#also ​my friends phone tagged it as suggestive apparently

[pigin-is-so-rad]

Hello Tumblr dot com

[toji-girl]

tags: repost + drunk! fem reader + alcohol + age gap + Toji is soft and sweet but also possessive and jealous + you feel him up + he carries you + slightly suggestive + self-ship piece made for everyone to enjoy + lmk any missing tag please!

Three missed calls and one unheard voicemail.

Saturday 2:30 am, September 2nd; Hey…I called you two times, first one rang a few times then went straight to voicemail, and the second call the same thing happened, now this is the third and final time I have attempted to reach out before I come out looking. Where are you? Don’t make me ask again princess.

You stared down at your phone screen with a scoff at your boyfriend’s behavior. Dating an older man is not for the weak or the people who get annoyed easily. It was Friday night and you left his place after staying there all week.

So weren’t you entitled to go out and have some fun? You did ask if he wanted to go but said something along the lines of my back hurts not tonight doll but apparently not enough for him to come out and look for you.

It wasn’t as if you were going out with a bunch of your guy friends, sure there’d be a few but mostly it was just you and your girlfriends wanting a night out, and being twenty-eight it only made sense, right?

You stood in front of the mirror in your best friend’s bedroom flanked by your group of friends. Aya stood behind you and cupped your breasts when you took a picture. “Send that to gramps, he’d lose it.”

Cackles could be heard from your close knit of women who leaned in and made pouty faces taking another one to send to Toji who was currently at his house waiting for you to call him so he can come and pick you up.

It was after the fourth bar everyone decided to stop by Aya’s apartment since it was the closest one at the time and you were beyond tipsy sending him random messages throughout the evening. “He’s not that old.” You shot back.

“Old enough to be your dad! His son is close to our age! Have you thought about a little son vs. dad duo? I wonder who’s better at eating pussy?” She teased and changed into yet another outfit before going back out again.

Your face scrunched up as you threw a balled-up dress at her head. “You’re disgusting, and I can promise you that it’s Toji. That man had me crying last night just from - ”

You stopped mid sentence feeling your face flush, your inebriated brain played the memories of just that; the way he had your legs thrown over his shoulders as he made out with your pussy slowly fingerfucking you until you squirted.

Em who you also haven known since preschool snatched your phone from your hand to open the text thread between you and Toji. “Just from what? Maybe an older dude is the way to go, they can dick you down good.”

She sighed wistfully already like she didn’t have a boyfriend. “Do not look through our messages because you will be disappointed in me, I’m dirty.” You squealed trying to reach for your phone only to get smacked on the hand.

“Oh my god! You sent him a picture of your whole pussy?" She shrieked shoving your phone back in your chest with a loud cackle as the other girls joined in falling on Aya's bed with more laughter.

They all sat up and looked at you like you were their momma bird and they were waiting to be fed. "You are dirty, do you like it when daddy spanks you?" Aya asked in a deep tone trying her best to mock Toji.

You picked up a small plushie and threw it at her head feeling your cheeks flame to a level of uncomfortable warmth. "Stop! You guys are making me want to go back to his house and get fucked dumb and I did yes, he loves it and I love showing it off to him." You huffed.

With everyone ready you and everyone else linked arms and squeezed through the front door of the apartment and down the street not having a single clue that Toji was already two steps behind you, after the first time you didn't answer this was the only way to check on you and make sure nothing was going down.

He couldn't help but click his tongue a little as you swayed and clung to Aya who wasn't much better than you as everyone got shoved through the line and into the doors. It was a split-second decision he made to follow after, one he wouldn't regret one bit.

Toji was sure he would never fall in love again after his first marriage, the idea of his heart being shattered again wasn't something he wanted to go through with which is why he was here at almost three in the morning stalking you making sure you were okay and stayed safe; his pretty little girlfriend who keeps gushing about him.

It wasn't hard not to hear you giggle and talk about how much you love your boyfriend who does everything for you and how could you really not? Thankfully you were drunk enough that you didn't notice him standing in the corner dressed darkly with a hat covering most of his face.

"I think you should just move in with him but then we'd never see you again, what about our weekly date nights? You've been putting it off since you met gramps." Aya pouted as you and her danced close to the edge of the bar keeping your eyes on your friends and drinks.

You glared at Aya and let her tug you closer indulging in one of her favorite love languages. "Stop calling him that. He's barely in his forties and treats me so well, I do love him Aya, I really do." You admitted wishing you were in his arms peppering his face with kisses.

Aya handed you your drink with a shit-eating grin. "I just love teasing you is all, and I know older men are all that and a bag of chips but babe...you have to remember that he is way older than you with a kid younger than us, I think maybe your daddy issues are showing."

"How about you butt out of my relationship." You hissed feeling the fun bubbly feeling of being drunk turn into something else; a hot red rage that took a hold of you like a vice. You stumbled back away from her and broke away from your group of friends for a breath of air.

When you came back inside you still didn't see Toji who now moved after hearing your conversation with Aya and knew you were going to cry about it to him later which he'd happily lap up and soothe away any thoughts that would even begin to push him out of your life.

The booze in your veins pumped along with the blasting music as you nursed another drink while trying your best to pull out your phone to text Toji.

[You - 3:26 am]

srry im drink plz pick me up

Toji who was a mere few feet from you when he felt his phone vibrate which he quickly slid from his pocket to read your message clicking his tongue again as he looked over at you and his heart melted. You looked sad and defeated which is not a good thing paired with the alcohol you drank.

You hunched over the oak bar and sighed when you felt a pair of hands on your upper back, you didn't even need to turn around to know who it was. "What's the matter with my princess?" He asked.

Toji grasped your shoulders and pulled you back a little into his chest, the back of your head rested on his abs as he tilted your head up to look at him, unshed tears swam in your eyes. "How'd you get here so quickly?" You asked slurring your words together with a giggle.

He bent down to press a soft chaste kiss to your forehead before collecting you in his arms letting you hang off his left one almost as if you were a doll, his hand pulled your dress down before patting your ass with a heavy sigh looking for your friends to update them on you.

"I'm taking her back to my place, and I'm sure she will call you in the morning," Toji told your group of friends who only nodded in response watching you hang off of him, your head hung low. "Byeeeee!!" You squealed when he made his way to the exit.

Once he got you both outside he sat you down on your feet holding your upper arms. "Can you walk to the car? It's down the street." He asked immediately getting his answer when you stumbled back again, thankfully you were close enough he was able to wrap one large arm around your waist keeping you upright.

Toji used his strength and sobriety to his advantage to hoist you up again tossing you over his shoulder carefully, one hand rested on your ass to make sure it didn't bunch up. "Mhm! Toji!" You screamed reaching your hands down to squeeze and slap his ass hearing him grunt and huff your name.

"Making sure my princess gets home. Stop." His hand came down with a little force on your backside to catch your attention when you tried to interrupt him with a string of unintelligible noises.

You hung from his shoulder like a lifeless rag doll until he finally made it to his car and unlocked it with the key in his pocket. When he sat you down again your hands reached up to grab his pecs with a grin. "Love you and your big 'ole tits. Wanna bite 'em." You squealed.

He couldn't help but roll his eyes a little at you but still let you get your way as you used the extra height from your high heels to motorboat him with a loud laugh. "Me and my big tits love you too, now get in the car so I can get you into bed." He ordered with a grunt.

Ten minutes later you found yourself settled into Toji's bed watching him as he cleaned your face with a washrag before he took off your fake eyelashes the best he could. "What's the point of these? They look like fuckin' spiders." He said and tucked you in earning a giggle.

Toji never got his answer seeing that you were asleep, your hand curled into his shirt still. His mind wandered about your conversation with Aya earlier and knew that you two would need to have one of your own.

[dumpywrites]

Locked! - Min Yoongi / Suga

Prompt: Your friends locked you together for an hour so you can make up. 

Prompt request: HERE

Genre/tags: Slight angst, fluff, boyfriend Yoongi/established relationship

Pairing: Yoongi x she/her reader

a/n: imagining the atmosphere of BTS in the soop helps with the mood! :)

“Jin! Get me out!!!”

“Sorry, I’m only following orders!” 

Two hours before this, you were in your bedroom, contemplating whether you should really go to this short trip your friends had been planning for weeks. The idea sounded great in your mind until the very last week. 

You had been fighting with your boyfriend for a week now. In the eight months of dating him, this was by far the longest you had fight with each other. Yoongi was mostly, if not every time, the most caring and chill person you knew. The thing was, he was so chill to the point he would let a random woman touch his face freely, caressing his cheek like he did not belong to you. 

Sure, he was tipsy, at least that was his first excuse. But he was sober enough to see that his girlfriend was standing not too far away from him. Adding more to the fuel, apparently they used to work together and you had never even heard any of that nonsense. 

That night you refuse both to go home with him and his offer to take you home. Your dramatic self almost called a cab if not for Jungkook dragging you to his car, basically volunteering to go home early just to safe the situation. 

Must be the ego of the man, because Yoongi did not reach out to you after that. While he apologized right at the venue, you wanted him to come and comfort you, talk just the two of you to sort things out. But you two were alike after all, because just like him, your ego forbid you to even just text him. In your defense, he was at fault. 

And that was how you ended up in Namjoon’s private villa, where you were supposed to have fun with your friends. The sour expression was not leaving you anytime soon, not when Yoongi was also there in the room with you. 

Jin suggested a dance off on his switch. Man had not shut up ever since he got the latest copy of Just Dance in his console. Obviously you were not having it, so instead you just stood behind, watching Namjoon and Jungkook dance off to Rain on Me by Lady Gaga. 

“Hey, uh, Y/N? Can you get my joycon strap? They’re my room…”

You got up lazily and walked to the said room, completely unaware of the fact someone was already sleeping inside. 

And that was how you got into this whole situation. 

“Jin!!!” 

You yelled again, but this time there was no more response came from the older guy, only the sound of the boys changing the song to play next. Clearly, they were not planning on getting both of you out very soon. 

The yelling and banging at door awoken the other person in the room. You both stare at each other for a few seconds, before you broke the eye contact. You moved quietly to sit down on a chair, facing your back to him. 

“They locked us up.” You said while pretending to browse your phone, busying yourself on nothing. 

The guy just straighten himself up on the bed, sitting down and grabbed his phone and started scrolling without answering to your words. 

“You’re not gonna say anything?” You snapped. You were not having his silent treatment. 

Yoongi put down his phone and sighed heavily. “What do you want me to say?”

“Whatever.” 

You groaned, standing up from your seat, you headed to the other bed just next to his. You laid down and put the blanket to cover yourself wholly. If he could just go to sleep and run away from his problems, then so could you. 

Maybe it was the tiredness from the trip, but eventually you fell asleep in just a few minutes. But the sleep only took you for a couple of minutes before the cool weather woke you up, made you shiver. You tossed and turned on the bed, hugging yourself close. 

“Are you cold?” 

You heard the voice said. The ego within you refused to react, so you stayed unmoved inside the bedcover. 

His voice called for your name again for the second time, but still, you refused to move. It was the hint of gentleness and loving in his tone, or maybe just the fact that you missed him so much, you just started tearing up silently. 

“Can you stop being childish?” 

You heard him again, but this time the source of his voice sounded very near, as if he was just right behind you. 

And you were right. He peeled the cover just until your waist, exposing yourself from underneath. You were still hugging yourself, folding your wrists together under your chin, eyes all covered. 

He sighed loudly, before your eyes jolted open at the feeling the other side of the bed dipped in with the weight of his body. 

“Don’t.” 

You stopped him. Clearly at this point he was aware of you crying but you did not care. All you knew was that you would instantly melt the moment he touch you and you didn’t want him to win you back over that easily. 

“At least let me cuddle you, I don’t want you to get sick.”

“Just turn off the aircon.”

“The remote is in the living room. The one they have outside isn’t working.” 

You groaned. The universe really wasn’t on your side this time. 

“Ugh, whatever I’ll yell at them to get us out…”

“Okay, stop.” 

You looked at his direction and saw the frustration distinctly written on his face. 

“What do you want?!” You folded your arms at him. “You clearly didn’t want to talk with me before.” 

“I…” He found it hard to make out his words. “Look, I just—“

“Do you wanna break up?” 

It was an impulsive thing for you to say. You did not actually mean it of course. You loved him, you loved him a lot that you could barely handle not being close with him for a week. You could not imagine how you would handle an actual breakup with him. 

“Jesus, no.” He ran his fingers through his hair. “Let’s talk this through…” 

You saw how he stretched his arm, like he was about to hold yours, but stopped in his tracks. 

“Who is she?” You suddenly asked.

Yoongi looked to your eyes and went silent. He seemed to be in deep thoughts. It took him a few moments before he opened his mouth. 

“Her name’s Yujin. We used to work together last year before she resigned. Also used to be somewhat close until I found out she only wanted to get close to me because of my position…” He sighed. “Heard it myself, it was her words not mine. I overheard her talking with someone at our company dinner.”

“I didn’t know…” You said, looking at him sympathetically. “Why haven’t I heard about any of this? Aren’t we friends way long before all of this?”

“I kinda don’t want you to know about how dumb I was.” He raised his eyebrows and huffed. 

“But that night…”

“I know.” He looked at you directly. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know what to do. Everyone was staring and if I just push her or do anything rude it’d be much worse. As much as I despise her, I didn’t want to embarrass her in the public eye like that.” 

“But I don’t like seeing other people touch you like that…” You looked away as you felt your eyes getting glassy again. 

“Come here.” He took you by your wrist and you landed in his embrace. “I’m sorry.” He said as stroked your hair gently. 

“I miss you…” You said between sniffles. 

“I know, I guess I was angry because you just left and refused to listen to me.”

“I’m sorry too, I was just really jealous.” You hugged him tighter and you could hear him chuckle a little bit. 

“Are we good now?” 

He let go off you to take a good look at your face. His thumb swiped the remaining tears from your eyes and you broke into a smile, nodding at him. He smiled back, showing the gummy smile you loved so much. 

“What do we do with the cold now? Clearly they’re not getting us out until dinner…” He eyed you playfully. 

“You pervert!” You giggled. “But I’m interested…”

Suddenly the man went down from the bed and stood up. You looked at him in utter confusion. Just seconds later, he scooped you and lifted you up in his arms. You yelped loudly in surprise. 

You looked down to see him smiling with eyes full of lust—

“Yo… I think they’re fucking!!!” You heard Hoseok exclaimed. 

“Oh my gosh they are!” Jimin squealed giddily. 

“We still need their help to prepare dinner though…” You heard Namjoon protested in the background. 

“We can hear you, assholes!” Yoongi shouted back.

You heard a mixture of Jungkook and Hoseok’s laughter before the door clicked open. 

“Ayy!” Taehyung teased upon seeing you still in Yoongi’s arms. He had put you down but still had his arms around you. “Now that’s a sight we love to see!”

“Where the hell is Jin?!” You said, storming out the room. 

The oldest laughed at the sight of you looking pissed. “It was Namjoon’s idea!” He pointed at the other guy.

“I couldn’t stand the two of you fighting I like that.” He shrugged. “Plus, if you’re not fighting that means I get to sleep in my room alone cause Yoongi’s gonna sleep in yours.” 

“See? Everyone happy.” Jin laughed and clapped. “Now, go get the meat, we need to prepare for the barbecue!” 

You shook your head and smiled, seeing the silly guys. Yoongi walked from behind you and quickly gave you a kiss on the cheek before joining the chaos in front of you. 

You wouldn’t trade this for the world. 

Thank you for reading! 🍃

Prompt request: HERE

[sailor-aviator]

Meet Me at the Sea: Chapter Five

Meet Me at the Sea: Chapter Five

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Reader

Summary: Your best friend, Bob Floyd, had insisted you join him for the summer at his family's home along the Carolina coasts. You had been hesitant at first, but ultimately agreed to his request. Now, here you were in a new town with strange locals who spoke in hushed whispers and cryptic retellings about glistening scales, glowing eyes, and haunting songs that echoed from the sea. You didn't believe them at first, but when you wake up on the beach one morning after having fallen overboard the night before, you can't help but think that maybe you hadn't imagine the strong arms and deep, green eyes of the man that had saved you.

Trigger warnings: Language, Mean girl Mandy, Flirting, Alcohol, Siren call, Supernatural elements, Kind of suggestive/smutty but not really? idk

Word Count: 4.2k

A/N: Alright, alright! The ball is starting to roll! We've got a lot going on now, I think. Can't wait to hear y'all's thoughts! Also, shoutout to @goldenseresinretriever for letting me bounce ideas off of her! You the real MVP!! If you're feeling kind/generous, please consider buying me a ko-fi! Also, if you DO NOT fill out the form below (Tag List) then you will not be tagged! I will be referring to that Google form from now on! As always, reblogs, comments and likes are greatly appreciated! Asks/requests are always open! 18+ ONLY!! You can find me on AO3 under sailor_aviator where I also post my updates!

Series Masterlist || Jake "Hangman" Seresin Tag List

“I thought the bonfires happened the other night?” You asked Bob as the two of you made your way down the practically deserted streets. It was late, and the only people out were the young adults still looking to have a good time. The family friendly activities had ended hours ago, and now it was time for the partying to start.

“They were supposed to,” he said, eyes scanning the dimly lit street, “but they got postponed because of all the rain the other week. This was the only night that worked for most everyone around town.”

“That works out for us, I guess,” you hummed, hearing the sound of crashing waves grow closer as you neared the beach.

“Hey, thing one and thing two!”

The two of you turned around to see a grinning Bradley jogging up behind you, and you turned with a smile to greet him.

“Hey, Bradley!” You chirped. “We thought you’d already be down at the beach with everyone else.”

“I was, but I forgot my phone at the house,” he said, waving his phone in his hand. “So I ran back to grab it. Everyone else should already be down there, though.”

“We better get a move on before all the drinks are gone,” Bob mused, already moving once again. Bradley fell into step alongside you, bumping your shoulder with his.

“Feel like I haven’t seen you in forever, Skipper,” he joked, casting a smirk down at you. “You been avoiding me?”

“I could ask you the same thing,” you giggled.

Bradley scoffed, giving you an offended look that was made less serious by the grin on his face. “Me? Avoid you? Don’t be ridiculous. Who in their right mind would avoid a sweet, little thing like you?”

“You must not really know her then,” Bob snorted. “She practically cut my hand off when I went for the last fry at lunch today.”

“That was entirely your fault,” you huffed, sticking your tongue out at him. “You know how much I love french fries.”

“Yeah, enough to cause grievous bodily injuries, apparently,” he smirked. You scowled at him before looking back at Bradley who was also smirking at you.

“He’s being dramatic,” you offered with a shrug.

“Barely.”

“Like you’re one to talk,” you griped as the three of you walked down the stairs and onto the beach. You could see the glow from the various fires flicker in the night, groups of different people huddled around each one. “I have to set an alarm every morning to wake up before he does if I want any bacon.”

“Oh, trust me,” Bradley laughed, steering you towards a fire on the edge of the grouping, Bob in tow. “I grew up with him. I know how much bacon he puts away.”

“I am not that bad,” Bob huffed, earning identical dubious looks from both you and Bradley. You giggled when Bradley quirked his eyebrow at you.

“Sure you aren’t, Bob,” you laughed, earning a scowl from your best friend.

“You made it!”

The three of you turned to see Nat waving at you, the rest of the squad already settled in on the towels surrounding the small fire. You felt a shiver run up your spine as you made eye contact with a pair of mossy green ones. You looked away as your cheeks warmed, letting Bradley guide you across the fire and down on a group of towels, Bob on your other side.

“So,” said the brunette sitting next to Jake, blue eyes calculating as she took you in. She was just as beautiful as the last time you saw her. Tan skin glowed in the light from the fire, body lithe and athletic. She looked like she walked off the cover of a fashion magazine, and her narrowed gaze was trained on you, lips curled into waht appeared to be a permanent sneer. “You must be the tagalong I’ve heard so much about. Skipper was it?”

You shifted uncomfortably, glancing over at Bradley as he stiffened next to you, a glare fixed on his face as he looked at her.

“Yeah,” you said, offering an anxious smile as you looked back at her. “That’s what they call me anyway.”

“It’s cute,” she said, tone indicating that she most certainly did not find it cute. “I’m Mandy. You’ve probably heard of me from the others.”

“Oh, yeah,” you smiled. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“I’m not surprised,” she continued with a smirk. “I’ve known everyone here since we were in diapers. We go way back, you know. Don’t feel bad if you end up feeling left out in our conversations, okay?”

You shifted again, this time knocking your knee into your bag. The shells you carried with you jostled, clinking together, and you blushed when everyone looked at you.

“What was that?” Mickey asked, peering over to get a better look. You lifted your bag as you began to pull each shell out and placing it carefully on the towel.

“Oh, these are the shells and things I’ve been finding everywhere!” You smiled, running your fingers over the conch. “Aren’t they amazing? I’ve never seen so many beautiful shells in my life! And they’re all perfectly in tact, can you believe it? It’s like someone just plucked them up off the ocean floor and set them out for me to find!”

“That’s quite a collection,” Nat chuckled, shooting a smirk off to the side. You followed her line of sight, and your eyes made direct contact with the mossy green ones from earlier. Jake looked at you with an expression that could only be described as awe as he took you in, eyes peering down to where you cradled the conch gently in your hands before looking back up at you. His eyes shone in the firelight, a hint of a smile on his lips as he looked at you. You felt another blush creep up your neck, and you leaned forward to place the conch closer to the fire for everyone to see. You heard a sharp intake of breath, and you looked up to see Mandy with a look of rage and shock on her face as she stared at you. You realized quickly she wasn’t staring at your face, but rather down at the base of your neck. Her eyes darted up to meet yours and her expression shifted quickly into one of cold contempt.

“You actually carry those around with you?” She sneered, scoffing out a laugh. “What are you? Five?”

You frowned up at her, suddenly feeling self conscious as you glanced around the group. Their smiles had shifted into looks of irritation as they glared at the brunette.

“Oh, I just-”

“I mean,” she sniffed, cutting you off, “I suppose it’s fitting for someone who looks like you though, right? You’re not exactly dressed to impress or anything.”

You looked down at your clothes, a frown on your face. You weren’t normally self conscious. Sure, you didn’t look like a model like Mandy, but you didn’t think you were hard on the eyes. You had dressed for comfort though, and it was plain to see in your jean shorts, tank top, and white button up. Mandy wore a pair of cutoffs and a tight fitting tank top that showed off her figure, and her makeup was immaculate. You hadn’t seen the point in putting any on. Should you have?

“Mandy,” Bob growled, glaring in a warning.

“Oh, I know she’s your friend and all, Bobby,” Mandy continued, a viscious smirk poised on her lips. “But let’s be honest. I mean, we’re among friends, right? And friends should be honest with each other. You’d be lucky if anyone gave you the time of day looking like that. Nevermind the silly, little shells you’re carrying around everywhere. You really should have left those back at the house, you know. And tell me you brought something nice to where for the ocean dance festival. Can you imagine if you wore some frumpy shorts to something like tha-”

“Shut up.”

All eyes turned to Jake who was glaring into the fire, eyes cold as the water that lapped the shore behind you. Mandy narrowed her eyes at him, rage clouding her features.

“Excuse me?” She spat, turning to face him. His gaze shifted to her, jaw clenching.

“Was I not clear enough?” He said evenly. “I said ‘shut up.’”

You hadn’t even realized that tears had gathered in your eyes until Bob laid a gentle hand on your shoudler causing you to jump. You looked over at him, sniffling as he gave you a concerned look. You wiped at the corner of your eyes, scrambling to your feet. You felt everyone’s eyes on you as you shifted from one foot to the other, avoiding their gazes.

“I’m, uh,” you gulped, trying to fight back the tears that were threatening to spill over. “I’m gonna go get something to drink.”

“I’ll come with you,” Bradley said, moving to his feet and giving you a gentle smile. “I’m parched.”

You turned to Bob with a watery smile. “You want anything?”

He studied you for a second, eyes uncertain. You gave him a look that you hoped communicated your need to pretend like you were okay, and he pressed his lips together.

“Just a beer.”

“You got it!” You smiled, trying and failing to add your usual cheeriness to the statement. You gave a half smile that you were sure came off as more of a grimace as you made your way towards the line of coolers on the other side of the fires. Bradley followed you silently, and you kept your head down, feeling the tears start to stream down your cheeks.

You knew you were being silly. They were just words after all, and you were a grown woman. You shouldn’t be letting silly words get to you like this. But why did they hurt so bad? You knelt by one of the coolers, fishing out two beers and a coke. You handed one of the beers to Bradley, refusing to make eye contact with him as you pushed the lid to the cooler closed.

“Hey,” he said, grabbing onto your arm gently, pulling you so that you faced him.

You kept your head down, and Bradley let out a sigh.

“Listen,” he started, hesitating as if he were choosing his next words carefully. “You shouldn’t listen to Mandy, okay? She’s a stone cold bitch on the best of days, and, well, she’s never been told ‘no’ a day in her life. She’s always gotten what she wanted, when she wanted it.”

“What’s your point?” You muttered, glancing off to the side as you wrapped your arms around yourself. Bradley let out another sigh, taking his hand from your arm to run it through his hair.

“My point is that she’s taking her new experience with the word out on you, and it’s not fair. I know it’s hard, but just ignore her, okay? She’s just jealous.”

“Of me?” You scoffed, finally meeting his gaze. Bradley smirked down at you, casting you a wink.

“You’re pretty great, Skipper,” he hummed. “Anyone with eyes can see it. Now, come on. Let’s head back to the others, yeah?”

You nodded, and the two of you made your way back to the fire. As you approached, you noted that Jake was the only one still there, eyes trained on the flames in front of him, seemingly deep in thought. He jumped when Bradley plopped down next to him, leaving just enough room for you to slide in between them.

“Where’d the others go?” Bradley asked, twisting the top off his beer and taking a swig from the bottle. Jake grimaced, gesturing around towards the other fires.

“Take your pick.”

