss. You’ve missed him. Now that he doesn’t work at the store, he doesn’t have as much time to spare.
You see each other every day, mainly in the mornings and late at night when he returns from work. You haven’t said anything about the matter giving him time to adjust to his new job and schedule.
“Alright, one hour,” you say, standing from his lap. Before you walk away, you feel a smack to your butt. “Hey!”
“Couldn’t resist,” Yoongi laughs as you rub your butt cheek to soothe the sting.
“Don’t start something you can’t finish,” you pout, escaping to the bathroom.
Yoongi quickly got ready one hour later, and you both headed off to the countryside. Yoongi drives your car with one hand on the steering wheel and the other on your thigh.
“Is it everything you expected it to be?” You ask Yoongi about his job.
“It’s better than I ever thought, Blue. And I have you to thank,” he says, squeezing your thigh.
“I mean, I only cleared up a misunderstanding. You’re doing all the work, Mr. Genius,” you grin.
Everything you’ve heard about Yoongi has been good. As a company member, it makes you happy that he works there, and as his girlfriend, it makes you proud. Everyone can see how amazing he is, and he’s all yours.
“Tell me, what songs have I heard that you’ve worked on,” he asks you.
The day was yours to enjoy, and you did. You needed this time with Yoongi. You had been so used to spending so much time together that you missed him like crazy.
Yoongi needed this too you are his inspiration, after all.
○●○●○●○●○●
Yoongi taps his foot on the floor of the elevator. The company’s CEO, aka your dad, called him up to his office. He sounded normal on the phone not mad, so maybe it’s just a catch-up?
Still, his survival instincts tell him he’s in trouble and should run. He shoves them to the back of his head as the elevator dings and opens its doors.
The secretary tells him to go on ahead into the office. Your dad is there, ruffling through paperwork and signing documents.
“Yoongi, you’re here, good!”
“Is everything alright?” Yoongi asks, sitting on the edge of the seat.
“Yes and no,” he says, folding his hands on the desk.
“Oh?” Yoongi simply responds over the knot in his throat.
“Relax, Yoongi, it’s nothing too bad,” the man reassures him,” I really like that track you submitted, as did many of the artists.”
“Really?” Yoongi says with a small smile.
“Yes, the problem is no one has managed to capture it as well as you,” the CEO explains.
“I’m sorry. Should I continue working on it? Submit a new track?” Yoongi’s insecurity causes him to ramble and miss the CEO’s point.
“No, Yoongi. I was actually thinking of you performing them,” he explains.
“But I’m not an artist; I’m a producer.”
“That’s true, but there’s one step more to become an artist, only if you’d like that,” the man says, offering Yoongi what most would believe is a promotion.
“You want me to be an artist?” Yoongi questions, did he hear right?
“Yes, much like Hoseok or Namjoon. You already have this track, and I know you’ve been working on others with those you can create an album,” the man suggests encouragingly. “What do you say?”
“What if people don’t like me?” Yoongi wonders.
“We can do a test, arrange for you to open for Hoseok’s show, and get a feel of the vibe,” your dad says.
“I’ll do it,” Yoongi nods, “Thank you, sir.”
○●○●○●○●○●
Depending on who you ask, the CEO’s decision was both good and bad. For Yoongi, it’s a dream come true. After he performed his single in Hoseok’s concert, it was clear that most loved the song and the passion Yoongi brought to the stage. You were in the crowd, cheering him on louder than anyone.
But with great power comes great responsibility. If Yoongi was a workaholic as a producer, he’s even more so as an artist working on his new album. He feels the need to prove a point and create a near-perfect album.
His days and nights are spent at the studio, and whenever he’s not there, he’s also at home working.
You have supported him every step, offering him advice when he asks. You make sure he eats at least two meals a day and sleeps a few hours a day.
As the weeks go by, it’s like your relationship has been on the back burner and is no longer a priority. You let it pass, knowing this is important to Yoongi. He’ll snap out of it soon enough.
As five o’clock comes around one Friday night, you go to Yoongis studio. You both get off work at the same time maybe you could go home together as well. Yoongi has been staying till nearly midnight in the studio this whole week and leaving home stupidly early. The only indication that he slept with you being the kisses on the forehead he gives you when he gets home.
You knock on the door in case he is in a meeting, but his voice lets you know you can go in. He’s slouched in his rolling chair as a beat replays on the speakers.
“You okay, Yoongs?” You ask, having the feeling that he’s not.
“Frustrated,” he says pointedly over the music.
Coming up behind him, you hug him as best you can. He grabs one of your arms around him and kisses the back of your hand.
“Take a break from it,” you say, “Let’s go home. You can come back Monday.”
“I can’t, Blue. I’m so close to finishing it,” Yoongi responds.
That seems to be his usual excuse nowadays ‘it’s almost done,’ and yet it’s not a lie. Yoongi just has a problem with self-control. As soon as he finishes a track, he starts another one.
Taking a more straightforward approach, you push his chair away from the desk, turning him around to face you. “You’re taking a break, Yoongi.”
“I don’t know, Blue,” he says, unconvinced.
“Yoongi, please,” you beg, sitting on his lap, “I need you,” you whisper in his ear.
Those words alone are enough to get Yoongi fired up. Guilt also seeps into his bones as he knows he’s neglected you a little. It’s been nearly two weeks since you’ve last been together, a rare occurrence. At a certain point in you’re relationship, you had sex every day of the week. He comes to the conclusion he has to pleasure you here and now. He can’t leave his Blue like this for another second.
He grabs the back of your neck and pulls you close to kiss you. The kiss soon turns frantic with wet tongues and harsh bites. Yoongi’s hand leaves your hip as the other caresses one of your thighs. Slowly it stops at your knee and gently forces it apart to trail his hand under your skirt. He first squeezes the inside of your thigh, eliciting a soft moan from your swollen lips. With his index and middle finger, he presses your center over the thin material of your underwear. Yoongi works his fingers around the area, feeling the wetness seep out of you.
“More,” you sigh over his pink lips. Pulling your panties to the side, he traces your outer lips with his fingers making you needier by the second. A series of begs come out of your mouth, urging him to fuck you with his fingers at least. Light as a feather, he touches your sopping center up and down, toying with your clit. Your hips twitch the slightest bit, pleasing him beyond extremes. He loves to see you struggle.
Dragging his index finger down your folds, he pushes his finger in. He groans into your mouth, forgetting how oh-so-tight you are. “Yes, Yoongi, just like that,” you sensually moan as he moves his finger in and out. Soon he adds another finger, and he feels as if his fingers almost suffocate with how tightly your gripping them. “Fuck Blue, such a tight pussy. Will you be able to take my cock?”
“I can do it, Yoongi,” You whine, laying your head on his shoulder. Yoongi scissors his fingers, stretching you out. He can’t wait to be inside of you. His cock becomes rock hard, straining under his tight jeans at the thought of using your pussy. How could he let so much time pass? He’s an idiot.
“You should cum over my fingers first,” he murmurs, using his thumb to rub her clit in fast circles. It’s his goal to make her cum around his fingers first. Feel her walls pulse and tighten even more.
You squirm on top of him, chasing your release. With a few more thrusts of his curling fingers, you become undone. Your body uncontrollably tenses on top of him, your teeth biting at the juncture of his neck and shoulder, causing him to moan. He hates to admit he likes that more than expected.
“Good girl, Blue,” Yoongi tells her, pulling his fingers out of her and spreading them to see the slickness between them. Your eyes watch as he places his fingers in his mouth and sucks them clean.
“Fuck,” you moan out at the erotic sight. You need his cock now. Standing from the uncomfortable chair, you undo the zipper of your skirt and let it fall to the ground, along with your shirt. Next goes your bra and panties, which you throw with your foot in his direction. He is quick to catch them and stuff them in his pocket. It might not be the first time he sees you wholly naked, but what a sight you are. Standing as you came into the world in his studio confidently, you have curves in all the right places and perky tits with pink nipples topping them off.
“Take a picture. It’ll last longer,” You say with a wicked grin.
“You’re perfect.” not the first and hopefully not the last time Yoongi grabs his phone and snaps a picture. It doesn’t beat the real deal, but it does get him off whenever you’re not around.
Not wanting to be left behind, Yoongi removes his hoodie and t-shirt in one motion. To tease your needy ass, he takes his time unbuttoning his jeans while keeping his eyes focused on you. You’re biting your lip and playing with one of your nipples as he does. Finally, he eliminates the last layer of clothing, leaving him bare in front of you. You moan at the sight of him. His cock big and thick, a vein running along its length, and his tip almost red. Wetness coats your thighs, your mind plays too many scenarios to comprehend.
Both take rapid steps towards the other and meet in the middle with a searing kiss with tongues twisting together in a dance. You roam your hands over his arms, pecs, and toned stomach. His black tail brushes against your side at the same time. Sneakily you grab his cock in your hands, pumping it a few times. Yoongi gasps, breaking their kiss as you touch his sensitive head, spreading his precum on his length. He leads you to the small leather couch in his office and makes you straddle him. “Are you ready, Blue?” He asks, rubbing his tip back and forth on your slit, getting it wet with your slick.
“Just do it, please,” you beg, touching his shoulders. Yoongi lines his cock with your entrance and slowly pushes you down on him. You feel inch after inch entering you. You missed the feeling of him stretching you out. All you can do is hold onto his strong shoulders and moan.
Yoongi has to concentrate hard on not finishing too soon. The way your warm walls feel around him is excruciatingly good. He takes a moment to compose himself before he begins to slowly and deeply thrust up into you. “That’s it, Blue. Take it all,” he groans.
“Fuck, Yoongi feels so good. I missed you,” you sob into his ear.
The room is humid, with sounds of moans and the slapping of skin. Yoongi picks up the pace, moving your hips to the rhythm he set to fuck harder into you. You bounce on top of him, sweat trailing down your neck and into your chest. Leaning forward, he takes one of your nipples into his mouth, sucking and nibbling repeatedly. He swears he can feel you get wetter as it coats his cock and the top of his thighs.
“You’re driving me insane, Blue.” He’s losing control. There is no way he’s lasting much longer. The closer he gets, the more irregular his thrusts become. With his fingers digging into your hips, he shoots his load inside you as you moan at the sensation of being filled. It warms you up, and with his cock still inside you, you feel full and satisfied. You don’t care at the moment you didn’t get to finish, you relish being this close to Yoongi.
Yoongi lays limp under her for a second, eyes scrunched and teeth biting his lower lip. You spread kisses on his jaw and neck, leaving little marks behind that will fade by morning. His skin is sweaty yet delicious as you lick up the column of his neck. Tugging his lip away from his teeth, you softly kiss him, lips slotting together flawlessly.
Being the gentleman he is, Yoongi unexpectedly gets up, wraps your legs around him, and sits you on his desk. He pulls out of you and observes his seed seeping out of your pink pussy. Kneeling on the floor, he then licks up your slit. You cry out from the sudden pleasure and sink your fingers in his hair, causing him to purr. Locking eyes with you, he pushes his tongue into you, tasting a mix of you and him. He rubs your clit as he licks until you can barely speak.
“O-oh my g-god, kitty,” you mewl, tilting your head back and propping yourself up with a hand before you collapse on the control panel.
The way your body reacts assures Yoongi you’re close. Speeding up his movements, his lips wrap around your clit and suck. Finally, as you climax, he bites down gently on your bundle of nerves amplifying whatever you were feeling before. With toes curled and no control of your body, you push Yoongi away before you pass out from the pleasure.
Coming down from your high, you look at Yoongi and begin laughing, “That was fucking great.”
“I had to make up for lost time,” Yoongi chuckles, standing between your legs and hugging you.
“Let’s go home?” You plead with your eyes.
“Let’s go home, Blue,” he says, playing with a strand of your hair.
○●○●○●○●○●
You give your keys to your car to the valet and walk into the fancy restaurant. Your parents had invited you to dinner to catch up, Yoongi was supposed to come but last minute, said he couldn’t because he had a lot going on.
What you hoped was only a phase has become routine. Too many times, Yoongi has canceled on you or stood you up. He sleeps in your apartment but gets home exhausted and barely speaks to you. It’s incredibly frustrating.
You thank the waiter as he pulls your chair out for you and pushes you in. Your parents are already sitting with a glass of wine.
“How are you, honey?” Your mom asks sweetly.
“I’m okay,” you respond, trying to pretend you are okay when in reality, you’re not yourself.
You never wanted to become the girl dependent on her boyfriend. You like to believe you’re not her. Then why is Yoongi’s absence affecting you so much? You’re known at work for your cheery, happy songs, yet all you’ve written for the past few weeks have been sad songs. They are bangers, but not what your artists require.
As soon as you walked in, your mom knew something was off. You’re not carrying yourself as you usually do, your shoulders are slumped, and you’re looking down at the ground as you walk.
“Where’s Yoongi? I thought he was coming.” She asks, immediately knowing the problem.
“He had a lot going on in the studio,” you repeat his excuse, swirling the wine served in your glass.
“I must say he has exceeded all expectations. I expect his album to be a hit,” your dad says excitedly, none the wiser.
“I’m happy to hear that. He’s so worried over it and is overworking himself,” you force a smile, “Just now, Yoongi was saying he was behind on a track.”
“Behind? Yoongi is ahead of schedule. I’ve told him to take a break,” your dad scoffs, looking over the menu.
“What?” You ask, meeting his gaze. All this time, he’s been telling you he’s behind. It’s one of the reasons you haven’t confronted him. You want him to do well, after all.
“At the speed he’s going, we can release his album two months before scheduled,” your dad shrugs.
“Good,” you say dryly.
Immediately after dinner, you rush back into the studio, finding Yoongi still holed up there. You slam the door open, startling him. He looks at you up and down, seeing you all dressed up, beautiful.
“How was dinner?” He asks, turning back around to face the screen. Missing your response, he turns back around, “What’s wrong?”
“Two months ahead? What the fuck, Yoongi?” You yell at him, arms crossed over your chest.
“What are you talking about?” He asks, standing from his chair to come closer to you.
With each step he takes forward, you take one back, “Your album. My dad just told me you’re ahead of schedule.”
“Well, yeah, but there is still so much work to do,” Yoongi responds sincerely as if there’s nothing wrong with his confession.
“I’ve let you do as you pleased, thinking you were still adapting, getting used to the industry, but you’ve been holed up in here, ignoring me because you want to?” You ask him, trying to ignore the knot forming in your throat.
“I haven’t been ignoring you,” he shakes his head, trying to reach out to you.
“Yoongi, when was the last time we went on a date? Hell, the last time we had breakfast together?” You ask him, knowing it’s been far too long.
Yoongi stays silent, confirming your thoughts. He hadn’t realized how much time had passed since he was hired.
“Exactly, I can’t even remember when we had a proper conversation that wasn’t about work,” you say, frowning. You tried to ignore all the red flags but no more. This isn’t good for you or him.
“Blue, you don’t understand,” he begins saying.
“What the fuck did you just say?” You yell as your fists clench at your sides, “Min Yoongi, I’ve been working here for far longer than you have, and I have never once made you a second priority. I’ve always made time for you and checked up on you. My life is not my job; it’s only part of it. I understand this is your dream, and I want it for you so badly, Yoongi. I’ve been rooting for you all this time, and I still am. But I didn’t know that in achieving your dream, you would give me up. I want you to succeed, and I want to be by your side when you do. I want to be there for you in your new life, in your ups and downs. I want to be a part of us. But if you can’t commit to me, if you don’t let me be there for you, then what are we even doing?” Your eyes are welled with tears when you finish speaking. You refuse to let them fall.
You stand there vulnerable, letting Yoongi into your thoughts, and all he says is, “This is what I’ve always wanted, Blue.”
This. Not Us. Yoongi doesn’t want you that much is clear.
You don’t have any more fight in you. You’re tired of waiting on him. If he doesn’t want you, why stay?
“If you let me walk out, I’m not coming back.”
You turn around, walking toward the door. Yoongi stays quiet through it all. He thinks this is for the best. You are right, he’s been neglecting you. It’s not fair for either of you. He hates seeing you go, he loves you with all he has, but this is his one chance. The only opportunity to make everything right.
You beg for him in your head to call out your name. All you want is for Yoongi to stop you and make you stay. You could go home together and forget all of this happened. It’s Yoongi’s choice, and he chose to see you close the door behind you.
To think tomorrow was your first anniversary.
END OF PART 1
PART 2 COMING SOON
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moonlightazriel · 1 year
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Before you /// Azriel X F!Reader
Summary: “hiiii! I have a Az x mate reader request where the whole IC finds out that reader and Rhys used to like hookup casually but stopped before UTM, Az is like wtf bc of Mor and Cass ya know? sad and angsty with happy ending! sorry if it’s so specific lol”
Warnings: Some mentions of smut and some angst.
Word Count: 1,4K
Notes: Thank you so much for this request ❤️❤️ And a big shout out to @azrielhours for suggesting Grammarly, this made writing a lot easier now.
Main Masterlist
“We need to talk.” Y/N entered Rhysand’s office, she looked extremely distressed, her mental shields were high, a giant black wall blocking Rhys out, she would always let him have a look on her mind, he rose an eyebrow, confused.
“What’s wrong darling?” His voice was slow and sensual as he walked towards her, his big finger brushing her arm, making her shiver, he circulated her, his lips glued to the soft spot on her neck, the one he discovered a few years ago when they started their casual hook up.
“Azriel is my mate.” The words came out in a rush from her mouth, Rhysand stopped, his hands falling from her while he gave a few steps back, she was his brother’s mate, they couldn’t keep doing it anymore, and as much as he liked sleeping with her, the idea of Azriel finally founding the mate he always searched for made his heart fill with happiness. “And I want to get closer to him.”
Rhysand smiled, the biggest smile that has ever adorned the high lord’s face, he hugged Y/N, lifting her from the floor and spinning around while he laughed. She felt confused, she hoped that Rhys would understand, but never expected him to be this happy, his happiness almost matching hers since yesterday, when the bond snapped while she trained with Azriel.
It had been nothing special, just the usual training session in the House of Wind, and as they fought, their swords hitting each other at every blow she defended from him, everything changed, he looked at her, his features filled with challenge, challenging her to stop defending and to attack him, and as she looked at his intense gaze, she felt the thread that tethered them together for the rest of their lives, glowing and singing so beautifully that she lost her focus, giving him the chance to disarm her and point the sharp end of his sword directly at her throat.
“Does he know?” Rhys asked, the two sitting in front of his desk, he grabbed her hand, like they were two little girls talking about boys.
“Not yet, but he has the right to know, I’ll tell him. I hope that he’ll not be disappointed having me as his mate.” He squeezed her hands, reassuringly.
“He’s lucky to have you as a mate darling, I’m sure everything will work out just fine, I’m so happy for the both of you.” He pulled her in for a hug, and she smiled, feeling happy to have him with her at that moment.
“Are we still going to be friends?” She asked hesitantly.
“Always. No matter what.”
