#boy does it make it hard to explain anything about him briefly

[fairestwriting]

Hey, hello, would it be possible to request the first years with a crush or s/o who's constantly very warm so they can basically act as a human heating pad but despite this they're very touch starved and basically melt into hugs and cuddles, gender neutral pronouns would be great, thank you very much and merry (probably late) Christmas if you do this and same to you even if you don't!

another oldie (Visibly. im so sorry anon. i hope an awesome holiday season) i just had to take...... in the name of all my fellow human space heaters

Ace Trappola

One day, his hands got cold, and you were nearby, neck fully exposed, and Ace did what he would obviously do in this situation. Except it turned out he was the one shocked by how warm you are, even though he did make you jump a bit.

He's a fan of the physical affection. He doesn't fluster easily and likes showing you off all smug, linking your arms together or putting his over your shoulder while you're with your friends. The warmth is a great bonus.

When you cuddle up in a hot day, he whines about how you're gonna cook him alive and will jokingly "attempt" to push you off while giggling, then turning on the AC of his room or dragging you both somewhere cooler.

Deuce Spade

The first time you hug, Deuce gets spooked because he thinks you have a fever. He fusses over you for a few good minutes before you can explain anything. Then gets embarrassed of his reaction.

Being Deuce, he'll randomly revisit this worry, but mostly he just eases into it rather easily. He's a little shy, whether you're in public or not, but you can tell he feels comfortable with the way he leans into you.

Feels so bad if you're holding hands and his gets sweaty. Apologizes a billion times while wiping it clean on his shirt. Nevermind that it'd happen even if you weren't so warm, he just doesn't want you to ever feel awkward when touching him.

Jack Howl

Also really warm because of his wolf beastman genes, also surprisingly touchy. It's hard to tell which one of you is warmer, actually? Which in the end just means you end up comfortably cuddled up very oftwn.

...whenever you're away from others, of course. It's not that Jack hates the thought of PDA, but he "prefers to take it slow" (Read: Makes him blush way too easy)

Commiserates in the summer and celebrates in the winter if you're not very tolerant to heat like him. Sometimes he talks about his family's trips to the north with a voice softer than usual, hinting just a little bit that he'd really love it if you came along one day.

Epel Felmier

He's also on the warmer side temperature wise, but he's small, so he ends up getting cold surprisingly easily.

At first he's a bit spooked with the touchyness, really just because it's his first relationship, but it grows on him. A lot.

Epel thinks him getting cold easy-ish is embarrassing, so he really feels like he won the lottery here. Now he gets to put his arm around your waist to stay warm and look cool with you by his side, boy's on top of the world.

Sebek Zigvolt

Runs very cold. The first time your hand is anywhere on him he jumps a bit. The situation's like the inverse of someone who gets startled by their friend's cold hands pressed to their neck.

He briefly questions if you're really human, stammering something about how only beastmen are so warm. He's too distracted by how nice your warmth feels to make much sense.

He's so easily flustered every time you get cuddly, but if he even tries to push you off (Which he mostly just does if you're in public) it comes out all feeble. Even if he's trying to keep up with etiquette and you two actually have to step away from each other, it's all over his face that he misses the coziness.

if you wanna support my work, you can buy me a ko-fi or commission me!

[whumpcloud]

The Body (and Him) - Art Auction

thank you to @honeycollectswhump who helped me develop these guys couldn't have done it without you <3

content: heavy dehumanisation (whumpee treated as literal object), heavy dissociation, techinically pet whump (whumpee is a pet but not treated as such/doesn't really use the tropes), heavily conditioned whumpee, rescue & recovery, mentions of: gore, restraints, knives, bruising

Micah is going to vomit.

He has a reputation, he knows, so he gets invited to these sorts of private events. People he can't stand auctioning off art they don't appreciate. But he goes anyway, because he's a collector at heart, and he likes having them.

This is not a painting or a poster or a sculpture or any sort of normal art. This is a person who is so utterly lifeless that Micah wouldn't blame anyone for thinking that he was a corpse.

He stares. The boy stares back, but Micah can tell there's no conscious awareness of doing so. That's something he knows more intimately than a person should. Of the dozens of Pets who have passed through his doors, how many times has he seen that look in their eyes? Micah moves to the left and the boy's eyes don't follow.

Fuck, he's been noticed staring. Very quickly, he shoves the horror into the pit of his stomach and flashes a smile at the seller.

"I'm a little unsure what exactly the art here is," Micah says, as casually as he can manage with bile burning the back of his throat. "Would you mind explaining?"

"It's him," the man replies, gesturing to the boy. The boy is entirely still - does he even know what's going on? The lack of look in his eyes suggests not. "Well, he's more of a medium, than anything. It's a little hard to explain. Would you like to take a look through the album?"

The album? Micah takes a shaky step forward to leaf through the book sitting on the lectern in front of the exhibit.

If he could feel any more queasy, he would. Photograph upon photograph upon photograph of this boy in different positions, with different injuries. The only consistent thing is his blank-eyed stare. Micah can feel it radiating from the pages. A shudder runs down his spine. A photograph of the boy suspended upside down by ropes, patterns carved into his skin. A photograph of the boy pinned to a wall like a butterfly in moody lighting, nails through his hands and feet.

Micah shuts the book a little harder than intended.

"Is he up for auction?" Micah asks, trying to hide how strangled his voice is.

"Yes, he is," the man smiles, obviously excited at Micah's interest. "I've had him for a few years now, I'm moving on to other projects."

Other projects?! Micah bites his tongue until it bleeds. "What would you say are his most notable features?"

"I'm so glad you asked," the man says. There's a predatory glint in his eye that doesn't make it any easier for Micah to keep smiling. "As I'm sure you've noticed, he's very still. He doesn't flinch or scream, and he's barely any maintenance. Just feed him once a day, keep him hydrated, and wash him so that he doesn't get any infections. He's just a body, really."

Just a body. That's a person, you freak.

Micah is not letting him go to auction.

"How much? Right now."

Shaking someone's hand has never felt so sickening. Micah wants to scrub the feeling away until his skin is raw and bloody.

When Micah picks the boy up, he goes entirely limp in Micah's arms. Micah murmurs something about being safe now, but he has a feeling it goes in one ear and out the other.

—

The body is being carried. Out of the car and into the air. Air on its skin. That doesn't happen very much. He wonders, ever so briefly, if this new owner will put him outside. But then it passes and he stops paying attention to those sorts of things.

"Easy now," a voice says, and he isn't really sure what that means. "I'm laying you down, okay?"

The body is placed on a bed, and it immediately goes limp. Unfocused eyes fix on a point on the ceiling.

"...can you look at me, please?"

Its eyes dart over. Still unfocused. But he can make out a masculine figure, pale skin, red hair in a ponytail, brown eyes. Nice eyes. Gentle eyes. Oh, the body would appreciate being used gently. This owner might have really sharp knives so that the skin cuts cleanly, or big hands to leave more bruises faster, or soft ropes to hang him up. Of course, he has no say in what happens to the body. No say in anything. But the body has experienced a lot of things that have made it need rest, so if it was treated gently, that would be nice.

"I'm Micah." Master. "Are you tired? Nod for yes."

He doesn't understand the question. There's a quiet sigh.

"Does the body need rest?"

Oh, that makes sense. The body nods, though he doesn't understand why he's being asked. The body will sleep if told to sleep. But he doesn't understand a lot of things. He isn't made to understand.

"Then rest, okay? Go to sleep."

The body obediently closes its eyes and he falls into a dreamless sleep.

He wakes. Micah is still there. Just sitting by the bed. The body stares at the ceiling again.

"Oh, you're awake. I'm going to ask you to do some things now, okay?"

Okay.

"...sit up, please."

That's very non-specific. Normally the body would just be positioned however a person liked. But the body is certainly capable of moving around without assistance. So it sits up on the bed, cross-legged with his hands in its lap. Default position.

Micah eyes him. The body just stares ahead. It hasn't been told to look anywhere. The wall in front of him has an oil painting of a flower. In his peripheral vision, he can see more paintings, and drawings, and statues, and other things like him. He must be another new decoration.

"...raise your left arm, straight up."

The body obeys.

"Okay, put it back down."

The body obeys and its hand returns to its lap.

Micah wants to scream. He moves so mechanically. Does he even think? Micah can't detect any thought behind his gaze.

No, that's a stupid thought. Of course he thinks. Micah should know better than to contemplate otherwise. There's a fully-formed, complex person sitting there. He just needs to find a way of communicating.

"Do you speak?" Micah tries. He has a suspicion of what the answer might be. "You don't have to say anything. Just nod if you're physically capable of speech."

He does the closest thing he can to thinking, for a moment. There definitely are vocal cords in the body's throat, so he supposes he could use them. He doesn't see a reason to. Bodies don't have a need for speech. No person has ever asked him to speak. So even though there are vocal cords, the body might not be able to form any words or sound. But he doesn't know. So the body nods. Physically capable sounds right.

"Okay," Micah says, relief in his tone. "Good. Okay. Do you have a name? Could you speak to tell me it?"

What would a body have a name for?

"Right. Of course." Micah bites his nails. He needs something to call this boy. Anything at all. "I'm… I'm going to call you Demitri, okay? So when I say Demitri, you answer to it, yeah? Nod for yes."

It's just Micah's middle name, desperately grasped in a moment of horrified panic. But it's a name. If Demitri changes it later, then he's free to. Micah's had plenty of Pets change their names more than once.

The body nods, slowly, deliberately. Demitri. That's a name you would give to a person. This owner is strange. But maybe he likes to nickname his pieces. It isn't Demitri's place to question anything, even if he was capable of doing so.

"Okay. Does the body need to eat?"

The body just eats. People must have signals that let them know if they need to do that, and Micah just doesn't realise that the body doesn't feel things like hunger or thirst.

"...fine. Scheduled mealtimes, then. But I'll go make you something now, okay?"

The moment Micah leaves, Demitri settles into the familiar emptiness of being alone. But at least the body is on a bed. A bed! The body never got to be on a bed in Master's house. Maybe this is where the body will get to lie every time it isn't being used.

That would be so… nice.

"Demitri, I'm back," Micah says, some unknown amount of time later. Time isn't really a concept Demitri grasps. "I've brought you some soup. Can you eat it yourself?"

Micah places the bowl into the body's lap. Is it supposed to eat? The body tries to hold the spoon, and all it does is slip back into the soup. There was a time where it had the strength to do that, Demitri is sure. Maybe a very long time ago, back at the start with Master.

Micah takes a deep breath, and bites his lip. "Okay. I'll feed it to you."

That requires much less effort for the body. It opens its mouth.

Micah is quiet, half-forgetting to try to keep talking like he intended. He has a bad habit of going silent when he's thinking. It isn't that he minds this - he never could, and Demitri certainly isn't the first one to need this sort of help, anyway - but there's something different about this. He's had rescues who struggle to do anything for themselves. He's had rescues who are detached from their own bodies. He's had rescues used as all manner of objects. Not all of them at once.

He's the one people go to with difficult cases. He coaxes out the ones that hide and convinces the ones who only follow orders to do something for themselves and reassures the ones that think everything they do deserves a punishment that it's all going to be okay.

Who else is going to do this? The photo album lies abandoned in the car. Pages upon pages of what Micah can only describe as horror.

And Demitri does… nothing. Gives him nothing to work with.

For the first time in the seven years he's been doing this, Micah Ullmann feels lost.

He continues to gently spoon-feed Demitri anyway.

[snackara]

Earendel

And here he is, the little lad himself.

Like with Asha, I took a different spin then what most people have been doing with Starboy. Some of the early concepts took inspiration from Peter Pan, so I decided to go all in with this idea and make him a young boy instead of an older teenager. Which was also an idea mentioned in the Art of Wish.

He has a similar personality to what was shown in the movie, being the definition of chaotic neutral while also being very sweet and naive.

I wanted him to really be the emotional glue of the trio, letting Asha and Miguel open up to him about their feelings. He also has his own character arc, learning what it means to be human. That they can be very malicious and cruel, but also compassionate and empathetic. This was something mentioned briefly in the Art of Wish book I wanted to incorporate, shown below.

His appearance is very similar to the one above, especially in terms of clothing. He has a typical prince getup that’s black, and a long cape made of stardust. Also the little hood with the antlers. He appears to be around 12 years old, being a much younger star. Minus the clothes, his appearance is also similar to the art below.

(via Saira Vargas)

He doesn’t have an important backstory in this rewrite (at least at the time I’m writing this) so this section will instead explain the star’s and their magic.

Stars exist in a place known as the Celestial Realm. It is sort of hard to explain exactly what it is. The Celestial Realm is technically another dimension, though it can be seen through the night sky via magic, and can even be accessed by very powerful magic.

Older stars have the power to go from earth to the Celestial Realm through conjuring a portal fairly easily due to how powerful their magic can be. Though they mostly choose not to. More on that in a minute.

Very few humans have the ability to go from one realm to the other. Only those who have studied magic their entire lives are able to do so.

However, most people don’t try, thinking the Celestial Realm is just a myth. Meanwhile, the stars believe the humans are selfish and hollow beings because of their lack of natural magic and some bad history, so they don’t bother with them.

So, what can stars actually do? Well, nearly anything, as long as it does not bring harm to others. They can transform things, give inanimate objects life, let things talk, create physical things from stardust. The stardust can also be used to just create pretty visuals. The only things they cannot do are make people fall in love, or again bring harm to anyone in any way.

Phew, alright. That was quite a bit of rambling to get through. Hopefully I explained everything well, but feel free to ask for clarifications if needed.

Thanks for reading! Stay tuned for more.

[mywingsareonwheels]

1974.