Bradley hummed, leaning back on the towel with his legs outstretched towards the fire. The three of you were silent for a moment, and you felt a tingling sensation on your left side. You turned to find Jake already looking at you, eyes soft as they took you in. Your breath caught in your throat, cheeks flushing. You thought you should have been been creeped out with how intensely he was staring at you, but you felt oddly comfortable under his gaze. In fact, you found yourelf sitting up a little straighter, almost preening under his gaze, and a small smile tugged on Jake’s lips as he took you in, eyes blazing as they reached your neck.

You jumped as Bradley suddenly leaned over in front of you, breaking the spell you found yourself under. A shit eating grin was etched onto his face as he looked at Jake.

“Did you know Skipper here always wanted to be a mermaid?”

You felt yourself begin to splutter as your cheeks warmed for a different reason, eyes growing wide as you peered between the two men. Bradley waggled his eyebrows as Jake’s own shot up on his forehead. A smirk graced his lips, giving him a devilish look to his already handsome features. He looked at you, smirk intensifying as he saw your flustered state. He leaned forward, smirk growing into a grin as you glanced away.

“Is that so?” He hummed, warm breath ghosting over your face.

“I will remind you that I was, like, five at the time,” you snapped, glaring at Bradley. He only chuckled, resting his chin on his hand as he smirked lazily up at you.

“I think you’d make a cute mermaid, don’t you agree, Jake?”

Jake nodded with another hum, eyes taking on a look you couldn’t place, but it made you squirm nonetheless.

“Just imagine her swimming around with all her little fishy sidekicks,” Bradley teased, eyes alight with mischief. You scoffed, turning to face him.

“As if,” you snarked, “my sidekick wouldn’t be a fish, it would be a stingray.”

Jake quirked an eyebrow. “Why a stingray?”

“Oh,” you blushed, your nerves kicking up again. “Because they’re my favorite.”

Jake nodded slowly, like he was trying to commit that fact to memory. Bradley snorted beside you, and the two of you looked over at where he was smirking, eyes peeking at Jake before looking back at you.

“How could I forget?” He drawled, taking another sip of his beer. “I met Rusty when you and I were snuggled in bed the other morning.”

“That’s not-”

You were cut off by a growl to your left. You turned to see Jake’s entire expression had changed. His jaw was clenched, eyes trained on Bradley as if he wanted to take his head off. His fists were clenched so tight, you wouldn’t be surprised if he was drawing blood from where his fingernails dug into his palms. He was almost too still as he glared at Bradley, the other man looking smug as he took in his friend’s appearance.

“Are you okay?” You asked the blond, and his eyes glanced over at you, gaze seeming to soften as he took in your concern.

“Bradshaw!” Reuben called from across the way. “Get your ass over here!”

Bradley heaved a sigh, rolling his eyes as he got to his feet. “And that’s my cue,” he muttered.

You watched as he strutted over to where Reuben and Mickey were gathered with a group of people you didn’t know, leaving you alone with Jake.

“He’s such an ass sometimes,” he muttered, shaking his head.

“Isn’t he one of your best friends?” You asked him with a giggle. Jake’s demeanor seemed to relax at the sound.

“Unfortunately,” he grumbled, casting another glare over at where Bradley stood chatting and laughing.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” You frowned, noticing how tense he still seemed to be. He looked back at you, hesitating before letting out a sigh.

“Yeah, I guess I’m just feeling a little overheated or something,” he muttered, flexing his hands as he uncurled his fists. He moved to stand, and you followed suit.

“Think I’m going to go take a walk to cool off,” he mused, rolling his shoulders back. You frowned, rubbing a hand over your arm.

“Oh, okay,” you said, glancing at the ground, shifting your feet in the sand that covered the towel. Jake seemed to hesitate once more, chewing his bottom lip.

“Do you want to join me?” He asked you, his green eyes hopeful as you met his gaze. You felt a smile tug on your lips as you nodded.

“Yeah, I’d like that,” you murmured, moving to grab your bag. You stopped when you noticed it was placed neatly on top of the towel you had been sitting on previously, shells already back inside.

“I, uh,” Jake stuttered, rubbing the back of his neck bashfully. “I hope you don’t mind. I didn’t want anything to happen to them, so I put them back in your bag. I guess I should have asked first instead of just moving them. I’m sorry if I-”

“No,” you smiled, “it’s okay. Thank you.”

Jake gave you a nervous, tight lipped smile before nodding. “You can leave your bag here if you want. No one is going to take it.”

You returned his nod, gesturing for him to lead the way down the beach.

The two of you walked in silence for a few minutes, the ocean waves crashing off to your right, and the cool, night breeze ruffling your hair.

“Listen,” Jake started, stopping to turn to you, eyes earnest as they took you in. “I’m sorry about Mandy-”

“Oh, no, Jake,” you frowned, shaking your head. “You don’t have to apologize for her.”

“No, but I do,” he stated firmly, face serious as he looked at you. “It’s my fault she’s taking it out on you. She’s been so convinced that she and I are going to end up together, and now that she knows that’s not the case, she’s on the warpath.”

“Jake,” you sighed, “I understand feeling some kind of weird responsibility for her, but her actions are her own. You shouldn’t have to apologize on her behalf. She’s a big girl just like I am, right? We’re adults who are capable of making our own decisions and apologizing for the wrong we do. None of this is your fault.”

He didn’t look convinced, and you took his hand in yours to offer him some kind of reassurance. A bolt of electricity ran through you, causing you to let out a gasp, and a warmth rushed over you, causing you to squirm. You felt like a magnet, drawn to Jake in a way that you couldn’t even begin to understand. You wanted to feel more of him, to consume and be consumed by him. You had never felt anything like it in your life, and you looked up at him hazy eyes to find that he wasn’t any better off.

His own eyes had a haze to them, seeming to glow in the moonlight. His breathing came out labored, almost like he was fighting to maintain his composure. His eyes raked over you, a hand coming up to rest on your cheek, and you nuzzled into it without thinking.

“You’re so pretty,” he breathed, voice barely above a whisper as he inched closer to you.

“You’re just saying that,” you muttered, leaning into him.

“No,” he stated firmly, causing you to jump just a hair. His other hand came up to rest on your hip, pulling you closer so that you were practically molded against him.

“No,” he said again, gentler this time. “I mean it. You are the most beautiful thing I’ve ever laid my eyes on.”

If it were possible, you were sure your skin would have heated up even more than it already was. As it stood, a pleasant warmth spread through you at his proximity, and the hand that was cradling your cheek slowly drifted down until it brushed the mark on your neck. You let out a wanton cry at the shock of pleasure that jolted through you at the simple touch, and Jake smirked down at you, stroking softly over the mark again and again as he drew more pleasured cries from you.

“It’s okay,” he cooed, leaning his forehead against yours, nuzzling his nose against the tip of yours. “I’ve got you.”

You couldn’t find it in you to feel embarrassed at the intense amount of pleasure you felt at the simplest of touches, too focused on the way his hands felt on you. You raised your own, one hand cradling his cheek as the other ran through his golden hair. He let out a groan as you tugged gently on the soft strands, and you couldn’t help the small smirk that spread across your face. Jake’s eyes met yours, the green of them so intense that it took your breath away. He glanced down at your lips, slowly leaning in-

“Jacob Seresin!”

You gasped, grasping at your ears at the almost inhuman shriek that pierced the night air. Jake pulled back, placing you almost protectively behind him. You peered around him to see Mandy glaring at him, blue eyes practically glowing with rage. Her gaze turned to you, and you shrank back slightly, hiding behind Jake a little more. This only served to make Mandy even more irate, and she snarled as she stomped closer to the two of you.

Jake bristled, standing taller as he continued to block you from Mandy’s warpath.

“How dare you,” she spat at him, lips pulled back into a sneer. “You’re mine.”

“No,” Jake growled, “I’m not.”

You shifted behind him, moving out from behind him slowly, and the pair turned to look at you. You gave them a sheepish smile, as you inched around Mandy, hands up in a form of surrender.

“I’m just going to head back so you two can talk in private,” you murmured. Jake looked like he wanted to argue, but Mandy’s glare had you moving before he could say anything.

You wrapped your arms around yourself as you walked back towards the bonfires, already missing Jake’s touch. You had never felt anything so intense in your entire life, and you wondered what had come over you to make you act so brazenly. You weren’t one for hookups, but you weren’t even sure that’s what that was going to be. He had held you so gently, like you might break or run away at any moment. You had been so ready to give him every part of you in that moment. You knew you should have been worried at that thought, but a large part of you thought that it felt right, that you should give yourself to him. The more you thought about it, the more you found yourself wanting to turn around and go back to him.

You were about halfway back down the beach when it started. It was quiet at first, distant. But then it grew louder, and you found yourself slowing to a stop, turning towards the crashing waves to your left.

The song was beautiful, melancholic. It was unlike the one you had heard before, this one sounding more animal like than human, but you still found yourself drawn to it. It called to you, begging you to listen, and you did, feeling the sound drift through your mind and pulling you in. You weren’t sure when you started walking, but you felt the sand shift beneath your feet as you slowly made your way towards the water. The fires faded from your sight, the churning waves beckoning to you like gentle hands that promised refuge. The song grew louder, all consuming, blocking everything else out but the need to answer. You felt the wind whip your hair around you, the cold sting kissing your cheeks as the crashing waves grew louder, the song more desperate. The sand beneath your feet grew cold as you ventured into a spot where the water met the shoreline. You’re almost there, the song called to you. You felt a relieved smile tug on your lips at the thought of finally reaching your goal and answering the song. You felt the water come just up to your toes before retreating back. You closed your eyes in anticipation. Just one more step.

You let out a cry as you were yanked away from the water, a strong hand on your upper arm. Your arms reached for the water, your mind still foggy as a loud, keening cry sounded from the water before disappearing entirely. You whirled around to see Javy staring at you with an intense worry, Nat just behind him, worry clear on her face.

“Wha-” you mumbled, pressing a hand to the side of your head as it began to pound. “What happened? Javy?”

“Hey, Skipper,” he murmured gently, pulling you closer, away from the water. “We’ve been calling you for a while now. You okay?”

“I…” you trailed off, glancing between him and the water. “I’m not sure.”

“How about we get you some water, yeah?” Nat suggested, wrapping her arms around you as she led you back to the bonfires. You nodded slowly.

“Yeah,” you muttered, glancing back at the ocean. “Yeah, okay.”

Tag List: @jakeseresinlover @haley-hotchner @queerqueenlynn @dempy @fanficfandomlove @aworldwideapart @stoptaking-the-good-names @maximus890 @sky2nd @devil-angel-winchester @hopip99 @hookslove1592 @lemmons1998 @yuckosworld @uniquedreamlandcheesecake @imamomof8 @pietrothemovie @kmc1989 @mamachasesmayhem @hangmansgbaby @imnotcreativeenoughforthisblog @deliriousfangirl61 @hangmandruigandmav @na-ta-sh-aa @witchybabel @keyrani @i-wanna-be-your-muse @buckysteveloki-me @clancycucumber230 @dreamlandcreations @emotionallysalty @fandom-life-12 @a-girl-who-loves-disney @nouis-bum @topherwrites @squeaky-bumblbee22 @hangmansgbaby @goldenseresinretriever @bobgasm @linkpk88 @number-0-iz @xl-pr @stillreadingfantasy @shibble @horseshoegirl

[linorachas]

double the trouble (triple the fun) | seo changbin & han jisung

ᦈ pairing — changbin x reader x jisung, changbin x jisung ᦈ genre — smut ᦈ word count — 3.7k ᦈ tags— afab reader, best friends with benefits, dirty talk, exhibitionism, spitroasting, slight choking ᦈ notes — i was going to make chan the ex because apparently i cant live without mentioning chan but i was like omg i cant do that…. So headcanon that chan is the next boyfriend who treats u right. binsung are still Protective and Suspicious until one day chan meekly suggests a foursome and BAM theyre 100% convinced that hes The One

read on ao3 :3

“Jaesuk cheated on me.”

Music stops. A loud, obnoxious, automated voice announces Game over! just as Jisung drops his controller. Beside him, Changbin sets his phone down slowly.

“What?”

You look up from where you were picking vegetables out of your meal, blinking rapidly. “Um. Jaesuk cheated on me?”

“That lanky, ugly, bug-eyed son of a bitch cheated on you? On you?” 

Jisung’s voice gets louder with each word as he slowly rises from his seated position on the floor. His face was pinched, and for a second, he looked as if he was genuinely angry. Your lips twitch.

“Ugly? Didn’t you say he was cute when I first showed you his picture?”

Jisung scoffs. “I was lying out my ass, Y/N. What do you mean, he cheated on you?”

You sigh at that, setting down your fork. You had hoped the casual mention of your ex would explain why you haven't been with him for weeks, a concern Jisung himself raised a few days ago. You also knew, however, that your best friends were never the ones to let anything slip by so easily, especially when it came to you. So this was— as much as you hoped it wouldn’t be— expected.

“A few weeks ago, we had a fight over something stupid and had a pretty bad argument about it. I went over to his place to work things out because I felt bad that I’ve been giving him the silent treatment. Caught him pants down with another girl in the hallway. According to his neighbor, that wasn’t the only girl he’s fucked out in the open.”

You relay the story lazily, all while looking for the packet of soy sauce you had seen Changbin toss away earlier. You don’t notice Jisung and Changbin’s faces get even more furious with every word.

Changbin, who had been quiet the entire time, finally speaks up. “I’m going to kill him.”

“Huh?” You look up, soy sauce packet between your teeth. “Whaft? ”

Your eyes widen when Changbin actually gets up and snatches his car keys on the table, then heads for the door where his shoes were lined up. You panic even more when he actually laces up his shoes, and it’s only then that it hits you.

He was actually angry. Like Angry angry.

“Jisung, stop hi-“ You start, panicked face turning towards Jisung, but you stumble back a step when you notice he was fuming too.

His jaw was clenched, eyes furious as he glared holes somewhere on the floor. He paid no attention to Changbin, who was actually turning the knob on the front door now and holy shit-

“I can’t bail you out of jail!” 

You exclaim as you rush over, pressing your body between Changbin and the door. You let out a sigh of relief when it slams shut behind you, but Changbin doesn’t seem too happy about it.

“Y/N,” he sighs, voice clipped. “Move.”

“No, what the hell- Bin, are you serious?” You huff, placing a hand on Changbin’s cheek. 

His narrowed eyes avoid yours. You knew that Changbin never wanted you to see him when he was angry, and the fact that he didn’t want to make eye contact with you right now proved to you how serious the situation actually was. He might actually kill Jaesuk.

“Let him be.” Jisung cuts in. He was still frowning, but his eyes cooly met yours as he dropped down on the couch, leaning back to rest his arm on the backside. “I’ll bail him out.”

You stare. Jisung stares back, undeterred. 

It’s tense in the room.

After a beat, you purse your lips. “You couldn’t even afford rent last month.”

Jisung lets out a scoff as he turns away, but you snort internally when you see his slowly reddening ears. Changbin’s lips are quirked as he turns to look at Jisung too, but he immediately schools his expression back into indifference when you face him. You raise an eyebrow in challenge.

“And you’re not killing anyone. Between us three, I’m the one who would most likely commit a murder. Not you two. So go sit back down and-” you grunt as you push Changbin back with both hands to his chest— which felt like a rock solid wall, mind you—  but you falter when he doesn’t even move an inch.

Hands gently clasp your wrists.

“He hurt you.”

You freeze. Slowly looking up, you find Changbin gazing down at you. He looked almost… upset now, and you coo.

“Oh no, Bin, he didn’t-”

“Y/N, you were still in a relationship when he got his small dick wet and not to mention how shitty he’s been treating you this past month! How could h-”

“Changbin.” You hiss, and he immediately shuts up. You soften when you see his eyebrows furrow, clearly upset about the situation. You take his hands in yours and squeeze. 

“I would have had to care about him enough for him to hurt me. I’m not hurt, Bin, I promise. I’m just— pissed.” You swallow, shifting nervously on your feet. Jisung gets up then, sidling up next to Changbin. He tucks a strand of your hair behind your ear, and you flash him a grateful smile. “I’m angry at myself for wasting so much time on the asshole. I’m angry at him for stringing me along. I’m angry that I spent so much time with him when I could have spent it on better people like—” you sniffle, “—like you guys.”

“I’m not hurt,” you reassure them once again, frowning. “If I have the chance to punch him in the face I’d gladly take it, but most of all, I’m just- I just want to move on.”

Jisung makes a noise at the back of his throat, and you’re not even given a warning when he goes behind you to pull you into a backhug, face nuzzling into your hair. You giggle when he presses a kiss to your shoulder. 

Changbin pulls your attention back to him with two fingers under your chin. 

“Then let's do it. Jisung and I will hold him down and you can punch him all you like.”

You laugh, and at that, Changbin finally softens. 

“I’m being serious.” He still says, but there’s a smile tugging at his lips. You grin.

“I know you are. But that’s assault, and I am not stooping that low. Especially not with you guys. The thought of giving him more attention just pisses me off even more. I want to forget about him, okay? Pretend he never existed in my life, and that I never met him. Let’s just— let him be. Karma will get to him.”

Jisung huffs. “Not even a little kick to the balls would help?”

You snort. “Not even a little kick to the balls, Sungie. But you know what would help?”

They both perk up. 

You smile, slow and mischievous as you tug Changbin closer. “A club.”

Two simultaneous groans. 

You laugh. “Oh, come on! I’m brokenhearted, you have to adhere to my requests! Oh help, I need to be cured right now!”

Changbin huffs out a laugh, somewhere between exasperated and fond. You giggle, letting go of his hands to wrap your arms around his neck, Jisung still clinging at your waist.

“Come on, Binnie, pleaaaase? Just a few dances to get my mind off it. I won’t even drink, you guys can drink all you want, I’ll get us all home safe, please please please- ”

“Okay, alright, christ-” Changbin groans, but he’s grinning as he brushes the hair away from your face. “None of us are drinking. We’ll just dance and have fun.” 

“Dance and have fun. Yes. Uh huh. Thank you.” You smack a long kiss to Changbin’s cheek before you turn to face Jisung, who was pouting. 

You put your arms around his shoulder. “You don’t want to go to the club with us?”

“There’s a tournament,” Jisung starts, eyes flickering towards the console, but he falters when he sees you blinking up at him. “I…”

Jisung’s eyes quickly dart behind you to where Changbin was, but unbeknownst to you, Changbin already had both hands up in surrender, mouthing I can’t help you. I’m weak.

“You…?”

So Jisung shuts his mouth with a smile, hands squeezing your waist. “That I can join next week. Alright, to the club! Come on, Y/N. Wanna pick what I should wear?”

You grin in triumph, letting Jisung pull you to his bedroom as Changbin follows suit with a defeated smile on his face. 

The night was still young. You weren’t going to let Jaesuk ruin the mood, and a night of dancing could fix that. 

Luckily for you, Changbin and Jisung were more than willing to help.

You don’t know how it happens, but an hour later finds you squeezed between Changbin and Jisung.

You’re not drunk. You’re barely even tipsy, having only just drank one beer. But the heat inside the club was affecting you. You were safe, content and happy between your best friends, what more could you ask for?

It’s reminiscent of your position by the door earlier, but this time it’s a lot less wholesome and a lot more— ah.

“Jisung,” You gasp when you feel another mark sucked on your neck, teeth nibbling one of your most sensitive spots. Shivers wrack your body. “Jesus. Are you teething?”

Changbin snorts at that, but his eyes are busy watching Jisung. “He’s not teething. He’s staking a claim.”

You raise a brow, grinding back into Jisung’s clothed cock at the words. Jisung grunts in your ear. “Oh? Letting everybody in the club know that I’m yours?”

You squeak when you’re suddenly spun around, stumbling back into Changbin’s hard chest. He catches you easily though, one of his warm hands sliding up your top and another sliding down to your hips. You shiver again when his nails scratch against your tummy.

Jisung, who was now in front of you, stalks closer, and your breath hitches when he stops just an inch away from your lips.

With a smirk, he says, “that you’re ours.”

And just as Jisung crashes his lips onto yours, another set of lips starts leaving wet, heated kisses on your neck. It trails higher, up to your cheek, to your jaw, and all the way to your ear.

There, Changbin whispers, confident and smug. “And we’re taking you home tonight.”

It’s fleeting, the brush of a hand between your thighs, but it’s enough to shock your eager body and make you moan Changbin’s name into Jisung’s mouth. 

“Wrong,” Jisung whispers after he sucks on your bottom lip, letting it go with a teasing bite. “That was me. Guess we’re gonna have a little game then, huh?”

“No more games.” You whine, pressing back into Changbin, who was sucking in sharp breaths as he ground against your ass. “Don’t care whose it is. I want you both, and I want you now. Please.”

Jisung huffs at the lack of attention, pressing his own clothed cock against the front of your thigh as well, and just the feeling of being sandwiched between the two has your body tingling all the way to your fingertips. 

You’re just about to pull Jisung into another messy kiss when Changbin stops the both of you by a hand to your neck, pulling you towards him gently. 

You gulp at the feeling of his fingers around your throat, and Changbin’s eyes distractedly watch your slick mouth, but he still manages to get out, “Home. Let’s get you home, and we’ll give you what you want. Sound good?”

“Sounds great.” You croak out, still frozen at the feel of Changbin’s hand around your neck. Changbin seems to have noticed this, and his eyes darken when you moan at a slight squeeze that he does.

Jisung, already impatient, tugs you out of Changbin’s grasp with a possessive hand to your waist. 

“Later.” He promises both of you, and you and Changbin both straighten up. “Home, now.”

You nod, blinking out of your daze, but your body still reacts when Changbin slides a hand up your back as he and Jisung lead you to the exit. They flank you on both sides, side-eyeing anyone who so much as looks at you. 

It’s a blur on the way back to Changbin and Jisung’s apartment, but you were hyper aware of where their hands were. 

Changbin had wrapped an arm around your waist as soon as you had slid into the middle seat, and soon enough his fingers were trailing goosebump-inducing patterns under your shirt again. At one point he reaches the edge of your bra, and you bite your lip when he teasingly kneads under it. You send him a sharp look, gesturing to the driver. 

All Changbin does is smirk in return.

Jisung, on the other hand, was gazing out the window and enjoying the scenery that you know he’s seen a million times, but his hand was busy sliding between your thighs. You jolt every time he gets a little too close to where you needed him most, and you glare when he quickly pulls his hand away with a knowing grin. He then lets his fingers scratch the inside of your inner thigh, and it gets so ticklish and hard to hold back the sounds that you have to stop him with a hand to his wrist and a pointed look. 

Jisung merely takes your hand off, and continues.

You squirm in the backseat, getting wetter with each caress the two made. You don’t make a sound, but your heavy breathing was probably obvious at one point, because you meet eyes with the driver in the rearview mirror, and he looked concerned. You flush red and try to hide your face by burying it against Changbin’s shoulder.

A coo. “You alright? Drank too much?”

“Shut up,” You hiss, but end up snapping your mouth shut when Changbin quickly but surely fondles one of your breasts through your bra. He slides a thumb under the cup to teasingly flick your nipple, then slides his hand back down to your waist, like nothing had happened. 

“Bin-” you whine in his shoulder, and he chuckles. 

“Almost there, baby. Just a few more minutes.”

And then, in a split second, fingers rub at your clothed pussy.

Your gasp quickly turns into a moan, which Changbin covers up by cooing louder and pressing your face against his neck. 

“Shhh, it’s okay,” Changbin soothes, “we’re almost home. I know your head hurts, but you can puke there.”

“Ah,” The driver speaks up, seemingly understanding now. “Please don’t get vomit in my car, I can pull over if-”

“Oh, no, it’s okay, thank you, she’s just-”

As Changbin converses with the driver, Jisung continues his relentless rubbing. He finds your clit easily, and you moan soundlessly against Changbin’s neck as your hips buck. Jisung holds your hips down with his other hand.

“You’re alright,” Changbin mutters down at you, cupping your cheek tenderly, but out of the driver’s sight, he’s sliding his thumb between your parted lips, pad pressing down on your tongue. “You’re doing so well.”

You were so wet now, and you knew Jisung could feel it too, considering he kept brushing over the wet spot that has seeped into your panties. You squirm, hoping to get him back to your clit, but you freeze when his fingers slide under your underwear and fuck-

“Jisung-” you start, moaning muffled against Changbin’s thumb, but Changbin cuts you off. 

“-is right there. Don’t worry, he’s safe. He’s coming with us.” 

“I’m right here, Y/N.” Jisung pipes in casually, like he wasn’t sliding the pads of his fingers up and down your labia, teasingly circling your clit and dipping the tips of his two fingers in your hole. “Are you hungry? Cause I am.”

You shake in Changbin’s arms. He laughs.

You’re just about to cum when the car suddenly stops, and a keen bubbles out your throat when Jisung pulls his fingers away, upset at having your orgasm be taken away from you. You’re in a daze as Changbin helps you out of the car, leaving Jisung to pay. You hoped he left a good tip.

It doesn’t take long for the three of you to stumble inside the boys’ apartment, tearing at each other's clothes as you go inside the nearest bedroom. 

Jisung makes quick work of opening you up as you leant back against Changbin’s chest, his fingers stretching your walls. You moan against Changbin’s lips, unsure whether to pull away from the fast thrusting of Jisung’s fingers or push into Changbin’s hands which were kneading your breasts.

“Come here, baby.” Jisung finally pulls his fingers out, kneeling in the middle of the bed as he holds his cock in his hand.

You crawl toward him, mouth opening automatically. Jisung groans, slapping his drooling cockhead on your outstretched tongue. 

“That’s it, let me see you take my cock in your pretty little mouth. That’s a good little slut…”

Jisung slowly guides his cock into your waiting mouth at the same time Changbin lines himself up behind you, and you gasp when the head pushes inside.

You pull of Jisung’s cock and gasp. “You’re so big, Bin- wait-”

You and Changbin both groan as you convulse around him. Changbin doesn’t move, letting you adjust to his massive size. Jisung, however, was too impatient. He drags your mouth back onto his dick with a grunt.

“Shit. Jaesuk missed out on this?” Changbin mutters mostly to himself once he starts fucking into you, each thrust pushing you forward onto Jisung’s cock.