70 years later
The cold glass reached Azriel’s lips as he hid his laughter, Nesta scolding Cassian would always be funny to watch, he took a look around, everyone sitting one a circle while they drunkenly shared stories, Y/N head was resting on his shoulder, her soft giggle reached his ears every once in a while, Morrigan was finishing one of her stories when Cassian jumped from his sit, eyes wide open, the wine in his glass spilling everywhere as he opened his mouth.
“Do you guys remember when Y/N and Rhys used to hook up?” The entire room fell silent as his loud laughter was the only sound in the room, of course, Azriel didn’t remember, he didn’t know this even happened in the first place. He felt Y/N holding her breath while she locked eyes with Rhysand.
“That’s not true, right?” His voice sounded weird even for him, both his brother and mate looked at him, Y/N flinched as she saw how cold his eyes were, filled with pain and betrayal, they knew how much he had suffered because of Cassian and Mor sleeping together and they choose to do the same behind his back.
“Brother, it’s not what you’re thinking.” He scoffed, already getting up, ready to leave, his eyes landed on Feyre, who was also surprised but didn’t seem as hurt as he was, his mind filling with images of the two together, and the thought that Rhysand knew his mate’s body very well, everything that made her whimper and moans, he must even know about the spot on her neck that can easily get her on her knees.
He turned around, rushing to walk away, ignoring Y/N's pleads for him to stay, he shut her down completely, closing his end of the bond as he marched outside, aiming for the sky, his wings flapping behind his back as he flew away, the tears filling his eyes as he tried to clear his mind.
Cassian had sobered up as soon as he saw what he had done, Y/N was now sitting on the couch, being held by Nesta as she sobbed, Rhys and Feyre had disappeared for a while, probably so he could explain the situation.
“I can talk to Azriel if you want.” Cass scratched his head, unsure of what to do.
“I guess you already did enough for today Cassian.” Nesta snapped at her mate.
“It’s not his fault Nes, we should’ve told him a long time ago.” Y/N spoke, her voice creaking as she cried again, what if Azriel never forgave her, what if he decided to reject the bond, what if he left? She needed to talk to him, she needed to explain to him, she got up suddenly, rushing towards the door, she needed to go home and wait for him.
She waited, for hours, unable to sleep, she would wait the whole week if she had to. She was a mess, her cheeks had makeup stains and her face was swollen from all the crying, that’s why she decided to shower, she took her time cleaning up, and as she was leaving the bathroom she heard the front door being open, rushing to the living room, Azriel was removing his boots, his face red from crying too, her heart breaking at the sight.
“Oh great, you’re here.” He said, his voice laced with sarcasm, she flinched, but she wasn’t going to give up.
“Of course, I’m here, we need to talk.”
“Can’t wait for you to tell me in detail how you betrayed me with my brother.” He sat on the couch, his hands running along his hair as he sighed, annoyed, but at least she would have the chance to talk.
“I wasn’t cheating on you or anything.” Her voice shaking as she knelled in front of him, resting her palms on his legs. “It was years ago, it started as a drunk kiss and then evolved into something more, there were never feelings involved, we would do it mostly when both of us were stressed or bored, but I had to stop it.”
“If it was so good fucking him, why did you stop?” The sarcasm was gone, his voice sounded sad, and defeated, she squeezed his tights.
“Because of you!” He looked her in the eyes, she was being honest, he could feel it deep In his chest, he opened the bond, feeling all of her emotions as she talked. “The bond had snapped for me, in the very next day I went to talk to him, I wanted to be with you, I was already falling in love with you, I was planning on telling you about the bond, so I ended everything, nothing has ever happened between us ever since, were friends and nothing more. I love you Azriel, and only you.”
“Why’d you never tell me?”
“I don’t know, I guess I was trying to prevent this from happening.” She smiled sadly at him. “I know it wasn’t the smartest idea, but I couldn’t hurt you Az, I’m so sorry.” He leaned forward, grabbing one of her hands and forcing her to get up only to pull her to his lap, he hugged her and she felt the tears streaming down her face again.
“Please, don’t do this anymore, whatever you need to tell me, do it. It’s better than finding out from Cassian’s drunk mouth.” His thumb caressed her cheek, wiping away the tears as he kissed her forehead.
“I promise I’ll never do something like this again.” His chest filled with her love while he kissed her, he could taste the salty tears on her lips. “I guess it’s a good time to tell you something.” Azriel rose an eyebrow, scared of what she might say. “ All those years ago, you only disarmed me and won the sparring because the bond snapped and I was distracted.” Azriel laughed, his chest vibrating as he shook his head.
“I don’t need a mating bond distracting you to beat your ass.” he teased and she giggled.
“That’s what we’ll see spymaster.”
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Not Your Classic Vigilante [Ch. 13]
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Alternate Dimension AU TW: Language, Light Alcohol, Attempted Kidnapping, CW: OC Use, See the OC Guide [Here] Genre: Drama, Action, Angst, Light Comedy Pairing: Batfamily & Batsis!Reader, OC x Reader YN Pronouns: Female (She/Her) Word Count: 8.8K
(13/?) [First] | [Previous] | [Next] [DC Masterlist] | [Not Your Classic Vigilante Masterlist]
Notes: IT'S FINALLY DONEEEE this is crazy how many chapters have I updated this year? LMFAO Not fully proofread by my awakened mind yet but I did run it through grammarly lol I'll give it a proper look later
Disclaimer: This series is originally by @fandom-meanderer who is a close friend of mine, but she has since fallen out of her Tumblr days and asked me to finish a few series for her, hence why I am now in ownership of the Not Your Classic Vigilante series, I hope I can still live up to her writing as I rewrite this series! (I promise not to change too much, hehe)
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2012
Things were different. Lonelier. And maybe a bit sadder. You stood in front of the room that now loomed over you, and you took a deep breath to steady your nerves. You opened it, the door slamming against the wall with a loud bang, and you waited, you waited for the usual ‘Get out of my room!’ But none came. And there hasn’t been one for months now. You walked inside, still a mess and untouched as it was the night before he left, and you sat in the middle of it, hugging your legs close to your chest.
“There’s another party downstairs,” you said out loud. “I was thinking I should go for a walk, should I?” You wondered aloud. No answer. No 'Wait for me,' no 'ask Dick to go with you.' Just silence. You just wanted a quiet place to escape the noise, what with the gala going on downstairs and your father acting in front of the masses, you just didn’t feel up to it. Besides, Dick wasn’t even there to keep you company this time. You sat in the silence for a while, looking around the room as if he was hiding somewhere and was about to jump out to scare you. But no surprises came. Instead, you got up, took one of the dusty books from the shelf, and left the room.
“Oh, hey!” A younger boy stood in front of you, he looked vaguely familiar. “Could I ask you a quick question?” 
“Yeah, the party’s just downstairs, walk down the corridor and you’ll hit the ballroom eventually,” you answered.
“No, it’s something else,” he shakes his head.
“Ah, the bathroom is also downstairs right next to the ballroom,” you cut him off and turned to walk into your room.
“(Y/N) Wayne. I know who your father is, we need to talk.” That got your attention. You stopped with your hand on the doorknob and sighed.
“Right, he’s a businessman, nothing else,” you nodded. But the boy’s face remained grim. “Let’s go somewhere private,” you nudged your head further down the hall and he followed. Once you were both situated in a secluded part of the mansion, he spoke up.
“I’m Tim Drake,” he introduces himself. You shook his hand. Tim Drake, a couple years your junior, you've seen him around in your family's galas before but you've never really talked to him, you were always more preoccupied with your brothers or too busy taking pictures to go up to the boy who tended to stay on the sidelines more.
“I know.” Now you remembered him, he’d gone to a few of your father’s galas before.
“Oh, cool, I was worried for a second, we didn’t usually talk much,” he says, “you were always with two older guys.”
“My brothers.”
“I know that,” Tim shrugs. “I tracked you down because I had a favor to ask you,” he says.
“Sure,” you agreed only as a formality. The Waynes and the Drakes were somewhat of friends. Tim glanced around.
“Batman needs a Robin,” he says quietly. You wondered how he figured it out. There was no point in hiding anything either, he must have been really smart to have figured out your identities, even people who worked right next to your dad couldn’t have deduced it. “Don’t try to deny it, I have pictures,” he says. You shook your head.
“If you’re asking me then that means that Dick said no, huh?”
“Right away,” Tim mutters.
“I can’t give you an answer,” you told him. But Tim’s eyes seemed to shine, as if he’d found a treasure he’d been looking for. Why he was so desperate, you didn’t know. “Well, either way, you figured them out, I’m sure you can think of something too just in case,” you replied bluntly. 
“Thank you, (Y/N),” he says. “Even just thinking about it is enough.”
“Why do you feel like you should do this, though?” You asked him.
“I…” Tim hesitated. “I’m sure you know as well as I do the kind of rampage Batman has been on in the city.” You were. Recently, you were certain, that your father and the one behind the mask are two different people now.
“And you think having a Robin would help him?” You muttered. 
“Yes, I do, and who better than his own daughter?” He asks. You looked away and toward your clasped hands.
“You may be asking the wrong person, Tim, I have no qualifications to be a Robin,” you say.
“Better you than none,” Tim insists.
“I could never do what they did,” you shut your eyes. “The Batman... he scares me,” you mumbled, clutching onto the book in your arms a little tighter now.
“I’m sorry,” Tim says. You held your hand up to stop him. 
“I’m sorry too, Tim, this isn’t a good time,” you shook your head, stood up, and you left. You admired Tim’s good intentions, truly, but they paled in comparison to the thoughts that ran rampant in your mind right now. You just lost a brother. Your father didn’t want to listen to you. Your other brother was nowhere to be found, and that left you to mull all this over. 
You felt lost.
Lost in your thoughts, and all alone. This was the first time, the first in a long time, where you once again felt alienated in this manor. Not a vigilante and barely a Wayne, was donning the Robin mantle what you needed to do to be seen again?
You didn’t know.
~
2022
The three brothers climbed onto the train after Damian pulled an insignia out of his pocket. 
“The Captain sends her regards,” Damian says to the guards. They salute and march away after leading them to a private cabin, one that Damian shut and locked as soon as the other two were situated.
“Alright, Damian, you first,” Tim invites him. Damian nods.
“After that man teleported me here, I woke up on a battlefield, it was… very different than the ones we’ve seen before,” he says. “Everything in this world is different from ours, laws, people, everything,” he says. “I don’t even know where to start for you two. I’ve been here for almost two months now and I’m still learning things.”
“Two months?!” Tim shouts. “Are you serious?”
“Yeah?”
“Damian, you went missing two weeks ago,” Jason corrects.
“Weeks? No, no, I’ve been here for a while now,” Damian shakes his head. Tim pulls out the remains of the watch. “Where did you get that?”
“(Y/N) left it behind before she left,” Tim mumbles.
“This is it. This is the watch that the stranger had too,” Damian takes the watch and opens it.
“So this is the culprit then,” Tim looks down at it. “Maybe we could reverse it somehow to get home.”
“Not in this state, it won’t,” Damian shuts the watch in his hands and places it in his pocket. “I’ve been trying to do my own investigation, but without the watch and with the constant surveillance I’ve been drawing blanks.” 
“Superveillance?” Tim, always the skeptic.
“To avoid any unnecessary complications, I had to hide in plain sight, but that greatly restricted my movements,” Damian grumbles. “Now you two, how did you figure it out?”
“We were tugging it around, and somehow it activated the mechanism inside of it,” Tim explains.
“Before I was transported, the man swang it back and forth, maybe moving the watch is key to activating it,” Damian hypothesizes.
“Movement of some kind, but it has to be precise, otherwise you’d be teleporting everywhere with every step,” Tim swings the pendulum of a clock, but in its sorry state nothing happens.
“Well, either way, we’re not going to figure out shit with it like this,” Jason shakes his head. “I say we find (Y/N) then we figure out how to fix the thing.”
“That’s a good start,” Tim agrees.
“Luckily, I know where she is,” Damian cuts in, “we’ve been sticking close to each other since I landed here.”
“That’s good! She’s alright, then? Safe?” Tim worries. Damian hid the smile behind his hand.
“Good, great even, and most of all safe,” he answers. The train halts and Damian stands up first. “But, since I have you both here, we’re going to have to figure out a way to have both of you go under the radar too. So I’ll share the story we've been using.” Tim and Jason shared wary glances.
“Okay.”
“Sure.”
“We’re from the mountains—”
“Fuck, couldn’t you have come up with something more believable?” Jason groans.
“Trust me, it’s worked so far, it explains our general lack of knowledge on how everything in this universe works as for the lack of ID,” he starts, “so, we’re from a mountain village. Recently, due to impoverished conditions, our parents sent all of us down to start working and to send money home. It works with (Y/N) in her position, it works with me being inducted late, and we’ll find a way to make it work with you two.”
“Sure, alright, I’ll play along if it means we can get home easier,” Tim says.
“Home… yeah,” Damian nods, but Jason is quick to catch his unease. He chose not to bring it up, though.
“Fine, yeah, I’ll be a farmer, or whatever,” Jason leans back against the seat.
“This world, though, you mentioned different laws. Hell, Jason and I got arrested for taking care of things the way we usually do, how can you explain that?”
“The law enforcement in this world is basically airtight, and it’s based on an honor system,” Damian explains, “At any moment, someone can be removed and replaced in the Knighthood under two circumstances: reasonable petition or honorable combat. Reasonable petition is when enough people with viable grievances petition for a member to be removed. Honorable combat is when someone challenges a Knight for their position. Because of this system, a natural respect is garnered by the people, and as a result of that there’s hardly any petty crime. As for the larger crimes, those are dealt with quickly, there’s far worse problems to deal with in this world than crime,” Damian says.
“And the law?” Jason probes.
“No unreasonable violence without just cause and material evidence,” Damian says. “That’s the best way to put why you two were arrested. The victim ran away so you didn’t have their testimony, the criminal was knocked out cold so he couldn’t say anything anyway, and two people without IDs were spotted at the scene. Not a good look, right?”
“Fair enough,” Tim brushes his shoulder.
“It’s a good thing you two are in civilian attire, makes it easier for you to blend in,” Damian says.
“Yeah… speaking of, where’s your uniform? What’s with the get up?” Jason asks.
“It’s at the apartment right now, we had to keep it hidden. To be able to integrate quickly I joined the Knighthood alongside a new regiment, I lucked out in the timing, but because of that I have a strict regimen to stick to, it’s been hard to investigate, but now that I have you both here we should be able to delegate.” The train slows to a stop and the cabin door opens automatically. Damian held a finger to his lips to signal that the conversation was over and the older two nodded. Damian leads them out of the train and the trio steps into a high-ceiling station. “We’re in the citadel now, the Knightsguard is the primary form of law enforcement here,” Damian says just loud enough for them to hear.
“This looks right out of a fantasy book,” Tim looks around.
“Uh… yeah,” Jason watches people interacting with holograms and other tech he couldn’t have even imagined. “So, where’s (Y/N)?” He asks.
“I’m taking you to her, obviously,” Damian grimaces. “But she’s busy right now, we’ll have to wait, but you’ll be able to see her,” Damian leads them down a series of corridors. “I need you both to remain calm while we’re here, though, remember we have to fly under the radar if we’re all going to go home, that means we have to play by their rules,” Damian says.
“Yeah, I can be calm,” Jason huffs. Tim and Damian deadpan toward him. “What? I can!”
“Says the man who decked someone first thing,” Damian chuckles.
“How’d you even know that was us anyway?!” Jason gasps.
“Two men in their twenties, one used excessive force on a civilian and the other screamed in frustration when it happened, then they argued with each other right after,” Damian recites. “I didn’t even have to listen to your names to know it was you two,” his mouth falls into a flat line.
“That could’ve been anyone, though,” Tim says.
“Sure, in any other earth where law-breaking was common, like ours. I already explained to you that things are different here. Not to mention, those other worse things to worry about,” Damian led the two into an arena-like room.
“Dami! Over here!” A voice yells out.
“Ooh, Dami, huh?” Jason nudges him and Damian rolls his eyes.
“Don’t embarrass me,” he glowers.
“It’s kinda in the job description,” Jason snarks and Damian frowns.
“You two are so similar,” he mumbles under his breath. “I’m coming, I’m coming,” he responds to Retta regardless and the three approach them.
“Whoa, who are these?” Lowen asks.
“These are my brothers, Tim and Jason,” Damian introduces them. “They are also from our backwater mountain village,” Damian glares at Hugo.
“Whoa…” Hugo was stuck in admiration, though.
“You two, the group here are my friends, don’t be weird. The one eating a sandwich is Niers, the one who called us over is Retta, the girl playing with those rocks is Luciana, the one reading over there is Lowen, and the one making googly eyes toward Jason is Hugo,” Damian runs through the list and the group exchanges awkward hellos.
“Well, you’re all just in time! The Brigade’s about to start their sparring matches,” Retta points toward the ring in the middle. “Every month the Brigade checks their individual progress through these matches, randomized opponents and randomized scenarios. Though we don’t have to be here, it’s always fascinating to see how quick-witted they are. Truly they are the best of the best for a reason,” she explains.
“Yeah? We’ll see about that,” Jason mutters.
“Jason’s somewhat of an expert,” Tim nudges him.
“What about you?” Lowen snarks.
“He’s smart,” Damian answers for him.
“That’s… that’s it?” Lowen hums.
“Trust us, he’s the most important one,” Jason sighs.
“Oh! It’s starting!” Niers leans forward, pulling out his phone to start recording. “Looks like Officer Jones and Lieutenant Wright are first,” he says.
“Jones is the one on the left, Wright, I’m sure, looks familiar,” Damian speaks so only the two could hear him.
“Holy shit… that’s Alex,” Jason squints his eyes. “What’s he doing here?”
“I’m still trying to figure that out myself,” Damian leans forward. “I don’t believe in coincidences.”
“In our line of work, those don’t exist,” Tim replies.
“What’s your first impression of them? Just a curious question,” Luciana butts into their conversation, she’s looking at Jason, the so-called expert.
“Well…” Jason leans forward. “Both of them are in the military, that’s clear from their builds. Jones has a broader build, though, his shoulders are heavier but his arms are just as built, he probably uses a heavy weapon, right?”
“Right, he uses battle axes,” Luciana leans back. “And the lieutenant?”
“Hm…” Jason thought back, he’d met Alex a couple of times, that nerd. He couldn’t imagine him wielding anything as heavy as an axe, and with that more balanced build it was clear that, if anything, he would only be able to use lightweight weapons. Then again, Alex is a nerd, and if this world is straight out of a story booy then one thing could be plausible. “Magic user.”
“He is an expert!” Niers gasps.
“Just lucky guesses,” Jason hums.
“Watch the screens there,” Retta points to the monitors. “Look, you can see who’s fighting on that first one and the second one shows the random scenario.”
“Swords, wow,” Lowen closed his book and watched with an intent gaze. “Just look at the way they even hold them,” he was amazed, and rightfully so.
“So, you both have talents in martial arts?” Retta asks.