Morse is interviewing witnesses to a murder at one of the colleges, and one of them is strikingly familiar. He's a man in his early twenties, a recent medical graduate back visiting friends before heading off to move into a totally different career. He has a posh accent, a friendly smile, warm brown eyes.

Oh he's truly, desperately familiar, and Morse isn't looking too hard into his own motives when he lets the younger man talk him into a drink out, and then a one-night stand, and then something rather more like a friendship played out over Scotch and crosswords and literary quotations.

[More behind the cut....]

He does mention, briefly, that his new friend reminded him of someone else on first meeting. And somehow that turns into a discussion of ancestry, and the young man discusses with some glee the skeleton in his family cupboard: the fact that his paternal grandmother when barely eighteen had a dalliance with a working-class ruffian of the same age from Mile End, of all places. That she'd got pregnant, but her parents wouldn't let her tell the lad, but instead got her engaged to a somewhat stuffy friend of theirs called Richardson.

"Dad hates to talk about it," says Morse's friend, "he's rather a stuffed shirt, especially for a surgeon. But Granny used to love telling me stories. She did come to love my Granddad, I think, but she missed that boy from Mile End all her life." He chuckles, but a little shakily, because he has yet to learn the effortless-seeming confidence he'll spread before him one day. "I'd give anything to meet him."

Morse swallows, heart suddenly in his mouth. And something in his face makes the young man carry on, more intensely.

"Granny told me that she named Dad after him, though he doesn't know. So that's what I have: Frederick, from Mile End. Fathered a child around 1930 when he was just a lad and doesn't even know he did." He laughs, wryly. "Not much to go on, is it."

"Douglas," says Morse, and his voice is shaking but there's a smile in his eyes. "I... I'll need to look into this, but I think. I mean. I think I can help."

The postcard is of York Minster, which is only a half hour drive from where three exiles from Oxford have settled. On the back it reads just:

"Sir,

Un bel di, please could we talk? There's someone I think you should meet. Bring 2 rounds ham and tomato sandwiches. --"

At the day and time thus ordered, Fred Thursday finds Morse standing admiring the rose window, and follows him out to a bench in the Minster gardens. He's torn between confusion and shame, though above all trying to hide how overjoyed he is to see the rusty curls and those haughty, sea-green eyes again. When Morse explains, and introduces the young trainee pilot with a face Fred remembers from his mirror as a long-lost grandson... well, it's good he's already sitting down, is all.

The years past, and they are gentler than they might have been.

Fred lives to see his grandson a captain, to meet his great-granddaughter. To introduce his grandson to his uncle and step-grandmother and eventually even his aunt. To become friends with Morse again, even if quietly, and for the most part only by letter. To relish that Douglas and Morse, despite occasionally enraging each other beyond reason, seem to be friends for life. (He suspects that they might once have been more than that; if they aren't going to tell him though, he's not going to point it out.) Something healed in him that day in York, and it never breaks again.

When Captain Douglas Richardson puts down the bottle, in an attempt to salvage something of his career and his relationship with his daughter, perhaps it's partly because he's still grieving for his grandfather, dead some ten years now, but most of all because he's still grieving for his friend and one-time lover, and doesn't want to die so young himself.

When First Officer Douglas Richardson meets his new captain at MJN's portacabin in Fitton, he's a little strikingly familiar too. He's shorter, and more pompous, and vastly less good at word games, but there are rusty curls and haughty sea-green eyes.

He's no relation of Morse's at all though, it turns out. This is, eventually, rather a relief.

[leonscape]

lions are very territorial pt.2

“do you wonder what it would be like if you met your real parents?” irene asked. the couple lay next to each other, watching the day pass by.

“sometimes. but i wouldn’t even know where to start,” leon answered. he gently stoked her hair and she snuggled closer.

“maybe one day you’ll find them,” she said.

“what if they’re gone?”

“that’s too sad.” she frowned. “you need to have some hope.”

“it is an interesting thought. but i’ve never met my parents so i don’t know even what they look like.”

“i bet you look like your father,” she giggled.

leon laughed, “oh yeah? what makes you say that?”

“i don’t know, i just think it would be cute.” she smiled.

“and what about you? do you look like your mother?” he raised a brow.

“not really. maybe at a glance, but not really. she was really pretty. she had this shiny, straight hair. it was so stiff and smooth. mine is always frizzy and ugly,” she told him and leon patiently listened.

“i think you’re really pretty. your hair is like a magnificent lion’s mane,” leon teased.

“you’re one to talk, lion boy.”

the two laughed and giggled with each other. “so if you don’t look like your mother, then you must look like your father.”

“nobody knows who my father is. my mother never talked about it. all my memories are in rhodolite so he must be rhodolitian.”

“did you ever find out what was in the letter your childhood friend gave you?” leon asked. “i know you’ve been working on it for a while.”

“no, i still don’t understand anything. i think it’s best if i just have someone else read and translate it for me.”

“i think you should keep going,” he said. “you’ll get there. you need to have hope.”

“oh gosh, who told you that?” she exhaled a laugh.

“a really beautiful girl. she’s really smart too.” he pressed a kiss on her head.

irene continued to study hard, trying her best to translate her mother’s words. little by little, she decoded the message. it didn’t make much sense, but over time it became more intelligible.

“i knew you could do it,” leon said. irene presented him with the translated letter. “can i read it?”

the original letter looked spent. the page was folded and refolded and it was a bit discolored. the strokes of each character was neat and careful. the black pigment of the ink still stood out on the page.

the letter explained her mother’s circumstances, and at the end she finished it off with an apology. it wasn’t addressed to irene, or anyone irene recognized. however, it does briefly mention her.

“‘my daughter grows everyday, and my wish is to return home to present her to our home’,” leon read out loud. “interesting wording there. ‘her father was from benitoite, and i wished she could have grown there in the beautiful sea country. it reminds me of our home.’”

“so i guess that answers the question.” she shrugged.

“that’s amazing.” leon skimmed over the rest of the letter, none of which were making sense without the context. “should we try to find him?”

“she says she wanted me to grow up there. so why didn’t i? she moved here instead.”

“good point.”

“i have to tell my friend. he wouldn’t believe this!”

“may i go with you? i’d like to meet your friend.”

“i’d really like that.”

tag list (let me know if you’d like to be tagged or untagged): @violettduchess @nightghoul381

(i feel like i’m poking you guys pls tell me to stop if you don’t like it)

[7ban-sama]

jshk banner rankings? Least favorite to most?

I've been having an issue with my vision lately, so my wife made us play a little game where I looked at the banners (briefly) and then had her transcribe my reactions, to minimize screen usage. Below are the results.

(Due to the image limit, this is part 1/2.)

now, my earnest reactions. Starting from least favorite:

"get away from them."

"I don't like to see you dressed like this. but i'm glad you're in this world with me. if we have to be here at the ikemen juicebar."

(I actually didn't like this header very much at first, but my wife explained she has fond memories of playing with nutcrackers, and she likes that Tsukasa is eating nuts in this image. It keeps making me laugh. it's become more relevant.)

"funny."

"I like that aida-sensei likes mushrooms. and would draw tsukasa with mushrooms. the mushrooms themselves being so "hurt you, poisonous" is like interesting."

"he's cute. a mouse in my lunch."

"my little bean. you'll always be my little bean."

"he's tsukasa, so i care about him. but he does look funny. and these diaper eggs. don't uh help."

"he is focused. he use his whoooole fist. cute expression."

"small mouth."

"he's SOOO small in this image. I love the spooky apple pie but like, he's MICROSCOPIC, WHAT HAPPENED????? the apron is cute … falling offa him. messy (: I'll eat it…"

"double wife feature. what's goin on? tsukasa, cursed, fancy lad? nene-chan, courage test, why? so funny. what happens next?"

"elegant. classic. conveys 'its the boy'. can see why this was there for years. perfectly fine header. neutral ground, for me."

"expression is very sweet. I like that tsukasa loves christmas this much. I pity him. it feels like he needs these like, proxies, to fixate on romance. Just a cute picture."

"whatcha doin in there? he looks So young. I can never understand. he looks like, 10. purple socks??? I don't understand. seifuku???? shotacon garbage."

"I would fuck him like this... I hesitated, and he was about to be pretty high up there. BUT. but. like. compared to like tsukasa in his HAKAMA and KIMONO with a carrot in his mouth, these things aren't like on the same plane. I need to regain my senses. I can't let myself get lost. this image makes me very HORNY!! but literally in quality of image I'm like 'NO!!!! its not that good.' Stupid Mokke. I don't want that, the bunnies are better. Almost lost myself." [pause.] "I see it and I'm like 'would fuck you so hard…' then I have to be like —BUT THIS ISN'T ANYTHING!!"

"just beautiful. just a beautiful drawing of tsukasa. i always like the cheek smoosh. shoe kick off eheehehee♥"

"I love the teddy bear, what it ah, symbolizes almost. nice to see it still with him."

(these both are on the same tier.) "he's having fun. keep having fun, okay?" / "my innocent brother." [pause] "i don't have to kill him."

"an artist…………….. a visionary…. bright eyes and a squeaking voice (: i hope you can draw with nene-chan some day….. so small."

"he is very veryveryveryveryveryvery cute. please be my girlfriend…."

"I do love the carousel. I love when we're carousel boys. Circus. purple socks cute. i feel like i'm being invited behind stage, but we're going to do something bad. but its going to be my fault (that it is bad)"

"he's literally so interesting. the gloves are cool. I feel like I've been brainwashed into being his fan. much to be said about the Angel's Trumpet being chosen for this; it really elevates the AU that he COULD be associated with this imagery... suddenly you're folding in like… idols, and like, delirium? singing voice… poisoning you… ? I also have to be real, I like idols a lot. I like normal otaku idol stuff. so an idol AU tsukasa is a big deal to me."

"its just so like. 'oh, tsukasa…' it's both beautiful that he loves love so much, but i almost feel like, i guess jealous, deep down, that he is doing this. but that's almost like good for me, to be forced to feel such things."

(pt 2 Nene-chan on the same rank.) "Makes me wanna cry. I'm sorry."

"good composition, nice color, good 'cursed child' vibes. the other people are a good contrast for how its a little creepy. a ghost, no one can see him. tsukasa knows such simple pleasures, its very cute."

"what's fun about this is how eccentric Tsukasa is; compared to throwing little paper petals (still cute of course, but… this is charming.) Because it's sakuras, and i just kinda associate tsukasa with a kind of femininity, and they feel like they are blossoming from him, its all fun. light, pallid colors… mm."

"this is really one of those. 'i'm in love with you.' images. I really like the colors on the shattered glass (sunset.) it evokes tsukasa's omnipotence. aouhh God. breaking through peering into the universe. also just like a perfect expression. you love to see those eyes peaking out."

"he pisses me off. but my wife loves carrots. so i love that my wife loves carrots. so tsukasa eating carrots is like 'okay, you got me.' the bunnies are cute. [said resentfully] it is nice to think about him sprawled out like this. i like how much you can see underneath the collar. Hakama looks nice." [pause] "there". [...] "grrrr"

"it forces me to think about penis. it's kinda like a personal attack. just as flirty as shoe kicky boy, but also, think about penis. He is just like this. He doesn't choose to be seductive, he just is, and its like, infuriating. eyes closed ranks slightly higher."

"God. I just love this scene so much, so getting to see it (in color) is amazing. it feels like a good mirror image to, the Amane holding the lunar rock looking out a window. these pictures kiss in my mind. 'wow, its really twins.'"

[doyelikehaggis]

Rowing the Rarepair Rowboat: St. Hudson | Finn Hudson x Jesse St. James (Glee)

Requested by @spicy-cannoli

Jesse leans in the doorway, arms folded as he looks at Finn with a halved gaze and something complimentary to his smile. It makes Finn squirm and look away immediately, feeling hot beneath his skin. This is stupid.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" he asks.

God, this was such a stupid idea. He could've gone to literally anyone else. Faced up to the shame of his semi-honourable discharge and told his mom why he was back in Lima. Or even Mr Schue, he would never judge him. That's part of the problem. Maybe he should've just gone to New York. Why did it have to be Jesse he called up for a place to spend the night?

Jesse merely shrugs, which is a little bit irritating as it's not exactly an answer and leaves Finn wondering what it could be. Is there something on his face? He did just wake up a few minutes ago, maybe his hair is a mess or something.

It's way too early in the morning for this; his eyes briefly move over Jesse and note that he's not dressed yet so he probably didn't sleep in too much. He strikes him as the kind of person who would be together enough to be awake and dressed by ten in the morning.

"I was just thinking that if I had seen you even once like this back in high school, I would probably have tried to make a move on you," Jesse casually says. "Bedhead's a good look on you."

He then pushes away from the frame and asks, "So, breakfast? I assume since you came to me of all people last night for somewhere to sleep that you don't want to go into town, so I'm happy to cook."

Finn blinks, still trying to process the first thing he said. "Uh... yeah. Sure. Is that okay?"

"Only if you don't mind that the only milk I have in is lactose-free."

"That's... fine," Finn says, uncertain of what exactly that means but sure enough that it's not a problem.

He finally goes to climb out of the bed -- he really doesn't want to, the sheets are unlike anything he's slept in before -- then immediately has to sit back down as his leg twinges.

Grasping it tightly, he hisses a curse through gritted teeth. Breathing deeply, he tries to focus on literally anything but the throbbing in his thigh. It's not exactly easy.

"Ouch," Jesse says, startling him as he had closed his eyes against the pain and momentarily forgotten he was there. Now he's staring at the scar with genuine concern. "I'm guessing that's the reason you're back here then."