“Fucking loser,” Jisung says in reply, gathering your hair in his hands he thrusts in and out of your slick mouth too. “Doesn’t know what he let go.”

You flush at both their words and actions, pleasure coursing through your body on both ends. You let Jisung fuck your mouth, too overwhelmed to keep bobbing your head with how good Changbin was fucking you. 

Jisung must have been more worked up than you thought, because he suddenly pulls away. You let out a displeased whine, wanting him back in your mouth, but he just tuts as he holds you up by the hair.

“Not yet. Be good for hyung, alright?”

At the words, Changbin stops, flips you over, and immediately starts fucking you again. He wraps your legs around his waist, and your blink in surprise when his hand slides up to wrap around your throat.

“Changbin,” You choke out a gasp, fingers clawing at Changbin’s wrist as he squeezes your throat. “Oh, fuck- fuck-”

His pace is relentless; your hips were hanging mid-air from how much he’s lifted you, and you were basically perched on his thighs. You almost black out when he squeezes your throat once, feeling lightheaded from the cock pounding into you and the lack of air.

Behind you, Jisung shudders at the sight.

You reach for him weakly, wanting to get a hand on him. He obliges almost immediately, kneeling beside your head as he strokes his cock to your gasps and Changbin’s grunts. You manage to wrap a clumsy wrap around him, and though it was almost useless, Jisung still moans loud.

“You’re so- fucking- wet.” Changbin gasps, fingers tightening from where it was wrapped around your ankle. “Fuck, baby, Jisung could slip in here with how wet you are.”

Changbin and Jisung don’t miss the way you jerk at that, getting even tighter at the thought. You feel the tips of your ears burn, but Changbin just smirks. “Oh? You like that?”

You don’t expect to his slide down after that, finger trailing over your entrance where his cock was still fucking in and out of you. It only takes a little push, and his finger slips inside.

“Are you fucking crazy-” You hiss, but there’s no denying the way you clench around Changbin’s cock and finger. You moan even louder when he starts moving it along with his cock, feeling like you’re about to lose your mind.

“Fuck,” Changbin and Jisung both exhale, mesmerized. 

Jisung was so close that every time he thrust, his cock would bump against your cheek and sometimes your lips. You move your head close so his cock slides against your lips, and Jisung almost doubles over.

“Hyung,” Jisung whines suddenly, and you blink, confused, but then Changbin pulls Jisung into a kiss and your world shakes.

You and Jisung moan at the same time, Jisung’s cock twitching in your hand. He’s gotten so wet that you hear a squelch every time he bucks into your hand.

Jisung melts in Changbin’s hold, something you understand all too well. Out of the three of you, Changbin was the best kisser. He had a way of pulling you into a kiss so hypnotizing it leaves you breathless and boneless at the same time. 

The sight of your two best friends gasping into each other's mouths was enough to push you to the edge. You couldn’t even warn them as you finally cum, toes curling as you convulse around Changbin’s cock.

Jisung follows soon after, pulling away from Changbin’s lips just to hide his face in Changbin’s neck, shuddering as he cums. He sprays directly into your mouth, but his hips stutter, so some of his cum gets onto your cheek and neck.

Changbin, with one arm around Jisung’s waist, pulls his cock and finger out of you with a groan and starts jerking himself off. He keeps your legs spread, and he watches with lidded eyes as your hole spasms around nothing. 

With Jisung’s cock in your hand, his cum on your face, and Jisung’s face in his neck, Changbin finally cums on your stomach with a shuddering breath.

The three of you collapse on the bed soon after, sweaty and sticky. You were so content to just bask in the silence and heavy breathing, but you just had to ask.

“Since when-” You sit up and gesture to Changbin and Jisung, but you don’t finish your sentence. 

Jisung flushes up to the tips of his ears and hides his face in the pillow. Changbin laughs into your shoulder.

“Since now. We’ll talk about it later.”

“Wah,” you exhale and lie back down on the bed, letting Changbin and Jisung cuddle up to you on either side. “Thank fucking god Jaesuk cheated on me then.”

“Yah-”

“Don’t say that! I’m still going to kill him.”

You squeak when Changbin pinches your waist, but you still feel their smiles on your skin. You giggle.

Getting fucked by your best friends definitely helped you get over your stupid ex.

[theysaidhush]

⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒

Chapter 1: Animal Farm

Pairing: Stray Kids x 9th member!OFC

Warnings:

I'll say this only once, this is the only warning you'll get. Future chapters will contain lot of smut (eventually) angst and fluff. Heavy topics will be discussed (idol life y'know) but I don't wanna spoil it. This story isn't for sensitive person? I don't know how to put it. Just don't read if you think you'll feel uncomfortable!

This is a x OC but will be tagged as a x Reader. I find it difficult to write properly about a character while worrying about making it inclusive and fitting my story. I don't really care about her name or physical apparence though so if you have any suggestion I'm up for it.

No pressure chill under the trees. Updates will not be regular as this story is solely for my entertainment and whenever I feel like writing it. Means that I'll keep on posting even if I don't have any feedbacks but also means that chapter lengths will vary to very short to more words. You can have many chapters the same day, depends on my life, but I don't really like short chapter so ill do my best.

"I am not being a pain in the ass."

"Yes you are."

"You kinda are."

Minho sent a chilling glance to the boy who was curled up next to him on the living room's couch. It was enough for Jisung to shudder. But the topic was serious, he wasn't about to change his opinion just because his hyung was giving him that look.

"No seriously, you really are."

"Okay."

Minho smiled and kept on doing what he was doing on his phone, ignoring everyone's stare - Jisung's stare particularly. The younger boy was looking intently at him, he was waiting for something, something he was sure his hyung would do. And he did. Like three minutes after. He blew through his nose, still looking at his screen.

"Ah! I knew it!"

"I really don't understand what's the problem. Has she done anything to upset you? We can talk it out like adults."

The couple on the couch looked up from each other and Minho stared at Chan intently yet silently. The leader couldn't really tell what was on the dancer's mind, and it was upsetting him to no extent. Any other day he would have brushed it off as Minho being Minho. The latter was a great friend, he almost considered him his brother, despite not knowing on the tip of his fingers the boy's small quirks and habits. It was a Jisung thing. But now, more than never, he wished he could know him a bit more, he wished for the other boy to let him in.

"I don't want to talk it out with you."

"Minho..."

Jisung's hush whispers was not a warning, yet, it felt like one. He was not scolding his Hyung, he was just trying to appease the tension. Chan's face was contorted in what people would consider anger, but Jisung knew better. He was frustrated.

"This is about the whole group, not just me. I didn’t come to you as a friend, Minho, I'm here as a leader."

And it might have not been the right thing to say. Because Minho frowned, and retreated into silence.

"What a mess." was Jisung's thoughts, his eyes drifting toward his leader’s, whose head was turned toward a silhouette standing in the hallway.

"No. You can't do this to us."

"You don't have a choice."

"We do! It's my group, our group, we've worked so hard to reach our goals and create the music that will fit us!"

Chan did not know what was more upsetting at the moment; the fact that he was having this conversation while he was sleep deprived - he would blame himself for that latter, saying that it was the reason he couldn't plead their case better - or the fact that he was even having this conversation.

"They've let you do your things, you know that Chan."

"No, they gave up on us, so we had to fight our way to the top! That's what happened."

The word 'top' was a far too big word for Chan, but one he had to use nonetheless to prove his case. They were enough. They were just fine.

"They..." his manager sighed and pinched his nose. The situation was getting out of hands and even he could not do a thing about it. But at the the end of the day, his job was on the line, and he had a family to feed. "They threatened to disband the group if you don't agree to the term."

"Just fine by then! We'll go elsewhere and keep on doing music together."

"You don't understand Chan, think it through! This is not a GOT7 type of situation, they'll take Stray Kids' name, your music, your brand and all that you've accomplished by yourself, and if you do try to prosecute them you'll lose. I've read the contracts, everyone's contract. You can't refuse."

"I can't - " Chan laughed and sat on his chair, running his hands on his face. "This is disgusting and despicable."

"I know, Chan, I'm sorry."

"They just want to make publicity, it'll bury us."

"I know..."

It was a one in a life time opportunity, the young woman really and truly understood that. She was considered too old to even sit in that room, she was told countless times. Yet, it did not change the fact that she was sitting in that room. The room where all important decisions were made.

She felt uncomfortable, growing uneasy, fighting the urge to scratch her skin off - one bad old habit. Her choices, her decisions; all of those were flashing in her mind like a broken tape, image and pictures of the times she spent practicing to be here - not that much, if you ask her.

Those people stare - those important people's stare was making her fidget in her sit, avoid eye contact. Were they testing her? Waiting for a particular reaction, the one which could get her out of here in a matter of seconds? The room was feeling too warm, she will sweat buckets if she doesn't go out. Right now.

"There you go. Miss?"

They did not even knew her name. It was a bit disappointing, but then again, she was just another someone wandering between those halls, wasn't she?

"Athéna."

"A- Axina..?"

"More like, Ah-thé-nah." she corrected their pronunciation with a soft voice, continuing, "You can google it."

But their glare was enough for her to shut her mouth and look at the ceiling. It was a fool idea to correct them, they were older, knew much more things than her. It was a little unnerving, this whole elder situation was a lot to get accustomed to in South Korea.

"Axina. Have you read the terms and condition of the contract?"

"I have."

"Any reclamation?"

She wanted to laugh at their face, but she couldn't. She did not had it in her to do that. So she nodded, pretending to be genuinely interested by their answer, even if she quite knew what they would say.

"Regarding the whole part of you managing my...image. I'd like to know if it concerns my hair too?"

"Yes, obviously. And your weight too."

Freezing cold in her bones. Was it because the window was opened? Or was it their stares? It was chilling nonetheless. It was sending her back into a period of her life where she had looked at her reflection days and nights to get a glimpse of her ribs and be satisfied with the view.

"Oh."

"You'll have to work on your Korean too, your pronunciation isn't that good."

"What are you?" another one asked, shifting through the page of the contract she had signed.

What she was. Not who. Not her nationality. But what.

"I'm French, mister."

"Great, it'll help with publicity oversea. Are you fluent in English?"

Why was she having this discussion with them?Wasn't she supposed to talk to the manager and the team helping Stray Kids? Why was she sitting in front of JYP's shareholder.

"I'm almost fluent. I've learned while traveling."

"What a shame. If she was prettier we could have scored partnerships with French luxury brands such as Dior or Channel."

"She'll be perfect for the role that will be given to her."

"I guess so."

"We're done with you."

Was it an animal farm? She never felt that disturbed by a conversation in her whole life. She shuddered, getting up from her sit as she grabbed the hem of her sweatshirt to pull on the lose strands. She couldn't help herself but rock back and forth on her feet - another bad habit of her that some even called weird.

"And stop doing that it's weird."

Chapter 2

[heartscrypt]

wip review wednesday (it is not fucking wednesday)

rb the art im talking abt here to support me : )

i wanted to do something a lil new and actually talk through my choices in the artwork in the post so like if you're not here for commentary. i put everything under a read more!!!!

ok so here's a basic breakdown of what everyone is doing in the piece. or supposed to be doing. you can zoom in on shit to verify if u want

jamiazu: obviously jamil is beating azul at ddr. less obviously azul is sweating because this is actually not the first round of ddr. he has lost horribly in two other rounds but he's not giving up (he should give up)

tweels: they're both judging azul because they know he's horrible at cardio so what in the world is that boy doing on that dance machine. jade is making snide remarks about azul's lack of balance behind his hand and floyd's listening in amusement

adeucepel: epel just won an impossible amount of tickets at skeeball. apparently his aim is really good thanks to some carnival game in his home town. deuce is being excitedly supportive and helping him gather the tickets. ace is arguing that he should get a share because he totally helped epel score (he didn't)

rookvil: they're looking at the ticket prizes. vil is scrutinizing the cheap mass produced quality. rook is just happy to have his arm around her waist and equally happy to listen to her sharp criticism. shes so beautiful when shes annoyed♥️

diasomnia: silver is attempting to figure out the card machine in order to get a play card for malleus. malleus was not told that they were going to the arcade (hes definitely not dressed for it) but is honestly happy to just be there and is volunteering to try his hand at the machine (five seconds after this scene he will break it on accident). sebek is running over to yell at silver for not being able to figure out the card machine (he's also not able to figure it out). lilia is watching his kids from the inside of a ghostbusters shooter booth game. you know the ones

idikei: idia is destroying some zombies in a shooter game. cater is actually not playing. he's got his phone in his hand and he's just talking At idia while idia plays

ruggie: he's actually judging jamil. raising his eyebrows at jamil even bothering to play against azul who is clearly not even at his skill level. bro this is not even fair game

part of my art process for this piece was getting outfit suggestions from my friends so to everyone who complimented the outfit choices in the tags im pulling back the curtains. i have a million mice running around in my brain (my friends). here are some funny snippets (i did not put idia in a squid games shirt. i did give him crocs though)

[hgejfmw-hgejhsf]

Find the Words!

Thank you @anincompletelist and @theprinceandagcd for two tags in this game!

*cracks knuckles* Let's see what my WIPs have, shall we?

My words are: make, hide, square, edge, atmosphere

AND

hope, smooth, skin, water, paper

After the cut for length and suggestibility (on a couple)

Word: make WIP: Henry hurt/comfort

“I think,” Alex starts, wondering if this is one of those moments that his mom meant about flying too close to the sun before he realizes that no, being in this car and leaving this way is. So he quickly adjusts course, “I’d like to go back. To make sure Henry’s okay.”

Word: hide WIP: A deleted scene from Take Your Time

You’re the sun. Shining your warmth down on the icy waters. Bringing an end to the darkness. But also shedding light on the destruction that has been wrought. I strayed from the light for so long because I feared what I would see when I could no longer hide behind the excuse of blindness to the truth of my own existence. Cold-hearted. Turning back all who venture near out of fear. And now I realize precisely what that all means. I’m not the unsinkable ship. I’m the iceberg.

Word: square WIP: None of the above, I'm afraid haha

Word: edge WIP: The Notebook AU

“What the fuck is all this security doing here?” Alex asks as June blows a kiss to Nora that she catches and apparently uses as some sort of secret fuel for her bumper car, jettisoning it head-on into the wall and screaming as she does it. He glances at the surrounding perimeter along the edge of the carnival, security guards in suits with earpieces like something straight out of a spy movie standing unmoving nearby.

Word: atmosphere WIP: Also none of the above!

Word: hope WIP: DNC fill-in-the-blanks

It remains even after collapsing, physically and mentally spent, into sheets that are not his own, and sliding his own calloused fingers over his bare skin in the desperate hope that the memory of Henry’s soft fingers playing a muted melody over his ribs might come back to him. It lingers despite the sight of Henry’s face, pixelated and blurry in the dark of the night on his phone screen, enough to make him come with just a few strokes of his hand at the tenor of Henry’s voice. It hums through his body, until he has no choice but to seek refuge against the closest nearby structure to regain his composure, for every single second that all six of the senses he was blessed with aren’t filled with Henry.

Word: smooth WIP: Lake house 5+1

The sun is just beginning to start its descent to the horizon for its well earned slumber after another perfectly dazzling summer day spent bringing new freckles to life as previously undiscovered landmarks on a map of soft, smooth skin, dancing in narrowed blue eyes rarely unhidden from behind dark glasses, and bleaching already golden hair to a resplendent color unnamed by nature. Alex lounges on the hammock, drifting somewhere in that blissful heaven between sleep and waking, when you can feel the breeze on your skin as your subconscious slowly concocts the perfect dream of long legs and nimble fingers and effervescent laughter. Henry lies beside him, his sun kissed skin warm against Alex’s leg, an anchor to the consciousness he can slowly feel slipping away with each passing moment.

Word: skin WIP: Drunk Me

But privately, he wondered if he’d ever have the chance to meet the boy who he so deeply admired for his ability to exist entirely beneath the world’s spotlight without so much as a flinch to indicate that it ever made him uncomfortable. Alex, on the other hand, had taken to pressing his lips to the key around his neck before each public appearance, a grounding technique that reminded him he always had a quiet home to return to when all was said and done. Henry, on the other hand, had nothing but palaces behind wrought iron gates. He hoped maybe someday they could be friends, and maybe he could even show Henry where he grew up. The Texas sun on his skin would definitely be warmer than the glow of ancient chandeliers.

Word: water WIP: Alex's bedroom canon divergence (movieverse)

He smirks at that thought. At Henry, standing in a steaming shower, with water dripping from his golden hair and collecting in dewdrops on his eyelashes, the suds from whatever expensive body wash he uses that keeps him smelling like clean linens and fresh grass even in the dead of winter sliding over his bare skin to reveal 10 small purple bruises in the shape of Alex’s fingertips. A part of Alex he won’t be able to wash away as easily as buttercream melts and slips down a drain.

Word: paper WIP: NYE Get Low Alex POV (movieverse)

“I’d be a writer…live in Paris,” Henry explains, and it suddenly makes so much sense. Like a piece of a puzzle sliding perfectly into place and revealing an entirely new image. Alex can see Henry, the same Henry who waxes poetic about Byron’s poetry for as long as Alex will tolerate and then some, sitting inside a coffee shop in Paris with a stack of paper and a pen, scribbling furiously, his eyes bright and alive with the same passion Alex can sense when he speaks of the work of other famous writers. Alex can’t help but smile at the thought.

I'm going to make this an OPEN tag, because I know a lot of people have already been tagged, and I don't want y'all to feel overwhelmed by all the words! @kiwiana-writes as the person I know with the most WIP options, you know you're always open to do this...but only if you want!

The words the random generator came up with are: proud, ceaseless, worried, dark, and pointless.

[cherrycheolcoups]

s.coups fic preview!

a/n: so i am currently in the middle of typing a seungcheol x fem!reader fic and i figured i'd give everyone a preview lol. it's my first kpop fic so i honestly hope it goes well and is well received. i'm just really in love with seungcheol sigh so have some of my cheol brainrot!

edit: i tagged all the members because of the fact that some are mentioned in this preview, but i do plan on having all of them show up/appear in the fic! it was not my intention to clog up the tags with it sooooooooo

summary: you and seungcheol are always doing things together, acting like the parents of the group, etc. it's a given that everyone thinks you're a married couple, yet you're not really a married couple...are you?

a/n: so i was looking for prompts and saw this one while scrolling through @creativepromptsforwriting's blog. it honestly seemed like a cute idea so i wanted to give it a go lol. i'm also going to be updating more regularly now [i hope] i've just been in a big seungcheol mood lately and have been really soft for him lately so have some reader x seungcheol.

warnings: some swearing, maybe some suggestive tones. i think that's it? LOTS OF FLUFF OMGGGGGG

pairing: choi seungcheol/s.coups x fem!reader [the mom and dad of the group]

my masterlist here! more to come soon!

if you like it, please feel free to leave suggestions, requests, etc.! :)

preview under the cut!

You didn't know quite when it had started, but you were basically an honorary leader for Seventeen. When the guys were having a hard time, or just needed some advice or pointers, they generally went to you. You guessed this was due to them not wanting to burden their actual leader and add more stress onto his plate. Really, you didn't mind this one bit. You actually felt a sense of pride and belonging with being this included by them.

Today seemed to be another one of those days for the guys. When you arrived at the dorms, arms filled with grocery bags, you could tell that they must have had a long day. The exhaustion was pretty evident, though they would most likely deny it if mentioned. Walking into the kitchen, you placed the bags on the counter, not noticing that Seungcheol was behind you, leaning against the door frame with his arms crossed. He honestly was going to offer a hand, since it was a lot of bags you were carrying, but it seemed like you had it handled.

You turned around, not expecting to see Seungcheol, making you jump just a little. At the sight of his gummy smile, you felt your lips tugging at the corners, happy to see your best friend after a long day. "You really didn't have to do all of this, you know?" The male spoke, a hint of a teasing glimmer in his eye. You shrugged, walking closer to him. "I know. I just like doing this for you guys," you responded, eyes locked onto Seungcheol's, you and him completely oblivious to the 12 members staring.

Apparently, the two of you were also oblivious to the closeness between you, the soft, fond look you gave each other. In the other room, Soonyoung and a couple of the others had their phones out, snapping a few pictures. Unfortunately for them, Soonyoung had made the small mistake of sending the photos to the shared groupchat, adding that "mom and dad are so in love" Upon seeing the text, Seungcheol sighed, turning to face the 12 members, giving them a stern look. All but Soonyoung, Jihoon, Yeonghan and Minghao bolted out of the room, not really wanting to face Seungcheol right now.

"Does anybody want to explain the text?" Seungcheol asked, quirking an eyebrow up at the four that remained, though he mainly kept his gaze on Soonyoung. The first one to speak up was Soonyoung, his squinted a bit. "Pft. What text, hyung?" The dancer had questioned, not really wanting to fess up as to why it was sent in the group chat, or why the photo was taken at all in the first place.

[diedraechin]

I got so hooked up with your snippet from Settling for Gold, sounds so interesting and a wonderful recipe for angst, so I wanted to ask the time settings. Like, what age do they have? I assume the Sochi banquet didn’t happened because Viktor thinks “Japanese boy”, but did Yuuri still had (or has) a crush on Viktor in this universe? And do you already have an idea of how Yuuri and Chris became a thing or is that more of a behind-the-scenes thing?

That were a lot of questions, sorry. Also, if you have another snipped you would like to share from SfG, I am here for it.

Settling for Gold takes place during the Sochi Olympics. :D So Viktor is 25, Chris turns 23 right in the middle of the Olympics, and Yuuri is 21.

Yuuri and Chris is a behind-the-scenes thing, but basically started as a one off friends with benefits hook-up, but come morning Chris was very "would like to sleep with again" and they already were friends, so he told Yuuri they should just date. And it didn't take long for Chris to really become smitten.

Because Yuuri = 💜💜💜

As for Yuuri's feeling toward Viktor in this universe... they're complicated. He definitely had a crush, probably still has a bit of a crush, but he's with Chris, and he likes Chris and Chris likes him. And it's easy to chalk up any interest Viktor shows in him to just wanting to get to know Chris's boyfriend.

“Hi! I’m Phichit Chulanont!” The young Thai man held out his hand and Viktor shook it.

“Nice to meet you. I’m--”

“Viktor Nikiforov! I know. Everyone knows.” Phichit grinned at him. “You’re also the other best friend.” His gaze flicked over to where Katsuki was apparently trying to teach Chris how to play some video game on one of the systems, but Chris’s hand kept wandering down to grab Katsuki’s ass which led to a hissed “Chris” before the Swiss skater apologized without meaning a single word before sliding his hand back up to Katsuki’s waist.  “Chris is either going to piss him off for not taking the game seriously or they’re going to leave before dinner. Any bets on which one it’ll be?” Phichit asked.

“Oh. Um…” Viktor had no clue. “Does Katsuki like video games that much?”

Phichit just blinked at him. “You can probably just call him Yuuri. I think he’d be a little weirded out to know that Chris’s best friend is still calling him Katsuki.”

For some reason, Viktor hadn’t realised that he was Chris’s best friend. Chris really was Viktor’s only friend even if he wasn’t just discussing friendships among skaters, so Viktor had never had to categorize Chris into a stronger category than just friend. It was startling. “Ah. Right,” is all Viktor said, however.

“And yeah, Yuuri likes video games. And he’s good at them. And scarily competitive at them. But then that’s true for everything regarding Yuuri.” Phichit was fiddling with his phone. “Hey, think I can get a selfie with you for instagram? It’s cool if you don’t want to, but I love the platform--”

“I do too. And sure! Let’s take a commemorative photo.”

So they did and looked at the picture. In the background Chris’s hand was clearly visible on Yuuri’s ass again, though Viktor didn’t remember hearing the hissed “Chris!” from the Japanese skater in the last few minutes.

“Um. Perhaps we should try a different angle?” Viktor suggested.

“Yeah. I think Yuuri would kill me if Chris groping him made it onto the internet. I mean he likes it,” Phichit wiggled his eyebrows, “Chris’s groping, I mean, but he’s kinda private and wouldn’t want it on my instagram.”

Phichit and Viktor walked around the lounge taking various selfies and discussing the finer points of the various filters for a good fifteen minutes before finally selecting a nice shot of the two of them, no groping couple in the background at all and posted it to their instagrams and tagging each other which Phichit said was amazing “because now I’m like on your instagram! So like there’s proof that I met you! And OMG, Leo is going to die! I bet Seung Gil will too, but he’ll be all stoic about it because like reasons. But sweet!”

And then they looked around for their friends.

Phichit shook his head. “They’re going to leave before dinner.” 

Viktor swallowed thickly, slightly uncomfortable. Yuuri had Chris pushed up against the wall next to the video game system they’d been playing on and was kissing him hard, fist gripping the front of Chris’s jacket, pulling his head down to Yuuri’s height and Viktor could make out the blush that covered Chris’s cheeks and was going down the back of Chris’s neck.

Viktor didn’t think that he’d ever seen Chris blush that much before.

[kithtaehyung]

hush, yeah? 1 | kth

series: hush, yeah?  pairing: taehyung x reader(f) genre: brother’s best friend au, music festival au ; angst(?), smut summary: the innocent accident that started it all warnings: groping, tension, pussy play, public smut, inadvertent edging, language, taehyung’s an asshole lol notes: thank you endlessly to @missgeniality​ @sunshinekims​ and @taegularities​ for being fantastic betas! your general hype, suggestions, and comments mean the world to me. taglist is under the cut and is still open! word count: 5.7k rating: m

m.list | part 1 | part 2

-

-

“Why do I have to sit in the back?”

“We set these rules from the beginning! Whoever showed up last gets the last row.”

“But it wasn’t my fault!”

“Just hurry up and get in. We’re already behind schedule.” 

From your seat in the dreaded third row of the SUV rental, you slumped over the window tray and watched your brother’s friends bicker, as if nothing had changed after years of being apart. Not that their petty spat meant anything to you.

In fact, you were pretty preoccupied with an argument of your own: your best friend that definitely said they were coming on this trip had suddenly bailed. Something to do with her new flame? Whatever it was, it was utter bullshit. 