“Yeah, but I’ve never used a sword before,” Jason shrugs.
“Observe carefully,” Damian mutters. Tim and Jason catch onto his words and they turn their focus to the fight ahead of them.
~
2013
You walked downstairs one night, the moon was high in the sky and the stars just barely peeking out of Gotham’s smog. You had another nightmare, the same one you’ve been having for a while now. Your fear of being left alone because of the looming threat of death was one that you didn’t think would be going away any time soon. You walked into the kitchen, ready to pour yourself a glass of water.
“Hey, (Y/N),” Tim says behind you. You gasped in surprise, nearly dropping the glass while turning around. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” he says. There’s a mug in front of him, freshly poured and still cooling down.
“Is everything okay?” You pulled up a chair in front of him and he hesitated before answering.
“… No,” he looks into the mug in front of him. “I know I volunteered to become the next Robin but… training’s been harder than I thought it would be,” he shakes his head.
“That bad?” You rest your head on your hand. “Is Dick being too hard on you?”
“No, it’s not that, if anything Dick is the only one I’m actually learning from,” Tim shakes his head. “It’s just… it’s a lot,” he admits. You leaned forward on the table now.
“Well, for what it counts, I know next to nothing about fighting crime, so if you ever want to take a break, why not spend the day with me? I’m just a boring old civilian, but it’ll be nice to get some fresh air once in a while,” you offered.
“You’re not just a boring old civilian,” he shakes his head. “But… if you’re not doing anything tomorrow, maybe we can do something then?”
“Tomorrow?” You hummed. “Sure, let’s go do something after school,” you nodded. “I’ll tell dad so don’t worry about it, if he gets upset he’d have to go through me first,” you joked.
“Yes! I can’t wait!”
The next day, you and Tim were practically bouncing in your shoes waiting for the day to be over. Tim wondering what you had planned and you wondering how the day will go. This is the first time you’d have something of a younger sibling and you were so excited about it. You were excited to spend time with Tim the same way your older siblings spent time with you. It was a miracle that your dad agreed to let you take Tim out for the day, granted Dick did most of the talking, but you were thankful nonetheless. And, once the bell rang, it was nearly in the blink of an eye that both of you were outside.
“So, what are we doing today?” Tim asks.
“Hmm…” you pulled out two slips of paper and showed them to Tim, blank side up. “Choose one.”
“Any of them?”
“Yup, the one you choose is the one we’ll do today,” you nodded.
“Okay, well…” he looks between them both and selects the left one, “ice cream?”
“Ice cream it is,” you showed him the other paper which simply read ‘Arcade’ and you saw the way his eyes lit up, “this one is for the next time we hang out.”
“Next time?”
“Sure, even heroes need breaks,” you nudged him. “Anyway, there’s this hole-in-the-wall place I used to go to all the time, you’ll love it there, they have this cookie-butter flavor that is just so good,” you hummed.
“Cookie butter sounds good right now,” Tim follows at your heels.
“Hey, catch up! Don’t walk behind me like that,” you waited for him to join you at your side before continuing onward. “Look at those, Timmy,” you pointed into the shop window at the shoes. “I’ve been wanting that pair since forever,” you pointed at the one in the middle.
“Why don’t you just buy them then?” He asks you.
“Where’s the fun in that? My mom taught me from the get-go to earn things before getting them. Sure, her way was a bit…”
“Illegal?”
“Yeah, yeah,” you tilted your head to the side and nodded, “so I decided to combine both her and dad’s philosophies.”
“Beating people up?”
“No, no,” you shook your head quickly. “Work hard to make the prizes more worthwhile. It’s good for goal setting, and motivation, and it feels nice to finally reach a goal,” you pointed at the shoes. “I’m not going to buy those shoes until I graduate high school. No ifs, ands, or buts,” you announced. You and Tim walked into the ice cream parlor next to it and Tim slid into a booth. “How about you, Timmy? What’s your motivation?” Tim hums for a second.
“I want to do what’s right,” he says.
“You sure about that?” You asked him. He looks confused. “Think about it, Tim. I’m gonna get our ice cream.”
“But, that is my motivation.”
“That’s like premeds saying they want to save lives when asked why they wanted to go into medicine,” you explained.
“Well, you want to be a premed, why do you want to go into medicine?”
“Surgery, I want to specialize in that specifically because I like cutting things open,” you laughed and Tim’s face grew grim.
“Are you serious?!”
“Yeah, I mean, cutting things open with consent, duh, but see it’s small reasons that will help you drive your bigger one,” you say. “Anyway, what flavor do you want?”
“Chocolate, please.”
“Sounds good, think about it, Timmy, I’ll be right back.”
~
2022
“Talk about crowd,” Carter looks out from his spot. “When did we become zoo animals?” He nudges you.
“Who knows? It started out with the twins observing us, and now we have half the knighthood here,” you shrugged. “Poor Nix, though, he got the short end of the stick with swords.”
“He was never good at that subject,” you and Carter watched the sword slip out of Nixon’s hand and land stuck to the ground beneath. Alex, meanwhile, stops the blade right as it would’ve hit Nixon’s neck.
“Yield! I yield,” Nixon rose his hands and Alex put the sword away, offering his hand instead, which Nixon took with pride. “Good one, Lex,” he pulls Alex in and the two bump shoulders before separating. “Hey, stage’s all yours!” Nixon flags you both down.
“Yeah, yeah, take your time to walk that one off,” you fired back. Nixon rolled his eyes and followed Alex.
“Nixon, you have to pay more attention to your footing, I didn’t even have to worry about striking you since you were too busy tripping over yourself,” Alex says, “it’s amazing that you can wield an axe a foot taller than you.”
“Hey, come on, an axe is weighed totally differently than a sword,” Nixon shrugs. “Who’s up next anyway?”
“That would be us,” you raised your hand alongside Carter’s.
“Oh, now this I gotta see, you two don’t get paired up often,” Nixon grins. “My money’s on the Captain, of course,” he whispers to Alex.
“That all depends on what the random scenario is,” you shrugged. “If it’s anything other than swordsmanship or rifling, I’m screwed,” you sighed and followed Carter out, keeping your eyes glued to the screen to see the scenario. The words moved through the screen quickly in a wheel-like fashion until they settled on one phrase.
‘Hand-to-hand combat’
“Damn it all,” you cursed. Carter, meanwhile, stretched his arms across his chest. “You’re an expert at this one, Adara.”
“You would know,” he answers with a grin.
“Oh shut up,” you rolled your eyes, but your smile betrayed you. You grabbed the wraps from the table and secured them around your hands. “Go easy, maybe?”
“You’d hate me if I did,” Carter held his hand out and you shook it with a firm grasp.
“Good answer,” you separated and took a deep breath and, once the buzzer sounded, your first move was to block, of all things. Too preoccupied with what was going on in the stands, you were more focused on not getting knocked down.
“Hey, she kinda looks like (Y/N),” Jason whistles. Damian and Tim turn back to look at him, the latter’s jaw on the floor.
“You really are stupid, aren’t you?” Damian clicks his tongue.
“That is (Y/N)!” Tim gestures toward you with open hands and Jason whistles louder.
“Oh!” He leans back to get a wider view. “Oh,” his voice drops alongside his jaw. He shoots up and runs down the bleachers.
“Jason! Don’t do anything dumb!” Tim makes a move to follow, but Damian pulls him down.
“Shh!”
“He’s gonna blow our cover!”
“You’re both going to blow our cover if you make a scene,” Damian hisses. 
“(Y/N)!” Jason cupped his hands around his mouth and your head whipped to the side.
“Jason?!” Now it was your turn to be shocked.
“Twelve o’clock!” He shouts. You duck your head in time to dodge the jab.
“Distracted, cap?” Carter pulls his fists back and you hold your arms in a defensive stance while shaking the shock from your thoughts. You knew Carter well enough to know that he wasn’t going to let you off easy, and such was true when he landed a hit clean on your jaw. You stumbled back on slightly, pushing your mandible back in place.
“Good hit.”
“Not good enough apparently.” Carter was relentless, you knew he had a natural talent at this but goddammit you were about to get schooled in front of the newbies. You blocked another hit from him and ducked under his swing. You could only dodge him for so long, you’d have to fight back eventually, but he kept all of his weak points well-guarded, moving just enough every time to block you off. It was when he knocked the wind out of you, causing you to stumble back and land against the railing, then a small ray of hope appeared.
“Hey, kid,” Jason takes your shoulders and holds you steady, “come on, shake it off. When dealing with opponents twice your size, you gotta go for the spots they won’t think twice of. Looks like this guy doesn’t skip chest day, but if you look at his proportions, your best bet is to go for the legs and then you throw punches,” he instructs. You nodded your head shakily, your pride was getting in the way of your logic right now.
“Yeah, okay, why?” Was all you were able to get out.
“I’ll be damned if my little sister loses in a hand-to-hand fight, this is my bread and butter,” he hits his chest with his fist. “Now go fuck him up!” He pushes you forward and you roll your neck, the world stabilizing around you and your breathing steadying again.
“Okay, I’m back,” you hold your hands in front of you.
“Isn’t that cheating?” He nudges his head toward Jason.
“Please, he just wanted to say ‘hello,’” you shrugged and charged again. Go for the legs, that’s right, that was always Carter’s weak point, why didn’t you think of that before? Good on Jason for noticing it as soon as he looked at him too, just goes to show you still have a lot to learn. Color Carter surprised when you roundhoused him first, knocking him onto his back and grabbing him by the collar. “Yield.”
“Nah,” he grabs your arm and sweeps you off of your feet, you were airborne for a while before you felt yourself pinned to the ground. You broke free from his grasp and rolled to the side, regaining your footing quickly to move out of the way of another swing.
“Come on, (Y/N)!” Of course, Jason was always the loudest in the room. You adjusted steadied your stance and threw a jab just as you moved out of the way of Carter’s right hook.
“Who’s he, anyway?” Carter asks.
“Focus,” you duck behind him and sweep his legs again, this time Carter falls forward, but you grab the back of his shirt on time. “You always keep your back open,” you shook your head.
“Well, I usually have you to watch it,” he pushes up and pivots on his heel, once again grabbing your arm, but you took this as a chance to slam your knee into his abdomen, effectively knocking the wind out of him and pushing him to the side. You stretched your arms out again and, right as he recovered, you landed a hit clean against his jaw, knocking him onto the floor. You shook the stinging pain out of your hands while he raised his right one. “Yield,” he adjusts his jaw and you help him up.
“Goes to show I’m captain for a reason, right?” You pulled him close so you could whisper in his ear. “Why’d you let me win? I know you can pack a harder punch.”
“Half the knighthood’s watching, and that guy who said ‘hello’ is glaring daggers at me,” he nudges his head toward Jason. Jason. You let go of him and turn to your brother, nodding toward the side of the stage, and he catches your signal, going in that direction while you drop the wraps back in their place. “Where are you off to?”
“Investigation, watch over Eve’s and Alex’s spar for me,” you walked under the entrance and spotted Jason at the end. “Don’t get excited, he let me win,” you jutted your thumb behind you, but Jason still had a proud grin on his face.
“Does it matter? Look at you go, kiddo!” He clapped a hand against your back and you groaned. “Now… what the fuck was that?!” His shout was obvious and you squeezed your eyes shut.
“Look, Jay, a lot has changed since we last spoke, but more importantly, what the hell are you doing here? How? Are the others about to come pouring in?” You asked.
“Oh, actually, Tim’s here too.”
“Tim’s here too?!”
“Yeah, wanna say hi?”
“Jason, be serious, you shouldn’t be here, the three of you!”
“Well, duh, Tim and I came here to nab you and Damian and head back.”
“Head back? Do you even know how to head back?!”
“Sure,” Jason pulls out the wristwatch and you grab it, looking at the damaged insignia on the front. It was almost too scraped and worn through to be able to get a clear image, but the shape was a dead giveaway.
“How did you get this?”
“You left it behind?”
“Me? No, no, that’s impossible, I don’t use this model,” you said.
“Model? Wait, you have one of these?” Jason points at it in your hands.
“Yes, kind of, it’s complicated, Jay.”
“And you never came home?!” You stopped. You took a deep breath.
“… No,” you shook your head. You opened the watch. “Whatever you two did to this, it’s busted beyond repair. It can’t get you back now, and the models I use are under lock and key by the Crown,” you shut the watch with one hand and handed it back to Jason.
“And since Damian’s still here then you haven’t been able to get it, huh?”
“Without putting him at risk, no,” you crossed your arms and Jason mirrored your stance. “I’m not going back, Jay.”
“I’m not going to try to convince you,” he says while rubbing the back of his neck harshly. “Look, I know you have your reasons, and I’m not going to bang my head against a wall to understand them—”
“I thought you of all people would understand,” you interjected.
“What?”
“You didn’t come home either, did you?” You asked.
“That was different.”
“How so?” You stepped up. “We both died because of a mistake that father made and we both came back fundamentally changed from who we were before, how are we different?”
“Because you are you and I am me,” Jason points to you then to himself. “I… I can’t explain it other than that,” he shakes his head.
“Sister,” Damian approaches with Tim in tow.
“We’ll finish this conversation later,” you took the watch from Jason’s hand and held it up. “Look familiar, Damian?” You held it by the chain and the younger nodded. “Shit, this just got more complicated,” you muttered. You shoved it into your pocket as soon as you heard footsteps.
“Ayo, Cap!” Nixon waves his hand. “Ayo… everyone else,” he observes the group while the rest of the Brigade follow behind him. 
“Whoa, long time no see, Alex,” Jason waves.
“Hello, Jason,” Alex nods his head. “I don’t suppose daddy dearest will be next, will he?” Alex whispers toward you.
“Interesting to see a familiar face,” Tim was already making connections, you could see it in his expression.
“Shit… the Queen’s gonna kill me,” you slumped your shoulders and your eyes rolled toward the ceiling. “Would it be nepotism if I just tossed them in some honorary role?” You looked at Alex.
“Yes, very, but they’re too old to take the recruits’ test too,” Alex hums.
“It’s fine, there’s no need,” Tim cuts in. “We’ll be in and out, we’re just here to get Damian and (Y/N) and we’ll be on our way—”
“Whoa, whoa, what do you mean you’re here for the captain?” Carter subtly steps next to you now. “Sure, take the kid, we were looking for ways to send him back anyway, but you can’t take her.” He looks toward you and you sigh.
“What do you mean we can’t take her?” Tim frowns.
“Stop,” you held your hand out and the group fell into a tangible silence. “Look, we can’t have this conversation until we even find a way to send them back. We haven’t had access to our watches since we came back, and we can only use those with a direct Royal order, so until then, we’re going to have to find a way for you both to lie low, that’s why I inducted Damian into the Knighthood, it gave me a way to keep an eye on him while I researched the monster outbreaks,” you explain.
“There’s monsters here too?” Tim asks.
“Naturally,” you nodded. “Any of you have any ideas on how I handle my brothers?” You looked at your team.
“You are taking this surprisingly well,” Alex comments. You look at your watch.
“No time to freak out, I have to head down to the lab soon, there are developments with the daemon I need to check out,” you silenced your phone, “well? Anyone?”
“It’s a long shot, but…” Eve hums. “I know we have openings on our research team, we could probably fit them in there,” she says.
“I could do that,” Tim says. “Jason, though, I’m not too sure,” he looks at his brother, who crossed his arms.
“There is that way,” Alex speaks up but you shook your head.
“No way.”
“Well, it’s your best bet if you don’t want Jason around vials ten times older than he is,” Alex insists.
“What is it? I can handle it,” Jason nods.
“Mm… who would he fight though? He has to take someone’s place,” you mumbled.
“Or, if he fought someone with high authority and they were impressed with him that could work too,” Alex insists.
“Who has that authority?” You asked him.
“…” Alex didn’t answer.
“Oh,” your eyes widened slightly with the realization. “Okay, yeah,” you nodded. “Jason, repeat after me,” you looked at him and he nodded. “I, Jason Todd.”
“I, Jason Todd.”
“Challenge.”
“Challenge?”
“The Captain of the Brigade.”
“The Captain of the Brigade.”
“For a position on their team.”
“For a position on their… team?” Jason’s head tilts slightly.
“Sure, challenge accepted,” you took his hand and shook it.
“Wait… What?!” You pushed him toward the arena. “Hold on!”
“See you guys in a bit, I’ll explain everything after this, promise, meanwhile someone makes up an ID for him and Timmy,” you looked at your team and they nodded, heading toward the stands. “Jason, make it look realistic, yeah? Eyes everywhere.” You pushed him out of the entryway and Jason looked around the arena. He’d seen it from above, but to be in the center of it all was a whole new experience.
“Get a load of this! Someone challenged the Captain!” A voice shouted.
“Captain Wayne?! He doesn’t stand a chance!”
“Who is he anyway? Someone pull up his ID.”
“Not every day we see someone not in the Knighthood challenge, should be interesting.”
“What did you get me into?” Jason asks, looking around the now looming arena.
“Shh,” you pointed toward the screens. The phrases rolled in roulette until it settled: No scenario. “Well, that’s just luck.” Two tables rose on either side of you. “Take your pick, Jay. Whichever you choose I’ll go with too. If I’m impressed, I’ll induct you in, if not… well, we’ll deal with that after,” you shrugged and stood at the table, waiting for your opponent to make his choice. Jason, as predicted, picked up the pistols. “Don’t worry, there’s an enchantment on them, nothing here is deadly,” you told him, picking up your own pair of guns. “We’re sparring, not killing.”
“Sure, yeah,” he gives them a spin to test their weight, and, strangely enough, they felt perfect. “So what exactly are we doing?”
“Only way I can keep you two close by. Tim goes with research, you stick by me. I can’t have you running off punching people, Jay.”
“I can take care of myself.”
“Not here you can’t, god, you’re worse than Damian,” you readjusted your grip around the handles. “Think of it as a spar, you’ve done plenty of those.”
“This isn’t fair, though,” Jason stood at one end of the arena. “You’ve watched me since I started, you know all my moves.”
“Not true, there was a three-year gap, right? I would hope you learned something new.”
“Oho, you really are my sister if you’re making jokes about your death,” Jason held the pistol up. “I saw that fight too, let’s get caught up,” Jason takes the first shot and you move out of the way just in time, taking your own shot in response.
~
2015
“So, anyway,” Tim takes a bite of his cheeseburger while you drank your soda, “Conner did some crazy shit where he ripped the robot in two, it was insane!” Tim continued to tell his story but soon he caught himself.
“It’s okay, he’s still your best friend,” you urged him to continue.
“Still, though, I mean…” Tim crosses his arms.
“At least he did it the right way, he broke up with me first,” you shrugged. “And it’s good for you too! You don’t have to hear me talking about him anymore,” you nudged him playfully and continued eating. “Anyway, you were saying?”
“Oh, it’s nothing, sis,” he shakes his head. “Plus, I’m out here with you, why would I want to talk about work?” Tim groans. “How are you?”