Finn swallows hard, trying to push down both the strain of ignoring the pain and the humiliation of having to explain what happened. Maybe he just won't. No one has to know the truth.

"Yeah," Finn simply says, voice sounding like sandpaper. He clears his throat and plasters on a fake smile. "So, uh... you mentioned something about breakfast? Great. I'm starving."

Jesse lingers a moment longer, eyes still flitting between his face and his thigh like he wants to ask. Finn is silently praying that he won't.

"Well, we can't have that, now can we?" Jesse returns his smile as Finn exhales in relief. "Come on, soldier boy. I've got some painkillers in the bathroom."

Finn begins to protest, "I don't need them, I'm fine. Really."

"We both know you're not an actor so let's not pretend I actually buy that. But I'm not going to shove them down your throat, so if you don't want them," Jesse shrugs again, "then you don't have to take them. I'm making French toast."

He leaves Finn to get ready. When he finally goes downstairs and finds his way to the kitchen, Jesse's got his back to him, cooking away and singing along to the song on the radio. On the table are a glass of water and a strip of painkillers.

Taking a seat, Finn stares at them silently. He debates with himself for a good minute; does it make him weak if he takes them? It's already pathetic enough how he got injured in the first place, to then need to take medication because he can't handle the pain?

His thigh twinges again like someone's just stuck three fingers deep in the wound and twisted the muscles hard. When he's able to unclench his hand again, he grabs the glass and swallows down two of the pills.

Jesse glances at him over his shoulder and gives him a slight smile and a nod before turning back to the frying pan. "So, quick question: was there a reason the New Directions were so obsessed with Journey?"

[alma-screenies]

my japanese sucks so hard. i had been thinking that raimu was an alien for 3 years. and no one corrected me

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he's thinking about how he's catboy jesus. or doesn't belong anywhere or something like that. maybe he's thinking about buying groceries. who knows

what an absolutely not worrying lad!

i don't remember the explanation but it was something like "we needed VIOLENCE MAIMING AND MURDERING to know how to deal with a deadly cat made out of evil and goo. slime if you will."

this ended up fitting more than i thought it would

in what kind of world do we live in where we let our catboys be sad...

it does not excuse the fact that they have the exact same hairstyle but whatevs

he's still going to switch into catboy angst mode the second you look away from him, but it was still a nice moment, right?

jinpei can't do anything but fail successfully when it comes to that guy, huh...

mera and kyubi could've become the y gakuen certified yaoi guys but kyubi ended up sucking as a character so alas.

i guess angrily looking at the sky is a hobby of his

imagine eating pizza with an italian person and going "yo this italian food is banging! you gotta try it!"

it's okay, raimu. i was like that when i was 13 too

"you're such a fuCKING DUMBASS i don't think you've ever been sad in your entire life."

it's not like insulting him will make jinpei want to stop trying to be your friend. if anything he's getting more stubborn

i kinda wonder what kind of reference raimu had on humans. like we saw him being born (?) and there weren't any humans around. how did. how did he know what those looked like-

THEY DID IT. THEY MADE CATBOY JESUS.

THIS HAS LAYERS BUT I'LL TRY TO EXPLAIN AS BRIEFLY AS POSSIBLE

in homestuck (bear with me for a second, i'm sorry too) karkat has a hate-crush on john because he was able to grow up as a normal boy and he's jealous because he couldn't have that. he can't relate to him, he didn't want to be friends initially, he acted distant and belittled john at every opportunity, but john's just vibing and even thinks karkat is cute and REALLY wants to become friends with him

and in another life karkat was alien jesus christ

therefore-

aren't you happy, raimu? he was listening when you insulted him!

i mistyped "friends" but i thought it was funny so i let it be

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[emathevampire]

6, 17, 22, 47, and 100 for Amanthos?

6. What is your character’s opinion on nobility? On authority? Amanthos is lawful neutral, heavy emphasis on lawful. Knowing this, you’d probably expect him to be a spineless bootlicking coward who blindly obeys whatever authority happens to be in front of him... but he specifically holds himself to the laws of his own people, which demand that he serve and protect the living, and that means fighting evil and righting unjust systems where he finds them. He also serves a god of knowledge, who demands that knowledge be free to those who are willing and able to seek it. So for an incredibly lawful librarian, he finds himself hanging out with an awful lot of rebel scum and starting an awful lot of revolutions... and getting kicked out of a surprising number of libraries. He’s tried to turn himself in after accidentally kidnapping someone while breaking and entering into the secret lair of an untouchable noble to get to the bottom of a missing persons conspiracy. Basically, he respects the law, the enforcers of it, and the nobility... unless they’ve done something to make him feel obligated to do something about it. Then he’ll absolutely tear it all down.

17. What is your character’s favorite season? Like most astronomers, Amanthos has a love-hate relationship with winter, because while the night is longer, freezing your face off with your eye pressed to a telescope for 12+ hours trying to take notes with heavy gloves on in a tower on top of a mountain above the clouds at midnight in December is absolutely miserable.

22. What animal best represents your character? Hmmmmmmm. Probably moths, honestly. Nocturnal, soft and dusty, look fragile, eat paper, attracted to light... yeah. moths.

47. How did your character spend their childhood? Where did they grow up/who were their childhood friends? He had a pretty happy childhood, all things considered. He grew up in Ka’ama, the capital city of his homeland, which... best easy description I have is think aesthetically the city of Gondor, only it’s full of ancient elves, older magic, and legalized necromancy. When he says he spent his entire life in the biggest library in the world, he’s not lying, he was actually born there and even died and became undead there, dedicated himself to the order of monks that live there, he’s spent more time lost in those halls than some of the scholars who run the place. Most of his childhood he was either by himself or with his sister, Nikiti, until he went off to school, at which point he and Arekos became absolutely inseparable until it came time for them to decide on their careers. He has always been rather aloof, and didn’t have many friends, mostly seeing them as distractions from his studies... whenever people call him a friend, he usually tells them not to, as it takes him a very, VERY long time (like 15+ years) to consider anyone more than an acquaintance, and the level of familiarity others have for him after only a few days or weeks makes him uncomfortable. It’s a trait many of his people have, being extraordinarily long-lived compared to the rest of the world, though he is even less understanding of humans and their quick attachments than most.

100. What, currently, is your character the most curious about? Currently, he’s very curious to see whether or not the party can actually succeed at redeeming Maalik, the devil bound to Shiro, their sorcerer. In the multiverse of our campaign setting, my universe is the only one where ANYTHING has the potential for change, anything can atone, anything can choose to stop being evil and be redeemed... even demons, devils, and chromatic dragons. Asmodeus himself could be a good guy, if he ever felt like quitting as a villain. Now, this is a good enough thing to be curious about testing on its own, but Amanthos has a personal stake in the matter. When I played him as a PC, at the end of a long campaign he ended up having to take the throne as an Archdevil on the Council of Nine. Because he couldn’t leave the task to someone else, but also knows it’s only a matter of time before the power corrupts him and their plan to destroy evil forever by playing the long game from within fails because of him... he sent an avatar of himself to search for someone who could take his place. Someone good enough to resist corruption. Someone like Shiro, who’s spent his whole life with a devil bound to him and still manages to be stubbornly Chaotic Good. And if the party can redeem this devil... maybe there’s hope for the devil that the true Amanthos will have become by the time all is right again with this world. Because time is running out for him, and he can only keep his soul for so long, delay doing what needs to be done for so long, before he slips and falls right down that slippery slope of good intentions.

I the DM am VERY curious to see how this all resolves in the end. It’s all very elaborate, and 100% behind the scenes still, the party has no idea what he truly is, though I have begun dropping hints that he’s not quite what he seems there’s not going to be any way for them to start putting things together for at least another year probably. It’s an extremely long con... but I’m excited to see it pay off in the end.

[btsydtrash]

Ego [4]

mafia bts x stripper yn; hybrid universe

Everyone had heard of the Dirty7s, even distantly. Nobody could put names or faces to the members, but the name was enough to strike fear in the hearts of civilians, criminals, and law enforcement alike. They’re known to be methodical, impenetrable, and most of all, merciless. Nobody wants to cross any of them. Lest of all you - a college student stripping to pay her debts.

What happens when you fall into their web of deceit and lies?

What happens when you find you don’t want to escape, even when you know you should?

Masterlist  /  i don’t have a tag list  /  find me on twitter  /  word count: 5.6k

(A/N: Jungkook comes back! As does another one of our boys. And the external plot actually starts moving lol.)

(yandere / angst / gore / fluff / smut / violence)

Chapter 4: ‘Melancholy’

Jungkook comes back a week later, just like Jimin predicted, and is outside of the club, as if he had been there for a while, waiting for you to come in.

He looks different, a little buffer around the shoulders as the vestiges of his rut are still coursing through his veins. He doesn’t smell like a predator in rut at the moment, but the knowledge that he had just finished his cycle makes you feel shy to be in his presence.

You know it’s an archaic response but there’s something… unbearably sexy about a predator in rut - something that makes you just want to spread your legs and arch into them.

It’s a biological response and you have to pinch yourself, hard, as you walk towards the entrance.

He scurries over towards you from his shiny, expensive car - something you couldn’t be able to afford in your wildest dreams and a voice in the back of your head is singing, Look. He’s a provider! He’s got money. You’ll be safe with him.

You shake your head free of those thoughts just as he stops in front of you, hands hidden behind his back as if holding something.

His eyes are bright, excited almost, and you can’t stop your lips from quirking up in a small smile.

“Hyung told me he came and bothered you,” he says, breath puffing out in front of him in white clouds. His face is flushed, probably from the sudden change in temperature, and he seems sheepish, as if he’s expecting you to be angry with him because of Jimin’s behavior. He reveals what he had hidden behind his back and gently places a bouquet of pale pink and white tulips in your hands. Jungkook says, softer, stepping closer into your personal space, “I’m sorry if he said anything weird. He’s a bit of an asshole when he wants to be.”

You were too surprised by the presence of the flowers to even register what he was saying. You blink down at them, then back up at him, then down at the flowers once more to check if they were real, before you ask, quietly, “Are these for… me?”

He tilts his head to the side a little, tail wagging anxiously behind him. “Who else would they be for?”

“I just- I didn’t think you would do something like this,” you respond, holding the flowers tighter to your chest, worried he might take them back after reading your confusion as being ungrateful. You whisper, “They’re beautiful.”

He rubs the back of his neck and shrugs. “The flower lady said they were a good flower for apologies. I think they smell a little strong but… Yeah. I wanted to say sorry… About him.”

“Things were fine,” you tell him, cheeks growing warm at the gift. You still couldn’t believe he gave you flowers. You don’t think you’ve gotten flowers from a guy since high school. “Jimin wasn’t that bad.”

His lip curls at the sound of Jimin’s name coming out of your mouth. Jungkook remarks, brows raising briefly in something akin to annoyance, “I didn’t realize you two were close enough to use first names.”

There’s an implication in his voice that gives you pause.

You explain, “He introduced himself. I can’t be rude to my boss.”

Jungkook glances away, biting his bottom lip and he reaches for your hand, grasping your pinkie finger gently, just barely touching you but it was enough to make those pesky feelings of shyness well back up in your chest. He responds, “I didn’t mean anything by it. I just- I don’t like not seeing you. These last couple of days have been really shitty for me.”

He looks down at where his thumb and index finger are caressing your digit before he looks down to look directly into your eyes, bunny teeth peeking out from a charming smirk. “Did you miss me, Pretty?”

You choke on air at the sight of his expectant expression and find yourself unable to lie like you had wanted, Thandi’s warning flying straight out of your head at the sight of him.

“Y-Yeah.”

“Say it,” Jungkook says, a kiss closer to a command than you were used to with him but enjoying the feelings that it raised in you, moving even closer into your personal space. He ducks down a touch, eyes flicking to your lips briefly before they move back to your orbs, holding your gaze intently, “Tell me you missed me, Pretty.”

“I- I missed you, Jungkook,” you stutter, cheeks burning.

The smile he gives you in return is blinding.

He stands up straight, chest puffing up more in pride, and he says, “Good. I gotta run, but I’ll be back later, okay?”

You nod, dumbfounded.

Jungkook unhooks his scarf, a lightweight expensive thing with charming navy accents, and wraps it around your bare neck. As he’s doing so, he uses the ends of the scarf to pull you in, smoothly, and press a kiss to your forehead.

“See you, Pretty.”

And then he’s gone, tires squealing as he pulls out of the parking lot and down the street, disappearing into the early Winter fog, leaving you stunned, scarf draped tightly around your neck and flowers pressed tightly to your chest.

It takes much longer than you would like to admit for you to realize that he never told you that he missed you. He just had you say it, exposing all of your cards to his greedy eyes.

---------------------------------

Three things about Thandi that you could be certain.

First, she was always up for a good time.

Second, her nails were always going to be painted a beautiful ruby red, fingers and toes.

And third, she was never late to make some money.

Which is why it struck you so strange that she didn’t turn up for first call. You couldn’t see her on the club floor but you assumed she was doing a private room with a client. But then she missed her stage slot meaning someone else got to take her 11pm window (the most profitable time period for your club) and you have seen her slap the taste out of another dancer’s mouth over that slot before.

Rocky pulls you to the side and asks, “Have you spoken to Thandi today?”

You shake your head, frown deepening. “No. Should I call her?”

He curses before he fishes his phone out of his back pocket and waves you off. “Go back out on the floor. I’ll call her again and give her a piece of my fucking mind.”

You grimace at his tone of voice but you try to push your concern for your only friend from your mind to focus on work.

Which turns out to be infinitely harder than you thought it would be.