Regardless, that left you with your stupid brother and his even stupider band of friends as you headed to a music festival a handful of hours over. 

Your brother’s long time friend, Jung Hoseok - known as J-Hope to millions of strangers - was on the come-up. With multiple hit singles that racked up radio plays and Tik Tok streams, he was quickly slated into the tours and festivals sprouting around the country. One of them happened to be quite prestigious, which also happened to be the closest one to your current residence. 

Because of this, Seokjin’s friends flew in from all over the world to tag along for the ride. And even though they were grown and wildly successful, you still saw them as the same doofy bunch - maybe even more so since they were basically children with adult money. 

Turning your head to the other window seat, you snorted as the luggage that greeted you was enough to serve as evidence to your claim. 

For one, Jungkook had packed an entire duffle with what you believed to be production equipment and weed. When Seokjin half-asked, half-scolded him about it, the boy explained that he always got way too hyped after concerts or festivals to not work on his own shit afterwards. 

Jimin packed light since he was flying to another country right after the festival, and Yoongi and Taehyung flew in together but each had substantial luggage. Apparently, they both planned to stay longer after the festival was over since they hadn’t seen Seokjin in forever. 

You understood. Namjoon - the one waddling back from the house to bring the charger that he almost forgot - was the one that frequently saw Seokjin, but the rest of them were way too busy with their normal routines.

You loved them all, admittedly. Growing up, they would constantly be around, whether it was during family trips or just coming over to hang out. They seemed to always wind up at your house, though, and even if they claimed it was because Seokjin was the oldest, you were pretty sure it was solely because he had the best computer. 

Though you loved them all dearly, there was one in particular that you always found your eyes wandering to, your gaze lingering on for too long. 

Kim Taehyung. 

The same Kim Taehyung that was draped in a simple white tee and khaki pants, dark hair flopping around his head. He had arrived at the last minute - which would explain the game that he supposedly lost - and still had a mask on, so you couldn’t quite see his face. However, just from his broad shoulders alone, you knew he was not the same teenager he was when you had last seen him. 

Your phone rattled in the window tray. Instinctively, you grabbed it just as the bickering outside came to a close, rolling your eyes heavenward at the incoming text. 

Bestie: im sorry !! i wanted to go but there was just a change of plans 

Fingers alight with contempt, you dove into a scathing reply, paying zero attention to the man ducking inside the car to pause in front of you. 

“Scoot over.” 

That voice was much deeper than you remembered. 

Lifting your head, you locked eyes with the one you had an enormous - now very humongous - crush on. The shoulders engulfing your vision were the last things on your mind when his perfectly matured, maskless face was merely a foot away from yours. 

Almost losing yourself in his aura, you blinked twice before clarifying, “What did you say?” 

“Move. I get window.” 

“Umm. I’m already here?” It seemed that his face was the only mature thing about him. With furrowed brows, you realized that no matter how much he grew - and how gorgeous he became - he would still be the same. Taehyung had always been the one to whine or claim what he wanted, only a step above the boy that had a duffle bag full of midi keyboards.

He huffed out a laugh before leaning forward, and his breath fanned across your scowl when he simply ordered, “Stop stalling. Move or I’ll make you.” 

“Insufferable as always, I see,” you scoffed, shifting to the smaller and windowless middle seat while he huffed a sound of triumph and agreement. You shot another glare at the luggage taking up the collapsed chair next to your other side, hating your predicament.

It made sense to have his broader shoulders take the wider spot, but you absolutely hated the middle. “You could’ve just asked nicely.” 

As the man settled into his seat, you watched the way his biceps filled the white sleeves of his shirt, and the way his veins bulged in the forearm reaching for his seatbelt to pull it down. “I could’ve,” he replied, voice light with teasing, “But that’s no fun.” 

You sighed at his attitude; it couldn’t be helped. This ride was going to be a long one.

The rest of the boys had piled in during your petty fight in the back, and the lurch of the SUV kicking into drive made you realize that you weren’t buckled in at all. 

Damn Taehyung and his physique. You were so busy ogling that you ignored basic survival instincts. 

You had to reach over him to grab the seatbelt strap far behind your head, but when you pulled it down, you didn’t see a buckle. You weren’t exactly sure where it was beneath the mountain of bags, so you had to lift yourself off your seat to check. Tilting your body sideways, your eyes connected with the elusive latch, but that wasn’t what gave you pause. 

Because in your haphazard search, your ass had brushed right over a very soft, very prominent forearm. To make the situation worse, the skirt you wore was so short that it did nothing to shield your cheeks from his skin. 

Oh, shit. 

Immediately, you planted yourself back onto your seat, face flushed red with mortification. You didn’t even think to completely buckle yourself in before swiveling to Taehyung, meeting his stunned expression with agony. “I am so sorry,” you whispered, on the verge of shaking. 

It was imperative you turned away, fidgeting and taking much more time than necessary to strap in. From the front of the car, bits of conversation and fighting over the aux was happening, but your ears impressively blocked everything out. Your fingers trembled, enemies of your own safety as they refused to cooperate in such an easy task. 

And that entire time, despite your frantic apology, Taehyung hadn’t said a word in reply. 

Damn it, damn it, damn it. 

The next hour trudged by like your legs in a dream sequence, your mind screaming at itself to process everything faster. 

No matter what you tried, there wasn’t any escaping the thought of what Taehyung was thinking. He was already pissy about having to sit in the back; of course he wouldn’t be keen on having more shit happen to him. 

After the accident, you received nothing but radio silence. Too afraid to even look his way, you instead buried your eyes into your phone, scrolling and refreshing your feeds an unnecessary amount of times even when nothing new appeared. 

Nothing seemed to stop the guilt that washed over your skin, leaving you clammy and buzzing with horrible pent-up tension. 

You weren’t wearing much under the skirt you had, which was already too short, in hindsight. Taehyung most definitely felt the firm press of your cheeks, skin on skin. Even if it just lasted a second, you knew the memory - or nightmare - would burn in his brain for a long time. 

So much for that crush you had. It couldn’t exist anymore. Whatever relationship you had with him was pretty much in tatters.

Damn it, why did he have to be so stubborn about the window? It wouldn’t have happened if you stayed in that spot! 

A thousand scenarios streamed behind your eyes: him getting out and demanding switching seats at the next rest-stop, him ignoring you for all eternity, the awkwardness between you two skyrocketing until you broke completely and ran all the way back home. Shame slipped over your guilt-riddled skin in another layer of deprecation. 

Until something happened that shut your brain off entirely. 

The softest of fingers grazed your bare thigh. 

Your eyes flickered to where it happened, the skin torched with a mere touch, pure shock fizzling across the rest of your leg. 

What just happened? 

Looking at him got you no answers; Taehyung was devoutly attentive to the passing scenery. You could only make out the defined curve of his jawline as he lazily watched trees and fields go by. 

Slipping your gaze down his arm again - only to bite your lip at the inseparable band of bracelets and coursing veins - you wondered if it was just a mistake. 

He did seem a bit lost in thought. Maybe it was a stray movement? With a slight pang in your chest, you assumed he was thinking about someone he left back home. 

You decided to ignore it entirely, lest you drag yourself into a hole you couldn’t get out of. But then again, you couldn’t get away from the fact that just a single touch, stray or not, lit your soul on fire. 

It shouldn’t have, but that was probably why it did. He had been friends with your brother for the longest time, and someone you only knew as off-limits. As he existed with your brother and the rest of them, you could only watch and yearn from a distance. 

When you were old enough for university, you went off to a faraway college and came back to news of his move, just when you started validating your feelings for him and wanted to scrape up enough courage to tell him. You had since buried them, knowing that he was both out of your league and now flying out of your time zone. At least, you definitely tried.

But now, those same emotions proved fatal, erupting from the depths of your heart from just a single touch. 

Proceeding to grow tenfold as Taehyung did it again. 

The second time seemed more deliberate, which excited you and frightened you all the same. Even though you didn’t want to get your hopes up, it seemed pretty clear that the finger skimming along your thigh was an invitation. To what, you weren’t sure, but you were accepting it no matter where it was headed. 

There had been many relationships, but none of them managed to light a spark as much as he had in three total touches. Was it the fact that other people were there? That your brother was there? 

You looked toward Taehyung, expecting to see him yet again looking out the window, to discover that he was staring right at you. Like someone feigning innocence of the exact crime they were committing, he just cocked an eyebrow before grabbing his phone in the window tray and checking it. 

What the hell was he playing at? 

Your face scrunched in outright confusion as his hand kept traveling upwards. Was he just messing with you? You wouldn’t ever put that past him. Even though his mere finger felt stupidly arousing on your skin, if he was just doing this to tease you, you weren’t having it. 

Abruptly, right before reaching the lining of your skirt, Taehyung stopped. 

He knew exactly how you were feeling and, of course, he was being an ass about it. 

That’s what you assumed before flinching at your own phone vibrating. 

Damn, he had your entire body thrumming and your bones waiting to jump out of your skin, didn’t he? At the slightest disturbance, you had almost rocketed into the ceiling of the moving vehicle. 

Checking your lock screen, you realized that the very person that was torturing you was the one that sent you a text. 

Taehyung: Do you want me to stop?

Excitement bubbled in your brain. You weren’t reading too much into things; he was acting with intent.

The whole situation felt like a fever dream. Were you really about to walk this tightrope with Taehyung? With everyone else - including the man that would beat his ass if he caught you two - within earshot? 

With slightly trembling fingers, you typed out an answer and stared at it for what felt like eons. But you sent it because, in the end, this opportunity was never going to come again.

You: No

As soon as you sent it, you locked your phone and turned away, instead focusing on Jungkook’s freshly blonde hair in the middle left seat. Of course the youngest would dye his feisty locks for the upcoming festival. It was so obnoxious that you forgot your predicament and thought that the color suited his attitude and vibe very well.

Nothing happened for the next minute, despite your body teetering over a precipice waiting for anything to start. Nothing except for another text coming through. 

Feeling a bit strange, you spared a quick glance at the man beside you before checking your phone.

Taehyung: Are you sure? 

He was giving you another out? This guy of all people? You didn’t expect this type of approach to these things at all from him. You figured he would just go for the things he wanted, just like he did with your beloved window seat. 

Was he trying to use this as an out for himself? You wouldn’t be surprised in the least. After all, it didn’t take you long to determine his train of thought: you were his friend’s little sister. There wasn’t much to it. 

But this was something you’ve been wanting for years. Even though you were in close quarters with the others, you were pretty secluded in the back row. No one could see much past your necks - well, your neck and his chest - unless they physically stretched themselves. And this could be your only chance to enter whatever grey area you were encroaching. It practically fell into your lap, simply because you fell into his. 

Instead of texting back a reply, you decided to show him how serious you were. Screw his texts. 

From the front of the car, your reflection in the mirror would have just shown a bored face looking away from Taehyung and out the other window. 

But what was actually happening was a skirt being hiked up, slowly and deliberately, so that your entire side was exposed to your brother’s very hot and very sneaky friend. 

You wondered what he thought of the curve of your ass sloping into your thigh, the skin you had lotioned the night before and right before leaving the house. The thong you slipped on didn’t cover much, so every inch of skin on your side was exposed save for a sliver of silk fabric. 

The air conditioning hit your uncovered skin, but that wasn’t what caused the buzzing sensation you felt.

No.

It was the pure taboo. 

You know you shouldn’t have done it; things should not have gotten this far. Just this one action had changed your dynamic with Taehyung forever, no matter what happened down the line. Sure, you did press your ass into his arm earlier, but that was an innocent accident. 

But this? This was purposeful. 

Even if Taehyung didn’t react - which, to your dismay, he really wasn’t - you knew he wouldn’t look at you the same anymore. 

Speaking of which: why wasn’t he doing anything? Side-eyeing him from your spot, you almost made a noise of protest after you saw his sharp jawline turned towards the window again. 

He wasn’t even looking! You had been trembling  with all of your guilt and thoughts and he wasn’t even sparing your exposed cheek and thigh a glance. 

You felt stupid. So, so stupid. 

He was giving you an out because he already knew he wasn’t going to continue whatever he was doing. 

Now you just felt a cold sweat pool behind your neck. So much for the relationship changing because of something forbidden; now it would just be strained because you did something he didn’t want. 

Scrolling mindlessly through your phone with one hand, you started shamefully pushing your skirt back down, hot tears of embarrassment pricking the corners of your eyes. 

But then a strong hand swiftly closed over your wrist, the sudden grip lighting your nerves ablaze and rendering your mind completely blank. 

You broke your quivering eyes from your phone screen to see Taehyung’s bony hand pushing yours up your hip, slowly letting it go once your leg was back to being completely exposed. 

Fuck. 

There was absolutely no going back now.

You used every ounce of your being to calm your breaths. Acting like nothing was happening, you kept your focus solely on your phone, reading words on the screen but not registering a single one. Even when a finger slid along the length of your thigh, turning into a pair of wanderers, until an entire palm felt along the curve of your bare ass, you didn’t dare break. 

But you had to expel that tension somewhere. If it couldn’t come out of your mouth, you had to release it in the form of a tight squeeze of your palm over your lap. 

The conversation happening in the front two rows of the car kept its liveliness, but you hadn’t clearly heard any real words pass into the back row. All that existed was your shuddering breaths and Taehyung subtly cupping your plush cheek, his little ministrations already causing slick to build up in your center. 

You had to look. With a quick turn his way, you saw that he was once again looking out the window, his elbow propped on the side tray and his chin in his palm. 

You were starting to wonder if he had done something like this many times before, or least enough to feign an innocent expression while doing something so dirty. 

A cheeky grope of your ass caused you to cough, and when Seokjin cut his sentence off to ask if you were okay, you stared back at his inquisitive eyes in the rearview mirror and nodded. You saw his eyes drift to Taehyung beside you, but you knew he only saw a man bored out of his mind. 

Bits of the conversation popped up again, and you discreetly shot a glare at your partner in crime, suppressing a sound when he gripped the flesh of your ass again. Of course, he had diverted his attention from the window to his phone, which explained the quick buzzing of yours at your side.

Taehyung: Be a good girl, yeah?

Fuck. The nerve of this dude was off the charts. He was the one touching you. It didn’t matter that he had a firm grip on your ass at that moment - you were ready to give him a piece of your mind. 

You didn’t get very far in your inner tirade, though, since his hand trailed from your cheek to the dip of your inner thigh. On instinct, your legs clenched together. 

The action seemed to pull a sound from him. Turning, you locked your jaw when you observed the new curve of Taehyung’s cheekbone peeking underneath his hair. 

He was smiling. 

That bastard!

You knew without seeing his entire face that he was trying so hard to cover up his evil mirth. 

Directing your eyes to his slowly spreading legs, you spotted evidence that you weren’t the only one being affected by your dirty situation. Deep within his khakis, you could see a growing bulge between his thighs, and your chest swelled at the same time your eyebrow cocked. 

It was your chance for a speck of revenge. 

Pretending that you were listening to Namjoon prattle off to Jimin about one of his houseplants, your forearm crossed over Taehyung’s, your palm settling on his inner thigh dangerously close to his tent. 

Only for a brief moment. After a second, you pulled away after giving it the slightest squeeze. 

From the way his muscles flexed under your fingers, you sure as hell didn’t want to take your hand off of him. But you wanted him to know that you weren’t going to let him have all the fun, nor be the only one to tease. 

You weren’t going to be the only one suffering in that goddamned SUV. 

And your brief stint seemed to work. His hand had stilled on the juncture of your thigh and pelvis for what seemed like forever and a day. With your eyes solely focused back on your phone, your lips slowly spread in a smug grin as you felt the weight of Taehyung’s stare. 

Two could play this game. 

But taunting Kim Taehyung was akin to taunting the devil himself: ever so slowly, his fingers burst into life again, their impish nature present in the way they twirled the material of your panties around before gliding along the thin fabric to your clothed center. 

Oh, god. You didn’t think he would go further than groping. 

If you thought you were already jumping the brink of no return, this was your one-way ticket to Hell and you weren’t sure if your gritted teeth were from lust or from wanting to deck him in the face for being so downright naughty. You were in the car with everyone, for crying out loud!

With bated breath, you tried to focus on anything - anything else - in order to keep a straight face. If only you had a moment of peace between that action and his fingers dipping down your clothed mound, much wetter than it needed to be in a public space. 

Biting back a moan, you praised the heavenly gates - ones that you would never see for yourself - that he hadn’t dove into your underwear just yet. But the pads of fingers making their forbidden journey down your folds had your sex clenching all the same. 

Holy shit, he knew what he was doing. Taehyung knew exactly where to skim his fingers without even looking: two of them sliding along the slicked edges of your clothed cunt in a teasing manner, and his damned thumb swirling over your covered clit in short passes, causing you to flinch when you had to stay still. 

Flexing your hips up to find delicious friction, you took in a sharp breath, hoping to every higher power that no one heard your intake. With a quick survey of the rest of the car, you determined that you were saved. 

But your torture was far from over because Taehyung decided that was the right moment to completely cup your folds with the entirety of his hand. 

Instinctively, you lurched forward and brought a fist to your mouth, bending over to cover your ignited face from the rearview mirror. 

His warm palm pressed into your core was almost enough to make you come. How the hell was that even possible? 

Coming was not an option; you couldn’t do that. You were already way too wet and if you didn’t stop soon, it was going to become blatantly obvious what was happening back there. As much as you wanted Taehyung to fuck you senseless with his perfect digits, you knew it would be too much. 

You grabbed his strong wrist, gripping it just a tad before wondering what to do next. 

For a span of two seconds, Taehyung didn’t react. With his face still undeterred by anything occurring, he waited for your next move, seemingly fine with anything you were comfortable with. 

When you didn’t release your hold on him, a finger pressed into your underwear and rubbed your bundle of nerves, and every limb in your body screamed. 

You were on the brink. You had to run in the opposite direction. Fighting with yourself, you pulled your flushed form from the edge, shoving them into safe territory as your hand pried his from your sopping center. 

Everything had to stop. Completely grind to a halt. But damn it, Taehyung made you feel good as hell. 

One more glance at his legs had your moral compass spinning out of control. The bulge had since grown from earlier, the sheer size of it poking from his khakis alarming and throwing you into a cold sweat.

He was huge. 

And you weren’t going to get this close to him ever again. 

That harsh truth alone was what caused your arm to stretch into his seat, your sure fingers boldly grazing over his confined cock. When Taehyung flinched and jerked his hips, you could tell he was taken completely by surprise, smirking slightly at his sudden head turn. 

You looked away right as he regarded you, and while you typed something into your phone, you swore your body temperature spiked under his gaze.

Your message was sent and immediately, Taehyung checked it. If you were alone, you would’ve teased him endlessly, but you could only keep quiet as you waited for him to read what you sent. 

You: Do you want me to stop? 

It was bold, but you wanted him to know you weren’t just his friend’s younger sister. You weren’t just some girl he could tease in the back of a car. There had been way too many things that happened between the past and now and, since he started this, you were going to make sure he saw it to the end. 

His reply was immediate. 

Taehyung: Fuck no

Mm. Time to tease. 

Locking your phone, you fixed your hair and pretended to once again listen to the conversation filling the front end of the vehicle. It seemed that some of it died out, with Jungkook reaching the point of the road trip where his hood was shrouding his whole head and Jimin quietly singing to himself while semi-invested in talking. All the more reason that it was better to stop what could’ve been the hardest orgasm of your life. 

You were most certainly regretting how hard your pussy was throbbing, but better to be safe and hurting than sorry. Maybe this is what spurned your pettiness to get back at him, too.

Leaning forward so that your head was close to Jimin’s, you feigned a listening posture for a bit, resting your head on one arm while the other stayed limp next to Taehyung’s leg. 

Namjoon was deep in conversation with Yoongi on how EDM was still great music, in a way. The elder boy wasn’t quite convinced, and some of his points had you laughing along even though you just started listening in. 

You were almost sucked into the debate when you felt your dangling hand grabbed and tugged slightly. You didn’t turn away from the front, but your eyes and smile widened a bit when your fingers were fully shoved onto Taehyung’s pants. 

He probably saw the situation the same way you did: when the hell would you ever do this again? At least you knew he was just as affected as you were. 

Now that you had a whole hand over him, there was no room for doubt: he was definitely big. Large. Not that you would ever get to feel him inside you, but holy shit, you didn’t even know if he would fit. 

You had to grit your teeth to not react to his sheer size, your fingers wrapping around as much as you could over his pants. When Taehyung shifted his hips, you felt his hardness press deliciously into your hand, and your smile strained as you tried to keep your attention on Namjoon’s animated argument in the seats in front of you. 

Your hand moved as slowly as it could to not make any sounds. But the mere feel of his cock, despite being confined in layers of clothing, birthed new life into the scenarios you had imagined for years. 

Now that you had an idea of his size, there was a high possibility you wouldn’t get any sleep. For days. You were already apologizing to the next guy you fucked because you knew, in your heart of hearts, that you would already imagine Taehyung’s dick slamming into you instead. 

He had thoroughly wrecked you in the span of an hour, and you both had all of your clothes on.

You unwittingly started to rub your thighs together, the slick culminating between them getting worse by the second. Damn, you wanted to rip through his stupid khakis and suck the life out of him, or at least feel his velvety smooth length in your palm for real. 

None of these thoughts helped. 

Unknowingly, you had squeezed him a bit harder than he expected, and he jerked forward and coughed into his palm to cover the low groan he almost whooshed out instead. At the same time, a hand reached out and gripped your ass - hard. 

You immediately let out a sudden cough of your own, alarming Namjoon and Jimin to turn back toward you. 

“Everything okay back there?” 

Shit! That was Seokjin’s voice. Exaggerating your cough longer, you nodded at all of them without saying a word, knowing your voice would come out suspiciously cracked. Meanwhile, the hand on your ass started following its curve into your core. 

“Taehyung?” 

“Yeah,” was all the man had to offer, innocent in his tone while his fingers were devilishly sliding over your clothed cunt from behind, “Just thirsty.” 

You had to sit all the way back to free yourself from his touch. This was absolutely wrong and the jerk knew it! His fingers, lightly damp from the wetness coating your underwear, were squished between your lower back and the seat. To your horror, he gripped your shirt and let out the faintest of chuckles. 

Yoongi tossed a look over his shoulder from the passenger’s seat, cocking a brow when he saw the mirth in Taehyung’s face. “There’s a pack of water behind you guys.” 

“No need to use those right now,” Seokjin cut in, “We’re about to reach a gas station. We can save the pack for when we get to the hotel.” 

To your utter dismay, you were indeed in range of a rest stop, realizing that you had been driving through a cityscape for some time now. Did Taehyung snatch that much of your attention? 

Two things had to happen. One, you had to take your hand off of his dick. As you thought this, your fingers were already being squeezed by a strong hand and pulled off of his heat. The immediate separation was awful, but you also had to make sure your clothes weren’t suspiciously rumpled. Gathering your wits, you dusted and smoothed down your skirt and your top. There was a good amount of time still before you had to assumedly get out with everyone else. 

Already, Taehyung was back to normal, throwing his two cents into the conversation with Jimin and Namjoon. You expected maybe one last squeeze on your thigh or at least one look towards you, but you got absolutely nothing from him. 

Was he really just doing all of that to… what? Pass the time? Nothing in his body language other than his softening cock showed that he was just aroused moments before. How was he able to keep his cool so easily? 

Another moment passed, and as Seokjin rolled the car up to an empty row, Jimin hugged Jungkook awake while the rest of them unbuckled. Beside you, Taehyung had already unlatched his seatbelt, perusing through his phone and looking as bored as ever. 

He had to have been putting up a front so as to avoid suspicion. Maybe once you were both back in the car, you could continue what was happening. 

But a sudden separation in the gas station and an awkward switch in drivers later, you currently sat next to Yoongi in the back seat, looking at Taehyung clutching the wheel and wondering what the hell you did wrong. 

The rest of the car ride saw you struggling to not think about tearing Taehyung’s limbs apart. What the fuck was he doing? Why did he suddenly offer to drive the rest of the way to the hotel? Wouldn’t that make things suspicious?  

Tapping away on your phone to send a long message, you suddenly read over it and deleted the whole thing. It was pointless to send him something that you might regret later once he actually read it. 

Beside you, a low voice questioned, “What’s up with you?” 

Swerving your eyes to Yoongi, you quickly tried to come up with an excuse, knowing he was both keen and willing to tell your brother anything. “My friend.” 

“They make you mad?” 

Technically, your friend did make you upset. But that wasn’t who you were thinking of. “Something like that. Just flaky.” 

“Ah.” Yoongi joined his fingers resting between his thighs, and you watched as the multiple rings he donned glinted in the setting sun hovering over the passing horizon. “Those people aren’t always the best to hang with. They could end up hurting you.” 

Strangely, it sounded like he knew the real person you were referring to and that this was somewhat of a warning. But you were definitely inside your own head. “They were just supposed to come with us, and they bailed at the last second. Now I’m gonna feel like a seventh wheel.” 

“Fuck that. Enjoy yourself.” 

Your brows lifted just like your spirits, if just for a moment. “I mean, I’ll figure something out. It’s just…” You turned your head to the front seats, and Yoongi lifted a hand as if to whisper a secret in your ear. 

“Don’t worry about Jin. I’ll make sure he doesn’t bother you.” 

As much as you appreciated Yoongi looking out for you, your brother wasn’t the one in the front you were concerned about. 

It was the one that kept sparing glances in the rearview mirror, their shadowy eyes observing you sitting comfortably next to his older friend.

Unwittingly, you sucked in a breath. A deep, dark fizzling in your gut told you that, despite his quick change of heart and seating arrangement, Kim Taehyung was far from done with you. 

And for the rest of the car ride to the hotel, you hoped to everything in the universe that it was right.