“Oh, you know, the usual,” you hummed. “I’ve just sent out my applications. I’m looking into some different universities,” you pulled up the list on your phone. “I’m really looking at Metropolis or Central City, they have strong STEM programs that I’m interested in,” you said.
“Oh… what about Gotham U?” Tim asks. You look up from your phone and you don’t quite think you’ve seen that expression on him before.
“Of course, that’s my safe university, I’m pretty much guaranteed acceptance with my namesake alone,” you cleared your throat. “Is… is everything okay, Timmy?” You asked him. You couldn’t beat around the bush anymore. You’d noticed Tim being a bit more… resistant to certain things going on in the house. You leaving for college being one of them, you never noticed just how close you two were until now.
“Bruce… he doesn’t need me anymore, huh?” He says quietly.
“Oh, Tim, don’t say that,” you straightened your posture and you took a deep breath.
“And you… you have an actual younger brother now,” Tim says quietly.
“Hey, come on, blood doesn’t make the bond,” you say. “Plus, no one could ever replace you,” you continued. “I mean, not just anyone memorizes 200 digits of pi for fun.”
“Come on, that’s nothing!” Tim grumbles.
“Definitely something, Tim I cry tears of joy when problems tell me to just use pi instead of 3.14,” you laughed. “But, I’m serious, Tim, if anything you’re going to get promoted,” you grinned. Tim shoots you an uneasy smile.
“Yeah, I guess, I don’t know what exactly I’m so worried about,” he says. “I mean… well, I don’t know,” he stops and decides not to pursue it any further. “But, uh, Metropolis, huh? That’s a good school!”
“I know, just a little far now that I think about it,” you muttered. “Gotham’s program isn’t so bad either, I guess,” you hummed and took a quick glance at Tim, who already seemed a little happier.
“But, (Y/N), you don’t have to go there, you looked excited talking about those other two,” Tim catches your glance. “It’s just… they’re far,” he leans back against the booth. “We can’t be with you there, you know? You’d be on your own and you’re a Wayne and…”
“Hey, I can handle myself pretty well, I think,” you insisted. “I mean, I made it this far, right?”
“Because you had us!”
“Tim,” your voice dropped and you looked both ways, ensuring that no one was listening. “I get that I’m not as… extraordinary as you all, but I’m not helpless, I can take care of myself, I’ve been taking care of myself, and I know you mean well, but Tim you’ve gotta trust me a little,” you folded your hands in front of you. “I’m not as fragile as Dick likes to make me out to be.”
“That’s… that’s not what I meant,” Tim looked away and you sighed.
“I know, I know you just want me to be safe, all of us,” you crossed your arms. “But I can’t just live in fear. One thing being in this family teaches you is how to be careful,” you looked to the side. “And another thing it teaches you is that family is what you make it,” Tim looked at you now. “Dick and I aren’t blood-related, neither was Jason, and neither are you, but still I have never looked at any of you as anything other than my brothers. The same goes for Babs, Steph, and Cass, you’re all my family regardless of anything, and I will always put you all first. But, with that said, the same goes for Damian. He’s young, alone, and probably confused, we can’t alienate him just because of his background, if anything, that’s why we should accept him more. And you, Tim, I get it, you’re different from the first two, but that doesn’t make you any less than them, hell, I bet if Jason were here right now he’d say the same.”
“But…”
“No ‘buts, Tim, I mean it, you’re amazing!”
“Maybe… maybe I’ll take a page out of your book then, (Y/N), retire early,” he says. Your shoulders slumped.
“Whatever you want, little bro. And if you do, I’ll be here to help you out. And if not, I’ll still be here.”
“Even if you’re miles away?”
“You know, there’s this wonderful invention called cell phones.”
“Stop it! You know what I mean!”
“Yes! Yeah, of course, even if I’m partying it up in Central City, if you call me I’ll come running, I know you’d do the same.”
“Well, that goes without saying,” Tim crosses his arms now.
“So… the new team, huh? I’d love to meet them.”
“Oh, you are going to love them, (Y/N)!” Tim beams.
~
2022
You just narrowly dodged the bullet this time, had Jason already gotten a reading on you? Impossible. You had to switch up your tactics quickly or else you’d actually lose. Think, (Y/N), what was he going to do next? Jason, as much as a wildcard he is, you could read him easily. He had these kinds of wind-ups to certain moves, you noticed. Like now, that roll of his shoulder, he’s going in for a hook so now you had to think about where he’s aiming. If he ducks low enough it’s your abdomen, if he keeps his level then it’s your shoulder. Leave it to Jason to play dirty, he picked up the pistols only for them to be a red herring, but, then again, you should’ve expected this from him as soon as he holstered the damn things.
But you knew him as well as he knew you. You play by the rules, maybe a little too much, out of the box operations were more of Carter’s forte while you and Alex tried to stick to orders more. But, come to think of it, you’d always been this way. Always doing what you’re told and never standing up until you have to. Then here’s Jason, an absolute force of nature when he’s pissed and an unstoppable machine when he’s focused.
You dodged his punch and bounced back, creating some distance before aiming the pistol and taking three shots. One on his arm, the other on his leg, and the third missed its mark when it grazed his shoulder. On each impact the bullet dissipated, hitting him with enough force to push him back but hardly enough to leave more than a bruise. You switched hands and fired another round, this time the bullet grazed his cheek and Jason couldn’t stop the proud smirk that rose on his face.
You never really got why your siblings were so crazy about sparring. Sure, you got it from a training standpoint, but their obsession with it was on a new level. It was just a pass time for them and you’d just sip on a juicebox and wait for them to finish.
But you get it now.
It’s a whole different language, one that was perfected by the Waynes. Each attack was like a part of a conversation, let’s get caught up, you get what he meant now. Even your spars with the other members of the Brigade weren’t this entertaining, and everyone in the stands agreed. Usually, you’d hear roars of shouts but this time it was silent. Everyone was watching in tense observation, trying to see if Jason had what it takes to join the Brigade and, hell, he actually might.
“Come on, Jay, you picked up those pistols, use them,” you taunted. Jason shook his head and charged again, you barely moved out of the way this time. “You’re faster.”
“I do cardio with Steph.” You ducked under his swing.
“Wider shoulders too.” He grabbed your fist before you could hit him and you shook him off before he could toss you.
“Dick would kill me if I skipped chest day.” You held the pistol up but misfired.
“Thought he was more of a glutes guy.” Jason evades your attacks easily.
“You know that’s all genetics.” He shrugs and you take this chance to shoot at his foot, causing him to lose his balance temporarily.
“True.” It didn’t last long, Jason was up on his feet in seconds and you were planning your next attack.
“I’m starting to think you just use those things as a safety blanket,” you looked at either pistol and Jason rolled his eyes.
“You know one thing about you that hasn’t changed, kiddo?”
“What?”
“You still don’t look under you.”
“What?” You looked down and your breath stopped, seeing the array of bullet shells and spikes beneath you. “Now when did you get those?”
“Had them from the beginning, you just weren’t paying attention,” he shakes his head.
“Effectively, this would be a draw,” you looked around you, one misstep would be something of an unfortunate lego brick under your shoes. “Neither of us can move forward,” you explained.
“Oh yeah? Boring,” he shakes his head.
“This match is over,” you announced, stretching out your neck and, in seconds, all the weapons disappeared as if in a simulation and the cheering was deaf to you. “I like you, you’re not Brigade material, but I’ll find a place for you,” you held your hand out and he shook it.
“Sure, I look forward to it,” he says. 
“So, I have to ask, why didn’t you use them? Wanted to prove you didn’t need them?”
“You really think I would shoot you? Spar or not, I couldn’t do that,” he shakes his head. You stopped for a moment, but regained your senses before anyone could notice. “Now what?”
“I either get my ass kicked by the queen or we start your onboarding, should be quick, I’m putting you in one of the honorary squadrons,” you nodded. Jason followed you into the end of the arena. “What we talked about earlier? We discuss it to no one. Not Damian, not Tim, and no one on my team,” you said.
“What did we talk about again?” Jason caught your hint.
“Captain! Captain, we have a problem!” Marion was quick to meet you.
“What? What’s wrong?”
“That beast from a few months ago, the one that attacked the new recruits! It’s back! It’s in the courtyard right now! Aldryn’s moving the royal family to a safe house as we speak.”
“Shit,” you looked at Jason, then to Marion. “Take me there,” you pulled your phone out and held it to your ear. “All members of the Brigade report to the courtyard, we have another Daemon to take care of,” you held your hand over the speaker, “Mary how many of them are there?”
“We counted one so far, but if it’s anything like before…” She doesn’t finish her sentence.
“You take the recruits and go somewhere safe, we’ll call for help if we need it.” You ran off toward the courtyard and Marion looks at Jason.
“Who are you?” She asks.
“I’m with her,” Jason jogs after you. “What the hell is a Daemon, (Y/N)?!”
“We have monsters. This is a recent one that happens to decimate towns,” you explained, “why are you following me? Go somewhere far!”
“I wouldn’t even know where to go!” Jason defends. You both stop once you reach the outdoors and Jason swallows down his words. “That… is that it?”
“Whatever it is… that is not the one that attacked the recruits before,” you looked up. It was huge, bigger than anyone you had fought before. It towered over you easily while fresh blood dripped down its maw. It spots you and its ears straighten in alert while its eyes, empty white sockets, bored their way into you. Your eyes drifted to its neck and you could just barely make out the glint of metal that was hidden in its fur. You held your phone up again. “We need it alive.”
“Roger,” Nixon answered first.
“I’ll handle crowd control,” Alex says.
“I’m on my way now,” Eve was next.
“Can you handle it until we get there?” Carter.
“Sure… maybe.” The beast growled and, maybe you were just noticing it, but with every roar or grunt the skies seemed to get darker.
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alexa-fika · 4 months
Text
Killer Timeouts ( Kidd x sibling!Reader x Killer)
A/N Im determined to do at least one from all of this list of prompts, once again send love to @me-writes-prompts for delivering this,also let me point out idk how many of these we have done but none of them have been in an pffice so far 😂. Honestly I think it’s A COOK, is it a cook, a simmer or a lukewarm?
Also 💖 Anon, I see you and your request 🫦, exited for some Vinsmoke action
Prompt: "Can you stop and pay attention to what I'm saying for once?" "Oh, I didn't see you were here."
Divider’s by @/saradika
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“-And I really think we should not get down on the next island; there are a lot of marines there, so we should lay low until our….Kid!” They growled, frustrated that their brother had sat tinkering with his arm all the time they had been talking, most likely ignoring every word they had said
“Can you stop and pay attention to what im saying for once?!”
“Oh, I didn’t see you were here.”
“What the hell, Kid! I have been trying to tell you our plan for our next stop for the last fifteen minutes!”
“You talk a lot, you know that?”
“And you ignore a lot, you know that?”
“You’re boring.”
“Oh, I’m sorry, dear brother have my plans to keep us from being captured far too boring for you?”
“Your plans are always boring.”
“That’s because your ‘plans’ simply involve killing everyone on sight!”
“That’s why they are good plans.”
“You infuriating piece of crap! I should throw you overboard!” They growl, stomping their way only to be stopped by someone slipping their arms under their arms, wrapping them around their chest, holding them back from approaching their brother any further
“Killer, let me go; he needs a good beating!”
“I think you guys need some space.”
Killer’s voice rumbles calmly, holding Reader back from causing another fight between the siblings
“Is this what y’all do when I’m not around, fight?”
“I wouldn’t have to if that Emo-wannabe would just listen to me!”
“The hell did you say?!”
“You heard me!”
“You’re both so stubborn; both the same.” Killer sighs
“No, we’re not!” They both scream angrily, glaring at the masked man
Killer rolls his eyes
“Off we go, Reader; lets go somewhere else and take some time to calm down.”
“Ugh!”
Killer walks out of the room, dragging the reader by the back of their shirt, ignoring them as they suddenly start fighting against his grasp as Kid cackles, flipping them the bird
“C’mon,” he said, dragging them away
“Just one punch, Killer!”
"No," Killer replies calmly
"You two can't act responsibly, so I'm keeping you separated.Sit," he says, pointing to the stairs leading to the ship's wheel.
“But-
"Sit." Killer repeats, cutting off their protests
“You’re in time out for the next hour.”
“An hour?! An I just sitting here for an ho- wait, the hell you mean timeout?!”
"Yes, you two are acting like children, so I'm treating you like children." Killer replies
“Come on!”
"Sit, or im making you stay in the ship for the next island," Killer repeats, pointing towards the stairs
“But im the strategist!”
“Okay, then you’re on guard duty on our next stop then, you’ll be in cleaning duty while you stay on the ship.”
“You can’t assign me those roles!”
“Want to try me?”
“No..” they mutter, pouting, knowing the masked man would find a way to get their stubborn ass to do those tasks; he had been dealing with the siblings' antics for years, so he had become an expert in handling them, and their little bouts
“Then sit down,” Killer replies, knowing he holds the upper.
Their pout deepens as they plant themselves on the ground
“Can I at least get my notebook and planning sheets?” they whine, only to turn into a groan as the blond man quickly chucks the items, chuckling as Reader simply glares at him
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Yall I think Grammarly change one pf the readers to The reader so if you see it let me know, I couldn’t see it when I was editing so maybe it’s not there but hey if you see it
Taglist:
@imaginarydreams
@amethystviolin
@h0n3y-l3m0n05
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satansdarlin · 1 year
Text
Pandoras box (Tsu'tey x reader)
chapter (1) (2) (3)
warnings for this chapter- cursing and a light bit of ooc for tsu"tey and death threats
word count- 3K
you are an artist who came to draw and record the flora and animals on pandora after your sister gets sick you are taken under the wing of the next chief of the omaticaya tribe.
this series is hopefully the beginning of many more when more movies come out. the reader is actually my own oc just with a name change. i haven't sene the second movie yet but I am very excited to see it with my boyfriend. no beta-read we die like men but did a Grammarly run through.
When the ship landed on Pandora I walked alongside a man I met on the ship, Jake. He was an ex-marine and was here to replace his brother who had been murdered by a man with a gun. I was no fighter or scientist like the others here, I was an artist. My sister was a scientist here and she had gotten into an accident that had put her out of commission since my DNA matched hers just enough they pulled me in to use her avatar, a pretty similar story to Jake except well Paige was still alive. The number of armed men and women around me was astounding and intimidating but my eyes were drawn to the huge arrows that were jammed into the wheels of a wheel loader that passed in front of us. The colors were unique with yellows and blues, an interesting combination. Jake and I were guided into the building where we were ushered to the safety meeting and after that ushered to different areas. So I found myself in Paige’s room she was hooked up to all kinds of machines that were helping her stay alive and she had deep circles under her eyes. 
"You look like shit" I spoke aloud as a threw my backpack onto a chair. She snorted at me before wincing in pain.
"No shit. I feel like shit." She wheezed out to me, I walked to her side and placed a hand on hers. "Listen, kid pandora is a beautiful place but it's still dangerous when you get out there you listen to grace okay? I know you aren't ready for this but they need you to help with this mission. Your drawing skills are going to take you deep into the forest to find plants and animals. You are going to be their eyes you've got to prove that the life out there is worth something to these corporate assholes okay?" 
I nodded in the affirmative, eyeing my sister with concern. A nurse came in and said I was needed in the science bay to test my avatar. Grace was eyeing me up and down, she had not talked to me as severely as she had Jake but it was clear I wasn't what she wanted. 
"An artist and an ex-marine when I need two scientists who studied for years to be here. Just great." She growled as she helped us get hooked up into our coffins like machines. "Just listen to the smart people and maybe I can keep you alive. Just clear your mind and relax got it, Picasso?"
I gulped and nodded again, grace was intimidating. The lid shut, sealing me in darkness with a light blue hue around me, I steady my breathing as I stared up trying to keep myself from panicking. My eyes fluttered shut as I took deep breaths which smoothed out almost like I was falling asleep. I jolted awake. I could hear more, smell more, feel more. The scientists above me spoke as they were checking my reactions and smiling at me as I became responsive. 
"Morning guys" my voice was like I hadn't spoken in days. A racket started to come from Jake's table I turned my head to see Jake ripping off the wires attached to his avatar body. "Jake? Hey, you should probably sit back- you can walk!" I looked in amazement at his legs and smiled at him. The scientist were getting things to sedate him but he was already out the door, norm and I were forced to catch up with him. Norm was shouting about us not supposed to be running but u couldn't help it. The colors around me were so much more vibrant and seemed to almost pulse with beauty to me. The smells around me were new and alluring I found myself running alongside Jake as we skidded to a stop in the garden. I admired the purple fruit growing from the vines.
"Hey, Picasso and marine. Good to see you are up and functioning well. Your motor function seems at the tip-top." Grace's voice came from her gorgeous avatar, I smiled at her. 
"Everything is amazing grace" I spoke with a gleeful tone. She nodded at me in agreement as she tossed Jake a fruit that he caught and began to eat. 
"Come on let's go eat." She tossed me a large sketching pad with some pencils. "Your sister said you'd need one of those." 
And the first night in my avatar body went over without a hitch. Soon after a morning of relaxing, we got our first mission. Norm and grace needed samples, Jake was there to guard, and I was there to sketch out and flora I found. I sat in my avatar body looking out of the chopper as we were in flight my pack full of my art supplies and some rations if I got hungry. Jake rested a hand on my shoulder 
"Nervous?" He had to speak loudly due to the noise. I nodded a bit 
"A little" I looked at him the placement of his white freckles were pretty to me. "You nervous marine?" I teased him a bit and he huffed at me. 
"Not at all" He shook his head as I laughed at him. I looked at my sketchpad and tore out a piece of paper handing it to him. 
"Here I drew it on my first night here. You are a good muse when you aren't looking." The paper had a charcoal drawing of Jake in his avatar form chatting with others at dinner.  He looked amazed as he looked over it 
"Damn you've got a real knack for this stuff huh?" He folded up the paper and put it in his pocket. "Thanks for the keepsake Picasso" 
We landed on the ground and grace lead us deep into the jungle. Once she and norm found their spot, I began to wander a bit looking for interesting flora which I found. It was shaped like a lily pad with more layers spiraling upwards. I crouched down and began to sketch it out as Jake looking bored found me sketching it up. He touched one of the plants only for it to shoot closed. He let out a surprised chuckle and I gasped in surprise before giggling setting my sketchbook in my bag as we touched more watching the shoot closed with a goofy sound. Jake touched one and it caused a domino effect to happen closing all the rest and showing us a creature, which looked like a cross between a rhinoceros and a hammerhead shark. The creature let out a bellow and stomped its foot towards us, as Jake took aim grace spoke up from the tree line. 
"No Jake don't shoot it, its skin is too tough for the bullets to pierce you'll just piss him off" She was watching with a worried look plastered on her face. 
"Well, what the fuck do I do then?" Jake whispered aggressively at her as his tail pushed me behind him. 