“Pretty, if I were less secure, I’d be upset you weren’t paying enough attention to me,” Jungkook murmurs from his spot on your lap. You jerk a little, putting your hands back into his hair and resume scratching at his scalp. He asks, “What’s on your mind?”

“Nothing, I’m sorry,” you mutter, shifting a little. “Is this okay?”

He twists onto his back to look up at you and levels you with a firm look. “I asked a question, Pretty.”

“I don’t-” You exhale. “My friend didn’t turn up today. And she isn’t picking up the phone for our boss. So, I’m worried about her.”

“Maybe she’s sick,” Jungkook suggests, fairly. “Or, maybe she’s in heat?”

“I doubt it,” you reason. “She would have told Rocky as soon as it started. He knows our cycles better than we do, so…”

Jungkook pauses, eyes sharpening. “Why?”

“Legally, we have to submit our heat schedules so they can give us paid time off,” you tell him. “It’s no biggie.”

Jungkook stares at you, brow furrowed. “Isn’t that uncomfortable?”

You shake your head. “It can be awkward if your boss is a creep. Sometimes they’ll offer to help you through your heat.”

He tenses up all over. Jungkook asks, a touch too airily to be convincing, “Has that ever happened to you?”

You shrug. “Once or twice.”

His voice drops an octave when he demands, “What are their names?”

You give him an amused look. “Why? What’re you gonna do? Beat them up or something?”

He pins you with a firm stare. “Or something.”

You push his hair back and his eyes flutter closed without his permission, relaxing into your touch.

You tease, “You’d probably kill them with those fists of fury. Jimin told me about your job.”

Jungkook looks up at you, betrayed before he childishly grumbles, “Hyung talks too much.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” You ask, trailing your fingers down the side of his face, scratching at the stubble on his chin. He hadn’t shaved in a couple of days, cheeks rougher than you have ever seen them, but it suits him. Everything suits him. It’s obscene how handsome he is. “You ask all these questions about me, but I don’t know anything about you. That doesn’t feel really fair to me.”

He exhales, rubbing at his thick eyebrow before he grumbles, “I don’t want you to look at me different.”

You request, quietly, “Why would the way I look at you change?”

He shrugs, glancing away. “I’m not a good guy.”

“You’re good to me,” you tell him, honestly. “All that I can do is assume things if you don’t tell me what’s true and what isn’t.”

His forehead crumples. “I know, Pretty.”

“Can I ask you a question?”

He nods, reaching for your hand. He presses a kiss to the back of your hand and holds it against his chest, right above his rabbiting heart beat. “Shoot.”

‘Do you work with the Dirty7s?’

‘Are you a drug dealer?’

‘Do you pimp girls?’

‘Are you using me?’

So many questions are flooding your brain as you stare into his eyes. He waits patiently for you to ask, swiping his thumb along the back of your hand.

You ask, “Are you going to hurt me?”

Jungkook frowns at the mere thought. “Never.”

“Then that’s all that matters to me,” you rebut. “You can tell me whatever you want at your own pace.”

He lifts himself up to press a kiss to your cheek, pausing for a moment there, before pulling back to give you a warm look. “My name is Jungkook Jeon. I’m 24 years old and an only child. I wasn’t born here. I have over eighty tattoos. I got my first at 13. No, you can’t see it. It’s been covered up and it was a very ugly stick-and-poke on my ankle that Jimin did for me. I like working out, eating my Hyung’s cooking and spending time with a pretty dancer who likes the color pink.”

He taps your nose when he says the last one, making you blush deeper.

“You didn’t have to tell me all of that,” you tell him, trying hard to hide your secret happiness over his confessions. “You and Jimin aren’t blood brothers?”

He shakes his head. “Do we look alike?”

You take a long look at him, bringing Jimin’s equally as handsome face to mind, before you shake your head slightly. “I don’t think so.”

“Jimin-hyung and I are in the same pack,” he tells you. “There’s seven of us in total. Two human owners, five hybrids.”

“Are all of the hybrids predators?”

He nods before he raises a brow. “Problem?”

You shake your head. “No. Just curious. I thought having so many predators would mean you clash a lot.”

He makes a face, like the idea itself is beyond ridiculous. “We’ve known each other too long for all that.”

“What do you mean?”

“The five of us met at a home for abandoned predator hybrids when we were kids. It was like an orphanage,” he explains. “We had formed a pack from way back then. I’m the youngest, and I was the last to join their pack. We got told that we wouldn’t get claimed because our pack was too big and too rambunctious. So, we kind of just assumed we would age out and probably get a job somewhere living some shitty life without much human interaction.”

“But you found your owners?”

He nods, little bunny teeth poking out as he smiles. “Yes, we did. Jin and Joonie-hyung found us and we all grew to love each other so much, we couldn’t be apart. They legally claimed us and we all live together.”

“Where?”

He nudges you. “Quid pro quo. I know where you live, you know where I live. Everything I’ve told you, you’ve told me the same about you.”

You think about it for a moment and he’s right - your name, your age, where you were born, your likes and dislikes and a bit about your family history.

“I live a little outside of the city, in a tiny studio apartment about an hour from here. It’s the only place I could afford without having roommates,” you disclose, honestly.

“We live in a high-rise in the middle of the business center,” he retorts, easily.

“I also told you about my job,” you prompt.

He nods, gravely, staring at his large hands. “I fight for a living.”

“Is it illegal?”

He bites his lip but nods. “Sometimes.”

“You never look hurt when I see you,” you say, reaching for his hand. You twist his heavy palm over in your hand and see that it’s free of most blemishes that you would expect. A beauty mark here and a callous there, but nothing that would belie a violent career.

Jungkook explains, eyes sharpening to remind you of his predatory nature, “I don’t lose.”

“Still, they should land a hit or two. A black eye or a cut lip,” you tell him. “You aren’t Superman.”

He snorts. “Rapid healing. You don’t heal?”

You shake your head. “I didn’t win that particular prize on the genetic hybrid lottery.”

Jungkook shifts his weight a little, as if suddenly conscious of how much he might weigh against your body. “How do you stop yourself from getting hurt?”

“I just have to be careful,” you reply, chuckling. “Ice on my joints before or after work, cheap massages once a week, wrapping my elbows and knees so I don’t bruise when I practice on the pole. Stuff like that.”

He frowns as he observes you, eyes flicking across your face. “You always give me new reasons to worry about you.”

You look away, suddenly shy, but he grasps your face with both hands, turning you to look back at him.

He asks, quietly, “Don’t you wanna look for somewhere a little closer to live? Or a little better? Why don’t you use the money I gave you?”

“I have bigger things I have to worry about,” you murmur, honestly. “Once I pay off my mom’s debt, I can think about moving.”

“Your mom’s debt?”

You nod. “I told you that I didn’t have a dad, right?” He nods. “Well, my mom died recently. And, she had to stay in the hospital because of her illness. After she died, I got sent some mail about owing money because of her therapy, surgeries and other things. Anything I earn that doesn’t go to my living expenses, goes straight to the hospital.”

Jungkook gets a contemplative look on his face. “How much?”

Your eyes widen, instantly. “No way.”

“YN, just tell me,” he pleads. You move to your feet, needing to put a bit of space between the two of you. He grabs your hand and turns you to face him, his hands moving to your hips to hold you in place, firm but gentle as if he’s holding something delicate in his hands. He swipes his thumbs along the points of your hips just above your panty line and he pleads, looking up into your eyes through long lashes, “I can help you.”

“I don’t need your help,” you respond, firmly, putting a hand on his chest to push him away. “You already do so much for me. I won’t let you do that.”

He licks his lips, a touch of frustration spreading across his shoulders, but he nods, thumbs still soothing your skin. “Fine. I won’t ask any more about the money, okay?”

You fix him with a long look. “Promise?”

“YN…”

“Promise,” you repeat, sternly.

Jungkook retorts, mocking your tone of voice, “I promise, baby.”

-----------------------

Thandi doesn’t turn up for work for the next two days. She also doesn’t answer the phone or respond to any text messages.

And that sets your stomach on edge.

You take a cab to her place and bang on the door, so hard and loud until your hand ached. A door opens next door and out pops a woman with dark mascara circles under her eye and clumpy, messy black hair. She seems hungover.

But she isn’t sick enough to stop herself from yelling, angrily, “She isn’t home. Hasn’t been for days. Quit banging on the door.”

“Are you sure?”

She gives you a sharp glare, flexing her claw-shaped nails against the door-frame. She was a predator, and it looks like she might’ve been an Alpha at that. You wonder how Thandi stomached to live here. You lived in one of the older government-assigned prey-only housing complex with a capped rent agreement because you were an unclaimed prey-hybrid with no familial ties since the death of your mother.

Still, if there was a prey-hybrid who could hold their own in a den full of predators and not lose their cool, it was Thandi.

“I said what I said,” she retorts, meanly. “Now get the fuck out. You’re stinking up the hallway.”

She wasn’t wrong - your hormones were going hay-wire as you were approaching pre-heat and the stress of your missing friend was driving you even crazier. You shouldn’t have any problems at work until you properly enter the heat stage but your scent regulation was a little out of whack.

You leave the apartment complex and make a bee-line for the nearest taxi to go to the closest police station.

Walking into an environment crammed full of testosterone-laden predator-hybrids brings you back to that moment, about a year and a half ago, when Thandi had been arrested and you were called to bail her out. You hated the feeling of being there as much as you did back then too, being in such an unsafe environment, but you home to find someone who would actually help you.

“E-Excuse me?”

An Asian woman, you can tell she’s a hamster-hybrid from her pine-dusted scent, glances over at you and instantly, her face becomes warm. She sees your tail, your ears and your demeanor and pegs you as prey. She says, softly, “Hey, honey. How can I help you?”

You stutter, nervously twisting your hands in your lap, “I- I want to report a missing person? Who do I go to see that?”

“You can do that with me,” she replies. “Who’s the missing person?”

“My friend, Thandi Rogers,” you respond. “She’s been gone since Monday, maybe Sunday morning, and she won’t pick up the phone. I was told by her neighbor that she hasn’t been home in days and I- I’m so worried.”

She nods, tapping away at her keyboard. “Do you have a picture of Miss Rogers?”

You nod, searching in your purse for your phone. “This is the two of us.”

The woman takes your phone and takes a picture of the photograph taken some months ago during a spa date that she had treated you to for one of your birthdays. The two of you looked so happy that day. It was one of your most prized possessions.

She inquires, delicately, “Is she your girlfriend?”

You shake your head. “Just a really close friend of mine. We work together.”

She asks, still typing, “Where?”

“At Opal City,” you reply, quieter.

She pauses, key-tapping ceasing for a moment, and you can physically feel the change in the dynamic between you. It always happens whenever you mention your job. She enquires, “The prey strip-club?”

You nod. Her expression sours a little, her nose twitching in distaste, before she proposes, “Are you sure she isn’t just off with a John?”

You rear back in shock. While you’re used to civilians being assholes when they find out about you being a sex worker, you would have expected the police to at least hide it a bit better. “She’s not a working girl. We’re dancers, not prostitutes.”

She raises a brow. “Same thing, isn’t it?”

You bite down on your trembling lower lip, eyes filling with tears, and you grind out, angrily, “Are you gonna help me, or are you just gonna keep judging us?”

“According to her sheet, she has been arrested previously for solicitation,” she informs you, detachedly. “She probably just got caught up with a client and hasn’t gotten to her phone yet.”

You are so caught up in your rage that you don’t feel the presence come up behind you until the shadow is looming directly over your body.

“Officer Kim,” a sharp voice snarls. “Did I just hear you deny help to a civilian?”

You look over to see a tense-looking dog-hybrid, dressed in a smart shirt tucked into black slacks. He looks vaguely familiar, so familiar that it makes you frown as you take him in. He wasn’t bulky or imposing, but still, he had a commanding air about him that forced you to pay attention to him. His hair was pushed back, neat and cut down at the sides, giving him a clean appearance, and his shirt is rolled up at the sleeves, revealing sinewy arms free of blemishes or tattoos. The frown on his face is enough to force you to look away, even as he glances your way, brow pitching briefly in what seemed like recognition.

“Detective Jung,” she says, jolting up in surprise. She looks thoroughly chagrined. “I just- I don’t believe the person to actually be missing.”

The man seems to be barely holding back his snarl of disapproval and his righteous anger makes you feel a little more relaxed - it felt as if someone was on your side.

Detective Jung bites out, jaw thrumming in annoyance, “Your baseless presumption aside, can you tell me what our protocol is for any and all potentially missing persons?”

“Make a report and chase it up the following day,” she repeats, awkwardly. She shoots you a look before looking back down at her hands, biting her bottom lip. She mutters, “I apologize, Sir.”

The detective levels her with a pointed look before he replies, “I’ll talk with you later, Kim.” He turns to you, eyes softening considerably, and he says, softly, “Miss, would you care to come with me to an interview room and I can find out the information necessary for us to help find your friend?”

You nod, shaken up but happy that someone was sticking up for you.

“This way, Miss,” he says, leading you by the arm to a room near the back. “Take a seat. Would you like some water? Or coffee?”

You shake your head. “I don’t think I can stomach anything right now.”

He takes a seat next to you, pulling a notepad out of his inside jacket pocket, and “I overheard the tail-end of your conversation, but not for all of it. Would it be okay for you to go over the information with me once more?”

“Yeah.”

He pulls a pen out and scratches the date at the top of the page. “Tell me all that you told the other officer.”

You do as he says, recounting the information your told the bigoted officer at the front desk, hesitating over the information regarding your job, worried that it would sour his perception of the situation and potentially lead him to behaving in the same way. However, his expression doesn’t even ripple slightly when you inform him of your job.