-

-

part 2 spoiler: “you don’t wanna do this.” 

a/n: thank you for reading! taglist is still open and part 2 is in the works! 

taglist: @glmcre @fadedforestnymph @dinamitae @chateautae @ggukkieland @ressjeon @taestannie @bonnyskies @somewhereofftheglobe @yoongiillogical @jungkooksbroski​ @svftbaby​ @yoontaethings​ @vivrant-thang​ @hopeonysus​ @jungkxook​ @artsyjoons​ @marcoazam2​ @tomotae​ @spicybangtanwings​

feedback box (added nov. 25th, 2021!): ⇥ of course, any reblogs/comments/messages are appreciated! ⇥ for the ones that aren’t okay with reblogging with a review, commenting on this, or sending a message, i went ahead and made another anonymous form where you can send in what you think! ⇥ no emails collected, no need to put in a username. it’s literally just a feedback dropbox :D ⇥ here!  

[neosarchives]

because i met you

—ep2: dressed like hyuck?

warning: the cutest!

word count: 0.5k words

Saturday afternoon and the father and daughter had just been laying around on Mark's bed until Mark thought to finally do something.

"Bada baby, what should we do today?" Mark asked the cute little girl, while still laying down.

Hearing her dad's voice, she turned to him and paid attention attentively, "Outside! Outside!" the little girl cheered, jumping with her knees on the bed.

The excitement of the little girl caused Mark to giggle, "Alright, alright~, where do you want to go?" he asked.

"I want some pancakes!" Bada cheered. "Also can uncle Hyuck join us? Pretty please?" she added, cupping her dad's face in her hands.

"Oh? Is uncle Hyuck your favourite?" he asked in a teasing tone. She hummed and mumbled an "I dunno kno—" under her breath.

Mark lightly laughed. "Okay, let's give uncle Hyuck a call."

Ring~ ring~ ring~ on speaker. Haechan picked up the call, "Yesss~ 'Melt'?"

"Yooo—are you free today?"

"I most of the time am, so yeah, what's up?"

"I asked Bada if she wanted to do something today and she said she wanted to go out and wanted you to come with."

Bada rushed to bring her mouth near the phone and yelled, "Uncle Hyuck! Come with us please!"

Haechan laughed at the cute little girl and replied in a sweet tone, "I would love to Bada, I'll get ready right now, okay?"

"Yay! Okay! See you soon and take care!" she replied and added a 'muah'.

Mark smiled and adored how sweet his daughter was.

"Yo Hyuck, any idea where we can go? Bada said she wanted pancakes," he asked the boy on the phone.

"Yeah, wanna try this new cafe my friend recommended to me? Apparently, it's kind of nearby our area," he recommended.

"Yeah ok! Cool! Mind meeting here? So we can just take my car." Mark suggested.

"Okay yeah, I'll be there in 25!", Mark replied with a bye and ended the call.

Mark got up from the bed and turned to his daughter, "Bada, come on let's get ready! Uncle Hyuck is coming soon!" Bada then jumped off the bed and quickly ran to the bathroom.

Bada had ended up playing around with Mark in the bathroom, and by the time they were just about to be done, Haechan, knowing Mark's code had barged in while announcing he had arrived.

"Just a sec!" Mark yelled from the bathroom. "Bada, hurry! Uncle Hyuck is here!", causing Bada to hurry out in her towel to greet Haechan.

Haechan giggled at the sight and greeted her with a hug. "Uncle Hyuck! Can you pick my outfit for me?", the little girl asked. Haechan nodded, and giggled, "Of course sweetie."

"I want to dress like you!" Bada noted.

Mark yelled, "Are you getting dressed Bada?". Haechan replied, "Yes she is Mark!"

After some time getting ready, the three were done getting dressed, and everyone was set to go. "Ready Bada?" Haechan asked the little one, "Yes!", she cheered. And everyone was on the way out.

home     [prev.]     [next]

⋆ pairing: lee mark x reader

⋆ summary: after the mother of his child left him for another guy, mark had developed trust issues which brought him to never want to fall for any girl again. everything was going well in mark’s life, just him, his beloved daughter, his best friends, and his success as an author. what happens if a girl unexpectedly comes, and already falls before even realizing it?

⋆ a/n: pls ignore any typo and if the writing is bad, i suck at writing:) i hope you guys will like it! send an ask if you wanted to be added to the tag list! also just a little s/o to my bestie @najaemism for helping me with things! <333 ignore timestamps!

s;taglist: @najaemism @catscoffeeandkpop @studywoo @keijikunn @aedreamzy @smolpeyy

bimy;taglist: @tennieboiii

[babyboibucky]

The Match - Part 8

Pairing: CEO!Bucky x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2.7k

Summary: You get a preview of what it’s like to be working with Mackenzie.

Warnings: I apologize as there is no smut in here lmfao but there is a stubborn Bucky lols

A/N: The jitters just never go away whenever I post a new part for this ajkcnjasncakjcnakj I find this part boring tbh but uhh things will start picking up again in the next part I promise

The Match Masterlist || MAIN MASTERLIST

Bucky decided to push through with his partnership with Wilson Enterprises. It was a big one, so it definitely required the entire team's effort and perseverance. Apparently, this is the company's biggest, most major project yet so this was going to look really good in your resume. It would also provide you with more credibility to further excel in your career.

Except that Bucky actually hired a marketing consultant to take over the entire project as his revenge.

"Any questions? About the project or about Kenzie?" Bucky asked, standing in front of the conference room, next to Mackenzie.

You confidently raised your hand when no one else did. Bucky tilted his head, a tiny smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. He knew you were affected, of fucking course you were!

"Yes?" he called out.

You stood up and sighed softly, "I mean this in the most respectful way, Mister Barnes." you said, emphasizing his name. "But as the head of marketing, what exactly is my role here? Given that Mackenzie was hired to spearhead the marketing aspect of this project." you said, giving Mackenzie a passive aggressive smile.

"I don't want to overstep on some boundaries here, that's why I'm asking. I just want clarity, that's all." you said.

Bucky was about to respond when Mackenzie stopped him, grabbing his arm and squeezing it before taking over the floor. You narrowed your eyes at how her slender fingers were wrapped around Bucky's arm.

"Honey..." Mackenzie started. "There's nothing to worry about, this is a collaborative work between you and I. So think of yourself as my assistant, someone to help me out with the project." she responded.

Bitch.

"I'm not an assistant, Mackenzie." you said, smiling at her.

Mackenzie laughed, "I'm sorry, my bad. I shouldn't have used that term. Oops." she said. "Although, I believe I have more experience in this area so maybe consider me a mentor?" she suggested.

Bitch!

Bucky cleared his throat, "If you have certain ideas, you can discuss it with her. She is a consultant after all. Given her impressive experience in the field, I'm sure you'll learn a thing or two from her."

The meeting was wrapped up by noon and you simply couldn't wait to get yourself out of the conference room. You didn't feel like talking to Bucky anymore in all honesty, not after what he was doing. You knew this was just to spite you, get you to cave in first and give in to him.

All the more that you wouldn't, especially not when he actually used your job against you.

Everyone started rushing out of the conference room, ready to head out for lunch. As soon as you reached the doorway, you overheard the short conversation between Bucky and Mackenzie.

"Hey Bucky, we still up for lunch?"

-

The bathroom was empty when you stepped inside and thank god for that because you couldn't hold back your emotions any further. Tears gathered in the corner of your eyes, not because you were hurt. Fuck no, you were angry and frustrated. So fucking angry at yourself for getting into this mess, at Bucky for being such an entitled prick, at the entire world for plotting against you.

You groaned in irritation as you wiped away your tears, sniffing as you looked at yourself in the mirror.

You worked your ass off for this job, for your position. You risked your dignity when you let Bucky fuck you. You weren't going to let someone take that away from you.

You quickly fixed yourself when the door opened, followed by the loud clacking of someone's heels.

"Omg, are you crying?" Beverly gasped, rushing over to you.

You snickered, "No." you lied, "My eyes are itchy." you huffed out before noticing that Beverly was holding a sandwich in her hand.

"Why did you bring your sandwich here?" you curiously asked.

Beverly shrugged, "The pantry's full and the other girls don't exactly seem to like me...so..."

You shook your head and sighed, "Come with me, let's have lunch out. I need to get out of this fucking place anyway."

"Yay, omg! I knew you were nice! You're like, the only girl who actually talked to me nicely." Beverly said, tagging behind you as you exited the bathroom.

"Oh, there you are!" Mark called out. "I was looking for you. Wanna grab lunch? Oh...who's this?" he asked, noticing the blonde girl trailing behind you.

"I'm Beverly! I'm Sir James' new secretary." she introduced excitedly.

You sighed, "Don't ask me why." you said when Mark turned to you with a confused look, still not sure what happened to Bucky's previous secretary.

"So, lunch out? With Bev?" you asked.

-

You were completely zoning out during lunch despite the ongoing conversation between Mark and Bev, something about yoga? You honestly couldn't care less, not when you were feeling so conflicted about your current situation.

Would Bucky actually go that far just to get you back? Or does he actually hate you for saying no to him and is basically using his authority to make your life a living hell?

"So I heard about the new girl." Mark said, that snapped you out of your trance.

"Huh?" you asked.

"I find it weird for Mister Barnes to hire someone when you're here." Mark pointed out. "I mean, are you okay with that or..."

You snorted, "Fuck no. Look, I'm not gonna be the bigger person here. I was offended as fuck." you admitted.

"Yeah, it's super weird because she was hired through Tinder or something. Is that even legal?" Beverly pointed out as she scrolled through her phone.

You and Mark turned to her abruptly, "Tinder? Wait, what?" you asked.

Beverly chuckled, "I heard them talking this morning and Kenzie was like, 'It's so funny that we matched on Tinder and ended up doing business there you know' and I'm like omg Sir James has Tinder and I have one too but I never saw him there, bummer."

"Motherfucker." you hissed out.

Mark made a face, "Are you okay?" he carefully asked. "You've been really tensed since last week."

Apparently, Bucky never deleted his Tinder and have been swiping right on women. And that's how he met Mackenzie who just happened to be a marketing consultant. Now you were just furious, was he fucking her too? Has he been fucking other women this entire time?

"Hey, Bev..." you said, a plan hatching inside your mind. "Can I ask you a favor?" you asked nicely.

Beverly nodded, "Um duh, you're basically my office BFF now."

"If you ever hear Mister Barnes and Mackenzie talk about hmm, I don't know...something interesting. Maybe about the project...me 'cause you know, I'm the head of marketing and Mackenzie’s in the same field...let me know, will ya?" you asked.

Mark chuckled nervously, "I don't know what's going on but isn't that an invasion of privacy?"

"She's not going to eavesdrop, Mark. She'll just...listen closely." you explained.

"Bev might get in trouble if Mister Barnes finds out." Mark warned.

You waved a hand, "She'll be fine, Mark. She's his secretary, she has to know everything. Besides, I'm not going to let her get in trouble, if she does then I'll take care of it."

Beverly squealed in delight, "Omg, you are not my office BFF. You're like my office mom! You and Mark are literally my office parents." she said, lifting her phone up in the air.

"Selfie! This one goes to the 'gram." she said, taking a quick photo of the three of you.

She then proceeded to edit the photo while you and Mark continued eating lunch.

"Bev, you should really put your phone away and eat first. We have less than half an hour left for lunch break." Mark called out.

Beverly groaned and rolled her eyes, "Way to get into the role, Mark. You're such a dad."

You snorted, "Yeah. Loosen up, daddy." you teased.

"Playing family after just one date, huh."

Bucky's presence in the same restaurant should've really intimidated you, most especially that he just witnessed you tease Mark like that. But you were too mad at him to even care, what was the point even? He didn't believe you even when you told him the truth that Mark was just a friend.

Why even try now?

"Hi Sir James." Beverly greeted happily.

"Mister Barnes." Mark acknowledged.

Bucky ignored them and kept his eyes on you. You didn't falter under his gaze and simply stared back at him with blank eyes. It's as if a staring competition took place when the both of you merely looked at each other, neither of you looking away nor attempting to do so.

"How was that date last Friday, Jim?" Bucky asked, his eyes still trained on yours.

Mark made a funny face at the name that Bucky called him but shrugged anyway. Before he could even respond, you decided to answer on his behalf. If Bucky wanted to spite you, you'd give him a taste of his own medicine.

"It was actually great. We might go on another one this Friday." you said.

"We are?" Mark asked in a whisper.

Bucky's hand landed on Mark's shoulder, "Don't count on it, Andrew. She's going to be doing a lot of work on Friday due to the project." he said through gritted teeth.

You shrugged, "Oh, but I thought Mackenzie's doing all my work?"

"I'm ready to head back, Buck."

Speak of the devil herself. Mackenzie weaved through the tables and approached Bucky, her face brightening up when she saw you, Mark and Beverly.

"Oh, hey you." she greeted you. "Look, I think we may have started off on the wrong foot earlier. I'm not here to take your job, just here to spice things up a bit. Improve your ideas, give Bucky some assistance." she chuckled, holding onto Bucky's arm yet again.

You fought back the urge to grab your glass of water and throw it at her face. As the saying goes, kill them with kindness. So you merely shrugged and extended an arm for a handshake.

"Of course. I would love to improve your ideas as well, you know. Just a healthy discourse between two marketing professionals. We good?" you said.

Mackenzie forced out a chuckle and reached for your hand, "We’re good. I look forward to working with you." she said before turning back to Bucky who was still gazing at you.

"Let's go?" she asked sweetly.

Bucky smirked at you before wrapping an arm around Mackenzie's waist, guiding her out of the restaurant the same way he did to you. You were too focused on Bucky's body language around Mackenzie that you failed to notice that Mark was watching you closely, your expressions and how you reacted towards Bucky.

"I think I know what's happening."

-

"You what?!"

"Shhh!" you hushed Mark and peeked out of the empty pantry to make sure the coast was clear.

Mark noticed the tension between you and Bucky and he came to a conclusion that the both of you dated at one point. He wasn't really wrong but he wasn't right either. So you decided to tell him everything, from the moment you matched with Bucky on Tinder until your last conversation with him last Saturday.

"I honestly thought you were dating, I didn't know there was sex involved. No wonder he had been calling me weird names." he said incredulously. "Was that you and Mister Barnes that Janet reported to the HR?" he asked, stifling his laughter.

You groaned, "Yes. Ugh, gave me a panic attack when I found out about that incident report." you said.

"Hey..." Mark called out. "Thank you for trusting me enough to tell me this. Your secret is safe with me." he reassured.

You nodded, "I think it was about time that I told someone about us anyway. This whole situation is driving me crazy and I don't know what to do next. And I'm sorry for dragging you into this mess, I shouldn't have said that we were going out again. I don't want you or your job getting compromised because of our petty fight." you exhaled.

You had to admit, you felt so much better now after confiding with Mark. It somewhat alleviated the weight on your shoulders, knowing that there was someone aware of what you were going through. Who would've thought that this person would end up being Mark? You did have friends outside of work of course, but you felt like they all wouldn't really understand the situation.

Half would hate you for rejecting Bucky and the other half would hate you for even swiping right on him.

"Do you mind an unsolicited advice?" Mark asked.

"Not at all." you said.

"Ignore him. Don't let him or Mackenzie get to you. Do what you do best, you're great at your job and you'll be fine. That might get him to realize that you're not a prize to be won. And if he still doesn't see that, then that's his loss. You're more than just that hot marketing girl at work." Mark said.

You laughed at his last statement, "Hot marketing girl at work?" you asked, shaking your head.

"It's true. So if in any case you decide to ditch the CEO and move on, you know where to find me." he joked, throwing a wink your way.

-

You wanted to finish all your reports so you could focus on the huge project so you decided to work until around nine in the evening. The floor was already empty by the time you were done. Bucky seemed to be working too, given that he was still replying to e-mails at this hour. Wanting to get all the reports over with, you decided to submit it to him before going home.

During the elevator ride to Bucky’s floor, you couldn’t help but wonder whether he was alone in the office. Would Mackenzie be there with him? Even at this hour? Your grip on the folder tightened at the thought of catching them in the act.

But did you have any right to feel this way though?

Brushing off the thoughts, you exhaled loudly and prepared yourself for whatever it was you were to witness. Upon reaching the door to Bucky’s office, you slightly turned your head to listen to anything. It was quiet. No hushed whispers nor strained grunts-- they weren’t fucking, thank goodness for that.

You decided not to knock and just walk inside like you used to, reminding yourself of Mark’s advice.

Don’t let Bucky get to you.

When you saw Bucky hunched over his desk, typing away on his e-mails instead of bending a certain brunette somewhere in his office, you had to admit that you were relieved. He looked up and his eyes looked dead tired, you almost felt sorry for him. Almost.

“You should really learn how to knock.” Bucky called out, slamming his laptop shut.

“Look, Bucky. I was just rushing to submit these reports so I can go home.” you explained and placed the folder on top of his desk.

Bucky frowned, “I said to call me Mister Barnes.”

You huffed out, “I honestly don’t care, Bucky. I’m not playing your damn games anymore.” you said and turned around.

A hand on your arm pulled you back, harshly turning you around to face Bucky. He was fuming, as usual. At this point, you were no longer fazed.

“You think I don’t know what you’re trying to do?” he asked.

You clenched your jaw and pulled your arm back, “I’m not doing anything. You bring in Beverly or Mackenzie or whoever it is that you have up your sleeve. I don’t fucking care. I just want to focus on work.” you said and stepped away.

“And you should too, Bucky.” you added.

“I don’t believe you.” he said.

You sighed, your shoulders dropping from exhaustion at this whole shenanigan. “I’m done, Bucky.”

And with that you turned around to exit his office, leaving Bucky unsure whether you truly meant what you said. A victorious smirk graced your lips as you walked back to the elevator.

You were far from done.

-

The Match Special Tags:

@marvelslag​​ @weird-mumbling​​ @propertyofpoeandbucky​​ @lostinthoughtsandfeelings​​ @mostly-marvel-musings​​ @squishybabies​​ @megzdoodle​​ @suchababie​​ @annathesillyfriend​​ @xhollycowx​​ @sweetkingdomstarlight-blog​​ @5-seconds-of-mendes​​ @gogolucky13​​ @countonthesun​​ @iloveshawnieboi​​ @learisa​​ @borikenlove​​ @scarlet-natasha89​​

Everything Bucky Tag List:

@ddowii​​ @jessou893​​ @stealapizzamyheart​​ @bagelofthelord​​ @mxnt​​ @dontputyourfckingdrinkonmytable @jeeperky​​ @ohladymacbeth​​ @wildflowergubler​​ @supraveng​​ @twinerd14​​ @buckysmar @bakugouswh0r3​​ @sweetcoldharmony @wintersfilm​​ @charminivy​​ @amelia-song-pond​​ @iamvalentinaconstanza​​ @mcubqrnes @im-squished​​ @tcc-gizmachine​​ @sipsteacasually​​ @prettyintopeerpressure​​ @weloveyasmin​ @est19xxshit​ @bloodhon3yx​ @dressed-in-prada​ @lizette50​ @thatfangirl42​ @sunflowerbunny2​ @unmagically​ @okiegirl24​ @sugarpunch-princess​ @enlyume​ @vvipgotbb @slimeyderp​ @lyoongx​ @just-deka​ @nobody-will​ @jaziona92 @elisebuitron​ @dpaccione​ @suvikamahes98blr​ @buckybarneshairpullingkink​ @earthtonav @x-judyjude-x​ @nani-kenobi @just-here-to-escape-from-reality @belladonnabarnes​ @iloveangstposts​ @weenersoldierr​ @asemistablehundredyearoldman​ @reidbuck​ @lizzarooni​ @girlfriday007​ @bonkywobble​ @lost-in-the-stars03​ @its-yasbxtch​ @whoth3hellisbucky​

[newronantic]

HAIKYUU!! FICS

so this is mostly gonna be for myself to keep track of my favorite fics i’ve read, but hey if anyone else wants to check some of these out then thats great

MHA one is up!!

ill keep updating this as i read more, feel free to send me suggestions!

KageHina

plain as day - emleewrites

In which Hinata has spent the better part of the last twenty years putting his heart and soul into volleyball, hoping to be recognised, to be noticed. And yet he spends all these years also thinking of himself as rather plain, beyond his lack of height and bright hair, and not really noticeable at all.

In Transit - Mysecretfanmoments

Hinata finds that he likes standing close to Kageyama on buses and trains. It doesn't mean anything--probably. Maybe.

I like the way your clothes smell - Mysecretfanmoments

Power outages, ghost stories, and the presence of a certain orange-haired boy lead to bad decision-making on Tobio's part. He'd planned to keep his crush a secret; the universe has other plans.

Chaotic Neutral - akaraka

Who's this Kageyama person on twitter and is he gay?

1: Anonymous: see title

2: Anonymous: curry king

3: Anonymous >> 1: It's the curry king, obviously. Have you been using his memes this whole time without knowing who he was?

4: Anonymous: 1) Hinata Shouyou's boyfriend 2) See above

jellyfish - mysterytwin

At the beginning of his last year at Karasuno High School, Hinata Shouyou starts a list and calls it THINGS TO DO BEFORE GRADUATION, all with high hopes that he’ll be able to complete it before his time runs out.

TsukkiYama

Try This On For Size - CloudMonsta

A lot changed for Yamaguchi Tadashi over the course of high school. He started trying on dresses, for one.

The Great Yamaguchi-Tsukishima Split (Capitalization Necessary) - WyYeuw

"But no, the current situation isn’t normal. This situation requires the full attention of the team.

No, what’s really concerning this time around, is that Yamaguchi is the one ignoring Tsukishima.”

Yamaguchi confesses. Tsukishima fucks up—like, really fucks up. The volleyball club notices and loses a week’s worth of practice.

IwaOi

Terrarium - sausaged

He's practically a professional at being proactive (lies, lies, and lies when it comes to Iwaizumi).

At this point, is he really happy with just staying best friends forever? Will he be writing journals and collecting rocks forever (he will, he knows, but that is aside from the point)?

Can he really tag his Instagram photos with #YOLO if he doesn't actually put that phrase into practice?

A story about Oikawa Tooru, Iwaizumi Hajime, plants, and rocks.

They Say it Rain Diamonds on Jupiter - exsao

"You're in love with him."

Hajime considers denying it. He considers deliberately choking on his drink to express surprise, to create a distraction by spitting onto the man in front of him's pristine white shirt and causing a commotion. Instead, he swallows his mouthful of soda and heaves a small sigh once his mouth is free.

"Yeah," he says instead.

He's never been good at lying, anyway.

bait and switch - Stylographic_Blue_Rhapsody

Oikawa's university volleyball team knows he's in a long-distance relationship with someone from high school. They imagine a sweet-faced girl that matches his sarcasm with patience. They are so incredibly wrong.

my heart is where it’s always been - foreverautumn

Iwaizumi places his phone down carefully.

Oikawa. Pining after someone. There’s no way.

(Iwaizumi knows he shouldn’t care who Oikawa might have feelings for, but within the span of three days, it’s somehow the only thing he can think about.)

KuroKen

Beautiful People Will Ruin Your Life - todxrxki

Kuroo Tetsurou runs a private Twitter account where he's constantly tweeting about how desperately in love he is with Kozume Kenma. Little does he know that Kenma sees all the tweets and keeps referencing the account in an attempt to get Kuroo to confess to him. / Or, five times Kuroo didn't notice Kenma hinting about his private Twitter account, and one time he finally did.

the things that get caught in the valves of his heart - ghostpot

Emotional competency is not exactly Kuroo's strong suit. Kenma finds it quite amusing.

Accidentally In Love - todxrxki

Kuroo frowns, but then slowly, the corners of his mouth lift up into a smirk. "Well, if it's so unbelievable, why don't we give it a try?"

Kenma glances up at him curiously. "What do you mean?"

"Let's do the 36 questions to fall in love," Kuroo says, still smirking stupidly. "If we don't fall in love, then you're right, it's bullshit. But if we do somehow..." Kuroo waggles his eyebrows. "Then I win." / Kuroo decides he and Kenma should do the 36 questions to fall in love as a joke, but they both start to realize they might actually be in love already.

the galaxy is endless (i thought we were, too) - cosmogony

TW: major character death

Kuroken AU where the last words your soulmate will say to you appear on your skin when you turn 16, and how Kenma and Kuroo learn what this means over the course of their lives

even if you’re ahead for a bit, i will catch up - ghostpot

Kuroo first confesses when they're sticky-fingered, wide-eyed kids, and subsequently every day after that. Kenma takes a while to come around.

you’re the brake lines failing (as my car swerves off the freeway) - ghostpot

Kenma thinks that Kuroo looks ugly with his head bent against the arm of the couch like that. Then Kenma thinks that he wants to marry him, and is promptly thrown into the 5 stages of grief.

teach me the way home - icespyders

“Don’t go far off, not even for a day, because —

because — I don’t know how to say it: a day is long

and I will be waiting for you, as in an empty station

when the trains are parked off somewhere else, asleep.”

Kuroo and Kenma grow up in transit.

in this universe - crossbelladonna

Living with Kuroo is sometimes, just like this. It always feels surreal like he's living half a world and a lot of things rush by too quickly. Kenma feels like he'd watched him come and go in a blink, eyes wide and wordless as the shared space went snug in an instant and far larger in the next.

All this, and a glass of water.

Beginning’s End - todxrxki

Somehow over the course of Kenma's lifetime, he’s never really had an opportunity to miss Kuroo. He’s always been there. Even when they went to different schools, Kuroo would meet him afterwards so they could walk home together, shoulders brushing, Kuroo occasionally taking the opportunity to guide him when his nose was buried in the newest video game. The thought of Kuroo not being there anymore is uncomfortable, to say the least. / Kozume Kenma's third year and the changes the year brings in himself and his relationship with Kuroo Tetsurou.

All I Want for Christmas is You - todxrxki

“Kuro,” he says. “You’re a single guy.”

“Yeah, great, thanks for pointing that out.”

“And my parents already know you, plus they already know you like guys or whatever so… what if you pretended to be my date for Christmas dinner?” / In which Kenma recruits his housemate and best friend Kuroo to be his fake date for Christmas.

BokuAka

just to miss the sun - rosevtea

Everything begins to implode when MSBY Jackals outside hitter Bokuto Koutarou crashes Akaashi's livestream.