"Just stand your ground. Don't run or he will charge" 
The creature took more stomps towards us letting out another warning noise which Jake hissed back at placing an arm across me to protect me almost. The creature whimpered and suddenly ran off to its mother and Jake let out a slurry of curses at it but my ears picked up on something, a low growl. I slowly turned around to see a jaguar-type creature and let out a gasp hitting Jake's arm to make him realize. 
"Grace stand our ground or run?" I spoke loudly as I kept my eyes trained on the creature. 
"Definitely run!" She shouted at us and Jake took no hesitation in lifting me up and throwing me over his shoulder as he ran. The creature gave chase. Jake ducked under the roots before finally, the creature ended up snagging his bag, sending us to the ground. I rolled further from him. Jake uncapped his pack from around him and slipped out of the straps as he grabbed my hand and began draining behind him as we ran, jumping over the edge into a waterfall. Somehow his hand let go of mine and I traveled further downstream. My head bonked a rock at the bottom of the river and it all went black. 
When I came too I had been drug out of the water and it was nightfall. My pack was off of me and so was my knife. I sputtered up water as I coughed it all up out of my lungs. I looked around and my eyes fell on a strong na'vi man pulling my art supplies from my bag as his people stood around him except for the one that had a spear pointed at me though he seemed hesitant as I looked over my clothes I noticed jellyfish like seeds had landed all over me with a white glow surrounding them. The man looked over shocked before it turned to frustration as he growled something out in his native tongue. 
"Get up" He spoke gruffly as he shoved my pack to me. "Up!" He snapped again and I quickly got to my feet. 
"You speak English?" I asked in my daze and this made him more annoyed as he snapped something in his language again before he lifted my weak body onto the back of his horse as climbed on himself. I fell asleep again as he held me secure to his horse. I woke up as he threw me to the ground 
"Get up" He snarled at me as two of his guards grabbed my arms as I yelped. They drug me along through a gigantic tree where I saw Jake also being held by two other guards. 
"Jake!" I whisper shouted at him and he smiled seeing me 
"Good to see you still kicking." A woman stood before him and the man who grabbed me stood before me both looking disgruntled. The leaders came down from the spiral speaking in their languages before the woman circled us and tasted our blood. She came to the same conclusion both times it seemed. 
"What do they call you" She spoke aloud so everyone would hear. 
"Uh (y/n) (l/n)" I answered her question. She smirked a bit 
"Well (y/n) why should we keep you and jakesully alive? What is your purpose?" 
"I am an artist, I'm not a scientist or warrior like Jake. I am simply here to appreciate the beauty of your home and to try to get the Sky people to understand your home is beautiful and should not be harmed. My tribe is broken all that is left is my sister and me. Please I'm all my sister has left."
She nodded a bit at my story and gave Jake time to give his speech which all the na'vi seemed to enjoy except for the two in front of us. 
"Very well. Tsu'tey you will train the girl in the ways of our people as you found her and Neytiri will take Jake and do the same"
They both pitched a fit but knew it was already spoken. Tsu'tey eyed me before grabbing my arm and dragging me up the spiral to an area of hammocks. 
"Tomorrow you learn. Tonight we rest" He jumped into a hammock and touched the side of it and it closed around him. I slowly entered mine with a lot more fear and did the same and slowly sleep consumed me. And I awoke to Norm lightly slapping my face saying my name over and over again 
"She's back with us!" He shouted over to grace as she pulled Jake from his station. Norm eyed me as he helped me up "where were you?" 
"Their home" 
The next day was full of people looking at Jake and me. We had achieved what many of them could only hope to do so on a miracle. Paige was proud and also a little annoyed at my lack of self-preservation. Paige made me practice the names of the na'vi royalty. 
"Tsu'tey is the one who is training me. He's pretty rough but I think we can work out" 
I spoke to grace, norm was glaring at Jake they had been arguing. Norm was upset that jake with no training or knowledge was the one to get in good with the clan princess. Grace helped me into my pod and gave me a nod 
"Be careful Picasso. Tsu'tey could loose his temper on you and that would screw everything up" and she shut the lid before giving me a moment to speak. 
My eyes shut and I drifted back to my avatar body. I jolted up and Tsu'tey seemed annoyed that he had to wait. 
"Today we practice your riding skills." He stood up and began to walk away giving me yet again no time to talk. 
"Wait up!" I quickly clamored out of the hammocks. Tsu'tey whipped around, teeth bared at me. 
"No. You will do things quickly otherwise you will die and if you die my job is over." I put my hands up defensively as he snarled at me towering over me. 
"Okay okay. I understand I'll keep up" He nodded a bit grunting at me before turning around and continuing on his path. 
Eventually, grace moved us up to the floating mountains to continue our work in peace. Working with Tsu'tey was hard, Jake often said he seemed to run me harder than Neytiri ran him but I could see the change I'm myself. I had toned up, the soles of my feet were stronger and I could run faster and longer. I could shoot a clean kill but mostly I could see how proud Tsu'tey became. At first, he hated me just like he hated Jake then it turned into simple distrust and now we had a good friendship if I had to say. He still hated Jake though not much I could do to fix that. 
As I pulled the bowstring back with my arrow lined up I released a breath before letting go of it piercing my prey I quickly hopped down to finish the job whispering the prayer to my fallen prey as I stabbed it cleanly. Tsu'tey watched silently 
"Good. A good clean kill tomorrow you shall participate in Tsaheylu" He grabbed my bicep giving it a gentle squeeze of approval which made me smile at him, I saw the faintest glimpse of a smile on his cheeks before it disappeared. I walked alongside him now no longer at his back, he would hiss or growl at me before but now he welcomed it. 
"You know tsu' I think you might be warming up to me" I teased him lightly flicking his tail with my own. He scowled at me.
"Do not call me that" He huffed at me before turning his gaze back to the path. 
"You didn't deny it" I spoke with a smile and a hand pushed me to the side as he let out a "psh" noise. 
"You are annoying. Like a bug" as I was about to defend myself he continued "but you are fast and sharp like poison. You are like Kali'weya" 
I was touched by his words And bumped him with my shoulder. 
"Don't get soft on me now Tsu'tey" I teased lightly as we walked side by side back to hometree. 
"You are gonna be participating in tsaheylu tomorrow. You need to be prepared, lucky for you kid, that your sister wrote the book about tsaheylu. I suggest giving her a call" Grace spoke up as I was eating my food and I gave her a nod. I had met Tsu'tey's banshee. They were a gorgeous blue color with yellow eyes. They were rather gentle with me which seemed to surprise Tsu'tey. 
I clicked the button on the screen as my sister answered my call she gave me a weak smile to me. 
"Hey, squirt. I heard you are about to get a new friend. Let's talk" Paige explained the details of tsaheylu to me in depth to the point where my nerves were amplified but by excitement as well. As I followed Tsu'tey up the floating mountains I didn't look down once until I had to jump from one to a vine which I did rather poorly making Jake snort before he failed worse than me. The cave was beautiful. Jake and Neytiri went first and then Tsu'tey and myself followed with his other students behind us. 
We watched Jake try and find his banshee but I was watching Tsu'tey a smirk was plastered on his face as he watched Jake fail. "He is going to die trying this" he muttered to his students making them giggle his eyes caught on me as and looked at him with a glare before turning back to Jake 
"Come on soldier you can do better than that can't you!?" Jake flipped me off as he made the bond and began his flight. I was next I stepped down from the rock and grabbed my rope, walking forward the banshee hissed and would fly away til I found her. She was lavender with golden markings and grey eyes she hissed at me which was a hiss I returned she bared her teeth before trying to take a bite out of my leg which I narrowly avoided. I hopped on her back locking my legs around her snout and keeping it shut as I struggled her to the ground as Tsu'tey trained me for. She thrashed under me until I connected my braid to her neural link on the back of her head. The feeling of linking with another creature was hard to explain every time it was amazing though. 
"Fly Kali'weya. It completes the bond you must fly" Tsu'tey shouted to me from the rock and I did just that. Gliding through the air I found I was able to control her rather well and so I named her, Ome. The team took flight together once we all had our banshee as Jake and Neytiri played. I could see Tsu'teys approval in the gaze he gave me. Tsu'tey and I began to fly together from then on.
.
.
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Part two
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b4rbi3l4nd · 1 year
Text
SOS — i can't see it
NEW CHAPTER IS UPPP, again, I will never stop thanking y'all for all the support on the last chapters, y'all's comments make me so happy pls 😭 anyway, hope y'all like this chapter!! and i apologize in advance for what goes down in this chapter, also if this feels rushed, i apologize i was getting my hair done and i wanted to finish this chapter and put it out today, more was gonna go down but anyway. i also changed the age so y/n was 20 when she found out she was pregnant but she's 24 now and Shuri is 25, had to do it based on the MCU timeline lol, MB, also for some reason I cringed a lot writing the last scene bc the WORDS was just so unholy but ANYWAY ENJOY
𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐋
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GIF by mandalor-din
series summary: you broke up with shuri a few years ago and left wakanda for good until namor. now that he's killed the queen and multiple wakandan civilians, he's seen as a great threat and as former second in command at shuri's lab and wakanda's loyal warrior it is your duty to return and fight for your country. but a certain somebody makes the mission way too hard to deal with.
episode summary: a hasty decision you don't agree with and an uncomfortable realization leads to you and shuri having to talk things out. one thing leads to another and the next thing you know, you wake up in her bed. awkward
genre: ANGST, slow, slow, slow burn, smut
pairing: shuri x black fem reader
episode warnings: mature dialogue, suggestive dialogue, suggestive scenes, smut, cursing, trauma, shouting, mentions of death, suicide, missing people etc. this is a series. you are currently looking at the fourth chapter of the series, please go to my profile to read the previous chapters before continuing (if you haven't read the other chapters yet, if so, please continue)
taglist: @yvxmpire, @sweetalittleselfish-honey, @xxmilli, @queenofsimpsblog, @ziayamikaelson, @shuriislut, @atssukoo, @widowmakker, @cuddl3s4shur1, @n7cje, @ts1mp0ne, @locoforshuri
proofread?: no but if there are errors then it's grammarly's fault.
word count: girl idfk
inspirations: 'SOS' — SZA
song: 'Blind' — SZA
send your thoughts and requests
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You sit in front of the throne room, your legs crossed as you nervously moved your legs up and down, trying to listen in on what the elders and Shuri were deciding on doing about the baby.
"I say we get rid of her and the baby." An elder proposed. "We don't need another repeat of Killmonger."
"Exactly." Another elder agreed. "And we don't even know is this baby is of royal blood."
"Not only that but this baby will be the grandchild of Namor. If someone like him has access to Wakanda? We've good for."
"This is an innocent baby you all are talking about." Shuri interjected, looking between the elders. "They haven't even been born yet, and you're looking to them as a threat."
"I say we let her have the baby and then once it's born we kill Malia and raise the child as our own." Elders added.
"We can't just kill her off like that.." Shuri muttered. "Eventually the child will grow up wondering what happened to their mom and then...killmonger all over again."
"So what do you suggest we do my queen?"
Shuri took a deep sigh, her fingers resting on her chin as she looked around the room.
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The doors to the throne room opened up as Shuri walked out, you immediately stood up, walking next to her.
"Hey, what are you all going to do in there?" Shuri looked at you and then back forward.
"We've come to an agreement of what we're going to do to the baby. If it's not mine then, she'll be sent back to country."
"And if it is?"
You didn't even give her a chance to respond as your eyes opened wide. "Wait what? Send her back to her country? Are you crazy?"
You guys turned a corner as she just ignored your words.
"If it is mine, then she'll be sent back to her country, after 9 months, the baby will return here to be raised in Wakanda."
"Why are we sending her back to her country? Are you trying to get us all killed?!" You whisper shouted at Shuri who sighed deeply.
She pushed open the door to the infirmary to see the doctor standing there, Malia laying down on one of the beds and Okoye and your mother standing next to the wall, shaking their heads.
"Well? How far along is she?" Shuri asked, glancing between her ex and the doctor.
The woman whispered as she spoke. "8 weeks my queen."
You bit the inside of your lips. Fuck, that means she was pregnant when you hit her. Are you serious?
You looked down, you knew what they were going to ask next, if the baby was Shuri's or not. And they can find that out. You know that because an elder of your tribe had it forcefully done on you when he suspected you of engaging in sexual activities with the princess.
When Shuri found out of course, he was executed.
"Well, is it of royal blood?" Shuri asked.
The doctor showed some papers as she answered "The blood came out a bit clotty and the tests were hard to run because of this but so far, yes. It is your child, my queen."
You let out a shaky breath you didn't know you had in you as images of Shuri and Malia filled your head. You puffed up your cheeks and looked down and turned around. "God."
Shuri also sighed deeply and pressed her temples.
"What are we going to do my queen?" Okoye asked as Shuri thought for a moment.
"Keep her locked up for now. She'll eventually be sent back to her country. After 9 months, the baby will be brought back to be raised in Wakanda. Yeah.."
"Are you serious?!" You turned around to Shuri, furious as ever. You deeply cared about your country and she was a horrible decisions maker.
"She goes back to her country, okay, what happens next? Namor is enraged that she's pregnant with your baby and he knows all the key entrances to Wakanda. We're doomed, dead. Gone." You add to it.
"Well we know what they're planning, so we'll be ready for him?"
"Really? Ready for him like how you were all 'ready' for those last 2 attacks? HM?! Why don't you just kill her and the God-forsaken baby."
"Y/N, that's inhumane. I can't just kill her and an innocent baby...especially since she was my girlfriend for almost 4 years.." Shuri added.
"OH BUT YOU CAN LOCK UP THE ONE YOU KNEW FOREVER?!" You raise your voice at her sharply. Your eyes had turned dull and the only thing behind them was fury. You were seeing red, you felt like you were going to kill Shuri and Malia herself.
"Don't think you're out of the clear because of this whole Malia thing because you're not." Shuri snaps at you. She didn't even raise her voice this time but it felt like she did. She walks past you, leaving the infirmary as Okoye follows her.
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You smile over to another person at the lab before turning back to your dehydration device. You were working on one of the heaters to try and distract your mind.
The whole Malia and Shuri situation had your head spinning in multiple different directions.
The guy you were working with at the lab was currently engaging with you in conversation and his voice kept getting drained out by your thoughts.
"I'm sorry, what were you saying?" You look at him and he smiles warmly at you, repeating everything. "Oh yeah, you're right...this goes here..." You fix some stuff on the heaters before you hear a voice speak above you.
"Y/N, can I talk to you alone please?"
You look up to see Shuri staring down at you sternly and you gulp silently before nodding, wiping your hands on your white suit. You were too distracted with your thoughts to change.
She walked down the stairs and out of the lab as you followed. In the hallway, she pull you to a corner but her grip was less strong than you thought.
"Look.." She started as you looked up to her. She was staring at the ground nervously and you raise an eyebrow.
"What, you sending me back to Nigeria?" You ask and she slowly shakes her head.
"No..um, Okoye said some things to me earlier that really stuck with me and I feel like I owe you an apology." She looks directly in your eyes after the last bit, her stare now more genuine and sympathetic.
Your posture straightened as you folded your arms. "I'm listening." What an interesting change in direction.
"Ever since you got here, I haven't been..myself and I know that now because...because.."
"Because?"
"Because I'm still in love with you Y/N."
Your eyes widened at this revelation and you blinked multiple times. "What?"
"I know yeah, it's inappropriate and I shouldn't be feeling this way but I can't help it and I expressed that in the worst way possible and genuinely, I'm sorry."
"Shuri I-"
"We don't have to talk if you're uncomfortable."
"No, no." You interjected. "I'm just surprised is all." You weren't expecting that and if you're honest, you are also still in love with her, no matter how many times you guys argued or you cursed at her, you've just been through too much together.
"I...I'm still in love with you too and..there's no running away from it. I'm a grown-ass woman...we're grown-ass women, I mean you're 25, I'm 24...we've got a lot of growing up to do." You finish.
"You've got a lot of growing up to do." Shuri said.
You rolled your eyes. "Don't start with me now Shuri."
A small laugh came from her as you looked up to see her chuckling. A smile formed on your lips as you laughed along with her.
"I missed this.." She said, looking at you with genuine eyes. Those beautiful eyes that once held hatred behind them looked at you with love, reminding you of how you used to wake up with her every morning.
"Shuri.."
"You know, you would make a great queen if you weren't so stubborn." She said sarcastically.
"I would make a great queen because I'm so stubborn." You corrected her.
"Ah-" She started.
"If- If that was what I wanted.." You backtracked on your statement, putting your hands out. A few moments of silence went by before she spoke out.
"I...don't want to fight with you anymore Y/N." She voiced out, a small frown appearing on her face. "And I'm not asking you to date me or anything I just..." She paused and sighed. "You came here under work circumstances and it was unfair for me to treat you inappropriately so, let's just keep it professional for the rest of your stay or we could be.."
"Friends?" You asked, raising your hand for a handshake.
"Yeah, I'd like that."
Your hands locked together and she shook your hand, causing you both to smile.
Finally, peace at last.
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It's been 2 weeks since you and Shuri made up and frankly, you've never loved being around her more. You were starting to see the more innocent and playful side of her that you loved being around. You 2 were always joking in the lab and you especially loved it when you and Riri joined forces just to bully her.
It was peace in Wakanda and the only thing stressful was the fact that Talokan could attack any minute now, which is why Shuri was taking out the whole staff to celebrate that night.
No guards, no work, just fun and dancing and that's exactly what you were doing.
Riri helped you get ready for tonight, she said you needed to get your "hoe" on. Not sure why, but whatever.
She had you wear RED lingerie because
"Red is the sexiest color duh," Riri said, shoving the savage x fenty set in your face.
And a bodycon black top that was slightly see-through, paired up with a leather skirt.
"Only on the cleavage and sleeve parts, I'll let you have your dignity."
Not that the top even had to be see-through for everyone to know what your cleavage looked like anyway.
"It's kinda your brand now, own it."
Matching black pumps and red lipstick.
"You're like the only person I know that fits red lipstick. Here, I'll do it. Not too much lipstick, only on the bottom, don't forget to blend in the liner and a bit darker on the top lip and ooo, gloss. Just a little bit tho, it works on you though right?"
Bold eyeshadow.
"We want them panties dropping TONIGHT!"
And for your hair, natural but with your edges done, of course.
"Your natural hair already looks like a Brazillian blow out so, not too much."
And a black purse with gold, to match.
"Okay, we're done and wow you look hot."
"I always do, let's be for real here." You say as you both laugh in your bedroom.
Currently, you were grinding with that same guy you were working with in the lab earlier. He had his hands on your waist as you guys moved in sync to the music.
Once it ended, you excused yourself from the dance floor, catching Shuri sitting down next to the bar with her shades on.
"Hey.." You wave at her, sitting a few seats away. You're not sure if she heard you but she gave you a slight not. You couldn't exactly tell if she was looking you because her shades made it hard to tell but you nodded right back.
You were planning to let lose tonight. "Can I get a bacardi please?" You signal to the waiter and they nod. You watch as they pour your drink before you smile and take it.
You down it like a shot, before placing it down on the table, feeling the burn as it slithered down your throat.