“Officer Kim mentioned a prior collar for solicitation,” he says. “Are you aware of that?”

You nod. “I picked her up when she got arrested. She tried to solicit a police officer. But, we sued the city for excessive violence and we won. She broke her ankle because the guy was really aggressive with her and it was caught on CCTV.”

“I remember that,” he says, a contemplative look taking over his face. “I think I remember you. Your friend, she was wearing this huge fur coat and broke a couple of her nails, right?”

You nod. “You were the one who helped me?”

His whole expression changes, his smile nearly keeling you over with its brightness. “That was me. It’s nice seeing you again. Not under these circumstances, of course.”

You try to give him a returning smile, but it comes out watery and pathetic. “My friend isn’t taking clients anymore. She… She used to, yeah, but she isn’t anymore. She doesn’t even talk to anyone from back then. She promised, you know?”

He puts a hand atop your own trembling one and looks into your eyes. “I believe you, YN. You don’t have to fight me so hard on this. I’m gonna do everything I can for you, okay?”

You nod, blinking through your tears. “T-Thank you. You’re being so nice to me… Why?”

He shrugs, removing his hand and placing it on his own knee. “I’m just a nice guy.”

“I can see that,” you retort, lips pulling up into a weak smile. “Can I… Can I give you my number or something? If something happens, you’ll call me?”

He pauses for a moment, hesitant. “I shouldn’t take your number, YN. It’s not really appropriate.”

You bite your bottom lip, saddened. “Can I come here, then? If I have questions, can I come here and find you? Or call, maybe? I promise I won’t call too much. I just don’t want you to forget about her.”

He levels you with a long look, sympathy written across his face, before he nods. “Call the precinct and give them my name. They’ll direct it to my desk and if I’m here, I’ll answer. If I’m not, they’ll leave a message on my work phone.”

You nod, resisting the urge to hug him. “Thank you, Detective Jung.”

“My name is Hoseok,” he replies, leaning forward in his chair. “I promise, YN. I’ll do all I can, okay?”

You nod and sniffle a little. “Can I have that coffee now? I feel kinda shaky.”

He smiles and moves to his feet, leaving you for only as long as it takes to make you a steaming cup of coffee. “Our coffee machine isn’t exactly top quality but it’s better than nothing, right?”

You take the spoon and spin it in the dark, steaming liquid. “Hoseok?”

He glances over at you from where he had been scanning his notes. “Do you think she’s alive?”

Hoseok pauses for a moment, running his tongue over the front of his teeth. “I think that she might be in serious trouble. Being gone for so long without any contact isn’t a good sign, but, and I’m gonna be frank, if we don’t find a body, we’ll always keep looking for her.”

You let out a sigh of relief, shoulders dropping as the tension leaves your body. “Okay. I’m sorry to keep you. I’ll finish this and when I calm down, I’ll leave.”

He shakes his head. “I’ll stay with you until you feel better. I don’t mean any disrespect when I say this but your scent is a little haywire right now.”

You take a gentle sniff of your wrist and your eyes widen, considerably. “I should probably go grocery shopping after this.”

“Just ask your owner to do it for you,” he says, gently. His eyes sharpen before they melt back into the pool of warmth that you had been staring into this whole time. “You shouldn’t put your body under unnecessary stress.”

You snort, but the sound lacks humor. “I would if I had one.”

“You’re unclaimed?”

You nod, taking a tentative sip of the coffee, wincing as it burns your tongue, eyes fixed on the brown liquid in the cup. You miss the excited uptick of his lips that Hoseok is barely able to hide, clenching his fists tight under the desk to ground himself. You explain, none-the-wiser, “Thandi’s my only bond in the city. She’s my whole world here.”

“No family?”

You reply, tongue still working around the words awkwardly, still not accustomed to how easily the words tumble out of your mouth, “All dead.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” he responds, earnestly. “Do you have any access to family services? They specialize in helping unclaimed prey who might need help.”

You shake your head. “I’m 24. I’m old enough to look after myself.”

He snorts, and the smile makes him look ten years younger. “I felt the same at 24. Then I got claimed and I realized just how much pressure I had been putting on myself unnecessarily. It feels good to let go and actually be able to trust someone enough to catch you. It helps that I’m in a big pack. We all help each other in different ways.”

Stiffly, you reply, “I’m fine with the way things are.”

He notices the tension in your body and moves away a little, giving you some space. “I didn’t mean to imply you weren’t happy. I’m sure you and Thandi have a wonderful friendship. I hope you don’t think I was talking down on that because that wasn’t my intention.”

You stare at him in his eyes, measuring the earnestness in his expression, before you nod. “I understand.”

You glance at the barely touched coffee and Hoseok says, breaking the tension with ease, “I think you should get going home. Do you need me to give you a ride?”

“In a cop car? My neighbors might think I was being escorted for all the wrong reasons,” you try to joke but the words fall flat. You clear your throat and continue, “Thanks but I’ll just take the bus.”

“Take a cab,” he says, reaching into his back pocket and pulling out two twenties. “And eat something. Coffee won’t sustain you, especially if you’re in pre-heat. Your metabolism is going into overdrive just breathing right now.”

You try to give him the money back, too stunned by his kindness, but he shakes his head. “Just say thank you.”

“Thank you…”

He grins, brightly, tail wagging excitedly behind him. “Now, go.”

Hoseok leads you out of the room, walking through the sea of predators acting as your shield, and you find that you don’t feel the bubbles of nausea rising up in you that you did when you first walked in alone.

He hails a cab for you and makes sure you get settled in. “Tell him your address once I’m gone if that’ll make you feel for comfortable.”

You look up at him. “But you’re a cop. You could just find my address.”

He thinks for a minute before his brows raise. “You know, you’ve got a really bad perception of people like me.”

“Cops or predators?”

He raises a brow, amusedly. “Both.”

Hoseok pats the top of the cab and the driver takes off, leaving the man standing, waving you off, his gentle smile fixed in place.

As soon as you are out of his line of sight, his expression dims and the genial smile slips from his face. The detective fishes his phone from his back pocket and pulls open a hidden app, turning his back on his station and a darkness spreads in his orbs that, for a split-second, reflects the true depths of his depravity.

She’s just as cute as I remember.

Cool it, Hyung. We’re supposed to be playing it slow. Relax.

Almost lost it in there. Smelled so good.

She smells like us, doesn’t she?

Not enough. She smells too much like Outsiders.

It was making me sick.

Give me some time. I’ll get her smelling like us inside and out.

Then you all can have your turns.

Hoseok shoves his phone away and turns on his heel to deal with Officer Kim and her penchant for dismissing cases that she didn’t deem important to her. If it hadn’t been YN she had been talking to, Hoseok wouldn’t have given a fuck about anything and would have went about on his merry way.

But, as soon as he saw the familiar line of her back and the upturn of her pretty nose from the side, it was as if the whole world went silent and he couldn’t stop himself from lashing out.

He’ll teach the lazy officer a lesson and earn some brownie points with his superiors. Although he hates sucking up to the pathetic cops he should technically be stepping on the necks of, his position in the police force was essential for their slow and efficient take-over of the surrounding districts.

Of the pack, he was able to hide his blood-lust the best, and unlike Jungkook who had the physique but not the patience to work with others and Taehyung who had the charm but not the ability to hide his true personality like Hoseok could, Hoseok fit in seamlessly.

Being a dog-hybrid meant that he was more suited to working narcotics, which is where he had spent the last three years of his law enforcement career. Now, though, he had been moved to a larger precinct in the center of their neighboring district.

Their subtle acquisition plan was coming along perfectly.

All they had to do was do as they always did: obliterate the competition and absorb or demolish the supporting manpower.

Silent and successful, as Joonie always said.

- end -

Schemer (1), Abstentious (2), Thievery (3), Melancholy (4), Writhing (5), Lusting (6), Non-negotiable (7), Cutting the cord (8)

[anime-rambles]

"OMEGA STOP PART 1"

Pairing: Alpha Bakugou x Alpha Kirishima x Omega Reader

Type: ABO Dynamic, Angst, blood, SFW

Word Count: 2900+

A/N: Seeing how everyone is loving “Welcome Home Omega” I decided to do another omegaverse fic this time with lots of angst. Thank you so much for all the kind words, reblogs, likes and follows. Was thinking of making a Part 2 for this? What do you think?

Summary: Omega y/n returns home to her alpha’s after being away in Europe, thinking she would be able to re-join her alphas and be happy. Only to discover they move on without her.

Link to Part 2 = https://anime-rambles.tumblr.com/post/657712192264814592/omega-stop-part-2

************************************************************************

I collect my suitcase from baggage claim and make my way towards the arrivals gate. It has been an incredibly long 8 years since I’ve been back home in Japan. After graduating UA with all my friends, I decided I needed a new path, something exciting that didn’t include my alphas. Being away from my family and friends has been one of the most difficult things to go through and more importantly being away from my alphas. It was nice to be needed and not just because of my second gender.

After graduating UA, I joined Fatgum’s agency and from there I met Jackie one of fat’s previous partners on the drug squad. She needed a bright new hero that wanted to work outside of Japan and head off a special unit in charge of investigating quirk enhancing drugs. At first everyone was onboard and excited fir me but as time went on, it was becoming increasing hard to keep in contact with my busy alphas. So, one Christmas, two years into the job we all agreed to stop dating and put our relationship on hold, until I was finished with the special unit or until one of the alphas said enough, come home. I agreed happily, never thinking I would get the come home call, but here I am. I left Europe and returned home.

The doors of arrivals opened in front of me, I look around the barrier hoping to see either of my boys, Bakugou or Kirishima, but neither blonde nor red head could be seen. I walk the corner a small bit, thinking they might be hiding but nothing. I spot movement in the distant, a blur of pink rushing to my arms, knocking me off balance.

“YYYY/NNNN, I CAN’T BELIEVE YOUR HOME” Mina sobs into my ear. “Mina” I say back hugging her tightly. Out of everyone in UA Mina stayed in constant contact with my updating me on the group’s latest gossip and everyone hero’s ranking. “Come on, lets get you home” She speaks again, taking one of my bags and my hand in hers. I smile to her and gladly accept her hand. Mina is an omega like me, after UA her and Sero got together and currently have a beautiful house and a serval fluffy cats. Once we reach the car and start our journey. Mina tells me of everyone, what they are doing and what is planned for my coming home party tonight.

“Wait, slow down, where are you taking me first” I say, laughing at her excitement. With her hands on the car wheel. She says “Bakugou and Kirishima’s” I pause for a second. They must just be living together and not actually still together without, right? They wouldn’t betray me, would they? These thoughts are fully my head, maybe coming home wasn’t a good idea. I should have ignored the “come home” agreement. What if they just want to use me to have their kid and toss me aside.

“Y/N, please say something, you made me promise not to talk about the boys when were away and right now you’re kinda scaring me.” She presses.

“I’m… just thinking. So out with it tell me what has been going on, why are they living together.” I asked shifting in my seat to look at her and she drives down the straight road.

“Okay, so it started whe….”

Mina basically said what I thought she might after I left fully and didn’t come back like we agreed. Kirishima and Bakugou stopped for a while, they didn’t live together, socialise or anything but after Kirhisma was badly injured in a battle, they moved back in with each other and kept their relationship quiet, it’s been 6 years, that they been together while I have been alone.

“So that’s basically all of it y/n, I’m sorr…”

I cut her off, “Mina this is not for you to apologise for, you kept your promise to me and now I must face the music as they say in Europe.” We had arrived outside their house ages ago, but we ended up talking. I step out of the car and move to grab my bags. I look up to the house, it’s huge and white. Very modern and what’s looks to be very expensive. But what can you expect from the Number 1 and Number 5 heroes in Japan. Mina steps out and comes to my side of the car to hug me goodbye and to tell me the information for tonight. Just then the front door opens, Kirishima steps out with a huge grin on his face. He has changed a lot since I left. He is like a wall, thick with muscle and sporting a high red ponytail.

“There she is,” Kirishima says, holding out his arms as he makes his way down the path towards me. I drop my bags and run to him. I can be anger later, but right now I need this hug. “Here I am,” I say back to him, I took my face into his neck to breathe him in, he tries to do the same but it is unable as I have my marks and scent glands covered as Europe has different rules than us. I can sense the confusion and say I will explain later. Kirishima greats Mina and they discuss briefly about this evening's plans and Mina is off on her way, waving goodbye. With his arm around me, he guides me inside towards the kitchen. We each stand on opposite sides of the Island, not knowing what to say first.

“So, where’s Bakugou? I thought you would both be at the airport” I say frankly to him, showing my frustrations. “He had to work, but he should be back home soon,” Kirishima replies shuffling his feet. I stare at him, I want to voice my anger, I want him to know how much I hurt, I need to do this with Bakugou. “Okay” I reply looking at my bags, why did I come here, why did I think we could go back to normal. “He’ll probably be late like always though, why don’t show you to your room and you can get ready for this evening” He smiled at me, like he trying to form an olive branch between us. I nod and follow him out of the room and up the stairs. All around me are reminders, parties I could not attend, award shows I missed but right now I can’t dwell on that. My time in Europe was the best experience of my life and right now I want to go back. Kirishima leads me to a guest room and leaves me to get ready. I sigh, this is going to be difficult.