Operation BokuAka - kazzydolyn

After spending two whole years watching Bokuto and Akaashi pine for one another, the rest of the Fukuroudani Volleyball Club has had enough. When everyone meets up for a reunion dinner, the team decides to play matchmaker and finally get the two of them together. Unfortunately, their plan starts to fall apart when they discover that Akaashi is already dating someone. And apparently so is Bokuto. What a strange coincidence.

bitter - silvercistern

He accepted his classmate's chocolates gracefully, then declared his lack of interest with as much dignity as he could muster. She deserved the courtesy. At least she'd acknowledged that Valentine's Day was all about her, and not about him in the slightest.

Because if any of these girls had taken the time to actually get to know him, they’d quickly realize something even more important than his lack of interest in girls.

And that was that Akaashi hated sweets.

In Another Life - LittleLuxray

TW: major character death

Sleeping didn't come as easy as it used to. Bokuto knew this, and now Akaashi did, too.

The hospital AU that no body asked for, but that I took upon myself to write.

120% yes - pissedofsandwich

TOKYO FRANCHISE COMING SOON @OnigiriMiya

in reply to @bokkun_official 

Congratulations! In celebration of your historic engagement, please DM us so we can send you a free membership code with a 25% discount on every fourth purchase!

Kissing Ace - karasunovolleygays

It happens right after training camp.

Akaashi Keiji has a secret he has guarded since he was a child. He won’t go so far as to call it a fear, but more of an aspect of himself of which he is horribly mortified. No one on the team knows about it, and Akaashi does his best to keep it that way.

But years of dodging hugs and casual contact come to naught in the blink of an eye and the swipe of a hand.

daisy rings and frivolous things (i am deliriously in love with you) - gabstar

Akaashi Keiji is in love. Bokuto Koutarou is a star. Everyone on Fukurodani has a gambling problem.

SakuAtsu

The MSBY Black Jackals Read Thirst Tweets - isaksara (syailendra)

Sakusa’s eyes are very dark naturally, sucking in all surrounding rays of light and crushing them in his pupils. For an athlete, he is rather pale. His lips look very pink in comparison. Atsumu is suddenly catastrophically aware that in this instance, ‘accent’ is a euphemism. “Good enough for your Olympic-size ego, Miya?”

(In which Atsumu realizes that he is attracted to Sakusa Kiyoomi in the most inconvenient way possible.)

A Liar’s Truth - internetpistol

In which Sakusa Kiyoomi is raised to believe that gay people go to hell but then takes one look at Miya Atsumu and thinks, then why the hell did God make them so fucking hot?

[cloudteawrites]

chapter: six ( 15.5k ) rating: mature (death, past abuse, eventual smut) genre: mystery | romance | hurt/comfort tags: bts x reader | ot7 x reader | hybrid | poly summary: when an estranged uncle leaves you his massive fortune you wonder if the universe is playing a joke on you. when that fortune comes with seven hybrids, you know for sure that it is. << first < previous | next > last >>

what is hybrid marking

8.2 million results. 

While scent mixing (heretofore referred to as ‘scenting’) is temporary and lasts a maximum of twelve hours if left undisturbed, scent marking (‘marking’ in common parlance) is semi-permanent. A ‘mark’ is created when the pheromones present in a hybrid’s bodily fluids are applied directly to their markee’s skin. When said chemical compounds seep below the epidermis and bond to the sweat glands found within the dermal layer of the skin, the target has been officially ‘marked’. Between domesticated hybrids and their human caretakers, this is most commonly done by applying hybrid saliva to the skin of the neck, where a human’s scent tends to be strongest. While the behavior involved in marking resembles some aspects of human foreplay, it is a non-sexual expression of mutual trust and affection. It is important to note that most hybrids of age are able to mitigate the oral secretion of pheromones and cannot mark accidentally-

“How do I look?” 

The sound of Jimin’s voice makes you jump. You fumble with your phone, trying to exit out of the website, shove it in your pocket and look at the leopard hybrid’s outfit at the same time.

“You look great!” You tell him once the device is safely tucked away.

He rolls his eyes at you. “You’ve said that about everything I’ve shown you.”

You had, but only because it was true. No matter what the trio of hybrids tried on, they all looked great. You weren’t sure what it was, but seeing them in something other than neutral sweat suits made them look even better than they already had. You were discovering they all had unique senses of fashion too. Taehyung preferred earth tones, soft fabrics and slouchy cardigans, Yoongi tended toward plaid overshirts and dark denim and Jimin had just come out of the dressing room in his sixth button down and second pair of chelsea boots. 

When the four of you had arrived at the mall that afternoon, you’d told them to go wild and call you when they were ready to check out. There was an entire section of the shopping center that catered specifically to hybrids and you were certain they’d be able to find everything they needed and more. You’d been all set to sequester yourself in a booth in the food court and indulge your hybrid research habit, but Taehyung had fixed you with a forlorn look the moment you tried to part with them and Jimin had insisted that you personally review every piece of clothing he put on. You wouldn’t deny that you were having fun, but surreptitiously trying to google what every little thing they did meant without getting caught was getting harder and harder. 

Jimin breezes past you to the semi-circle of mirrors on the far end of the fitting rooms, brushing his tail against your shins as he passes. That was another thing that had changed. Since the talk you’d had with the boys last night, it seemed like they were always finding some excuse to touch you or brush up against you . You didn’t know if it was a manifestation of their cat genes or them just wanting physical reassurance that you were there, but it seemed like every time you turned around there was a tail curling around your calf or a nose tip against your ear or a shoulder brushing your own. You were practically wreathed in them. Even Yoongi hadn’t seemed to mind when your fingertips had brushed against each other at breakfast when you’d passed him the juice. You didn’t know if you should count that as progress, but you want to. 

You’re not entirely used to physical contact and nearly every time Taehyung rubs his cheek on the top of your head or Jimin reaches out to link your fingers together, you jump. It feels strange, to have people be so blatantly physically affectionate with you. It’s not like you dislike it, exactly, it’ll just take some getting used to. Whatever adjustments you need to make, you know you’ll need to make them quickly. You don’t think the hybrids will give up on friendly hugs just because you never initiate them first.  

“Y/N-ah,”Jimin calls, catching your attention. He’s twisting this way and that on the platform, trying to catch his reflection in every possible angle. He hums in disappointment as he turns back to the front, tail waving behind him. “This collar,” he says, tugging on the offending band of bright green plastic around his neck, “-is ruining my outfit. We’ll need to get real ones today.” 

You feel like a stone has settled in your stomach. Your shoulders sag, but if the leopard hybrid notices, he doesn’t say anything. “Yeah,” you reply. “Yeah, you’re right.” In truth, you’d hoped to put it off for a little while longer. Collaring and leashing a hybrid had always seemed odd to you. After all, weren’t they people too? The law was the law, you knew, but something about publicly and visibly marking someone as property...well, the morality of it was gray at best. The temporary collars had provided you with a stay from the inevitable, but there was no avoiding it any longer, you supposed. They’d have to get collars. 

“I saw a store for them a couple shops down,” Taehyung supplies as he steps out of his dressing room in a white linen shirt and cream drawstring pants. “We could go there?” 

“That works for me...Taehyung, one of your buttons is in the wrong hole.” 

The tiger hybrid squints down at his shirt, feels blindly for the hole he missed, but can’t seem to find it. 

“No,” you tell him. “Not that one, the other- do you just want me to fix it?”

He pauses and looks up at you for a solid three seconds before giving a single, slow nod. 

You come to stand in front of him and start undoing the buttons from the top. There’s only four of them but each one you pop open reveals more and more of his honey brown skin and prominent collar bones. Your fingers brush his skin accidentally and he chuffs happily, one hand resting on your lower back as you start buttoning him up again. Heat starts crawling up your neck unbidden. Even through the fabric of your t-shirt, you can feel the warmth of his palm, how long his fingers are. He presses you closer until your arms are nearly flat against your chest as you try to finish buttoning him up. It’s hard to move squished between the insistent pressure of his hand and the- surprisingly- hard line of his body, but you make do. “There!” You pat him gently on the chest as you finish the last button. “All done.”

He dips forward and rubs his cheek against your forehead, rumbling so deep in his chest that the vibrations pass into you. “Thank you.” He releases you and pulls away, but as he does, his lips brush against your hairline. You try not to read too deep into it. 

The tiger hybrid sidles over to his friend in the mirror, wrapping his arms around the smaller man’s waist and dipping his head into his neck. Jimin reaches back and scratches behind one of his ears and your heart swells in your chest. It was nice to see them be so openly affectionate with each other. They’re so close in a way you can’t even begin to understand. It’s beautiful. 

Your phone buzzes in your pocket and you thumb the screen to life. An incoming call from Mr. Seo. “You guys keep trying stuff on,” you tell the pair, already standing to make your way out of the dressing room. “I’ve gotta take this.”  They both call at you to hurry back and you give them a shout of assent as you rush away. 

The second you’re outside the store, you answer. “Hello?”

“Ms. L/N,” Mr. Seo’s voice crackles on the other end of the line. “I trust you’ve settled in well.” It isn’t a question and the tone of his voice makes it clear that he doesn’t wish to spend what precious time he has exchanging pleasantries with you. 

“Yeah, everything’s okay.” Everything had most certainly not been okay when you’d emergency dialed him two days ago about the tiger on your couch. The text he’d sent you back six hours later had told you to figure it out. You had and you knew you weren’t his responsibility, but him tossing you in the deep end was still a sore spot for you. 

“There’s been a change of plans.” 

You grimace. Straight to it, then. “What’s going on?” 

“Black Mountain Canines- the company your uncle purchased two of the hybrids from- changed their pick-up date. They want you to come get them in person today.”

“Pick-up?” You frown. “No, they were supposed to drop them off.”

“They were,” Mr. Seo confirms, “But it’s apparently no longer profitable for them to drive all the way into Seoul to hand-deliver two of their charges. They also claim they’re incurring additional expenses by feeding and housing two hybrids who’ve already been purchased, but we’ll see about that when we arrive.”

Your anxiety spikes and your fingers wrap tighter around your phone. You’d promised the boys a whole day out. All you’d done so far was get them phones of their own and furniture for their room. There was still so much to do, so much to see. “What about Yoongi and Jimin and Taehyung?” You blurt out.

Mr. Seo sighs and his breath crackles over the receiver. “Those are the cats, I assume? I suggest you let them know sooner rather than later that they’ll have to share their space.” There’s a flurry of movement on his end of the line, the sound of someone calling his name and papers shuffling. “I have to go; they need me to look over some case files.” He tells you. “I’ll be at Haneul Tower to pick you up in three hours. Be downstairs waiting.”And the line clicks off. 

You sigh and hang up. What were you going to tell the boys? Day one of your new friendship and you were already breaking promises. 

“Trouble?” Yoongi’s voice right behind you makes you flinch and whirl on him. His ears press back against his head and he takes a step back at your sudden movements. 

“Sorry!” You tell him, forcing your spine to relax. “Sorry, I didn’t notice you there; I thought you were still shopping. ”

“I can tell,” he snarks, but there’s no heat behind it. His eyes trace the line of your shoulders, still tense and flick to the phone in your hand. “I dropped my stuff at the register. What’s going on?”

You gnaw on the inside of your cheek, nerves making your stomach ache. “C’mon,” you tell him, walking back into the store. “Let’s pay and grab some lunch. I’ll tell you when we sit down.” He follows after you a few paces behind, trying not to let worry prick in him at the anxious shift in your scent. Something was about to change, he was sure, and not entirely for the better. 

Twenty minutes later, the four of you are sitting in the food court, a mess of shopping bags at your feet and a bowl of tteokbokki between you. Yoongi and Jimin had picked out all the fish cakes first and were bickering good-naturedly over who the last one should go to, but Taehyung seemed content to just gnaw at his rice cakes. You’d hardly touched anything, your eyes flicking back to the time on your phone. 1:20 P.M. Two hours and forty minutes ‘til Mr. Seo would be at your apartment to pick you up and bring you to get two more of the hybrids your uncle had bought. You push a rice cake around on your paper plate with the end of your chopstick. Well, no point delaying the inevitable. 

“Hey, guys?” You call softly. Three pairs of ears swivel toward you immediately. The words die in your throat and your tongue feels like lead as they look at you, all their eyes focused and expectant. You clear your throat and force yourself to continue. “So...you know how I…” You search for the right word, but there’s really no other way to say it. “...inherited you guys from my uncle?” 

Taehyung’s eyes flick toward Jimin and the leopard hybrid brushes his tail against the tiger’s. Silent communication you couldn’t even begin to decipher. “Yeah,” Yoongi says, tossing his chopsticks down and leaning back in his chair. “I told them.”

That was right. What you’d blurted out at Yoongi yesterday on the street you had yet to disclose to his juniors. “Thanks, Yoongi,” You tell him, meaning every word of it. He’d spared you from yet another uncomfortable conversation. 

“...For what it’s worth, we’re glad it’s you,” Taehyung tells you, his tail twining around your ankle under the table. He looks at his hyungs for confirmation and when neither of them deny it, he settles his amber gaze back on you. “We like being here with you, even if you didn’t pick us. It’s...It’s nice.”

You can’t help the smile that tugs at your lips at his words. He beams at you, his boxy smile soft despite the sharp incisors poking his bottom lip. “I like having you guys around, too,” you admit, taking the time to meet each of their eyes. Jimin purrs as you look at him, the corners of his mouth curling. When your gaze meets Yoongi’s, his ears twitch but he doesn’t look away. He doesn’t blink either, just holds your stare with an intensity that makes heat crawl up your neck. You suddenly remember the warm stretch of his body over your’s, the sensation of his lips against your neck. You snatch your eyes away and cough to cover your lapse in speech.  “It would’ve been scary, I think, if I had to deal with all this alone.” 

You couldn’t even imagine it.That clinically clean apartment with its blank white walls and its imposing emptiness would have driven you down until you couldn’t stand it anymore. You’d always had a little pit of loneliness inside you. You didn’t know how long it’d been there. Maybe it always had been, a seed of something sad and dark at the core of your soul. You’d done well keeping it contained. You felt it in your goshiwon, but your room was small. It couldn’t grow beyond your keeping. In Oliver’s penthouse, it would’ve had endless room to sprawl and with no one to clip it back, you would’ve choked to death on vines of doubt.

“There are others,” you tell them, before you can down spiral into the mire of your own thoughts. “He bought other hybrids before he died. They weren’t supposed to be coming until next week but their company wants me to come get them today.” 

The mood at the table shifts almost immediately. Taehyung’s ears and tail sag, Jimin’s smile goes sharp at the edges and Yoongi’s lip curls. “How many others?” He asks, crossing his arms over his chest. You notice he does that when he’s nervous or uncomfortable. It’s a defense mechanism, no matter how at ease it makes him seem. 

“Four,” you answer and the bobcat hybrid’s ears tilt back in irritation. “Two are coming home today and the other two toward the end of next week.” Jimin doesn’t say anything, but you see the tip of his tail flicking back and forth. He’s annoyed. Taehyung drops a hand onto the smaller hybrid’s back and rubs circles in it, trying to soothe him. 

“Maybe it’ll be okay?” The tiger hybrid offers. He’s trying his best to be diplomatic, but you hear the strain in the deep timbre of his voice. “Having other cats around again might be nice. We used to live with a lot back at the center…”

You wince. “...they’re canines.” Almost immediately, all of their ears go flat against their skulls and they hiss in unison. Yoongi stifles himself the quickest, setting a hand on Jimin’s knee and squeezing to get the leopard hybrid to get a hold of himself. 

“Hybrids of different species don’t play well together,” he explains. “Especially not when our animals are solitary in the wild. The only reason Jimin, Tae and I are able to stand sharing the same territory is because we’ve known each other since we were kids and we’ve had to do it before.”

Before? A question forms in the back of your mind, but now isn’t the time to ask it.

“We don’t like sharing what’s ours,” Jimin continues for his hyung, interlocking his fingers with yours on the plastic table top. “It’s instinctual.”

“I know, I know.” You squeeze his hand lightly, trying to reassure him. “But the apartment is big; can’t you avoid each other starting out?”

All three of them give you a strange look and Jimin’s lips curl in a way that isn’t quite a smile. “...right,” he purrs, a little delayed. “The apartment.”

You chew on the inside of your cheek, anxiety sinking its claws into you. “I’m really sorry to spring this on you guys, I know it’s not great, but…” Your shoulders sag. “I don’t want to have promised someone a home and rip the rug out from under them, you know?” You knew what that felt like. You wouldn’t wish that feeling on your worst enemy. “I’m just...I’m worried that they’re not being treated well.”

“They were up for sale,” Yoongi drawls. “They definitely aren’t.” 

The taxi ride back to Haneul Tower is uncomfortably quiet. Jimin still holds your hand and Taehyung still leans on your shoulder, but nobody says a word. You help them carry their bags upstairs and drop them off in the master bedroom. You’d told them they could have separate rooms if they wanted, but they’d insisted on sharing, so you thought it was only fair that they get the largest room in the penthouse. Clothes went onto hangars and into closets and before you knew it, there were only ten minutes until Mr. Seo’s arrival. 

“You don’t have to go,” Taehyung huffs. He’s got you wrapped in a bear- well, you suppose a tiger hug and his cheek is mashed against the top of your head. You don’t even think he’s actively scenting you at this point, just keeping you from leaving. “Send your assistant instead and stay here with us.”

You let out a puff of laughter and pat the hybrid on the back in a way you hope is soothing. “Mr. Seo isn’t my assistant, buddy, he’s my uncle’s attorney.” You give a little tug away from him and he lets you go, albeit with a sad little mrow that makes him sound just like a disappointed cat. “I couldn’t ask him to do that. The only reason he’s coming is because they broke the contract. And I can’t drive.” 

The look Taehyung gives you is so downtrodden that you toy with the idea of calling the whole day off and staying with them- but no. You can’t bail out now, especially not with what you’d put Mr. Seo through when the first group of hybrids were delivered. “I’ll be back before you know it,” You tell him with a steadfast smile. 

“You’d better,” Jimin says, nudging the taller hybrid out of the way. Taehyung gives a half-hearted growl, but settles as Yoongi squeezes his shoulder. “The longer you’re away, the longer you’ll have to sit in the stench of those mutts.”

You frown. “Jimin-”

“Only joking,” He soothes, bringing both of your hands up to his cheeks. You don’t believe him, but you don’t press it. The leopard hybrid nuzzles into your palms, purring happily at the feeling of your skin against his. Your palms nearly burn from how warm he is. You feel a warm puff of air against your fingers and tense as Jimin presses all ten of them against his lips. 

“Jimin.” Yoongi’s voice is hard, but his junior’s lips curl up in a satisfied smile, one of his incisors pricking at the pad of your index finger. 

“Hurry back,” he murmurs. You try not to shiver at the feeling of his plush lips moving against your oversensitive fingertips. 

“I’ll do my best!” You say,  a pained smile tugging your lips apart. He hums in response and drops your hands, his fingers trailing across yours as he lets you go. 

“Hyung,” he calls over his shoulder. “Is there anything you’d like to say to Y/N-ah?”

“Don’t let them scent you.” Is all Yoongi says as he breezes toward the stairs. “You know better now.” 

It’s as much as you were expecting. “I’ll see you guys later,” You tell them as you head out the door. “Finish setting your phones up and text me if you need anything!”

True to his word, Mr. Seo is parked out front at 4 o’clock on the dot. You haven’t seen him in a little over a week and you’d almost forgotten how imposing he was. He cuts a sharp figure against the backdrop of the bustling street, dressed in all black and leaning against a brand new Buick Enclave. The poor valet stationed at the front door looks like he’s been trying to work up the courage to ask to park his car for the past twenty minutes and sags in relief as you start heading over.

The lawyer dips his head in acknowledgement at you and checks his watch. “Miracle of miracles,” he says, popping open the passenger side door for you. “You’re on time.”

“I was late one time,” you huff, sliding past him and into your seat.

“And that was enough,” he snips back, closing your door before you can come up with a retort. You grumble to yourself, but don’t press him. You know he’s right. He’d gone out of his way to help you and you’d put him out. 

“I’m sorry,” you tell him as he settles into his seat and reaches for his seatbelt. “It won’t happen again; I know you’ve got other things to do.”

He stills and looks at you over the gold frames of his glasses. For a long moment he holds your gaze, unblinking. You gnaw on the inside of your cheek. Had you done something wrong? 

Finally Mr. Seo blinks and finishes buckling himself in. “I apologize for staring, I wasn’t sure if I’d heard you correctly.” He push starts his car and pulls away from the curb. “I never thought I’d see the day a L/N would apologize to me.” He edges the car into the steady stream of Seoul traffic and you’re off, zooming toward the freeway.

Silence fills the car again, but as Mr. Seo takes on-ramp, you work up the courage to ask your question. “Did Oliver never apologize to you?”

Mr. Seo snorts and it’s such an undignified sound that you almost can’t believe it comes from him. “You could tell your uncle the sky was blue and he’d argue that it was red until he was. And your grandfather-” He seems to catch himself, reigning back whatever meager bits of his personality had managed to slip through the cracks in his normally flawless veneer. You’re all ears.

Up until a week and a half ago, you hadn’t known you had any family, much less an uncle who owned buildings and bugattis. Now you were finding out that you had a grandfather too. “What about my grandfather?” The word feels strange in your mouth. It’d been years since you’d followed the word ‘my’ up with any type of familial relation. 

Mr. Seo cuts his eyes at you, and flicks them back to the front. “Nothing,” he replies, clearly done talking about him. “I spoke out of turn.” He reaches forward and turns on the radio, the sound of national news filling the silence.

You pout and slouch in your seat, disappointment setting in as the promise of new information slipped out of your grasp.

The rest of the drive is easy. Mr. Seo takes the highway out of Seoul and up into the foothills but you’re asleep before he even finds the exit. You’d slept more in the past two days than you had in the previous three weeks, but it seemed like years of bad habits were catching up to you.

Last night, you’d passed out halfway through the second movie snuggled up between Jimin and Taehyung. They’d been so warm and soft and the quiet thrumming of their heartbeats had lulled you to sleep before you knew what was happening.You’d woken up with them still curled around you and -maybe most surprising of all- Yoongi plating breakfast in the kitchen.

Still, it seemed even twelve hours of the best sleep you’d gotten in years and a peaceful morning devoid of stress -for the most part- hadn’t been enough.

You wake up just as the asphalt transitions into gravel, the sound of it crunching under the tires and the car’s shaking waking you up. You’re bleary-eyed and confused, but a sign up ahead snaps you to wakefulness. Standing like a guardian over a chain link fence topped with barbed wire is a metal sign, imposing as it is tall: Black Mountain K-9s, written in stark font.

“We’re here,” Mr. Seo says, as if it’s not obvious. He kills the engine and without its purring to distract you, you feel nerves starting to boil in your belly. What kind of place was this? You half expect sinister organ music to kick on and lightning to start flashing from black clouds. Neither of those things happen, though. The sky remains startlingly clear and the only things you can pick up are the sounds of whistles being blown, dozens of people doing call and response, and one voice, louder than all the others screaming for people to ‘Run faster! Get those knees up!’

You pop the door and step out of the car before Mr. Seo can open it for you and head around to the nose of the car, taking in the compound. 

“This facility produces some of the highest caliber bodyguards in the country,” He says, coming to stand beside you. The attorney rebuttons his suit jacket and flicks his sleeves up before settling his arms over his chest. “Politicians, celebrities, even a few former presidents all have hybrids from this training center.”

“It looks more like a prison,” You remark, nodding toward the barbed wire. “First big cat hybrids, now this...Why didn’t Oliver just get regular pets if he was lonely? Was he worried someone was after him?” 

“Anything I can tell you would be pure speculation,” He replies, walking away from you and heading for the callbox. “Your uncle very rarely confided in me.”

“But you were his attorney.” 

For just a second, the tight grip Mr. Seo has on his composure slips. His lips press together and his shoulders sag- but just as quickly as it’d lapsed, his mask is in place again. “Yes,” he says after a beat. “I was.” And he presses the button on the call box before you can pester him with any more questions about the dead men he’d known.

The call box crackles to life, speakers squealing with feedback. You flinch and slap your hands over your ears to protect them from the splitting sound. Mr. Seo doesn’t react at all and you’re stunned, wondering how he can stand it.

“Seo Seunghan and Y/N L/N for Lim Hangyeol.” 

The person on the other end doesn’t respond. The speaker cuts and a second later, the metal gate before you starts rolling to the side, pushed by invisible hands. It’s like a curtain going up at the theater. 

Before you lies a wide, dusty yard, devoid of any plant life. The thick-trunked trees and lush grasses of the surrounding mountainside had been stripped down to the roots here. All that remains are a few weeds poking out around the base of the long metal buildings that ring the fence, and even those seem like an intrusion. People are making use of the space in whatever way they can. A group of people with matching cropped black ears and docked tails run past you in four straight lines, all perfectly in step with each other. Over to your right, there’s a pack of teenagers working in pairs to scale a ten-foot tall sheer wooden wall and in the center of the field, twenty kids are running through taekwondo forms, supervised by a widely smiling instructor.

You’re in awe of it all. Every single person is like a cog in a well-oiled machine, all in the same black tactical pants and compression shirt. You’d never seen so many hybrids in one place before and certainly not all of the same breed.

Mr. Seo places a hand in the center of your back, steering you away from staring and toward a squat cement building.You let him lead you.

“When we get inside,” the lawyer begins, his voice quieter than you’ve ever heard it. “Let me speak first. If we can get him to admit to breaching the contract right away, it’ll be much easier to get him to agree to a settlement.”

You frown at that. “Why would we settle?” You ask him. “It’s not like I need the money.”

“It’s a matter of principle, Ms. L/N.” He sighs, pulling open the heavy metal door and ushering you into the building. “He did something wrong, and it’s most easy for him to bear the brunt of atonement financially. Without requiring damages be paid for breaches, contract law would collapse.” 

“Can’t you just have him apologize?”

Mr. Seo’s mouth twists up like he’s just tasted something unpleasant. “As you attorney, it is my duty to advise you against accepting restitution in the form of an apology. You’ll get a reputation for being a pushover.” 