"Phew...I'm gonna go back over there." You were talking to Shuri but you figured she couldn't really care, she opened her mouth to speak but shut it just as quick.
"Okay.." You stand up and walk back over to the dance floor, feeling a bit nervous but relaxed soon enough thanks to Riri.
You guys hands interlocked as you both danced to the music. Eventually, as you pulled away, you felt 2 hands on your hips again and they felt way too familiar, like they've been around there before.
You figure it was the guy from before and you let it be, dancing along with them but your face dropped when you looked up to see Riri staring at you, eyes wide open, mouth hanging out.
Okay, it definitely was not the guy from before. You look over to her, raising an eyebrow as your eyes signal a "What?"
She mouthed with her hands desperately swiping over her throat. "The queen."
Horrified, you turned around to see Shuri looking down at you, her shades were gone and you could see nothing in her eyes but pure lust and arousal. And that she was definitely like half sober.
You don't say anything, your body unconsciously grinding against her. Her head lowered to your neck as you let out a shaky breath when her lips connected to your sweet spot. The spot that she just loved to tease.
"Shuri.." you muttered out, starting to get lost in the feel of it.
You were brought back to reality when a cold liquid hit your top. You look away to see Riri in front of both of you.
"Sorry. I guess I spilled, you might want to go to the bathroom to get things cleaned up." She signaled with her tone and her eyes.
"Oh yeah..sorry." You turned to Shuri who had stopped and broke through her grip. You walked over to the bathroom, your mind racing.
You let out a deep sigh as you entered. It was currently empty, which was great. You grabbed some towels as you started to wipe down your dress, your thoughts replaced with what would've happened if Riri never spilled her drink on you.
"Need help?"
You were pulled from your thoughts when you heard the door open, Shuri's voice along with it.
She walked behind you, taking the tissue from your hands as she wrapped on arm around your waist, the other helping you to wipe your dress.
As time went on, it felt more like her grazing your breasts than her helping you clean up. Eventually, she grabbed a handful of one of your boobs and you let out a soft and unexpected moan.
You immediately covered your mouth, embarrassed as she chuckled behind you. She let go momentarily, giving you a chance to leave but you didn't.
In fact, you did the opposite. It was clear that your body wanted her, craved her. That you craved her. You leaned into her and you watched as she smirked through the bathroom mirror.
She slipped her hand through your skirt, grazing over your pussy. You let out a small moan as she began massaging circles, applying pressure. You bit your lip as you threw your head back on her shoulder.
She took the chance to capture your lips with hers and you watch it all happen through the mirror but then she stopped and pulled apart.
"I think we should go somewhere more private."
Now that she had already given you a taste of pleasure, you couldn't stop yourself, you wanted more. You needed more.
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warning: it's getting hot in hereee
As you entered her apartment, you looked around. Everything was still in contact from when you lived with her. The painting you made for your anniversary, still up on the wall.
You felt Shuri's arms wrap around your waist as she kissed you again, slowly and more passionately this time.
"Tonight, baby i want you."
She whispers between the kiss as you feel her hands taking off your clothes. You kicked off your heels as well, helping her out.
You guys walked backward, lips still locked together and hands roaming each other's bodies. She gently pushed you back on the bed till you were laying on the bed then she pulled apart and stood, looking at you up and down.
"Fuck..." She muttered under her breath as her hands reached down to touch your body.
"I love when you wear that sthandwa(my love).." Her lips connected to your neck as she slowly kissed all around it.
One of her hands wrapping around your neck as she turned your head, finding your sweet spot again, sucking on it now, hard but passionately.
"Mmm.." you moaned out as you felt a puddle forming in between your legs.
She didn't stop until the spot was dark purple before she pulled back, looking at your breasts.
"I missed these so much usana(baby)" Her hands grazed over your nipples, making them hard. She lifted you up slightly to unclip your bra before laying you back down again.
Her hands grazed over your nipples as she slowly took off your bra. Her lips connected to one of them, causing you to bite your lip, holding back an unGodly moan.
She sucked on them until they felt numb before she turned her attention to the other one.
She was being so mean, taking her time with everything and you knew she knew that you were craving her.
"Shuri..." you breath out as she looks up at you, humming in response.
"I need you to touch me.."
"I am touching you," She replied, lifting her head up as her panther chain dangled in your face. You hooked your finger around it to pull her face closer.
"You know what I mean, I want you to touch me..there.."
You take her hand and slide it down and around your curves until she reaches your pussy. She pressed her hand on it, earning a moan from you. Wow, she barely touched you and you were already cumming. You really needed her, huh?
"Fuck, I love when you get vocal entle.(beautiful)" She groaned as you wrapped your arm around her neck to pull her closer and kiss her.
She rubbed circles on you, lowering her hand before you felt her slip your panties to the side.
"OH-!"
You were caught by surprise when you felt her finger suddenly just slip in your wet folds. She found your clit without even looking because of course would...this was like coming home to her, she's been here before.
"Hm...? It's just one baby, you can take more than that right?" Shuri teased as you sighed.
"It just got me by surprise, that's all.." You muttered out, feeling her pump in and out of you.
Another finger slipped in, causing your hips to buck unconsciously towards her, earning for more friction.
"I think you're slowly killing me here.." You throw your head back, rocking your hips along to her rhythm.
Shuri chuckled as she kept to her pace before adding another finger suddenly, causing you to moan out suddenly.
Her pace slowed down as she used her free hand to hoist your hips over her shoulders. Once you were secure, she fastened causing your hips to jerk upwards.
You didn't even get a chance to moan out because that's when Shuri suddenly stopped and then she started hitting again but this time with more intensity and she was hitting your spot every time.
The spot that made you twist and turn like a worm. That made your toes curl up and look like it was doing gang signs. That turned you into a dumb babbling mess, that she just called you.
"OH SHURI, SHURI, YES, YES, YES!" You moaned out in pleasure as your vision turned white.
"That's it baby...keep going." Shuri groaned in your ear as she quickened her pace, you held onto her arm, feeling her restraint.
She was holding back but it still felt like you were getting hit with the force of a thousand bricks. She was strong most definitely.
She wrapped a hand around your throat, squeezing tightly and it felt like she was breaking your windpipe but you loved it. Filthy.
It felt like she hated you so much with the amount of force she was using and it felt amazing, euphoric even.
Your hips jerked again as you squeezed your eyes shut.
"SHURI!" You screamed out her name as she moaned even louder than you when she felt you clench around her fingers.
"That's it beautiful, ride it out...just like that.." She kept thrusting in you but she slowed down, letting you get down from your high.
You thought it was over, you were starting to sit up when you felt her take a long lick of your pussy, making you squirm but she held you in place.
She released her grip on your throat and you were sure her handprint was going to be there tomorrow.
"Oh my..." you breathed out, your back arching upwards as she took more slow, long licks.
"Shuri please...." You moved your pussy along her mouth, rubbing circles as you moaned. She pushed her fingers that were just in you, into your mouth.
"Suck." She instructed and you did just that.
"Mmm..." She looked down at you with hooded eyes before taking her fingers out of your mouth. Both her hands gripped your thighs as she held you in place.
You closed your eyes as her lips made contact with your folds. She licked them slowly, sticking her tongue in places you didn't even realize existed. She had you seeing stars, especially since you were already sensitive from your last orgasm. But she didn't care.
Your thoughts scrambled and fuzzed as you felt her tongue enter deep into you and then back out before going in and out again.
"Shuri you're so...soo...meannn.." Your words slurred together as you tried to gather yourself.
"Really? I like to think I'm being generous tonight."
And she was true, on a daily basis, she did way worse, she was a completely different person when turned on, it was crazy, a whole 360 change.
Eventually, your breathing started to get hasty and rushed as your whole body felt numb.
You looked down to see Shuri staring right back up at you as she feasted on you and your juices. The eye contact you made was intense and hot. You looked over to the mirror next to your bedside and the sight was enough to get you squirming.
"Oh Shuri, yes...just like that baby, just like that.." You put your hands on her head, forcing her to go with your rhythm. You rubbed your clit against her face, the friction becoming unbearable, especially when she wouldn't stop doing that with her tongue. Deep and fast strokes, it was driving you crazy.
"OH MY SHURI, BAST, OH GODDD!" You felt her slip another finger into you and as soon as she did that, she slipped 2 more.
The pleasure was enough to drive you crazy and it did. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head, your body gave out as you collapsed and screamed out her name.
"SHURI, FUCK"
Your breathing was ragged as you tried to catch your breath, your hand over you chest as you watched her clean up every drop of your release with her tongue. You looked back up at the ceiling as you felt her leave from between your legs.
After finally getting a hold of yourself, you look up to see Shuri walking out from her closet, naked and, 2 black boxes in her hands. She looked at you tilting her head.
"Pick one."
"There's more?" You breathed out as Shuri laughed. You've already been overstimulated, cumming twice already. Frankly, you haven't had sex in 4 years, there's only so much your body can take now.
"You're cute...pick one." Shuri instructed again.
You laid back in the bed, lazily pointing to her right hand. You watched as she opened the box, setting the other one down as she pulled out a double-sided dildo, powered by vibranium of course. It was a personal project she made just for you. It transmits energy and pleasure between the 2 users so you both can get off.
It still looked clean and fresh so could tell she hadn't used it in a while.
You turned your attention over to her body, her tattoos, the way her hair was slightly wet from sweat, her posture, her everything. She was just so attractive. You forced your head to look back up at the ceiling, taking a deep sigh.
Shuri walked over to you on the bed as she just looked down at you.
"You look so beautiful like this you know..laid out on our bed, waiting for me.." She whispered, causing butterflies in your stomach and vagina. Crazy.
She took the dildo and inserted the tip slowly into you but then stopped, moving it in and out slowly, making a circle shape as your hips slowly followed the pattern, causing you to moan out slightly, your eyes fluttering.
"You like that huh baby?" She breathed out before stopping sharply. "Look at me."
"I can't, even if I want to Shuri...I can't see, I'm blind." You say and it was true, your vision was currently fuzzy as hell and this normally happened whenever you and Shuri slept together, she just had a way of touching you that made you lose all your senses.
Shuri smirked before shoving the whole dildo into you, causing you to scream so loud, you swear a glass must've shattered or something.
"AGH! SHURI! SHIT!"
She silenced you with a kiss as she brought the dildo back out again, rubbing your clit with her fingers gently and passionately.
She used her hands to put your thighs on her shoulders before inserting the dildo into you slowly this time as she rubbed in circles.
She then inserted her side into herself causing her to moan through the kiss, allowing your tongue to slip through and wrap itself in hers.
The room filled with the noises of both your moans and your skin slapping against each other. She was just hitting your spot again with just so much force and the fact that you knew she was holding back from going harder made your mind swirl.
Your toes curled, your breaths struggled, your hands gripping all over and onto the sheets, your hips bucking and moving with her pace, and your vision was currently gone.
"Mmm, baby..." Shuri moaned into the kiss as she kept thrusting. You could hear her panting and struggling to keep her pace and composure.
"SHURI! MM!" You shouted as you held tightly onto her arms and thighs.
Her pace started to become uneven as she threw her head back getting lost in the pleasure.
"Just like that baby...just...like..fuck.." She struggled before she finally pushed you to the edge.
You screamed out her name again as your back arched so high, you could kiss the ceiling. She fell into you, pulling out the dildo but still pushing up against you.
You felt her cum hit your walls as you sighed. You guys stayed in that position before she finally pulled away, using her finger to push some cum back into you, filling you up.
You fell on the bed, lifeless, breathless and visionless. The rest of the night consisted of Shuri running a bath for you and giving you a massage while saying praises to you, as well as her changing the sheets and slipping on one of her shirts on you.
You had your legs wrapped around her waist, her hands fixed on your waist, one of them, moving up, squeezing your breast and then going up to cup your face as she kissed you passionately.
You willingly opened up your mouth as her tongue slipped in. You moaned into the kiss. This felt amazing, like coming home. Her warmth that you had missed for years.
She eventually pulled away before laying you down on the bed, kissing your cheek sweetly. She grabbed a bonnet from her nightstand and put it on your head. You remember this bonnet, you used to wear it all the time back when you guys were still together..and she kept it.
She eventually got in the bed with you, slipping the covers onto both of you guys, her arm wrapping around you as you sighed.
She held you close, like if she let go, you'd disappear.
"I love you so...so much baby...my beautiful girl.." She whispered sweet nothings into your ear as she rocked you to sleep.
Fuck, I am going to regret this tomorrow.
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Text
Bright Like The Moon: Chapter 1
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Chapter 1: I Know This Much Is True
Rating: M for Mature, 18+, Minors DNI
Fandom: Night Hunter
Pairing: Walter Marshall x Black!OFC 
Word count: 4K+
Series Summary: Walter Marshall has urges, dominant urges to be in control of everything. Sexually and otherwise. Being a detective and father of a teen daughter doesn’t afford him those luxuries. Kamaria Mansfield left a long-term relationship where things turned toxic. She was hospitalized with extreme PTSD as a result. As a newly-hired intern with Minnesota PD, she hopes long hours will keep her mind occupied and hold pessimistic thoughts at bay. Takes place post-film.
Series warnings: past toxic D/s relationship, PTSD, therapy sessions, sassy therapist giving less than professional advice at times, unprotected p in v (wrap it up y’all), mentions of psychiatric hospitals, angst, fluff, mutual pining
Chapter Summary: The meeting of Walter and Kamaria, however brief, is enough to ignite a flame.
Chapter warnings: Therapy session, mention of past eating disorder, blink and you’ll miss it fluff, mention of fat shaming, angst, masturbation, mutual pining
A/N: Bless Grammarly for acting as my beta for this chapter. (Currently looking for a beta, if you have time and patience.) This is quite a long first chapter but I wanted to give Kamaria and Walter an even playing field to start with.
Dividers: @firefly-graphics
Support/Reblog banner by me
Story Art by me
Cross-posted on AO3
Series Masterlist
My Masterlist
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“I think you are going to be an excellent fit here, Ms. Mansfield. How about you come in bright and early Monday morning and we get you situated with a desk and show you around?” The hiring manager stood up, fixing his blazer before putting a hand out to shake.
“That sounds perfect, Mr. Lind. I look forward to it,” Kamaria took the offered hand and flashed a grin before being shown out of the building. She nods her thanks, turning to walk down the steps of the police station, her long butterfly locks swaying over her shoulder.
‘These steps are decrepit as hell,’ No sooner did that thought occur when her toe catches on a crack and she starts to tumble forward only to be caught by two very strong arms. 
“Oh my gosh, thank you so much, I need to pay attention to where I-” She stops in her tracks, moving her locks out of her face and looking up to see who caught her in the nick of time. Concerned yet gentle cornflower blue eyes stare back at her, his mocha-colored curls dance in the wind and mesmerize her just long enough to catch her breath.
“I’ve told them these steps are a lawsuit waiting to happen. Are you alright, Miss?” That accent and the timbre of his voice set Kamaria on a journey that settles on surprise. If her espresso skin could blush visibly, it would be all over.
“I’m good now. I got the job and not even an almost sprained ankle can take me out of the clouds today,” Kamaria looks away from his face finally and looks back to the building before looking back at the man. “You work here too?”
“Yeah, you could say that. Detective Walter Marshall,” Walter switches his coffee from his right hand to his left and reaches out to shake hers. He pauses for a second too long, but she barely notices when his thumb grazes the back of her hand slowly.
“Nice to meet you, Detective. Intern, Kamaria Mansfield,” She giggles at her little joke. “Anyways, I have got to be off but it was nice meeting you, and thank you again for saving my life.” She touches his strong arm, giving it a quick squeeze, and walks around him down the last couple of steps onto the sidewalk. She doesn’t notice the way he turns around to watch her walk away to the station parking lot.
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Kamaria has just enough time to return home and change clothes to make it to her therapy session on time. She sits in the waiting room fiddling with her fingers, noting that she has to get to the nail salon before work on Monday so her manicure will be flawless. Self-care is very important to her and it makes her feel a bit dainty as well.
‘Dainty is not a word I would use to describe you,’ The words of her ex burn through her mind. She closes her eyes and pictures floating through the clouds at night illuminated by the moon. She is just reaching it as the door opens to her right and her attention is being moved elsewhere.
Her therapist steps through the door and greets her with a wave. “Kamaria, right on time as usual. Come on in, honey.” 
Kamaria gets up from her chair and grabs her bag and coat then enters the office. She closes the door behind her and sits on the big fluffy purple couch opposite where her therapist sits with her trademark notebook. 
“So, don’t keep me in suspense. How did the second interview go today?” Yada can see the smile forming on Kamaria’s face as she situates herself on the couch.
“Well, I got the job!” Kamaria bounces a little in her seat, excitement about the fresh start all over her face.
“Oh, that is so wonderful. You deserve it, girl. I don’t even have to ask if you are excited, you are lighting up this entire room with that smile,” Yada makes a quick note in her notebook before turning her attention back to Kamaria.
“Now, as sensational as this news is. I do want us to get back to the grander topic at hand,” Yada clears her throat and begins to speak again, “Last week, we talked about your fresh starts. New apartment, a new car, and a new job. But there is one thing you seem to have a hard and fast answer to. No new relationships. And trust me, I understand why. You have been through so much, but you have also overcome so much. And I want you to explain to me again why you feel as though remaining at arm’s length with everyone is the best option for you.”
Kamaria was dreading this conversation at the end of her last session, but she knew that it would come up again, just not so soon.
“I will be completely honest. My trust in people has been tested to within an inch of its life. After everything that happened with Christopher and that mess with Britnee, I don’t have a lot to go on with people. I can be kind and courteous with people around me. But for them to be able to know me, they have got to assure me that my trust isn’t going to be treated like some easy thing to gain and maintain with barely anything in return. I need someone on my side who is going to want to know me for me and someone who is willing to take things at my pace.” She bites her lip, a nervous habit, trying to find the words.
“And for them to take things at your pace, you would need to allow them in to know certain things about your past relationships,” Yada says, nodding her head.
“Allowing someone in back then was easy. I was young and I was able to pick myself up after every scrape. Now, though? It seems like every little bump in the road is a hurdle that I am crawling on my hands and knees to get over,” Kamaria looks to the ceiling and the floor and everywhere but Yada.
“Do you still hear Christopher’s voice at all? I remember you saying you can still hear his snide comments when you’re anxious. Does it happen at other specific times?” Yada tries to keep the conversation going.
“A year. It’s been a year since I was in the hospital. Even longer since I’ve seen…him,” she pauses as her mind races, “I still can’t look at myself in the eyes in the mirror for more than ten seconds without hearing him call me fat or ugly or stupid. When I’m down, I feel like he’s on repeat. When I try and sleep, it’s him all over again reminding me that I can’t fit any of my old clothes. Clothes, mind you, that only fit me when I was anorexic because he forced his portion control on me,” She can feel herself getting angry and closes her eyes, takes a deep breath, and lets it out slowly. “I refused to pay attention to his voice when I heard it during my interview, which is something, I guess.”