************************************************************************

Doing the finishing touches to my hair, I smooth my dress down as I look in the mirror. I’m wearing a tight-fitting black dress, that is off the shoulders. I rub my hands down my neck, wishing I could have had the surgery to remove my mark guards yesterday before I came home. Just to show them, that I kept my promise to them. I hear noises downstairs, Bakugou had arrived home ages ago but did not even come to say hello, just went straight to the shower. Although I know what Mina told me was true, I needed proof if I was to enter an argument with Bakugou. I walk a small bit from my room trying to stay quiet, I turn a corner and see a wall of photo frames, most are from UA and some are from Dates we three had together. The difference, I was no longer in the photos, I was cut out. You could see my arm or a sliver of my hair and maybe an eye. I felt rejection, my inner omega whined. Why would they do this to me? I ripped the frame from the walls and marched downstairs. My heels clicked on the floor beneath me. I rounded the corner and enter the kitchen not bothering to wait for their conversation to finished. I throw the frames onto the countertop and look up at both of them making eye contact. If I wasn’t so mad and hurt, I would be shocked at how mature and sexy they both are right now. Kirishima's hair is half up, half down being supported with braids and he is in a maroon shirt opened slightly. Whereas Bakugou wears a white shirt and supports an undercut. My alphas have matured, I suppose I have as well.

Kirishima looks at the frames and stays quiet. Bakugou does not dare to break eye contact with me.

“So, let me get this straight. I leave home, to become great in something that is bigger than me. I leave my alphas with an agreement, that we all would hit pause, and eventually I would come back or get a called from either of you to come home. I follow the rules, and it seems to me what I got in thanks was to be cut from your lives.” I raise my voice, guesting to the pile in front of me.

“tck…” Bakugou replies and looks at Kirishima.

“Don’t tck me Bakugou, it seems to me that I’m not even wanted here anymore, so why was I called home, let me guess you need an omega to have your child and then I’m to disappear,” I respond. “No that’s not why we called you back” Kirishima speaks up, slightly walking towards to appear less hostile.

“Funny how you call us your alphas but yet, our marks, our bond is no longer on your neck,” Bakugou responds, pointing towards me. “They are not gone, they are covered by a skin slip, in Europe is safer to have them covered in case you are kidnapped and forced to bond with someone,” I say back to him. “Omega, please let us explain, I understand your hurt, but we want you still, your part of our family,” Kirishima replies placing a hand on my elbow. I jerk away from him.

“So, all this time, when I was away, suffering through my heats alone. Omega depression after omega depression. You two, were what? Together happily rutting away.”

“Yes, how do we know you never had it off with anyone else,” Bakugou said leaning on the Island in front of me. “Bakugou, don’t say that -” Kirishima scolded him. “- we don’t think that y/n”. I stand there shocked; I can sense he is hurt but right now I will not be his vent.

“ah, I see, I was away fucking my way through Europe apparently and my alphas decided that instead of coming to see me and to tell me. They went behind my back” I stare at Bakugou not daring to back down. “How do we know you weren’t, how do we know you didn’t get our marks removed?” Bakugou asked.

I scuffed and turned out of the kitchen, towards my bags that were left at the bottom of the stairs. Both Alphas stayed in the kitchen and spoke to each other. I opened my bags and reached into it to find a wrapped plastic bag. I walked back into the kitchen, hearing Bakugou raising his voice at Kirishima, “I can’t Kiri, you almost died.” Kirishima hushed Bakugou as I re-entered the kitchen. I threw the bag at Bakugou.

“Go on, open it -” I say with my hands on my hips. “- There’s your proof” I stand and watch it. Bakugou opens the bag and pulls out two jumpers, one of his and one of Kirishima’s. Their scent has well worn out but mine could be smelled. Years of being alone, years of depression, laid in their hands. Kirishima’s eye watered. “This proves nothing, maybe if you weren’t lying about our mark being gone, we wouldn’t have this problem,” Bakugou said, dropping the jumpers on the countertop. “What do you want me to do, perform surgery right now, you know once you never doubted me” I laugh under my breath.

“Yeah well once, you weren’t such a slut, betraying your alp-“Bakugou responded but Kirishima stepped in creating a barrier between us. Tears started to form in my eyes, my vision blurred. Fine, if Bakugou wants proof right now that I was loyal then fine, I’ll give it to him.

I look at my nails and smile to myself, I thank whatever god is listening that I have long pointed nails today. Kirishima is currently speaking to Bakugou, standing in front of me. I can no longer hear him. All I know is, those skin slips have to go now. I take a deep breath in and dig my nails into my neck around where the stitched used to be. I whimper, both can smell blood and turn to look at me. I rip the slip from my skin, blood starts to pour from my neck but nothing that would majorly hurt me. I reach for the other and dig my nails in. “Y/n stop, what are you doing” Kirishima reaches to stop me, but he’s too late I pulled the other off and make eye contact with Bakugou. “You wanted your proof, here you are Bakugou, take a whiff I have NEVER BETRAYED EITHER OF YOU” I scream, throwing the slips onto the counter and storm off.

“Omega come back now” Bakugou shouts after me, I can hear him chase me and reach for my arm. I pull it forward and turn to face him. Tear are leaving my eyes, ruining my makeup, my dress ruined from the blood. “What Katsuki, you believe me now? What do you want from me, why are you mad?” Bakugou stands in shock, unable to talk. “ANSWER ME NOW,” I scream again. Bakugou reaches forward grabbing my arms, tears forming in his. Kirishima was leaning on the door behind him.

“HE ALMOST DIED, AND YOU WEREN’T THERE, I WAS ALONE, WATCHING HIM DIE AND YOU WERENT THERE, YOU PROMISED ME I’D NEVER BEEN ALONE, AND YOU LEFT ME ALONE WAITING FOR HIM TO COME BACK” he roared at me. I shoved Bakugou off me.

“I CAME HOME WHEN EIJIROU WAS IN HOSPITAL” I shouted back, both alphas heads shot straight up and looked at me. “I was there, I broke me promise to stay away until I was asked by either of you to come home. But I saw the fight, I saw Eijirou get knockdown and didn’t get back up. I hopped on the nearest flight and came home. You need proof, ask Fatgum, Denki, Tamaki, Deku.. anyone who sat in that waiting room.” I said looking into Bakugou's eyes. Kirishima walked forward to join us. Bakugou went to speak. “No you let me speak, I was there. Kirishima opened his eyes and called me an angel and then you shot into the room in a panic and threw yourself on him. Bakugou you looked in my eyes and didn’t say a word, so I stepped back, you saw me there, you. Don’t blame this on me. Knowing how angry you would be, Deku came and got me, promising to watch over both of you.” I stopped to wipe the tears from my eyes.

“How dare you hold that over me Katsuki Bakugou,” I say to him, Kirishima reaches for my hand as if to pull us all back together. I step back, I need to breathe to get out. I walk about the front door, grabbing my handbag. “I’ll see you at the party, some welcome home this was,” I say not looking back and slam the front door.

I walk down the path and reach for my phone, dialing Mina’s number. “Hey girly, I’m just about to leave for the pub,” Mina says down the phone. I start to cry and sit down on the curb. “Sero, wait a second” Mina whispers away from the phone. “Y/n, what’s happened, what’s going on,” She says again her voice has lowered. “Mina I need some help; I can’t see everyone looking like this,” I say back to her. I cry again, I can hear the door behind me open and I stand. I turn and see Kirishima, “Y/n wait please, come back in, we can sort this out,” he says, and I look over his shoulder. Bakugou is frozen in the same spot, staring at the floor. “I’m almost there, start walking to me,” Mina says and hangs up. I bend down and undo the straps of my heels, steeping out of them leaving them on the step. I start to run down the street, I need some quiet, I need to think.

“OMEGA STOP” Bakugou shouts behind me, but I can’t. I see Mina’s car and run towards it.

[genshinboys]

Thigh job with Genshin Boys - Xiao

Genre: Smut

Pairing: Fem reader x Xiao

When you enter your flat, a handsome but grumpy Yaksha is sitting cross-legged on your bed resting his chin in the palm of his small hand. He grimaces and shoots something that can be referred to as a death stare in your direction. 

Here we go again. You think to yourself as you close the door behind you.

„You are late.” He basically growls at you fixing you with another menacing glare.

„It’s nice to see you too, Baby.” You approach the sulking adeptus and lean in to kiss his forehead but, alas, he backs away and frowns in turn.

„Oh, no kisses then?” A smile on your face but a sneer in your voice makes his blood boil.

It is like a match in a powder barrel.

„Don’t play dumb with me, Y/N!” He warns. „I know all of your cheap tricks.”

You let out an annoyed huff. Arms crossed on your chest.

„Why would you even ask when I saw you following me all the damn time, hmm?” You accuse your boyfriend, gazing right into Xiao's averting eyes.

„I wasn’t follow-,” and then he goes silent knowing fully well that lying isn’t an option with you.

„So?” You nag, hoping for any kind of response. „No need to be this jealous, Xiao.”

„Don’t get weird ideas in your head.” The boy deadpans. „I’m not jealous!” He defends himself but it doesn’t sound convincing enough even for his own ears. He blushes and turns his head away.

You let out a sigh and smile warmly at your boyfriend’s pettiness.

Does he even realise how cute he is? You briefly wonder and then you reach for his silky hair and ruffle it affectionately.

It’s been a taxing, full of ups and downs journey since you met the haunted by karmic debt Yaksha. At first, he didn’t even acknowledge your presence. You were just another bothersome individual and he could not care less about your existence. It was unnerving. He was snarky, seething with rage for no reason, hiding his feelings for so long that it seemed to you that they were going to explode inside of him one day leading to his utter despair and demise. You got to know about his past and the weight of his karmic debt from Zhongli. You took pity. Somehow you felt compelled to help the boy, regardless of his repulsive demeanour. The golden-eyed Yaksha was of a different opinion, though. 

Xiao didn’t want you to get close to him. He couldn’t make any sense of your stubbornness. Why would you even want to have anything to do with him? Him? 

A barbaric monster, eaten up alive by remorse and regret. 

A blood-thirsty fiend whose sole purpose of breathing is to slaughter and spread fear wherever he shows his face. 

These were the thoughts so deeply engraved in his unfortunate soul that he couldn’t allow anyone to come near him.

He perceived himself as a hollow, barren of any human emotions vessel. The only feelings he was familiar with were pain and the burden of his legacy that he is forced to carry up to this day.

Bizarrely, as time had passed he was taken aback by some unfamiliar sensation of tightness in his chest. It wasn’t painful. Nothing that would come close to the distress caused by the divine will. It wasn’t permanent, either. It only happened in your presence, as Yaksha would hesitantly observe. Sometimes it got even worse. It would be accompanied by this fluttery feeling in the pit of his stomach. 

„Why are you this close? Huh? Do you have a death wish?”

„Move, I don’t have time to sit around and be idle like you do.”

„You have no respect for the adepti. Stop fooling around.” 

The more he pushed you away the more you were determined to lure him in. You couldn’t stop laughing when one day Zhongli informed you that the troubled Yaksha came to him to seek advice regarding this weird tightness in his chest and an upset stomach when you were around. 

And so, you smile fondly at your boyfriend as he yanks your hand away not liking the way you tousle the emerald green strands.

„I’m sorry XIao. I didn’t mean to be late. Just wanted to buy some jewellery.” You point to your thigh to get the adeptus’ attention back where it should be, which is you, not the wall.

Xiao glances at your thigh doing his best to remain impassive and uninterested. Unfortunately, his eyes widen a little and his mouth is somehow stuck hanging open as if he were to say something but the words never come out.

„You saw me bargaining with the shopkeeper, nothing wrong about that, right?” You explain to the adeptus currently captivated by the glimmering golden chain adorning your thigh.

Xiao has a lot to learn when it comes to dealing with his own emotions. You are acutely aware of that. He doesn’t know how to react, how to show that he cares or process what he feels. He doesn’t also entirely understand the purpose of half of the things that you insist on doing to him. Playful bites, tickling, holding his hand in public. He doesn’t question these actions even though it’s all a novelty. He does know for sure that it makes him feel flustered and all hot inside. 

Does he despise it? No. 

Would he like for you to continue? The answer to that question is definitely affirmative but Xiao is not going to admit it out loud. 

He also has no clue how to initiate all of these things. Is he supposed to bite you back as well? What if he hurts you? Everything is so overwhelming as he’s endured years of solitude and sadness. You have to patiently teach him everything from square one. Nevertheless, it’s incredibly rewarding and you find yourself falling for him a bit more with each clumsy kiss, a shy but warm hug and an awkward attempt at complimenting you.

However, despite being not well-versed in sexual encounters, Xiao does pleasantly surprise you by catching up with everything real quick. 

So, as his eyes are fixated on the trinket, you once again run your hand through his lush and long hair.

„Why would you even buy it? Pointless.” The boy retorts grumpily this time showing no signs of objection to your tender gesture. He moves his head up a little, losing himself to the tingling sensation going down his scalp.

„So that you can stare at me like that with those needy eyes?” You answer truthfully, barring the real intent behind your actions.

He snorts and his face turns into that lovely shade of pink and then deep red within seconds.

He would absolutely turn his gaze away if not for the fact that you take his chin in your hand and thrust his face upwards forcing him to look you straight in the eyes.

„If you don’t like it you can take it off.”

„No need.” 

You chuckle softly.

„Let me make amends for my delay.” 

You take a step forward and place your knee on the verge of the bed. Xiao drinks in the view of your thigh-highs squeezing into the meat of your legs. The chain shimmering lightly right above the lacy material.

„You can touch it, Baby.” You encourage the nervous Yaksha.

Visibly tensed, he reaches for the exposed skin and lightly traces the chain with his unsure fingers. It almost tickles but you let him do as he pleases and soon Xiao attempts to fully envelop your thigh with his greedy hand. He does cover half of it at best, but he seems satisfied and proceeds to squeeze it. It feels soft to the touch and he shivers at how warm and inviting your legs are in contrast to his icy-cold and sweaty palms. Bewitched, Xiao aches for more and he selfishly pulls you in so that you are now kneeling in front of him on the bed.