You wanted to be anything but. “Alright, alright,” you concede, “Do whatever you think is best.”

The building you’ve ducked into seems to be an office. Along one wall are a set of metal folding chairs doing their best impression of a waiting room. Along the other is a metal door covered in peeling paint and one suspicious dent bearing a plaque that reads ‘DIRECTOR LIM’. Set between you and it is a desk covered in a mess of paperwork. An old desktop stands among it like an island in the ocean and middle aged hybrid woman in coke bottle glasses is hunched before it, tapping away at the keyboard at a mind-boggling speed. One of her ears twitches as the pair of you approach. 

“Take a seat,” she orders in a reedy voice, not bothering to look up from her work. “The Director will be with you shortly.”

“Send them in, Eunjung!” Someone shouts from behind the metal door  just as she’s finished. She doesn’t look up or stop typing or even acknowledge you two again. Mr. Seo takes it upon himself to breeze past her desk and open the door for you. 

The office is militaristically organized, all right angles and bare metal surfaces. There’s a black leather couch that’d seen better days to your left as you enter, a half empty water cooler to your right. Bookshelves lined with trophies and textbooks dominate the western wall. You scan the titles as you pass: Predatory Instinct: The Teaching and Training Canines, The Utility of Force, On Raising Hybrids, The Art of War, all dangerous and daunting as the man they belonged to.

Lim Hangyeol is the most grizzled man you’ve ever seen and the only other human besides yourself and Mr. Seo in the compound, it seems. He looks like a drill sergeant from an old action movie, his salt and pepper hair buzzed short and his face craggy with frown lines. There’s a semicircle of pockmark scars marring the skin of his right cheek and as you get closer, you realize they’re teeth marks. You shoot a concerned look to Mr. Seo, but he’s more focused on giving the director a shallow bow than allaying any of your fears. 

“Director,” He says, straightening back up. “Thank you for having us-”

“Spare me the bullshit,” The older man orders, kicking back his office chair and sinking back into it. “Take a seat. Let’s talk business.” 

A cold smile settles on your attorney’s lips and you see a cord twitching in his jaw, but he merely nods and replies in a breezy voice, “Of course.” 

The two of you do as you told, settling into two metal chairs in front of his desk. These ones are nicer than the folding ones in the waiting room, but no more comfortable. You try to slide yours forward only to find that it’s bolted to the floor. 

“Stops the dogs from throwin’ em when they get bad news,” Director Lim tells you as you uselessly tug at the legs. “Got tired of replacing windows.”

You grimace. If the awards on the bookshelf, what Mr. Seo had told you and the dozens of hybrids running boot camp drills outside were any indication, the man before you must’ve had some idea what he was doing. You didn’t end up providing security for high profile public figures without a smidge of credibility, you knew, but the bite marks on his cheek, the little crack about people throwing chairs at him and the way he’d referred to them as ‘dogs’ didn’t inspire confidence in you. 

This was your first time visiting a place that produced hybrids, you realized. You’d never even been into a shelter before and certainly not a breeding center. Were they all like this? Devoid of anything soft or comforting, rigid with rules and regulations? Had Yoongi, Jimin and Taehyung come from a place like this? You don’t know and you’re not sure you’d like the answer if you did. 

“Thank you for agreeing to meet with us on such short notice,” Mr. Seo starts, popping open the hinges on his briefcase and pulling out a few sheaves of paper. “After the sudden cancellation of your company’s contract with Ms. L/N, I was concerned for the state of our business relationship.” He slides one of the packets across the desk to the director. 

“If I remember correctly,” Director Lim says, scanning the lines of ink and unintelligible legalese, “Me and your boss signed for delivery, not me and whoever this little girl is you brought.” 

Your eyes narrow and your lips curl, but before you can give voice to the nasty thing crawling up your throat, Mr. Seo gives a subtle shake of his head and taps you twice on the knee, out of eyeshot of the director. You grumble, but cage it behind your teeth. 

“See?” The man jabs one gnarled finger at the page, right over your late uncle’s flourishing signature. “It says it right there: L/N Oliver. Last I checked, he was dead. I’m not holding on to a dead man’s dogs. ”

That same muscle tenses in Mr. Seo’s jaw. “The contract states that Black Mountain Canines would deliver the hybrids my client purchased to his residence on December the eighteenth and that they would be received by a proxy if he was unavailable. You were made aware of the fact that he was unavailable, as well as the fact that he now has a proxy-

“I’ll pay the goddamn fine!” The Director barks, throwing his hands up in the air. “Christ above, I don’t know why he wanted those two fuck-ups in the first place, but I don’t want them on my property a second longer.” 

You shoot Mr. Seo a look of confusion, but he just watches, blasé, as the Director rifles through his desk drawers. The man finds what he’s looking for and drops two manila folders on top of the contract. “The pair of them are useless. If it weren’t for my reputation, I’d’ve had them both sent to shelters years ago. Or put down, but you know how touchy the law is about that.”

“I don’t.” You say, your voice edging dangerously close to a snarl. It slips out before you can stop it. Mr. Seo shoots you a warning look and you ball your fists up in your sweater sleeves, fingernails biting crescent moons into your palms with the effort of keeping your mouth shut. 

You can’t stand this man, you decide. He’s awful. You should’ve known that from the moment you saw elementary school aged hybrids stumbling through taekwondo drills with their ears taped and bandages on their tails. You’re going to take whatever hybrids Oliver bought, get them the fuck out of there and never look back. 

If Director Lim had heard you growl at him, he gives no sign of it, just flips open the folders. “To be honest, I should be paying you to take them off my hands. They’ve been nothing but a pain in my ass since they aged out of training. I told your uncle he could have his pick of the litter for what he was paying, but he wanted a wide-eyed buffoon and a mutt who’d rip your hand off soon as look at you.” Clipped to the insides are photos of two men, staring back at you in black and white. 

One has the same black and tan cropped ears as every other hybrid you’ve seen thus far. Unlike them, he’s smiling. His eyes are little upturned crescent moons and he beams at you through the photo paper. There’s so much light in his face it’s nearly blinding. 

The other is not nearly as inviting. The photo is taken at an odd angle and it’s blurry at the edges, like whoever took it was much shorter than the subject and had to zoom in to even get the shot. His ears, larger than any of the other hybrids and longer furred, are pinned back against his head. His jaw is clenched and he glowers down into the lens, one eye soot black and the other piercing blue. 

There are stats listed on the pages behind their photos: height, weight, shot records and the like. Among them, you see their call signs, highlighted in yellow: Hope and Monster. 

“I don’t know where I went wrong with him,” the director says, tapping Hope’s photo. “He went through all the training, passed all the tests, but when it comes down to it, he just doesn’t have the instinct.” He gives a single shake of his head, clicks the tip of his tongue against his teeth. “No one wants a guard dog that’d sooner talk an intruder’s ear off than actually guard what he’s supposed to. He’s not good for much but nannying the pups, but he’s too soft on them too.”

A light bulb clicks on and you realize the hybrid in question had been the one instructing the kids outside in the center of the yard, his tail wagging a mile a minute as they completed another form correctly.

“Now this bastard…” the director continues, jamming a finger onto the second photo with so much force, it rattled the cup of pens on his desk. “Is my biggest failure.” He crosses his arms and kicks back in his chair, his dislike of the hybrid in question obvious. “His mother was the cornerstone of this facility for nearly a decade. I sold her pups to assemblymen and actors alike. Centers around the country wanted pups with her genetics. If it weren’t for her, we’d never have grown to this size.” He sounds wistful as he spreads his hands out, gesturing around himself like a king taking in his holdings. “But all good things come to an end,” He sighs. “A pack of wild hybrids settled a little higher up on the mountain.” His face darkens and his lips twist. “Wolves,” he snarls with all the disdain he can muster. 

“All that about them being noble and self-sacrificing? Complete and utter bullshit,” He scoffs. “They’re transient lowlifes who’d slit your throat as soon as look at you. At first I didn’t care. They stayed on their side of the mountain and I stayed on mine, but then they started sneaking down here at night to steal my food and fuck my dogs. By the time I managed to get the cops out here, they’d cleared out and my top breeder had gone with them.”

He let out a low chuckle and shook his head. “I tell you, I thought I was ruined. But wouldn’t you know it, she came stumbling back here six months later, barefoot and howling to be let in and heavy with some wild thing’s pup.” Director Lim snaps both the folders shut and slides them to you across the desk. “The thing about breeding hybrids is, the money’s all in the bloodlines. No one wants a dog with mystery genetics. The only way to solve that problem is to cut it off at the root- but it was already too late by the time she got here.” 

You feel sick to your stomach. You hope he isn’t implying what you think he is- that hybrid children he hadn’t planned out himself were mistakes in need of correction- but you know he is. Deep in your gut you know.

“And she spoiled him. She let him run roughshod over everyone and everybody in this compound. I tried telling her wild hybrids need a firmer hand- he certainly did if we were gonna break that wolf he’s got inside him, but she wouldn’t hear it. I tried to crop him with the other pups his age, he gave me these,” he said, gesturing to the teeth marks in his cheeks. “We keep him shut up away from the others, now, in the back when he can’t bother anyone. He gets his meals delivered but we don’t ever let him out.” The grizzled man shakes his head. “A drain on resources is what he is.”

“And his mother?” You ask, quietly. 

“Eunjung?” he questions. “You met her on the way in.” The director stands and unclips a ring of keys from his belt buckle, making his way around the desk and gesturing for you and Mr. Seo to follow. “I’ve got her doing desk work now. Gotta keep her close so she doesn’t cause any more trouble.” He pushes open the door to his office, barks something at his secretary and steps outside, not looking back to see if you two are following. 

You shoot Mr. Seo a look before you stand and he meets it, evenly. “We’ll discuss this in the car,” he says, stuffing papers back into his briefcase and flicking the clasps shut. Oh, you most certainly will discuss ‘it’ in the car. 

You don’t really know what it is or where to even begin. The kids with bandaged ears? The fact that Director Lim seemingly decided who was allowed to see the sun and who wasn’t? You think back to the conversation you’d had with Jimin, Taehyung and Yoongi last night. Right now, it seems years away, in some unreachable, idyllic past before you knew how breeding centers worked and how security hybrids were made. You feel foolish. Who were you to try to get them to let go of their pain and their hurt? If what they’d been through was even a little like what was going on here, they wouldn’t be able to for a long time. You’re angry. You’re disgusted. You are unquantifiably fucking sad. 

You pass Eunjung on your way out. In your time in the director’s office, she’s pulled her ash brown hair into a low ponytail at the nape of her neck. Peeking out of the collar of her sweatshirt you can see a faded scar in the shape of a ring, little puncture marks pale and glossy. It looked similar to the one on the director’s cheek, but this one was a complete circle and not ragged at all, like she’d stayed completely still while it was given. Teeth marks. 

You swallow. You want to do something, to give her some words of encouragement, but you have no idea what to say. You still don’t as you slow to a stop beside her desk, but you open your mouth to speak anyway. “I’m sorry,” You tell her, with all the sincerity in your heart. 

She doesn’t answer, but one cropped ear flicks toward you and her fingers slow in their incessant race across her keyboard. 

You turn to go. Mr. Seo was holding the door open for you and you can hear the director barking orders at a group of trainees to run an obstacle course faster. Just as you set foot over the threshold, she speaks. Her voice is so quiet, you have to strain to hear her over the steady clack-click-clack of her nails on the keys. 

“He likes green things,” she says, not looking up from her work. “And old books.” 

You look over your shoulder at her. Her face is a mask of neutrality, her eyes clear and her mouth set in a relaxed line. She looks fine, but there’s an ocean of meaning behind her words. You see her, just for a moment, as she’d been all those years ago, barefoot in the snow and begging for shelter, her stomach full with one of the moon’s own children. You commit the sight of her to memory. Then you turn and you go.

The director is waiting outside, shielding his eyes from the sun and regaling Mr. Seo with some long-winded explanation on the best way to treat hip dysplasia in Doberman hybrids. “Where to?” you ask, effectively cutting him off mid-sentence. 

The man gives you a disgruntled look but despite the anxiety you feel spiking in your belly, you meet it evenly. Once upon a time, anyone in a position of authority looking at you the way he was would’ve sent you into a tailspin of self-doubt and nerves, leaving you shivering as your heartbeat thrummed in your ears, warning you of non-existent danger. If you were honest, it still did- but you didn’t have the luxury of running away and hiding anymore, not when there were people who needed you. 

“Hope’s bags are in the barracks. He just needs to grab them, and he can be on his merry way,” The direction grunts. “Monster’s still locked up, so I’ll-”

“I’ll go.” You can feel Mr. Seo stiffen beside you. 

“Ms. Y/N-”

“If he’s really that aggressive,” you start, your eyes not leaving the director’s for a moment. “Wouldn’t it be better for me to meet him now instead of when we’re packed into a car on a two hour car ride?” Director Lim narrows his eyes at you, but you don’t falter. You hold your hand out for the key. Your boldness surprises you. He drops the key ring into your open palm and you wrap your fingers around it, stuffing it in your pocket before he can snatch them back. You turn on your heels and march off in the direction he tilts his head in, nothing but a hiss of your name from Mr. Seo’s lips to accompany you. 

You walk quickly, eyes straight and willing your legs to go faster with every stride. It’s a long way across the compound but the less time you spend walking, the less time you have to stew in anxiety. None of the hybrids training in little packs spread across the yard pay you any mind- except for Hope. 

Your path takes you directly behind the group of kids he’s working with. You give them a wide berth, not wanting to disturb them, but you get a little distracted. Your steps slow for just a moment as you drink him in. He’s tall- the same height as Taehyung, if you’re judging it right, but there’s an ease about him the tiger hybrid hasn’t yet mastered. Everything about Taehyung is pulled in. He’s always coiled tight, like he’s preparing to spring forward at any moment, all his energy drawn into the center of his being. Even last night, when you’d been cuddled up with him on the couch, he’d pulled you tight against his side, shifting and rearranging himself til you both fit on one cushion. He’d held you tight through both films, his tail curled around the both of you and his spine tight, like if he let himself relax for a moment, you’d both turn to dust on the wind. 

Hope has no such fear. Everything about him is spread wide open, from the heart-shaped smile on his lips to his arms as he demonstrates a series of punches to his little pack of students. They all watch him with rapt attention, ears perked up and bandaged tails wagging. One of them asks him a question and he laughs, ruffles their hair. He laughs in a way you’ve never seen before, shoulders shaking like he can’t contain the force of it alone. It makes your heart flip. 

His ears twitch, picking up the change in the cadence of your footsteps. He looks up and your eyes meet for the first time. He looks surprised to see you, for a moment, face blank- but then it melts into a soft smile, brimming with affection you’ve done nothing to earn. You snatch your gaze away and fix it to the dirt in front of you, embarrassed at being caught. Out of the corner of your eye, you can see him cock his head to the side in confusion, but he doesn’t go after you. All the better, you’re all but running away from him now. 

You shuffle across the compound in a blur of scuffed sneakers and frayed nerves. You barely give yourself time to look up at the small cinder block building before you, shoving the key in the padlock before you can lose what unearned confidence you have left. You twist it, yank the rusted thing open, take a deep breath and enter.

You don’t know what you’d been expecting, but it’s certainly not what you find. The way Director Lim had spoken about him and this place, you’d been expecting cobwebs on the ceiling, blood spatters on the wall and rusty nails on the floor. What’s before you is almost entirely the opposite.

The room is a veritable Eden. 

There are vines climbing every available wall, wrapping around structural posts and digging their way between concrete blocks. Every surface is crammed full of flowering plants in makeshift pots: lilies in old water jugs, violets in a worn out boot, black-eyed susans dripping orange petals from an upturned helmet. The floor is in a similar state, ferns and foxgloves turning what little space around his bed there is into a meadow. It’s beautiful. 

“He likes green things,” you marvel, stepping into the room and pushing the door shut behind you. It seemed every living thing that’d been uprooted to expand the compound had found a second life here, sheltered from the Director’s violence. Maybe the hybrid who lived here had too. 

A plant different from all the others catches your eye. It’s set up on the cardboard box serving as his bedside table and it’s the only one in a real pot from what you can tell. It looks just like a miniature tree, complete with knobs on it’s trunk and tiny leaves. You let out a little sound of wonder and crouch in front of it, your fingers reaching out on their own to trail across the delicate branches-

A massive hand wraps around your wrist, stopping you cold. “Don’t touch that.” 

You hadn’t heard him approach, but now you knew he was there. You could feel his presence behind you, heavy and warm. He’s looming over you. You swallow and make your arm go limp in his grip. No need to give him a reason. “I won’t,” You tell him. “Will you please let go of my wrist?”

He drops your arm without protest and relief floods your body. You weren’t sure if there was a hybrid version of lockjaw and you certainly weren’t itching to find out. You sit back on your heels and struggle to your feet, still hyper aware of the person behind you, his eyes boring holes into the back of your head. By the time you turn around, he’s back where he came from, standing in the entrance for a bathroom you hadn’t seen, half hidden behind a curtain of vines. 

He looks different than the others. You’d been expecting that, but the full-length fluffy tail held stiffly behind his back and the long-furred ears pointed away from you are still a surprise. His fur, instead of being in rigid black and tan points, is marked by whorls of black, brown and gray. Instead of the lean musculature all the other hybrids had -all trim waists and narrow ankles- he’s sturdier, his shoulders broad and the veins in his forearms popping as he clenches his fists. He’s looking at you with that mismatched glare, his chin tilted toward his chest and his eyes shining aquamarine and obsidian. 

“If you’re new,” he starts, voice raspy. “They should’ve told you: you’re supposed to knock before you come in.”

“No, I’m not-”

“You can leave the food over there.” He nods toward a little plastic folding table jammed into one corner. It’s the one surface in his room that’s devoid of plants and there’s nothing on it besides a metal cafeteria tray, licked clean. “I won’t move when your back is turned.”

“I’m not here to deliver your food.”

He frowns, brows drawing together as his shoulders tense. “Then why are you…?”

You ball your hands up in your sweater sleeves and turn to face him full on. “I’m here to take you home with me.” You tell him. “They didn’t tell you?”

He laughs, but it’s a cold sound, devoid of joy. “Nobody tells me anything.”

Based on the short conversation you’d had with Director Lim, his sudden cancellation of contracts and the way he seemed ready to bulldoze over anything and everyone that didn’t fit his agenda, he didn’t seem the sharing type. Still it was hard to believe he hadn’t told him he’d be leaving the compound that’s been his home for over twenty years. 

“You don’t have to come with me,” you add, softly. “If you don’t want to. I know I’m a stranger. But you can leave-”

“I can’t go anywhere.” He taps the collar around his neck. At first, you’d thought it was the same as the ones every other hybrid had been wearing. You can see now that it isn’t. Theirs had all been leather with thin silver buckles holding them in place. His was leather too, but the band was broader and double-layered. There’s a little box on the side with hinges and a small drawing of a lighting bolt. A shock collar. 

Your stomach turns. 

You take a slow step toward him, but the second you do, his ears go flat against his head and he pulls his lips back, revealing sharp teeth. You freeze, hands held up and the keys dangling from your thumb. “I have the keys,” you say, extending them toward him. 

His eyes flick from your face, to the keys in your hand and back again, like he doesn’t believe what’s happening, like he can’t believe you’d actually want him free. The silence drags out into a little eternity before he speaks again. “If I try to unlock it, it’ll shock me.”

You blink up at him and risk another slow step forward, hoping you’ve caught his meaning correctly. This time, he doesn’t growl but his ears stay pinned back as he watches you through narrowed eyes. You close the distance between the two of you. 

When you were six, your mom scraped together enough money to take you to Busan for your birthday. You’d spent the day down at the beach, building sand castles with sea shell windows and wading through tide pools. After the sun had set, someone had set off fireworks and you’d watched them cuddled up in your mom’s arms, eyes wide and filled with a riot of colors you had no name for. It’s strange, you know. The ocean is miles away, but that’s what he smells like: the sea and the sand, and the last curls of smoke from homemade bottle rockets. He smells like that day. 

You lift your hands to the clasp on his neck and slide the key home. You twist it and the collar falls to the ground, a monster that can’t hurt him anymore. His skin is warm under your fingers, but puckered with scar tissue. There’s a ring of it around his neck, branching with whatever current had run through him in different directions. There’s no way this was legal, no way anyone with half a heart could treat another person like this. Your fingers trail one of the splits over his adam’s apple and he swallows beneath your touch, snatching your wrist again. 

“Dont.” His voice is cold. You blink, shaking off whatever spell you’d been under and shuffle back quickly, eager to give him space. He cradles his throat with one long-fingered hand, massaging the skin. He rolls his neck and you look away. You shouldn’t stare; the last thing you want is to make him uncomfortable. “I’ll go with you,” he rasps, answering the question before you can ask it again.

You gape for a second. You really hadn’t expected it to be that easy. “Really?” You can’t stop a note of relief from creeping into your voice.

“Anywhere’s better than here.” He answers back. So, you were a means to an end. It doesn’t bother you. You’ll be whatever you need to be to get him away from this place and that man who seemed to only want to drive him down. 

“Do you need time to pack, or-?”

He gives a firm shake of his head. “There’s nothing from this place I want to keep.” And that’s the end of it. You push open the door and stride back out into the cold mountain air, trying your best to exude the confidence you know you lack. The hybrid slinks behind you, head hunched between his shoulders and every step stiff. He hesitates at the threshold and looks up at you, uncertainty written in the rigid line of his spine. He’s nervous. He has every right to be. 

How long had he spent in that little cinderblock room, shut away from every living thing? How long had he spent being told that he was a monster? You didn’t believe it, not for one second. No one who was as violent as the director had painted him out to be could’ve raised that garden. 

He leans out of the door frame, sniffs the air and lurches forward, out of the shadow of his room, His shoulders bunch up even higher around his head and he goes stiff like he’s waiting for a shock or a shot or a shout- but none comes. The sun is still shining and he’s barefoot in the sand, standing for the first time in years under the open sky. He exhales in a short puff and it looks like he’s going to walk beside you- but he turns on his heels on goes back inside. 

You make a little noise of distress in the back of your throat. Had he changed his mind? Did he not want to come with you anymore? You go to call his name out of concern- but realize you don’t know it. All you have is the call sign he’d been given and you sure as fuck aren’t calling him ‘Monster’. You don’t have to flounder for long. He comes back out two seconds later, cradling the bonsai that’d caught your attention to his chest. 

“I’ll take this,” he mutters, shuffling into place behind you. You can’t smother the smile that starts tugging at your lips. Yeah, no one hateful would hold a little tree with as much tenderness as an infant. 

You give him a little nod. “There’s a terrace where I live,” you tell him, starting your trek across the yard once again. “It’s got a garden and a little greenhouse on it. It’s not very big, and it’s not as pretty as your’s, but you could grow new things there, if you wanted.”

His ears twitch in response, but he keeps his glower firmly focused on the plant in his arms as he shuffles along beside you. It’s then you notice he’s barefoot. “Do you wanna go back and get your shoes?” You ask, trying to make the question sound as innocuous as possible.

“Don’t have any,” he grumbles back. “Don’t need them; I never go outside.” 

Alright, that was understandable. Your first stop when you got back into the city would be a shoe store to get him a pair to wear- or maybe not with the way he kept flinching every time a whistle blew and his ears were swivelling like satellites at each new sound that reached them. You chew the inside of your lip. You don’t want to ask, but you know you should. Better to rip the bandaid off now, than get surprised later. “How long were you shut in for?”

“Fourteen.” He bites out. 

“...weeks?” You venture. There's a hopeful uptick at the end of your words. Even that would’ve been horrible, even that would be worthy of the litany of profanity you’re mentally lobbing at Director Lim- but it’s still better than the truth. 

The hybrid cuts a flat look at you out of the corner of his eyes. “Years.” 

A wall of your scent hits him like a freight train, vacillating between the thick, cloying odor of sadness and the burn of anger. His nose wrinkles at it, brows drawing together in confusion. 

However little you might’ve known about hybrids, however limited your view of them was, you knew they weren’t supposed to be locked up. Domesticated hybrids like hamsters and cats might’ve been fine inside a house all day, assuming they still had regular interaction with people- but dogs weren’t. And he was half wolf. Wild, he’d have had dozens of square miles to roam over, and he’d been limited to a four-by-four yard room for fourteen years. Your goshiwon was a similar size, but it hadn’t been your whole world. All he’d had was one tiny window and what narrow view he’d managed to glimpse in the doorway when his meals were delivered. 

You open your mouth to say something, anything, but you’re cut off by a scream of delight and a snarl keying up in the hybrid next to you’s chest. Your jaw snaps shut with a click. 

A few yards ahead, there’s a group of kids wrestling in a massive pile. They’re all giggling and rolling over each other, tails wagging a mile a minute as they play bite and make grabs for the person at the center of their puppy pile. A head of black hair and a pair of cropped ears pop up and you see that it’s Hope, smiling bright as the sun as his students try to pin him. 

“You can’t leave!” One particularly determined kid yips, adamantly pushing his shoulder back to the sand. “Who’s gonna teach us?”

Hope just laughs.”Lisa is gonna teach you with the older kids-“

A chorus of disappointed barks and howls breaks out. “Ms. Lisa’s classes are too hard!” A little girl complains.

“Yeah!” Someone else chimes in. “And she’s strict!” 

The hybrid ruffles both kid’s hair affectionately, careful of their bandaged ears. “Just because she won’t let you get away with skipping night practice doesn’t mean she’s strict,” he laughs. He’s only met with more grumbles and complaints. 

It warms your heart to see. Even if these kids were at the mercy of their director -for now, at least- it was good that they had him to rely on. Your eyes meet and the sheer force of light in his face makes your own heat up. You look away, but he’s spotted you. He disentangles himself from the mess of kids and draws himself up to his full height. He’s in the same uniform he was in before, albeit with a black tactical bag now strapped to his back. He takes a step toward you and the wolfdog hybrid's ears go flat against his skull. He’s not deterred. “Joonie?”  It takes you a second to realize he’s talking to the hybrid next to you. “Kim Namjoon, is that you?” Hope takes one step forward and the hybrid - Namjoon - takes a step back to counter him. Hope looks like he’s going to advance again, but a small pair of hands wrapped around one of his own stops him. 