“That is more than something, that is amazing,” Yada tilts her head and tries to get Kamaria’s attention. “So, I take it restful sleep is still evading you?”
Kamaria nods, not looking up from a spot on the carpet. It is the one spot she tends to use as a focal point when making eye contact is too difficult. She thinks it would be better to find a new spot because Yada is very used to seeing her gravitate toward that specific area where heavy foot traffic has affected the carpeting.
“Kamaria, I want you to look at me and listen well when I say this.” Yada clears her throat a little too loud.
Kamaria looks up at Yada, tears unshed in her eyes, teeth worrying her bottom lip.
“You are doing swimmingly right now, whether or not you have anyone in your life to share it with. But don’t you think confiding in another person who wasn’t getting paid to listen to you would, I don’t know, be fulfilling in its own right?” Yada asks, with a gentle smile.
Kamaria thinks about it for a second before answering. “I mean, my insurance pays so it’s not like-”
“You know exactly what I mean, so don’t even play with me.” Yada wipes the smile off her face and makes a note in her notebook again.
“Ok, ok! I know what you mean. Someone who I can talk to about the little stuff and the big stuff would be nice. A friend would be nice,” She suddenly is very interested in her hands.
“I think now would be a good time to discuss your homework for next week.” Yada gets up and sits at her desk, waking the screen on her computer, and brings up the schedule for next week.
“I figured my homework would be to have a good first week at work.” Kamaria slyly says, rolling her eyes.
“Yeah, nice try,” Yada nips that one right in the bud. “Your homework next week is to make a friend. I want you to connect with someone at work. I don’t care if it’s your manager or your coworker at the next desk over. Hell, I don’t even care if it’s the mailman. I want you to let someone in. Let them know something more than your name and your position. Give them something to go on, and make them want to get to know you. You don’t need to give them your phone number or your address. But, lending someone an ear on a rough day can go a long way. And something tells me being in a police station all day is gonna have your ears ringing by the end of Monday, so keep that in mind for the others around you.” Yada adjusts herself in her chair and tilts her head to let Kamaria know she is not trying to upset her.
“So my homework is to make a friend?” Kamaria asks, thinking she couldn’t have heard that right.
“Yes, my dear. Your homework is ‘Make a Friend’. And you can do this. You are very charismatic when you wanna be. If you don’t shut people down so quickly, I’m sure you’ll find people who want to get to know you. It’s not like you need to tell the first person you see that you are in therapy for PTSD and that you have trust issues,” Yada turns her attention back to her laptop, before quipping, “You could always save that tidbit for the second person.”
“Yada, you are a mess,” Kamaria giggles despite herself. “So, if I just let someone in a little, then I complete my homework?”
“I don’t like how you said ‘a little’, knowing just how little you tend to let people in. But, yes. Just give them something. Something they wouldn’t find out from your personnel file. How’s that for specificity?” Yada winks at Kamaria over her computer screen.
Kamaria takes a deep breath and exhales dramatically. “Well, that is about as specific as I suspected you would be if I’m honest. Kinda surprised you don’t have a worksheet for this.” She smiles at the thought.
“I can make one if you just give me a second.” Yada holds up a finger at that.
“No, Yada, that was a joke. Puh-lease don’t make a worksheet on me making friends as an adult. This is already halfway to depressing.” She is already overwhelmed and she hasn’t even stepped foot in the office as an employee yet.
“Ok. I won’t make one. Yet. Don’t test me, though. You know I’m a woman on a mission with a template and a little bit of time,” Yada raises an eyebrow when Kamaria tries to roll her eyes at that. “It would be in your inbox so fast, it would make your head spin.” 
“From experience, I know that’s true.” Kamaria thinks of the worksheets currently unfinished in her email.
“So, we’ve got your homework set up. And I have your work schedule. So we will be meeting virtually during your lunch break on Friday and see how everything is going and then we will move on from there if that time continues to work for you, ok?” Yada saves the appointment time and comes around the desk to sit back down in her armchair.
“That sounds wonderful, gives me the whole week to give you the hot gossip floating around the office.” And hopefully, I will have a friend by the end of the week…
“Save the hot goss, just give me the deets on who intrigues you and feel free to keep those eyes and ears open for the singles too. No need to jump down their throats, just watch out for jealousy and pettiness.” Yada crosses her legs and turns a wide smile toward Kamaria. “Even though I wouldn’t recommend an office romance, a little office nooky wouldn’t be terrible for you, girl.”
“Wow. That is highly unprofessional but I will remember you want me to get laid.” Kamaria is once again glad she can hide her blush.
“Might be a little unprofessional, but still, you’d be surprised how good an orgasm could be to the soul when it’s someone else giving it to you. Arrangements aren’t exactly frowned upon when certain people have issues with maintaining relationships.”
“Arrangements? Are you trying to be polite about fuck buddies?”
“Call it what you want, just know you don’t have to be alone all the time. Sometimes, all you need is a soft shoulder to lean on and a strong back to realign you and yours.” Yada giggles at her own words and soon Kamaria joins in.
“I swear, this is not how I thought this therapy session would end, but I can’t hate. This is a good way to end it, I think.” Kamaria smiles genuinely.
“I agree. I will see you next week, don’t forget to pace yourself and have a lovely week.” Yada gets up to walk Kamaria to the door before shutting it behind her softly.
That woman doesn’t need to be that intense all the time, but if she wasn’t I’d be a lot quieter and she knows it, Kamaria thinks to herself as she walks down to the parking lot to get back in her car and head to her quiet apartment. She listens to the radio on the way home and thinks of the cute detective that ‘saved her life’. At least, that’s something to look forward to on Monday, seeing his smile again.
After getting some Thai takeout, she makes it home, leaving her shoes at the door. She eats while watching some old Kitchen Nightmares episode on tv. After dinner, she cleans her dishes and the kitchen and then the living room before everything is back in its place and the world seems orderly again.
She retires to the bedroom, sitting on the edge of her bed. Her eyes focus on her favorite painting on the wall, a replica of Salvador Dali’s La Persistencia de la Memoria. Memory is truly persistent. Thoughts of her time with her ex flood her senses and her mind is reeling. 
What if I have an episode while at work? What if everyone finds out I was a failed submissive and my Dom, the one that was supposed to love and protect me, hurt me worse than anyone ever has? What if…
This is the spiral she was hoping to avoid earlier in the day. It seems to have found her now, in the safety of her own home. She turns and grabs her favorite stuffed animal, Beary Allen, named after The Flash. She holds him in her hands while counting backward from 10. With each number, she lets go of a negative thought until she is back to 1.
1…her loneliness.
That loneliness drives her urge to make a friend. Yada wouldn’t like to think about what that loneliness could make her do to make a friend, possibly. But she can’t think about what more Yada might be upset about. 
She needs to do what makes her comfortable and what will keep her safe. She places Beary back on the bed and opens the drawer of her nightstand to take her melatonin. Taking off her clothes and leaving just her shirt and panties, she lays back in bed. She’s been tense on and off all day long from the interview to therapy to…Walter. 
A ruggedly handsome bear of a man. Strong arms ready to catch her like a breath she didn’t know she needed to take. She liked that feeling. That feeling of safety, however fleeting it was. That little flutter moved from the top of her head down to her toes before radiating through her most intimate of places. Usually, she would ignore this arousal until it was too much and she would abuse herself most lovingly. But at this moment, her urges demanded to be sated forthwith.
She moves her hand from the bed to her panties. Lightly rubbing her nether lips over the silken fabric, she pushes in finding her swollen button. Her light moan escaping startles her for a moment before giving in to relax again. Moving her panties to the side, she lets a finger gather her sweet nectar and circles her nub. Her thoughts move to Walter and how he would guide her through her relief. 
He might tell her to use all her force on a clitoral orgasm. Or he might even assist with his fingers and tongue, taking her care personally. She imagines his thick digits inside her heat while two of hers slide inside, the other hand focusing on her tumescent clit. She finds that bundle of nerves inside her core and massages it all but gently, her eyes screwed shut and she imagines calloused fingers and a slippery, soft tongue laving on her. 
It doesn’t take long before she feels the flames ignite within her, eyes open and aglow with surprise as Walter’s name falls from her mouth. She waits until the flutter of her inner walls ceases, then slowly removes her fingers. She moves to her bathroom to pee and wipe away the remnants of her needfulness. Washing her hands, she avoids looking in the mirror for fear of what her eyes may convey to her.
She crawls back into bed and cuddles Beary, turning off the lamp. Melatonin already working through her system, she turns to her side, smiling at how that was the first orgasm she has been able to achieve in weeks. Earlier attempts were thwarted by time, patience, or worse yet, her psyche not allowing her to feel worthy of peacefulness. 
She can’t afford to think whether she would be worthy of Walter’s touch. That would be too much. He’s probably married, just my luck.
For now, she would just bask in the chance to see him again on Monday morning. That will be enough.
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Walter spends most of the day in and out of the interrogation room and his office. His latest case is a pain in his ass, but at least the day is almost over. Closer to the weekend and closer to Monday morning to see Kamaria again. 
Those few moments with her weren’t enough. He could tell her smile didn’t reach her eyes and he wanted to know why. He wanted to know more about her. Whatever she was willing to give to him, he would embrace.
He could still feel how soft her hands felt, he could still see the look in her eyes when he caught her before she fell. That tiny moment of vulnerability had his heart racing. She felt so small and so in need of his help that his protective instincts were moving him before he could even think to move.
At the end of the day, he leaves his office while grabbing his belongings. As he enters the doorway, Rachel walks up to stop him.
“Hey, I was hoping to catch you to see if you wanted to grab a drink?” A hopeful smile graces her face.
“I’m knackered. I will be lucky if I manage to shower before passing out.” He steps around her, offering a sincere smile.
She steps closer so only he can hear her. “Look, I know we didn’t exactly leave things in a positive light, but I think if we could just talk some things out, we could-”
Walter stops her dead in her tracks and puts a hand on her shoulder, leaning down to make himself appear smaller and less intimidating. “There is nothing to talk out, Rachel. I told you what I wanted. You told me you couldn’t give it to me. From this moment on, we are nothing but colleagues. Maybe one day we can be friends but not until you realize that being around you is hard for me right now. Only time will help that. I’m going to go home. You should too.”
She moves her shoulder and his hand falls. “And I told you, I do what I want when I want. You will never get to tell me what you think I should do again.” She practically snarls at him, all but running back down the hall.
It was true. Rachel was not submissive. If anything, she was just as dominant as he was. And, if he wanted that, that would be perfect. Rachel was nice, attractive, and intelligent. But, as it was, he wanted a true submissive. Someone who would look to him for guidance. Someone he could take care of and dote on.
His mind returns to Kamaria to rid his thoughts of Rachel and her sour attitude as he walks to his truck. His thoughts scream of her amber eyes looking up at him in surprise and her lovely hair cascading back over her shoulders. How he would love to sweep her hair behind her ear to make her smile at him once again. 
As he turns the key into the ignition, the radio comes on playing ‘Beggin’ by Maneskin. He tries not to let his mind wander too much on the idea of Kamaria begging on her knees in front of himself, but even a strong man knows when his mind is winning out over everything else.
He makes it back to his home, barely pausing after putting the key in the lock and unlocking the door, closing it behind himself. He kicks off his boots by the door and peels off layer after layer on the way to the en suite shower. He turns on the water, allowing it to get to the right temperature while he stretches his back and feels a few knots untangle.
He steps into the spray and lets the water cascade over his hairy chest before turning around and tipping his head back to quickly wash his hair. He grabs his body wash and starts to lather all over but makes the mistake of lingering too long over his cock. It wakes to his touch and his thoughts go back to how small Kamaria felt in his arms.
As he fists himself, he thinks of how he describes her as small. She has wide hips, a deliciously juicy ass, and a hefty bosom. He wonders if she knows the effect she has on him. If she even gave him a second thought after she left him gobsmacked on the steps. He ponders if she always smells of fresh fruit or if that was just a scent she picked out for the day. Something peachy or perhaps apricot?
He imagines her supple lips wrapped around his cock and soon he’s breathing heavily and spilling over his fist as Kamaria’s name stumbles out his mouth. The water starts to run cold as he watches the evidence of his ministrations slide down the drain. He exits the shower and towels himself off before walking back to his bedroom to what will probably be another night of fitful sleep. At least the orgasm helped him relax a bit.
He pulls the covers down after pulling on a pair of clean boxer briefs and practically falls into bed as his mind settles on that sweet smile and the way her hips swayed just for him, at least that’s what he decides to believe.
Until that nagging little voice in his head tells him that she would never be interested in him or his desires. She probably has a boyfriend anyway, he thinks to himself while tossing and turning in bed all night long.
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A/N: Thank you for reading and please comment with your thoughts on this chapter, and do be kind, it is my first time writing in over two years.
Chapter 2
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here-is-kia · 2 months
Text
I haven’t been writing for a while, I feel terrible about it. Since now I have always used my laptop and used Grammarly before uploading here. Right now it is 5:43 am, in the middle of Ramadan, school is closed because of it. I need to study, I know, but I can’t bring myself to do it. It takes too much of my time, and my efforts fucking always goes unnoticed. Expected, I know. My laptop is fucking broken and useless now, I can barely use it. Day by day I am losing my sanity because of it. I have no will whatsoever. I begged to die yesterday, crying and shivering. Pathetic. Couldn’t even stop. I wish my parents would see me as a human instead of a puppet who should just focus on their studies. They want the good for me, but what’s the point if every single word they make me want to crawl out of my skin? Staying with them for over three minutes is painful. I want to be myself. To be free. I can understand and see my mother’s thoughts, I can feel them. Like a hand is holding a vein between my heart and neck. It’s not fair. How my father treats my younger sister, how my mother is different to her. Few days ago, well actually two days ago- Me and my sister cried in each other’s arms complaining about life. She is fucking 9. Nine. She says life is too hard, how she thought pain is fictional. She saw a childhood video of mine, and it shocked her how different i had become. Trauma can change you, some people have it harder, you may not remember and intellectualise your past. My mother has a lot of opinions, and I know the existence of it. Just because she ‘loves’ me doesn’t mean I feel loved by her, she oversees my screams, and tears. I am genuinely disgusted by her. If I were a mother, I vow I wouldn’t be like her. She thinks she is the best in the whole world, she ‘thinks’ she lets us do whatever we want. She simply doesn’t ‘parent’ us. She never will. And my father is… ugh. Saying anything about him brings tears to my eyes, it fact there are tears in my eyes right now. He cares, but I did wish if he just left me fucking Alone. I want my own life. I fucking hate my parents. I am being ungrateful and don’t fucking care anymore. They simply don’t fucking understand how fucking hard it is to get these grades. How can ALL of your three kids be suicidal? One is 9, another is fucking 7 and tried to kill hi self with a knife. I don’t even know if they are blind or are just ignoring everything. Mother likes to hide from father. I hate her. I hate it when I tell her my grades and she doesn’t tell father, father thought I hide my grades from him. I didn’t correct him. It hurts. I have my ambitions and all, please just give me a fucking break. From all your fucking expectations and opinions. I hate my mother. I tell her I love her every now and then, I am simply lying. I joke around and shit, but I can’t stand it anymore. I am a Muslim, a mighty believer too. I can’t run away when I get older, no matter how much I want to. Maybe I can, hopefully. Though death seems more easy, still begging your God to take away your life but still let you go to heaven is like begging your teacher to let you leave the exam hall and still let you pass. When will I be free? When? Never? I want freedom, I hate my mother’s thoughts and opinions, I can fucking feel them. It makes me want to crawl out of my skin. She thinks she is the best mother there is, yet all she does she buy endlessly for her little dolls and argue how I have tons of clothes. She hates me, I am too ugly for her. I know. I hope she— no I don’t even want her to know about the pain she had caused us. She is too stubborn and would cry like a child. It’s sadly really, to be trapped your whole life. I can never be alone, I hate them. I hate taking the blame always. It’s not like my father is the capable man he thinks he is. I want to die.
Actually you know what? I don’t want to be away from a family, I want to spend time with a family, I want to joke around with a family(I mean I am already a laughing subject no matter how amazing my grades and weight are.) I just can’t stand this one. I am far too disgusted by them. Far, far too disgusted. In Ramadan, your Naf is still with you, maybe this is who I actually am. A pathetic emotional child. A worthless being. What benefit would my parents get from my successful future, that I do not know. I think they want me to succeed so they can feel like they accomplished something. I can never be my own person. I hate them. Even if parents have their own problems, their children still shouldn’t all be fucking in love with death.
Here, death is not a fear but a privilege. The children envies people who experience death. They want to physically(my sister said to me that day) harm themselves for attention. Please, you are fucking busy but you are a parent. They aren’t parenting, they are slacking off, giving us the basic human needs then taking a break. I was never enough, will never be. I am worthless, and if my fucking mother says ‘Oh Sweetie no! Who told you that!?’ In her honeyed voice, I will kill her. I probably won’t— but it will still be my breaking point js—
Freedom, heaven, today I saw a comment on a reel on Instagram, saying the prophet said life is a prison to the believers and paradise to the non-believers. It is kind of like a sign, of course life is not a paradise to everyone. I am doubting the authenticity of the translation. The last sentence doesn’t sound correct, it certainly is not from the Quran. It says ‘prison’ not hell, so I don’t think the is actually ‘paradise’. I did like how it said ‘prison’ though, a sign hopefully. It just gives you that shed of hope every delusional teenager with trauma likes to cling into.
-6:39 including time taken for tags :P
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stopthatfool · 8 months
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3, 77 :333
YAAAAA FENTOMY ILYYY
77. Do you have a favourite scene you've written from Your jeep. Your teeth. The coffee that you bought me.?
omg ummmmmm... i think it's this scene from chapter 3 about Mav's mom (whom I made up, she is not 'canon') idk i was just really proud of like.. the imagery? i think that's the word. I was also proud of how much this short scene tells you about Flo Mitchell as a character and as Mav's mom.
Pete had watched as his mother parked haphazardly, crooked, and partially on the dead grass on their front lawn. He watched her fling open the car door and slam it shut, clearly on some mission toward the front door. The flag next to the door hung static and still, like a dead animal strung up on a line waiting to be slashed and skinned, waiting to be picked apart and eaten, waiting for its entire life to come full circle and rot in some hunters stomach, waiting for its own bones to be thrown out and picked apart by the maggots. The flag hung dead, unsentient, while Pete’s mother– she was anything but. She walked up to the flag, shoes clacking on the cracked pavement, her arms swaying at her sides. She unhooked the flag from its stand, her hair billowing in the sudden wind. It turned alive as soon as she touched it, flowy and slippery, squirming and wriggling through her fingers. Flo balled up her fists in the fabric to stop the movement, the life that erupted from it transferring from her to the flag. As she walked back to the car, the flag slithered and moved with the waves created by Flo Mitchell. Then Pete watched as she opened the back door and threw the flag into the back seat. It lay there, dead and unmoving once again, sprawled out against the leather, the stripes overlapping and the stars crumpled and muddled. Flo picked up Pete from the passenger seat and cradled him against her side as they walked up to their new house. Pete yawned, “Why did you do that–? To the flag?” His mother only steered her head forward, eyes serious and focused, “That flag keeps your daddy away from me– from us–” She looked up to the setting sun, the sky all orange and yellow, “Why should I fly the thing that keeps him away– that puts him in danger?”