He stops breathing when you swiftly unbutton your shorts and undress for him. You let his eyes roam over your half-naked body for some time enthralled by the way Xiao’s pupils dilate in awe.

You lean into him as Xiao pulls you towards him for a messy kiss. It isn’t gentle as usual but full of passion and urgency. He whines when you bite on his lower lip but then you gently stroke him with your tongue to ease the discomfort.

Slowly, very very slowly, your hands go down his torso only to finally stop at the bulge in Xiao’s loose pants. You tug at the waistband and Xiao lifts his ass a bit to help you strip him naked. His penis, hard and heavy, resting now on his lower belly. He hisses when you palm his hard erection and that simple touch sends jolts of electricity down his spine. It leaves him intoxicated once you start gliding with the heel of your palm up and down the underside of his member. You repeat the movement and Xiao’s body jerks in response.

„Don’t tease.” The adeptus pleads through gritted teeth.

„I’m so sorry, Baby. Gonna make you feel real good.”

Xiao can feel himself growing impossibly harder when you place your feet on either side of his hips. When he looks down he can see your wet folds and the pinkish colour of your tight hole. Lying on your back, you prop yourself on your elbows so that you can look at Xiao’s face in the process. You scoot a bit closer to the confused boy, your bum is right in front of his erected shaft. You take his cock in your hand and guide him in between your thighs. In the beginning, you try to be delicate. You gently rub the tip of his cock, circle his shaft with your fingers and with a fisted hand spread his pre-cum all the way down to his pubic hair so that he is thoroughly lubricated. You wouldn’t like to hurt the boy during the whole ordeal. 

His breath is shallow. Excitedly, you clasp your thighs together and start playing with his dick. You rotate your hips and massage his cock. It slides in and out and Xiao growls feeling ecstatic. You exchange between rubbing him with your thighs or gliding your hand along his cock, starting at the very top and working your way down to the bottom until Xiao can’t stifle his cries anymore. A few more strokes and he is definitely going to beg. 

Xiao is on fire. It feels too good to be true and he wants this moment to last forever. He licks his dry lips and moans wantonly thrusting his hips forward. He meets you mid-way and the friction it creates every time he pushes his dick in between your legs leaves him gasping.

„You’re making me cum, Y/N.” He cries out for the last time before it is too late to warn you.

„Then cum for me, Baby.” 

Obediently, Xiao shoots his thick and heavy load all over your lower body. For a moment the world around him seems out of focus and it makes him dizzy. He pants heavily and can’t catch his breath. He feels as if he was drowning. But then, your loving arms envelop him and he is safe again. You gently stroke his chest hugging him from behind. He melts in your embrace letting his head rest on your shoulder. His erratic heartbeat slowly going back to its usual rhythm.

„I think it looks pretty on you.”

„Hmm?” You want the boy to clarify what he meant.

„The chain... Looks pretty.”

„Oh.” 

Shakily, he reaches out to put your hand into his and he squeezes them together. 

„I’ll never let you lose yourself again, XIao. I love you and I will protect you forever.”

Xiao recognizes the familiar feeling of tightness in his chest. A single tear rolls down his cheek but he hurriedly wipes it before you can notice.

„Shut up.” The boy responds angrily and kisses you breathless. 

Other boys:

Albedo

Diluc

Kaeya

Childe

Zhongli

Kazuha

[yoonpobs]

bad boy good thing | drabble i. | m

WARNINGS. jealous jk, jk's gf is hot and he's not the only one who thinks that, jimin and tae as instigators, i swear jimin and jk love each other, fucking in public spaces aka a car in a parking lot, jk luvs his gf, appearance of perpetrator jin!

NOTE. i missed this couple 🥺oc is living her hot girl summer life and jk does nawt know how to deal with it Lol. hope u enjoy loves!!!!

WORDS. 3k+

“I’m okay,” Jungkook murmurs, eyes fluttering shut as he repeats his own personal mantra. “I’m good. I’m fine—I’m chill. Chillest person ever. I’m good—”

“He’s not okay,” Taehyung snickers.

Jungkook blocks the negativity out, purposefully and intentionally. Nothing could ruin his day—not on his watch, especially as the sun shines over bodies across the beach while the waves break into beautiful fragments that he’s yearning to dip his feet into.

Personal affirmations came first.

“I’m good, I’m fine, I’m okay,” he chants like a crazy person, definitely earning some form of side-eye from the people next to him but he can’t be bothered. Another person thinking that he was insane wasn’t the worst thing that could happen to him—not when—

“You should open your eyes,” Jimin says, “How are you going to fight them if you don’t know thy enemy?”

Immediately, Jungkook’s peace is disturbed by the mouth of Park Jimin, who painfully reminds him of why he’s got into the entire personal mantra and affirmation thing. He used to think it was redundant, unnecessary. How could the universe return your wishes just as you’ve uttered them into the atmosphere? It didn’t seem logical to him.

But right now, that didn’t matter—not when he had bigger things to be worried about.

“Don’t disturb my peace,” Jungkook snaps.

“They did it first,” Jimin retorts, cocking his head towards the flock of people at a certain part of the beach, specifically towards where the water meets the shore.

Jungkook’s eye twitches. His peace is disrupted, his happiness is compromised and it’s all Park Jimin’s fault. He spent a good amount of time getting into his zone, reaffirming himself that he was in fact, fine, good—he was okay! But now, he feels all his resolve dissolve when he realises he can’t even see the main thing that was responsible for his dilemmas.

“You’d think a celebrity was on this beach,” Taehyung snorts.

“Not helping,” Jungkook says dryly.

“So isn’t your crazy person chanting,” Jimin points out, “but yet, here we are—listening to you reciting your own version of a biblical verse.”

“I’m fine,” Jungkook grits for the umpteenth time, and no less is his assertions any more convincing than it was a moment ago. The flicker of his irises towards to crowd is enough to prove that fact. “I’m just enjoying my day at the beach with my friends and my girlfriend.”

“See, there are two false statements in that,” Taehyung tilts his head downwards, offering a smug smirk that Jungkook wishes he could shove into the sand beneath him. “You’re definitely not enjoying this because I can see the veins protruding out of your neck at how hard you’re clenching your jaw, and”—the older boy makes the effort to taunt Jungkook further by letting out a low whistle the moment the crowd seems to grow slightly bigger—“you’re partially right about the friend part. Your girlfriend though … where is she?”

I’m good. I’m okay. I’m cool—

“Oblivious, as usual,” Jimin sighs, plopping back onto the beach towel beneath him while shooting Jungkook a pointed stare. “It’d be sad if you only called her your girlfriend for six months when you’ve been in love with her for seven years.”

“Okay that’s it. I’m going there,” Jungkook declares, huffing as he pushes himself off the ground while Jimin makes an effort to grab at his ankle, halting the younger boy from causing any damage and potentially getting them banned from ever returning.

“Not with that temper you aren’t,” Jimin snaps, “Sit your ass down. God. Can’t you take a joke?”

“A joke?” Jungkook splutters, abhorred. “You literally just said she’s going to break up with me!”

“I said that it’d be sad if—”

“Same fucking difference,” he hisses, rubbing a hand across his face before he kicks Jimin’s petty grip off his ankle while levelling him with a menacing glare. Jungkook’s eyes slowly drift to the side where you finally enter his vision, still smiling like the soft and sweet person you were as you help Namjoon with whatever crab hunting mission he had.

See, Jungkook’s mature enough to know that you and Namjoon were good friends, great ones, even. The two of you were smart and clicked well, and if anything, Jungkook was more envious of the fact that the two of you shared such a wholesome and meaningful friendship than anything else.

The fact that Namjoon used to have feelings for you didn’t bother Jungkook anymore, not when he knew where your heart truly laid. He also trusted Namjoon with his entire life and his firstborns (not that he’d ever tell you that, and God—did he hope that day would eventually come when it came to you). But still, Jungkook was mature—he did some growing up, and he was proud of that.

But Jungkook’s human, a flawed, ever-learning and constantly improving human. A human who’s crazy in love with his pretty girlfriend that he’s longed for years—and a human who isn’t blind. A human who can’t ignore the fact that, apparently, he wasn’t the only person that was trying to keep himself in check at how stunning you were. Every day—and especially today, with how your dainty yellow bikini drapes over the curves of your body.

Jungkook nearly cries. Yellow was his favourite colour. You wore it for him.

Not for—

“Maybe you should head over,” Taehyung murmurs, snapping Jungkook out of his love-filled mind as his eyes clear, immediately catching what his friend was referring to.

Some dude. Talking to you. Smiling at you like you carried all the answers to all the world problems as you giggle a tune comparable to birds chirping. Maybe Jungkook was exaggerating but it always sounded like you were singing his favourite song even if you were just explaining economical concepts to him like a soothing e-book.

“God, why couldn’t she have been ugly,” Jungkook groans.

“You wouldn’t have dated her otherwise,” Jimin retorts.

Jungkook gawks, affronted as he gives his two friends a scandalised expression as he places his hands over his chest to indicate the offence he took to that statement.

“I’m not superficial,” he huffs, “I fell in love with her because of her—”

“Personality, yada yada,” Jimin mocks him in a lower tune that has Jungkook glaring at him. “Yeah, okay. But don’t tell me that her being pretty doesn’t help you bust a nut every once in a while.”

Jungkook flushes.

“Well, yeah, but I’m her boyfriend—”

“Thank you for reminding me that you are in fact, still a boy,” Jimin rolls his eyes, “Men. Mansplaining everything, really.”

Jungkook’s jaw slackens as his eyes briefly land on Taehyung’s figure who doesn’t look too bothered with how the conversation turned out as he shrugs in response.

“How about you do the typical manly thing of being a jealous prick and go over there and stomp over all her fan club members,” Jimin says sarcastically, resting his arm over his eyes to shield them from the sun.

There’s a brief rustle from where the sand meets the towel, and a relatively long period of silence while the only thing that permeates the air is the sound of waves with laughter coming from a family a distance away.

“He did exactly that, didn’t he.”

“You need to stop giving him ideas,” Taehyung sighs, plopping a grape into his mouth before occupying the space next to his friend. “Should we find another beach to frequent?”

“Really?” you laugh, “That’s so cool! I’m actually planning on landing an apprenticeship there over the summer.”

“Oh?” The man is leaning way too close to you for comfort, but you’re unfazed. Jungkook doesn’t even want to know where the hell Namjoon had gone, leaving you with this broad-shouldered, terrifyingly handsome man. “I could definitely put a good word in for you if you’d like.”

You beam, appreciative rather than brazen. But Jungkook thinks the man doesn’t know that.

“I don’t think I can accept that, Seokjin.”

And of course, you knew his name.

“Why not?” Seokjin smirks, and Jungkook knows that it’s definitely done him justice in other situations. “For a beautiful—”

“____,” he interjects, smoothly (or not quite) sliding next to you as his arms wrap around your waist before his glare rests on the man before him, who looks both shocked and unbothered at his appearance. “Who’s this?”

You jump slightly at Jungkook’s arrival but relax when you realise that it was just him and not some other beach weirdo.

“Jungkook, this is Seokjin! He actually attended our university—”

“Really,” he says dryly, “That’s nice.”

“Is this your …?” Seokjin looks Jungkook up and down before settling with a rather unimpressed look. “Do seniors usually bring their shadows out for playdates?”

Your eyes widen at his patronising tone, and before can even think to correct him with a tilted frown, Jungkook’s fingers dig into your waist, a precursor to his jaw that clenches while he engages in his own version of a staredown with the man before you.

“Boyfriend.”

Seokjin raises a brow.

“Me,” Jungkook blinks, unnerved and quite frankly, tired. He’s crossed this bridge enough times, and it’s always the same. Some older dude who thought that you were doing charity work by having Jungkook tag along with like some puny little brother. “I’m her boyfriend.”

“Jungkook—” you start, softly reaching to grip his arm.

“Interesting,” Seokjin says offhandedly and Jungkook knows it’s anything but. “Well, my offer still stands.”

He’s directing it to you as you peer up at him with your notoriously innocent eyes. Jungkook hates that this douche is still unaffected by his blatant declaration of the fact that you were—taken.

“I—that’s fine, Seokjin,” you say softly, lips curling into a thankful smile before he nods.

The look he sends Jungkook is nothing short of unimpressed, and Jungkook’s thinking of clamming the dude into the sand and quite literally, bury the hatchet with him. Sure, he was handsome and broad, and undoubtedly ripped—but Jungkook trained to benchpress twice his weight so he could beat up assholes who tried to hit on his girlfriend.

Right before he leaves, Jungkook calls for his name—intentionally calling him Seokmin—noting the way his face drops into a scowl.

“You’re not her type.”

He scoffs.

“And you are?” he throws back, brows raised as a challenge.

“That’s why I get to hold her and you’re walking away.”

With that, Seokjin doesn’t bother responding to Jungkook, especially in the way that you gawk at your boyfriend’s blatant warning to the older man.

He titters off, and it’s effectively just you and Jungkook standing by the shore while you briefly see the way Namjoon stutters before deciding to return to where Jimin and Taehyung lays.

Jungkook’s still seething in his rage, clenching and unclenching his fists even though he got the last word. It wasn’t that he thought you’d elope with Seokjin and leave him—he trusted you wholeheartedly and vice versa. He knew you loved him and so did he.

It had more to do with the fact that Seokjin saw you, and eventually, him—and thought that Jungkook wasn’t fit to be your boyfriend. That he saw a gorgeous girl on the beach and expected her to be single, and if not—to be with a boyfriend that had his shit together and not … not Jungkook.