A little girl is holding on to him. She can’t be more than six years old. Her tail is still long and her ears are still floppy and she looks so small in her child-sized boots and cargo pants. “Mr. Hobi,” she whines, her head craned back to look up at him. “Please don’t go.”

He falters. His eyes flick from the pair of you back down to her, then he crouches, holds both of her hands in his. “I have to, Sowon-ah,” he says softly. 

She sniffles pitifully and juts out her lower lip.”But why?” 

It’s a fair question. You’re about to tell him that he doesn’t have to come with you if he  doesn’t want to, but he beats you to the punch. “Because it’s my job, sweetheart,” he tells her, smiling softly.

“Y-your job is to teach us,” she hiccups back, face growing blotchy as tears well up in her eyes. Hope swipes one of them away with his thumbs. 

“I teach you so you can grow up well and protect your person, right?” She nods, little hands balling the fabric of her cargo pants up in her fists. “Right. Well this,” he continues, turning and looking at you with a soft smile. “Is my person. And I’ve gotta go make sure she stays safe.” 

You feel your heart jump into your throat. He’s looking at you like you hung the stars in the sky and you don’t deserve it. You’ve done nothing to warrant that much unearned loyalty. Sowon rubs at her eyes with the back of her hands and Hope pulls her into a tight hug. 

“Ah, don’t cry, Sowon! You’ve gotta make sure you get stronger so someone takes you home, okay? You don’t wanna get old and still be here like me, right?” He squeezes her and goes to stand, but gets mobbed by his students again, all wanting their own hugs and making him swear to write them letters. It takes another five minutes of tearful goodbyes and Director Lim approaching for them to turn him loose.

“Get back to your training, all of you!” He barks, stomping out of the office and slamming the door, Mr. Seo on his heels. The kids scatter to the four winds almost instantly, not wanting to be underfoot for whatever scolding the director was about to deal out. Hope’s face remains the same but you catch his ears droop just a little as his students leave him. The wolfdog hybrid- Namjoon, you remind yourself- on the other hand has his ears flat against his skull. A growl bubbles up in his chest and rips past his lips. It’s a dark, full bodied thing that has you taking a step back and Hope shrinking with a whine. 

“Joonie-” he pleads. 

“Don’t fucking call me that.” All the fur on Namjoon’s body is standing on end, from the points of his ears to the tip of his tail. Even his hair has fluffed out. His mismatched eyes are narrowed, lips pulled back in a snarl that reveals his incisors and all that fury, all that rage, is leveled on Director Lim. 

To his credit, the grizzled man doesn’t shrink back an inch before the enraged hybrid. His lips twist and he yanks a little remote out of his pocket, mashing a red button in the center. Namjoon flinches, his hands fly to his neck- but nothing happens. The shock collar is gone and the director has no power over him anymore. 

The man in question’s eyes widen, flicking between the remote to the column of Namjoon’s throat, now devoid of his one element of control. “Where’s his collar?” He demands. “How the hell did you get your collar off?” He advances on the tall hybrid, his hand in the air and though he doesn’t stop snarling, Namjoon ducks his head, anticipating the blow. 

You don’t know what moves you. Maybe it’s Hope pleading for it all to ‘stop, just stop!’. Maybit’s how Namjoon knows exactly how to move when he’s about to get hit. Maybe it’s your own lack of self-preservation. Whatever it is, you blink and you’re in front of Namjoon, your hand up and clutching the director’s forearm, stopping him from striking the hybrid behind you. You’re not strong enough to stop him, not fully. Your elbow buckles in and you stumble back, your back pressing into the wolfdog hybrid’s chest.

The director yells something at you, red flooding his face. You can’t hear him over the rushing of blood in your ears, the pounding of your heart. You force a dry swallow down your throat, put on your bravest face and glare up at him. “Don’t hurt him anymore.”

He reaches out with his free hand to tug you out of the way, but before he can touch you, Hope is there. He presses close to your side and holds the director’s wrist firm, his eyes on the sand and his shoulders hunched up by his ears.

Director Lim looks angry enough to spit. “Hell of a time for you to grow a backbone,” he snarls at Hope, making the doberman hybrid flinch. “I want all four of you off my property now.” He snatched his arms free and you don’t miss the nasty glare he casts at Namjoon. “And if this mutt ever shows his face around here again, I’ll-”

“Director Lim,” Mr. Seo cuts in, his voice cool. “You’ve made yourself clear; we’ll leave. You needn’t make threats.” There’s an underlying warning in the attorney’s voice. The director locks his jaw.

“Get out.” He breathes. Hope ducks around him, his head low and his docked tail pressed close to his back. If he could tuck it, you think he would. You follow after him, eyes fixed straight ahead and your back ramrod straight. He might’ve scared the shit out of you, but you weren’t going to let him see that. Mr. Seo fixes you with a hard look and the second you’re within arms reach, he presses a hand to your back and ushers you toward the gate. The only one who remains is Namjoon.

He looks like his anger has rooted him to the spot. His ears are still flat against his head, his lip still curled. 

“Do it, boy,” the director taunts. “Give me a reason-”

“Namjoon.” At the sound of his name, his ears prick up and you turn around. It’d come not from Hope- which you’d expected, seeing as he seemed to be the only one who actually knew his fellow hybrid’s name- but from the open door of the office building where Eunjung stood. She looks at him, her expression unreadable and he stares back. All the tension in his body has shifted and for a moment, you think he’s going to spring toward her and fall into her arms- but she gives an almost imperceptible shake of her head and his face hardens. His arms tighten around his bonsai. You think you know, now, why it was the only plant in his room that had a pot. 

“Go,” she says and all the tension leaves him. His shoulders curve in and he drags himself past the director, out from the fence and toward Mr. Seo’s car. There’s something final about the way the gate rolls shut after him. If you hadn’t known better, you’d’ve sworn you heard him whine as it locked. 

The car ride down the mountain is...interesting to say the least. Hope insists that the seating arrangements inside the Buick be done to his specifications,( “You’ve gotta sit in the middle,” he tells you, pointing to the narrow center seat. “And Joonie and I will sit on either side of you to protect you in case we crash!” His tail is wagging a mile a minute behind him. You’re surprised it can move that much, given how short it is. Mr. Seo looks affronted at the unintentional jab at his driving and Namjoon just looks irritated. “I told you to stop calling me that.”) and he keeps throwing an arm across your middle everytime the car hits a bump. You’re going down the side of a mountain. There are a lot of bumps. He also keeps pressing his nose against the glass of his window, ears pricked up and trying to take in every tree that passes by. Namjoon, on the other hand, slouches back in his seat, his body curved around his plant and ever so slightly away from you. He still watches the world pass by, but he doesn’t acknowledge any of you or speak- which would be fine if anyone else would. Hope seems to be doing his best to appear stoic and alert every time you look at him and Mr. Seo seems comfortable with the quiet. So, you’re left to ride the two hours back to Seoul in silence. 

You almost cry with relief when your phone buzzes with an incoming text. You fish the device out of your pocket, thumb it to life and scan your notifications.

Unknown Sender [7:13 PM] where are you

You frown. Very few people had your number or any reason to text you. You’re about to chalk it up to a wrong number when the second text rolls in.

Unknown Sender [7:14 PM] it’s yoongi

Now that’s a surprise. When you’d hurriedly told the boys to text you, you’d been expecting Jimin to urge you to hurry or for Taehyung to ask for updates, not for their hyung to check your progress. A little smile pricks at your lips as you rush to reply

You [7:14 PM] We’re on the way back now!

Unknown Sender has been changed to Yoongi 

Yoongi [7:14 PM] can i call

You bite the inside of your lip, suddenly nervous. You know there’s no reason to be. After all, you tell yourself, what’s scary about a pair of roommates talking on the phone? You give him the go ahead and not three seconds after the delivered notification pops up, you get a call. You answer it on speaker.

“...Hello?”

“Did you just start driving?” Yoongi’s voice is thick with sleep, like he’s just woken up. It’s different than normal, his usual smooth drawl gone gravelly. 

“Y-yeah,” you reply, trying to ignore the way Hope is watching you out of the corner of his eyes and Namjoon’s ears have swiveled back toward you. “It’s gonna be awhile, still. Are Taehyung and Jimin-”

“They’re fine; They ate dinner earlier and they’ll be asleep til you get back.” He yawns and you picture him slouched on the couch, his hair mashed up on one side and his face puffy.  “Why do you sound nervous?”

“I’m not,” you counter. It’s a blatant lie and he knows it. He hums in doubt, but doesn’t press you.

“I’ll see you when you get back.”

“Do you want me to text you when we’re close?” It’s an innocuous question. There’s no reason you can see for him to pause as long as he does. For a second you think you’ve lost him- after all, mountains aren’t known for having great reception- but then you hear his breath fan over the receiver. 

“...Yeah.” 

You give a little nod you know he can’t see. “Okay.” He makes a little noise of assent and then his line clicks off. You hang up. Just as you do, another text comes through. 

Yoongi [7:16 PM] don’t let them scent you

“Who was that?” Hope asks in a small voice, pulling you away from your phone screen and Yoongi’s insistence that you remain scent-free. His tone is open, but you can tell by the way his knee is bouncing that he really, really wants to know. “Is that your husband?”

The bark of laughter that rips past your lips is out before you can think to stop it. Namjoon flinches and you wince at him in apology, your hand flying up to cover your mouth. Hope is frowning at you in confusion, his head cocked slightly to the side. You force yourself to calm and answer him. “No, Yoongi is not my husband.” You weren’t sure if you even really qualified as friends at this point. “He’s another hybrid that lives with me.”

Hope perks up in his seat. “You have another hybrid? Director Lim always told us that once we left the center, we’d be alone.” Your expression sours at the mention of the ill-tempered man and you shake your head. 

“No, there’s a lot of hybrids in Seoul,” you tell him, eager to dispel some of his misconceptions. “The three that live with me are named Yoongi, Jimin and Taehyung. Yoongi’s around your age, I think. Jimin and Taehyung are younger.” The doberman hybrid sits at rapt attention, soaking up every bit of information you give him and waiting eagerly for more. What else could you tell him about them? You remember the boys’ reaction that morning when you told them you’d be bringing dog hybrids home. “...They’re all felines,” you say, slowly, trying to gauge their reactions. 

“So that’s why you smell like that.” It’s the first words Namjoon’s spoken since you all piled into the car. You turn to him, but he’s not looking at you.

“What do you-?”

“You smell like other hybrids,” Hope says, covering for him. “But I’ve never smelled any that weren’t other dogs before.” He leans closer, his seatbelt stretching. You tense and lean away from him, but he’s not deterred. The tip of his nose brushes your neck and you have to fight off a shiver as he breathes you in. “They smell the same…” he starts, his breath fanning over your throat. “...but different? And one of them isn’t as strong as the others-” He presses closer, trying to catch the scent that’s eluding him. You make a noise of mild distress and lean further back, pressing into the solid wall that is Namjoon. 

“Hoseok, let it go .” Hoseok. That was his real name then. To your surprise, the dog hybrid pulls back as instructed, settling back into his seat without so much as a whine.

“I’ve never met a cat before,” he muses, turning his attention back to the window. “I hope they’re nice.”

You think about the chorus of hisses you’d been met with when you told the boys they’d have to share their space. You hope so too.

It’s 9:30 by the time Mr. Seo drops you off back in front of your building. He wishes you a good night and promises to call later in the week to discuss Black Mountain Canines. You’re not sure if there’s anyone to report him to or anything you can do, but you want to try. What you’d seen at the compound was wrong any way you looked at it. It made you sick to leave anyone there knowing how the director treated Namjoon and Hoseok. No one was useless. No one deserved to be locked away for years at a time for the sheer crime of existing. You’d make them see that. 

The moment you step out of the car, Hoseok is all wide smiles and exclamations. “Woah, you live here?” he asks, tilting his head back to take in all fifty-one floors of Haneul Tower in their sparkling, glass-paned glory.

“Yeah,” you tell him, handing him his bag. In his excitement to get out of the car, he’d abandoned it and Mr. Seo had nearly driven away with it. “But I just moved in a couple days ago, so it’s still pretty empty.”

Hoseok nods, scanning the windows like he’ll be able to pick out which one’s your’s. Behind you, Namjoon is lingering on the sidewalk.

He’s still got his bonsai clutched close to his chest and he’s hunched down around it like he’s trying to stop unseen hands from picking at it. His shoulders are bunched up by his ears, and he flinches with every car horn, every siren that comes to you on the wind. He’d grown up in the mountains and spent the better part of his life indoors. It only made sense that he’d be sensitive to the sounds of the city. 

“Is there a security system?” Hoseok asks, still enamored with the building. “How many entrances does your apartment have?”

“Just one second,” you tell him, forehead wrinkling as you take in Namjoon. You slide slowly toward the wolfdog, not wanting to startle him. “Namjoon?” He flinches when you call his name, head whipping toward you. “Do you wanna go inside? I know it’s new, but it’ll be quieter, I think.”

His mismatched eyes flick from you, to Hoseok, to the building and back to you before settling firmly on the concrete at his feet. He seems different than he had in the mountains. He’s smaller, quieter, less sure of himself. Was it because this is all new territory for him? Or had the snarling hybrid in the mountains just been a roll he was forced to play, the mythic monster to the director’s tyrant king. 

“You don’t have to go inside if you don’t want to,” you tell him, in a voice you hope is reassuring. “We can wait, if you need to.”

“I’ll wait with you, Joonie,” Hope chimes in, giving the larger hybrid the same soft smile he’d given his students earlier. 

He swallows, adam’s apple bobbing in his throat. “It...it’s fine,” he mutters, “We can go in, I just…” He takes a few hesitant steps forward and huddles closer to you. There’s still an inch between you, but it’s closer than you’d thought he’d come. 

You peer up at him. “Okay?” You ask. He gives a single nod and your little group moves through the double doors and into the lobby. 

It’s quieter at this time of night. You don’t recognize the woman standing behind the reception desk. There’s no one really around except one man, pacing the width of the lobby looking thoroughly put out. You can’t really see his face, but there’s something familiar about the slant of his body. He whirls around as the glass doors click shut and you catch sight of a fringe of gray hair, pointed ears, narrowed yellow eyes and an all too familiar pout. 

Yoongi. 

“Fuck.” You’d completely forgotten to text him. Judging by the look on his face as he stalks toward you, he wasn’t happy about it. To his credit, Hoseok does his best to guard you, sliding in front of you and pushing you behind him. You can’t see Yoongi’s ears beneath the hat he’s wearing but if his curled lip and narrowed eyes are any indicator, they’re pinned straight back. 

“Move.” He snarls at the doberman hybrid. Hoseok is taller than he is, but the closer Yoongi gets to him, the smaller he seems to shrink. There’s fire in the bobcat hybrid’s eyes. Hope whimpers and slinks out of his way, ears low. 

You wince. “Heeeeey, Yoongi. I’m sorry I forg-“ before you can even finish the sentence, he tugs you toward him by the shoulders. His face roves your neck, sniffing in earnest as he tries to pick up the scent of the other hybrids on you. All is well until he reaches the right side of your throat and grazes over the exact spot Hoseok had nosed earlier. He pulls away slowly, his shoulders tight. His head turns slowly to the doberman hybrid, mechanical. 

“You.” He hisses at the other hybrid with so much virulence it makes your blood run cold. He takes one step toward him, teeth bared in a snarl, but Namjoon slides in front of him bumping him back. A growl bubbles in the bobcat hybrid’s chest and the wolfdog matches it, both their ears pinned flat against their skulls. 

“Hey-” If either of them hear you, they don’t react. They’re too focused on having a staring contest. “Hey!” You push between them, a hand on either of their chests. Namjoon snarls as you touch him and Yoongi looks ready to skin him alive for that alone. He pushes against your hand, trying to get closer to the taller hybrid. You ball your hand up in the fabric of his shirt. “Stop it!” The receptionist already has the lobby phone in her hand. She’s whispering earnestly into it and you’re sure security will be on the way any second. You exhale and squeeze your eyes shut. “Everybody, elevator.” 

Yoongi hurls an accusatory finger in Hoseok’s direction. “These fucking-”

“Yoongi, please,” you plead. That gets him to stop. His arm falls to his side and he glowers down at you for a few seconds before stalking over to the elevators and slamming the up button. “I’m sorry,” you murmur to Hoseok and Namjoon. The smaller of the two hybrids is still hunched in on himself and the taller has Yoongi fixed in his mismatched gaze, his lips curled in anger. 

This was not the way you wanted this to go. You’d wanted them to have time to settle before you discussed next steps and gave them the same talk you’d given the felines, but it didn’t look like that was in the cards. You don’t know what’s gotten into Yoongi. You’d thought the bobcat hybrid was calm, cool and collected, completely unflappable in the face of anything. Apparently not. He seemed upset that some of Hoseok’s scent had gotten on you, but there’d been no way to help that. You’d been packed in a car with him and Namjoon for two hours. It was inevitable, wasn’t it?

“It’s not okay,” you tell them, wanting them to know you didn’t condone the way Yoongi had acted. “I don’t...I don’t know why he’s acting like this; he doesn’t normally. Do you wanna go up separately?”

It’s Hoseok who answers. “No, we’ll go up together,” he assures you with a small nod. “If...maybe if we get used to each other, it’ll be okay?” 

You’re not optimistic, but you give him a pained smile you hope is reassuring. “Yeah, maybe?” You cast a look back over your shoulders. Yoongi is waiting by the elevators, his arms crossed over his chest and his tail flicking in irritation. The elevator dings and the doors slide open. Well, there was no avoiding it. “Come on,” you tell them. “Just...keep to the other side, for now. I’ll stand between you and him.” 

The four of you pile into the elevator, all tucked into your own corners. It’s strange, you think. It’s never seemed small until now. Hoseok keeps casting worried looks over at you, Namjoon keeps subtly shifting closer and Yoongi is still glowering at the both of them, angry for a reason you can’t quantify. 

“If it helps,” Hoseok starts softly, his voice an intrusion in the awkward silence. “I really didn’t mean to, honestly-”

“Don’t apologize.” Namjoon counters. “If it bothers him that much, he can speak up” 

You don’t know what they’re talking about. It’s too late that you realize the canines aren’t addressing you. Suddenly, Yoongi’s fingers are hooked through one of your belt loops. He yanks you backwards and you stumble, falling against the length of his body. “My bad,” You shoot out, before the hybrid can hiss at you. “I just lost my bala-” The words die on your tongue as Yoongi fixes his mouth to the soft skin of your throat. The elevator goes quiet.

The canine hybrids avert their eyes almost instantaneously, instinct telling them they’re witnessing something they shouldn’t be. Yoongi keeps them fixed firmly in his sights, a dark growl bubbling in his throat. 

Your fingers flex uselessly at your sides, hands clenching unclenching as the hybrid works over the sensitive skin of your neck with his teeth and tongue. ‘Don’t make a noise,’ you plead with yourself. ‘This isn’t what it feels like. Don’t make a noise, don’t make a noise, don’t make a noise-’ Yoongi’s incisors graze over a vein and a little whimper slips past your lips before you can stop it. The grip he has on your hips becomes bruising. You feel your legs turning to jelly beneath you. Any more of what he was doing, and they’d have to mop you up off the elevator floor. You force your throat to swallow. “Y-Yoongi, I think that’s enough-” You don’t know if he hears you over the noise he’s making, so you lace your fingers through his and untangle them from your hips. He releases you with a wet pop and you slap a hand over the skin he’d marked. Heat floods your face and a smirk spreads across Yoongi’s, his teeth flashing at the canines. He leans in again to rub his nose against the mark he’d made- but a hand on his chest stops him. 

“Can you stop?” You ask in a small voice. Honestly, you’re embarrassed. Regardless of what the articles said about mark-making being platonic, it doesn’t feel friendly. It feels possessive and mean and you don’t like it. “I’m sorry I didn’t text you like you asked, but what is with you today?” Yoongi’s expression changes from smug satisfaction to confusion and then surprise, like he hadn’t expected you to protest. “I know what I said about you being ready but…” You rub a hand over the mark, wiping away saliva and your sweat. The bobcat hybrid visibly deflates. The elevator chimes for the fiftieth floor and the doors roll open slowly. You rush out before any of them can and start punching the code in your door with shaky fingers. You don’t know what to say. You’re tired and stressed and you don’t know what’s going on. Was this about the apartment? You knew the felines wouldn’t be happy about sharing their space, but why had Yoongi gone this far?

“Y/N…” He trails after you, his ears drooping. You shake your head, You can’t talk to him right now. 

“In the morning,” you tell him as the door swings open. “We’ll talk about it in the morning.” You can’t deal with everything that’s happened today, and Yoongi flipping out and getting the canines settled. You weren’t that good at juggling. 

By the grace of all that’s merciful, Taehyung and Jimin are still asleep when you walk in. You’d need to have an extended meet and greet tomorrow, you decide. Maybe do some icebreakers or team building exercises. If they reacted anything like their hyung did, you were in for one hell of an adjustment period. 

Hoseok and Namjoon trail you into the penthouse warily, sniffing the air. You want to give them time to explore and get their bearings, they deserve that, but with the way Yoongi still seems agitated when they venture anywhere but exactly in your steps, that’ll need to be saved until tomorrow morning too. You give them the most spartan tour you can muster up and show them each to a guest room, promising to order them furniture and get them the things they need tomorrow. 

By the time you collapse into your own bed, it’s damn near 11. You groan and drag a pillow over your face as you ask the universe for the thousandth time why it had decided to continuously kick your ass. Having three hybrids had been hard enough. Having five of all different species was likely to prove impossible and having seven was going to be a sisyphean task you’d had no training for. You groan and kick your feet in the air, allowing yourself the brief respite of a temper tantrum before crawling under your covers and flicking the lamp off. Maybe in your dreams there’d be no stress and no snarling hybrids with behavior you couldn’t explain.

[erule]

Oceans | t.h.

Pairing: Tom Holland x Fem!Reader

Summary: Tom’s in Monaco, drunk and he calls the reader because he misses her.  

Warnings: drunk!Tom, language, some suggestiveness (like one line), mention of cheating, fluff, maybe a bit of angst if you squeeze

Word count: 670ish

A/N: Hello hello! I’m back?? Anyway this is just something I wrote tonight very quickly. Another trope that I had to write with Tom lmao, enjoy!

If you wanna be tagged in my Tom Holland/Peter Parker fics, just let me know in my ask box! You can also find me on AO3 and Wattpad. Feedback is always appreciated by a writer!

Taglist Tom/Peter stories: @imawhoreforu​

Main Masterlist

Tom Holland Masterlist

Peter Parker Masterlist

[credit to whoever made the gif!]

“Darling?”

“Why are you calling me, Tom?” You ask, confused. It’s 3 AM and Tom’s supposed to be in Monaco with his friends. You hear some music in the distance, through the phone. “Are you at a party?”

“No, but my neighbor is having one, apparently,” he says, then you hear him punching the wall, yelling to the neighbor to low the volume in the room. “Sorry. What were you saying, darling?”

“Nothing, you called me”.

“Oh, yes!”

“Tom, are you drunk or something? Because this is weird,” you say, furrowing your brows.

“Maybe, but it’s not the point! The point is that… I miss you,” he blurts out. You curl your lips.

“Oh, is that so?”

“Yeah. Very much,” he says, looking at his shoes, while he’s sitting on the edge of the bed. “I want you to be here with me. Monaco’s not so entertaining with you”.

You grin, sitting on the floor of the bathroom, with your back against the door of the shower.

“My boyfriend didn’t let me come with you, you know it very well”.

“I fucking hate him,” Tom says, clenching his jaw. “You should break up with him”.

“Yeah, I totally should. Especially because he can be an ass sometimes,” you say, annoyed.

“I can’t stand him. You’re such a light, while he’s… I don’t know. He’s not,” he says, struggling to find the words in his blurry mind. You chuckle. “I love the way you laugh. Oh, if he only knew the way you laugh with me, maybe he’d stop being such a braggart,” he continues. “If he only knew how to please you in bed. If he only knew how many oceans there are between us every time I leave,” he says.

You wet your lips, still sitting on the floor, while Tom sighs. He suddenly notices that everything has become quiet around him. He can just hear Tuwaine and Harrison snoring in the communicating room.

“You’re even more poetic when you’re drunk, Tom,” you joke. You heart is still warm for the words he just said.

“I’m serious, darling, there’s nothing I want more than hanging out with you here,” he says. You look at the door of the bathroom, wondering what he’s looking at right now. Why he’s not looking at you.

“Why didn’t you want me to come with you, Tom?”

“Because you’ve got a boyfriend, Y/N,” he answers, like it’s obvious, but there’s also an inch of sadness in his voice. A sense of impotence.

“No, I don’t,” you say and Tom can hear distinctly the bathroom’s door open. You look at him, a soft smile on your face. His hair is messy and he seems very tired.

“Darling?”

“How many drinks did you three have?” You ask, whispering, while hanging up the phone.

He gets up from the bed and comes towards you, still incredulous. You wrap your arms around his neck before pecking his lips.

“I don’t…”

“You’re too drunk to remember that we have been dating for a whole year, baby. I broke up with my ex boyfriend a long time ago. You didn’t want me to come here because you were scared of the paparazzi’s pictures, am I right?” You ask and he nods. “We’re not going public if you don’t want to, Tom”.

“But I invited you at the end, didn’t I?”

“Yeah, but I left you some space. I didn’t want to push you. It’s your decision, you’re movie star after all,” you say it as a joke, but he’s very aware of how much you’re proud of him.

“You’re not pushing me, darling. I think that the time has come. I wanna hang out with you more often, even in public. Tomorrow’s we’re gonna post a picture of us on Instagram, alright? We’re gonna do this according to our terms,” he says and you smile at him, looking into his sparkling eyes. “There’s not a universe in which I don’t want you, Y/N”.

“I love you, Tom”.

“I love you too, darling”.