Flo Mitchell supremacy!! Anti-war queen and Tammy Wynette fan! She's just like me....
3. Describe the creative process of writing a chapter/fic.
i thought you'd never ask (this is going to be long sorry (im saying this as if it's not already long))!!
i cannot, for the life of me, work directly from the computer. I am a "traditional artist" (whatever that even means) at heart, meaning that I have to do everything on paper </3. So for the first idea of Your jeep. Your teeth. The coffee that you bought me. i mapped it out very loosely in my silly little notebook.
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(i blocked out spoilers (maybe) for future chapters...) check out my terrible handwriting! and check out how different the plot was! What was i thinking? "Mav bumps into Ice with Bradley after visiting Carole" yeah... sure. But once i had that loose idea i started writing in that same notebook and things kind of went from there.
And then i realized that i should probably plan out the chapters on paper so there's some consistency. so that leads to the little list-like mind maps that i make--
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This is from before i learned TOP GUN moved to Nevada (sigh). In these list-like mind maps is where i come up with some of the important dialogue that needs to happen between characters ("I don't need to see a fucking shrink, Kazansky") and it was in these that the plot really began to change from that first mind map. I've made these mind maps for every chapter that needs to happen for the story.
Then after the mind map, I actually begin to write all the scenes out. after i physically write them out, i type it all up in google docs (sigh). AND THEN i copy and paste it all paragraph by paragraph into Grammarly (free edition i am not paying for that) and edit it all. And then i do it again. and then one more time. and then i post it. im crazy.
Thank u for putting in the ask!!! ily fentomy!!! i love talking about my fanfic (as you have so kindly suffered through these past weeks, thank you.) <333
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fandomfluffandfuck · 11 months
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hi!
im soooo happy you're unflagged now, slutty chris as your pfp was something i missed a lot when i opened tumblr haha 🫠
anywayy, i was wondering what tips you have for finishing WIPs? like, i have about 6 of them that are pretty long already but each time i open one i write about a paragraph and get unmotivated againn
i really wanna post this multichapter ive been working on since january (it's a dad's best friend trope, if you're wondering 👀) but im writing one last chapter and nothing will come to me :(
do you have any tips for getting motivated or just general things that help you stay focussed?
Hey!
Same! It felt like such a long time 😫 (I mean, it was almost three weeks, so it kinda was a long time, but you know what I'm getting at)
Your wip sounds super interesting. I'm sure they're all devine. Sending you all the ✨️motivation✨️
I don't know if I have tips as much as I can tell you what I do (or what I try to do, at least lol), but anyway, here goes--
I usually don't have more than one "actual" wip at one time, I obviously jot down ideas when they come to me, but I'm not writing multiple full-fledged fics at once. I'm writing a fic, and maybe I'm working on some writing for Tumblr at the same time. Other than that, I just don't. I'm VERY tempted at times, but I force myself to take it one at a time. Even when it might be painful, lol.
(And I'm aware that I'm very privileged to have a brain that works in such a way as to let me write like that.)
Plus, as weird as it sounds, I've found the more I write with a single wip at a time, the more moving onto the next idea I have becomes a reward in of itself.
As far as finishing what I'm working on currently, usually I start with an outline, literal jot dots, for what I want the fic to be. Obviously, it doesn't always follow what I first put down, but there's an outline at least. Then, I go back and fill in that outline where I know nothing is permanent. I literally write the full fic in jot dot form. It just might be missing bits and pieces. It's still in jot dots. After I finish through the whole outline--expanding the ideas into actual writing--I go back, and I go section by section, removing the jot dots while reading for things I might need to change, things I might want to add, etc. After I get through the whole thing that way, I re-read it as a normal piece of writing. Again, changing or adding or removing things or whatever as I go. Then, I usually run it through a program like Grammarly or some shit to catch stuff that I can't catch (thanks dyslexia). Finally, I copy and paste it into AO3, reading it one last time, in a different font.
My schedule for writing on the weekend (soon weekdays, too... almost hello summer 👀) is to write for an hour after I eat breakfast. I'm a morning person, I get up at 6:00 am, then I sit on the couch with my laptop and type for an hour. Usually like 7:00-8:00am. Then I'm done. I'll come back to it tomorrow. It's a routine that's been my routine for a couple of years now, so I don't even really think about it. I just do.
(Also, obviously, if I'm in the middle of a scene or something, I write down what I will need for later, but I have shit to do, so I have to stop.)
When I'm in the middle of writing and I get stuck, usually I scroll back up to what I've written earlier and do some rereading. Or I scroll down and freshen my memory of where I'm trying to take this thing. Then, I integrate back into what I'm trying to write, thinking about the feeling I want to create, what picture I want to paint, what the internal world of the character I am writing is like (what is their "voice"), etc. When words won't come, I think about things other than words--if that makes any sense, lol.
If that doesn't work, rereading, I might take a breather. I drink a lot of tea, so I might go make myself some tea, sometimes thinking about what I'm trying to write, sometimes not. Usually, I get a lot of ideas the second I set my laptop aside, lmao. Or it comes to me when I'm pacing, waiting for water to heat up. Usually, because I write for an hour, I feel pressure to write the whole time, but I don't have to. No one has to do anything. It's all good. Take a breath.
A breather.
I also always listen to music when I'm writing. Almost always music with words but not always the same genre; I'm not just listening to horny music or whatever when I'm writing, so if I'm stuck, I might swap to a new playlist. Maybe one that is intentionally matching for what I'm writing--a more sexual playlist for smut, a softer playlist for romance, an upsetting playlist for angst, etc. Or maybe one that clashes, that always shakes something loose in my brain.
(Listening to straight fucking screamo when writing an intimate, quiet, fragile scene is objectively hilarious, too, so I entertain myself.)
Usually, when I write in the morning, I don't have as much trouble with my dyslexia because I haven't exhausted myself reading and processing the bullshit that letters and numbers do all day, but if it's just a bad day for whatever reason... I might swap fonts and try to keep at it. Usually, I write in Verdana, but I might swap to Comic Sans or something for a while.
Or, if I'm stuck because of dyslexia or anything else, I might just stop for the day. As a perfectionist and workaholic and, just, someone who you could not pay to sit still and not do something, I'm trying to allow myself more times where I can just stop. A lot of the time, I push through, though. I tell myself 10 more minutes, then you're done. A tangible goal can be good.
What really motivates me is getting the fic out. Not even necessarily getting it out and publishing it to AO3 and seeing people's reactions to what I create, although that is undeniably an incredible thing to experience. I feel compelled to write. I like the process of writing. And because I've accidentally created this rule for myself where I have to finish one thing before the next, I have to get something out to start the next. Editing is the WORST, but I will do it to move on to the next. That's just my workaholic nature.
It'll probably kill me one day... it's not the best. As a consequence, I will readily admit I forget what I've written CONSTANTLY. I don't re-read what I write once it's finished. I move on to the next idea so fast that I forget what I did prior until other people bring it up. I'm propelled forward with very narrow vision. Again, it's not the best, and I should learn to stop and appreciate what I've done. It's hard, though.
Also, talking to people about your ideas is always a good way to go. I should do it more, too. I find myself being a very selfish creator. I create from this place of compulsion. I have to get it out. I don't know why, I just do. It's the way I am. And I create alone a lot. I'm an introvert and a highly independent person, I like to be alone, and I like to make things alone. So, it's easy to fall into the same pattern of being private and only showing off what I have when it's fully finished, complete with a sparkling varnish. But that doesn't have to be the way it is. Share bits and pieces, talk about what you're doing, let other people tell you you're doing it! You're doing a good job! They're excited to see the next update, no matter how small!
If you can't/don't want to share, though, a fun way to bounce ideas around is going, okay, I have to make a list of [whatever number, 20, 50, 100, etc.] ideas. They can be absolute fucking garbage, all of them, but I am going to list out as many as I possibly can. If none of them are good, great! They're no longer taking up space in my brain. They're on this list. If one or two are good, great! You can build on those or warp them to fit.
I hope some of that helped, lol. I just tried to explain the way my brain works, and it isn't pretty, lmao.
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rocketxgirl · 5 months
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The arrival (QSMP x OC)
(This was proofread by Grammarly so I hope there aren't any mistakes haha)
word count: 1157 reading time: 8.9 minutes
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Okay… this was weird…
Why was she in the fucking woods? Wasn’t she supposed to be in her cozy room, finally sleeping before going to school?
She needed to keep calm, she couldn’t start panicking in the middle of nothingness… well it wasn’t nothingness if you consider big trees, plants, and flowers something. For our protagonist, though it was nothing, there wasn’t any kind of living creature. She was alone.
“What could I do?” she whispered to herself, she was indecisive. Should she start screaming, hoping someone would hear her, or should she try finding someone by herself?
She decided to start screaming, it probably was the dumbest thing she could do but at least someone could hear her!.... maybe at least, but that’s better than nothing.
So she yelled and screamed with all her force, her throat would probably hate her after that. “Helloooo! Is someone hereee?!” after half an hour she finally heard someone getting near her. The first thing she noticed were long locks of golden hair, a pair of elf ears, and a pair of eyes that she swears that remind her of someone… but who?
“Hey,” the girl hoped that strange man wouldn’t hurt her. “Hey,” he said back “Who are you?”. Was it wise to tell him her real name? Maybe she could use one of the OCs’ names that she created, after all, they were all a projection of herself, and that way she wouldn’t have any of her “but I’m lying” problems. “I’m Rosaleen, and who are you?” she just really hoped she wouldn’t have any problems when he called her that in the future. “I’m Forever… why are you here? I didn’t see you when I and my friends got here” So there were more people in here, now this is interesting… wait that name’s familiar… where did she hear that? “I actually don’t know how I got here…” she felt silly, in a way. She probably should know how she got in here, after all Forever knew how and why he was here, wherever “here” was. “I don’t even know where or what “here” is”.
“This is the Quesadilla Island… wait you don’t know how you got here? What do you mean by that?!” she could tell the man was perplexed about the situation. “Yeah… It seems like I have no memory about my journey here” She didn’t want to tell him she didn’t have any memories at all, it could complicate her situation even more if she did so. “You know what? I’ll take you to the Favela, my friend Cellbit might be of better help than me” and with that he started walking beside the girl, to help her get her memories back or at least to discover how she got in the Quesadilla Island.
And they walked and walked, talked and talked until they got to the famous Favela. Everything reminded Rosaleen of something but she never could remember what it was. She had memories of literally everything that happened to her before being on this island but that.
The Favela was fantastic, it was so colorful and it gave her joyful vibes like nothing bad could happen there. The first people she saw there was a man and a child. The man fluffy brown hair wasn’t too long but it was longer than what she saw from other guys that unfortunately existed in her country, he had cat hears that was somewhat hidden by the amount of hair the man had… she could swear that his eyes were one of the most gorgeous colors she ever saw, Rosaleen could stare at them all day and she probably wouldn’t get bored of them… okay she needed to stop staring at him, she couldn’t give him a bad first impression. changing the subject… the child that was with the man had beautiful dark skin, she didn’t know how to compare it to something so she didn’t, he had curly hair that hid… horns? What the fuck?! Wait he had dragon wings too?! How fucking cool was that?! There was no way the child could be even cooler… she was wrong. He had a prosthetic leg and that made him even cooler, she already decided he would be her favorite kid if there were others on this damn island.
The man and the children walked towards the two of them, the man was asking himself who was the girl beside Forever. Finally, the blonde saw the two getting near them. “Cellbit, here you are!”
“Here I am… Forever, can I ask you who’s that?” Rosaleen hoped the man wouldn’t be suspicious of her, he seemed like someone with trust issues.
“This is Rosaleen,” the blonde said energetically “She just got on the island but doesn’t remember how she got here, so I thought you could help her!”
“Yeah, I could help her but she has to wait a little since I’m a little busy right now”
“Busy with what?” she asked without even thinking, she had always been curious. Instead of Cellbit answering her, the child started writing on a plaque. “It’s a secret :)” That’s what it was written in it. “Oh, okay… excuse me but why don’t you talk?” after rethinking how it could be offensive she added “If you don’t wanna tell me it’s fine, sorry for asking haha” and awkwardly laughed hoping the kid wasn’t offended by her words.
“Não podia tar calada nè?” she whispered, hoping no one would hear nor understand her. Rosaleen knew already she would overthink about it for two days minimum. The two men, unfortunately for her, heard what she said and were intrigued by her knowledge of the Portuguese language.
“Você fala português?” asked Cellbit, if she did speak Portuguese why wasn’t she on the boat with the rest of the Brazilians?
“Eh?” why the fuck couldn’t she just shut the fuck up? “Sim… porque?” she’s fucked up.
“Por que você não estava com o resto dos brasileiros quando chegamos aqui com o barco?”
“Desculpa-me mas como posso saber disso, eh? O Forever jà te disse que não me lembro de nadinha de como cheguei aqui, tà?!” was he deaf? literally, how could she know when she had no memory of how she got here? “E, ainda mais, eu não sou brasileira. Não sei se consegues ouvir o meu sotaque, completamente horrivel eu sei, mas de certeza não é brasileiro”.
Cellbit had to give her a point, after all, that was kind of a dumb question. He apologized to the girl for claiming she was one of the Brazilians and told her he would help her tomorrow, maybe she could help him with his research since it was too late now - he didn’t want her to know he was a workaholic. Rosaleen wished a good night to the child - whose name she still didn’t know - and to Cellbit before going to Forever’s house to sleep the night.
translations: Não podia tar calada nè?: I couldn't stay shut, could I? Você fala português?: You speak Portuguese? Sim… porque?: Yes... why? Por que você não estava com o resto dos brasileiros quando chegamos aqui com o barco?: Why weren't you with the rest of the Brazilians when we got here on the boat? Desculpa-me mas como posso saber disso, eh? O Forever jà te disse que não me lembro de nadinha de como cheguei aqui, tà?!: Excuse me but how could I know that, huh? Forever already told you that I remember nothing about how I got here, alright?! E, ainda mais, eu não sou brasileira. Não sei se consegues ouvir o meu sotaque, completamente horrivel eu sei, mas de certeza não é brasileiro: And, I'm not Brazilian. I don't know if you can hear my accent, completely horrible I know, but it certainely isn't Brazilian (english isn't my first language, so i'm sorry for any translation mistake. my portuguese isn't as good too so sorry for any mistake in it too haha)
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sailoryooons · 1 year
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Just a question. I feel like your works are largely unedited. Is there a reason? It just feels frustrating as a reader when authors dont bother to edit their work lol
Hi anon - so I mean I can't speak for all the writers on this platform but I can speak to my personal experience editing my own stuff. I can assure you that it isn't born of laziness or not caring about the quality of my work, it is quite literally rooted in my worst quality as a writer: insecurity.
Insecurity might not actually be the right word but it's the one I'm going to use. I have a very weird relationship with my writing, that the longer I spend on a work, the more I start to loathe it, especially if it's something particularly difficult to write.
Additionally, if you've read most of my stuff, you see how long a lot of my things are. When I finish a fic after usually hours and thousands of words, I am suddenly in the editing stage and there is nothing more that gives me absolute anxiety than the thought of editing. Also - most of my unedited is my early fics or the ones that are like 20k words. I'm pretty lucky that 9/10 my more recent fics are beta read by @here2bbtstrash and I know those have no errors because M is perfect, but beyond M, I don't have someone who beta reads for me. It's a huge ask for people who are often also writers to stop their own fics and read 20k words for you.
One thing I have learned about myself: the more editing I do, the more I start re-writing the work. I have delayed so many fics this way. Editing is the reason that Chapter IV of Carved took so long. I was writing and erasing thousands of words at a time over and over again because when I went back to edit, I had fallen completely out of love with what I had written.
When I say I don't edit - I do use Grammarly and Spell Check and I make all those changes, and I do skim while going through those checks. I don't think that my fics are largely unreadable - someone can tell me if they are - but it's sheerly based on the fact that, currently where I am at in my relationship with my own writing, not stopping to read-edit my own works is the lesser of two evils, which is me re-writing a fic over and over again.
I understand as a reader it can feel like a writer doesn't care when they don't edit closely, but I just... it's my own thing to work on and something to try and get better at. It's not because I don't want to or think I don't need to. It's because the editing process makes me not want to post.
*Note: anyone who has ever sprinted with me or written in a collab with me can attest that 98% of my fics are not written over several days or weeks. They are typically written in a span of over 2-3 days in which I write thousands of words in a few hours. This is part of why at the end of a fic I don't even want to look at it.
Also I write for free on Tumblr dot com so I am always going to pick the route that gives me less anxiety I'm sorry
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starry-hughes · 1 year
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me and grammarly have beef because i have a 2000 word minimum for this term paper and it keeps making me change my wording to be concise
PLEASE STOP GRAMMARLY I NEED TO REACH WORD COUNT OR MY PROFESSOR, MATTHEW, WILL KILL ME
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5, 6 and 9 for the writer asks! 🫶
Tysm for the ask!! Always love seeing you in my inbox <2
From this ask game :D
5. What fic of your own won’t you read?
I'd say like, anything I posted before Blindsided, with the exception of Pinned. So like, that's Scorched Earth and One Bite I think. They're still up on my blog, they're just like really old and I'm slightly embarrassed by them 😭
6. What’s the hardest part of the writing process for you?
Like, actually doing the writing lmaoooo. I write in like 1k word bursts every month or two weeks or something. So not a lot lol. All the stuff in's my head, just in raw idea form. Close second is editing though. I honestly don't know how to edit shit. But I have amazing whumpblr friends who beta read my stuff <2 @whump-in-the-closet @whump-queen @soheavyaburden mwah I love you guys :D
9. What’s your writing process like?
It's a little bit insane. It's like:
I come up with an idea, and then immediately proceed to not write it for like 6+ months. Just like rolling it around in my head and adding all the little details.
This gets to the point where I'm pretty much just writing prose in my head.
Then at a random time, generally in the evenings or like 11:30 pm just before I'm about to sleep, I suddenly develop the motivation to write it out, and usually I complete a chunk of the story before stopping. Sometimes if it's shorter I'll finish the entire first draft.
From then on, whether and when I finish the story is up to fucking god. If the stars align in my favor, then maybe I continue it in like 2 weeks to a month.
And then there's editing! Come back to the writing after a few days, make some changes after I've thought about it for a bit. Run it through grammarly for like spell check and stuff.
Then I just like, send the doc to my very cool whumpblr friends for beta reading, make some final changes, and post :D
Anyways I have so much writing I need to do. But my writing process is very sporadic and slow lmaooo. One day. I will have lots of stories. I still have some now tho!!!
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