“Jungkook?” you say quietly, tugging at his elbow while you peer up at him with wide and apologetic eyes. “I’m sorry.”

It’s no good, the fact that you’re apologising. As if you were responsible for his insecurities when you’ve done nothing but shower him with love and support ever since the two of you started officially dating.

“Don’t apologise,” he says stiffly, though his heart isn’t angry—he can’t help the way his words get out. “It’s not your fault.”

“But—”

“If you apologise then you’re gonna piss me off, baby,” he says lightly, peering you down with a small smirk as your eyes widen.

“I—okay,” you say weakly, and before he knows it, you’re intertwining your fingers with his, eyes suddenly twinkling in a way he’s grown all too familiar with.

“You have the keys?” he murmurs softly.

You nod, blind and in love as you sigh.

“Take care of me?” you ask sweetly, and Jungkook forgets all about Seokjin when he has you right in front of him.

“O-Oh, fuck—Jungkook—ngh—”

Maybe Jungkook really was a crazy person, but he’d argue that you were equally as crazy to oblige to indulge in his lewd fantasies. He was crazy, for you and your cunt that was like nirvana, and it’s proven further when he fucks into you at a brutal pace, uncaring whether or not the car shakes with the exertion of the activities that were taking place in it.

It could be the fact that he had a decade worth of fantasies to play out, but he knows that he plays a huge part in opening your sexual nature and he couldn’t be happier about it, especially when you unabashedly throw your head onto your chest, whimpering with the dirty squelches of his thrusts that echo in the vehicle.

“You’re mine, aren’t you?” he growls, hand wrapping around the back of your neck to force your glassy eyes to look at him.

The look on your face is enough to get Jungkook even more riled up, your flushed cheeks and swollen lips while you nod your head manically, crazy—and his.

“Y-Yours,” you whimper, and just about then, Jungkook brings your hips down with his free hand and meets you with a sharp thrust that has your mouth dropping open and your face scrunched up in pleasure. “F-Fuck, J-Jungkook.”

“No one gets to fuck you like this,” he hisses, pressing a hot kiss to your neck as you whine, hips involuntarily swivelling to meet his fast pace. The car is shaking and it’s all too risky, Jungkook knows that—but his rationale is clouded with the antagonising face of Seokjin. “No one gets to see you like this. Only I do.”

“Y-Yes!” you sob, clutching onto him as he feels your pussy tighten viciously around him, the walls of your inner linings spasming as Jungkook hisses at the feeling. “Only you K-Kook. Only ever want you.”

Jungkook believes you, especially when you desperately hold onto him as he feels himself slowly reach the edge. He knows you are too, especially when your whines get higher in pitch, and your tugs against his shoulders get tighter. He knows because he’s learnt about your body as your boyfriend—and he’s the only person that will ever get to have you like this.

The thought, paired along with the risk of your situation only fuels his determination to get you off, his strong arms immediately wrapping around you to root you into place as he shoves his cock deeper into you.

“Come on, pretty girl,” he croons as you mewl in pleasure, breathless whines turning more desperate as your eyes flutter shut. “You wanna show me how much you want me?”

You nod manically, your pussy fluttering around his length as he grunts in exertion.

“G-Gonna—pleasedon’tstop—fuck, I-I’m cumming—!” you cry, tugging your face into the crook of his neck as Jungkook bites his lips in focus, all ready to accept your hot pleasure and his own.

“Come for me,” he encourages, lips hovering over your earlobe as you obey his orders, head thrown back as he watches your mouth drop wider and your eyes roll to the back of your head, pussy tightening around his length.

Jungkook thinks you’re beautiful. On days where you don’t feel like you do, but he may be biased to say that he thinks you look absolutely stunning for him like this. When he knows that he’s the one responsible for your reddened cheeks, the way you so desperately cling onto him whenever you’d orgasm (the only person that would ever know this fact about you), and the way that you’re left breathless, satiated and with that hazed expression after his resolute efforts.

Jungkook cums shortly after, with those exact thoughts plaguing his mind. He was so whipped. He really only had to think of you and he would get hard, and having you right above him, soft and warm with your arms draped loosely over his form made his heart all mushy and soft despite the way his cock stands erect.

You mewl in oversensitivity although you don’t complain. You never do, whenever Jungkook cums after you. Even now, when Jungkook comes down from his high with pants of his own, his own mind-clearing while his cock softens in you—you remain patient. Patient like the ever-loving, wonderful girlfriend that you were—one that Jungkook wasn’t sure he deserved.

“Wow,” you giggle, forehead resting against his as you return from your own post-orgasmic bliss. “I can’t believe I let you fuck me in a parking lot.”

Jungkook flushes, reality sinking in when he realised that the two of you weren’t hidden from plain sight. While the idea of being caught was definitely arousing, Jungkook knew he wasn’t too keen on having anyone see you delirious, even if it was all for him. He was lucky enough that your bikini top remained on the entire time, but both your sweaty bodies were enough of a dead giveaway.

“I just,” Jungkook tries to explain, words slurring in embarrassment as you raise a brow at him. “You look really pretty today.”

You stare at his forlorn expression as if admitting that pained him. Jungkook feels slightly embarrassed at how he reacted, and if you notice this, you don’t point it out—yet.

“Wore this for you,” you murmur, pressing a soft kiss to the mole under his lip. Jungkook’s heart soars at your admission even if he knew that. “You know it’s only for you, right?”

Your question is purposeful and Jungkook shamefully looks to his lap, and even then—you’re still connected. He slowly pulls out, wincing when his cum threatens to pool out of your pussy, but before he can pretend to clean you up, you’re putting your bikini bottoms back in place and clamping your hands over his cheeks so that he’d look at you.

“Jungkook,” you say sternly.

He sighs.

“Yes,” he groans, feeling a lot like a child who’s being berated. “I just—God. He was such a prick.”

“I know,” you say gently, fingers combing through his hair while he melts into your touch. “There are a lot of pricks out there, but you know that I only love you, right?”

Your confession is the same as the one you’ve made six months ago, and just last night before the two of you fell asleep—but it’s a confession that Jungkook never grows tired of.

“I know,” he mumbles as you giggle at him. “It’s just that … he really thought he had a chance with you, and when he saw me it was like—”

You frown, finger pressed against his lips to stop his rambling as he peers up at you with doe-eyes.

“None of that,” you chide lightly, “I don’t care what people think. The only person I care about is you, and no one will change that, okay?”

Jungkook feels himself relax into your touch, especially when you lean forward to capture his lips in a soft kiss that isn’t set to lead anywhere. He remembers. He remembers the times where you were unsure and all too worried of the words of others—and here you were, with him and with your gentle and loving soul, the embodiment of comfort as you tell him the words he’s always known but needs to be reminded of.

“I love you,” he says quietly as you grin widely at him, “Sorry for—you know.”

You roll your eyes, lifting your leg to get off his lap as you wince at the cum that threatens to escape your lips.

“I mean, it was kind of hot,” you shrug with a small smirk.

“God, I’ve created a monster,” Jungkook snorts, looking over at you when you shoot him a devious grin.

“You love it,” you throw back cheekily, leaning into his shoulder as he wraps an arm around you with a sigh.

He does. And he knows that he’s the only one that you’ll love back.

[bokutoslittlebird]

miya twins and their 19 year old virgin little sister, samu probably caught you trying to fuck yourself and let your dildo be your first since a lot of your friends are teasing you for being a virgin and then atsumu caught you red handed, watching porn. and what would happen if one of them got you preggo? too horny to even think about anything, sorry birdie-san ㅠㅡㅠ

DIVINE. DELICIOUS. you know that audio with the cats? That was me when I read this

Warnings : pregnancy, cunnilingus, f. masturbation, porn video (briefly), a pink dildo, dubcon, incest, manipulation

It’s your nineteenth birthday and while you had a wonderful party with your family, you still feel so young and small. Your brothers are both attending colleges for their own career paths, but you’ve just got out of high school and have no idea what you want to do! You’ve been babied by your brothers, so you don’t have a clear view of the future for yourself that doesn’t include Atsumu and Osamu by your side.

One thing bothered you though: you were still a virgin. Thanks to your brothers, boyfriends were a foreign concept to you. All your friends lost their virginities before their birthdays, but your last friend lost her virginity on her birthday, a present from her boyfriend. You were slow to coming to the party and you told them you’d have lost it by the time your birthday came around, even getting a boyfriend!

A boyfriend quickly discarded by the brooding brothers of yours. A sneer from Atsumu and a glare from Osamu had his tail between his legs. Truly, a shame. You knew your friends would tease you again for the lack of a boy in your life, so you decided to, uh, pretend. A dildo was similar to a penis, right? That’s why they existed.

You didn’t know it’d be so hard! You have to have an orgasm to properly lose your virginity, that’s what your friends said. Pumping the silicone piece into your tiny cunt was harder than expected, only fitting half in before you started to pump it. It sent a tingling down in your tummy, but it was more effort than expected. Noises or frustration mingled with your forced moans, whining as your wrists started to hurt.

Osamu was doing his homework when he heard you make a noise of frustration, huffing and puffing. He didn’t pay too much attention to it, but then you made a similar noise. So, time to investigate. He wouldn’t want you to exert so much energy, you’re his baby sister! He expected to see you trying to get something off a high shelf, your shirt riding up to show your smooth stomach or you to be under your bed, shorts-clad— even better, panty-clad rump in the air. He did not expect to see you on your bed, legs spread and pumping a pink silicone dildo into your cunt. If only that was his—

“‘Tsu- ‘Tsumu,” you moan out, biting on your lower lip. Osamu’s mouth drops into a frown, growling at his twin’s name dropping from your mouth. You turn to look at the door, suddenly opened only to be slammed shut.

A startled gasp makes him stop in front of you, eyes burning with an unknown desire. “‘Samu! What’re you doing?” He just looks at you, eyes glancing at your hand still between your legs. Your eyes go down, shame burning in your face. “I’m trying to be a big girl. I wanna lose my virginity,”

“Why didn’t ya ask me?” He asks, putting his weight on your bed. You panic and close your legs, moving the dildo out of you. “And why ya callin’ out ‘Tsumu’s name? Huh? Am I not good enough?”

“N-No! That’s not it! ‘Samu, you’re scaring me!” You cry out, his large hands spreading your legs. Your puffy pussy is fully on display for him, his eyes noticing the lack of slick. “Don’t hurt me!”

“I’m not gonna hurt ya. I’m gonna help. Wanna be a big girl? I can help,” he says. He doesn’t move, though, waiting for your permission. Even though you’re hesitant — he’s your brother! You’re nodding your head, fingers soon finding themselves in Osamu’s darkened hair. He stopped dying it, so it’s completely natural again. His face is buried in your cunt, lapping at your folds as your moans aren’t forced, head thrown back as Osamu tongue fucks you. When he sticks two fingers into you, he doesn’t expect you to be so wet, a drastic difference from moments ago. He moves to wrap his lips around your clit, walls tightening as you finally release on his fingers and face.

When Osamu comes up, he’s licking his lips while you pant. “Did.. did I lose my virginity?” You ask him, tears clinging to your lashes.

“What d’ya mean?” You explain what your friends told you, all while he strips off his shirt and peppers kisses on your stomach, rising your shirt up as he does. “Nah, I gotta cum inside if you wanna lose it. You gonna let me do that?” The no hesitation in the nodding of your head has him grinning, straightening himself as he rubs his hardened cock through his pants. Today, fantasy becomes reality. “Alright, I’ll go slow,”

Even with his slow sinking into you, you’re gasping and clinging to his biceps for dear life, tears staining your pillow as he splits you open. He’s far bigger than the dildo, but the slick from your orgasm makes it much easier for him to slide in. He kisses your cheek, telling you how good you are. It’s the little praise that has you encouraging him to keep going, and he does. He keeps pushing in until he’s bumping against your cervix, almost completely inside of you. Your legs tighten around his waist, keeping him locked against you.

“Don’t worry, lil sis. I’m not goin’ anywhere,” he shushes, brushing your tears as he stays still. An occasional hiccup has his heart hurting, but he knows you’ll feel good eventually. Well, even if you don’t, he’ll start. When your legs loosen, dropping back to the plush bed, he starts moving. He’s still slow, spreading your walls for his thick cock as you continue to adjust. It’s not until you’re begging him for more does he pick up the pace, slamming his hips against yours. He has to cover your mouth so you don’t alert the whole house he’s fucking you, your screams of pleasure coming out. They’re muffled, but he can hear how much you’re enjoying it. It urges him to go even faster, grunting as he chases his own high.

Another screams rips from you, walls tightening as you cream on his fat cock, eyes rolling as toes curl. It’s enough to send Osamu over the edge, groaning as he buries himself even deeper inside, pumping you full of his cum, you milking every drop. He kisses you, your panting mouth perfect for him to give you a passionate kiss, staying deep inside you. He breaks the kiss, “I love ya, little sis,”

“Love you, too, nii-san,” you smile, kissing him again.

It’s all you ever wanted, to be a big girl. It also brings you and Osamu closer together, you often bouncing around the idea to help him in his shop once he gets it set up. When you go into his room, the door locking behind you, you miss the way Atsumu glares. He has a feeling you’re not studying with Osamu, but there’s nothing to suggest otherwise.

Well, when Osamu is late from coming back from college, Atsumu is the only one home. It’s a small breath of fresh air, relaxing his tired muscles after a long practice match. When he hears small grunts and moans from your bedroom, he goes to investigate. You shouldn’t be home, let alone have anyone with you. The creaking of the floorboards doesn’t stop the noises from your room, Atsumu’s curiosity spiking. Peeking into your open door, he sees you on your back, legs spread open as your laptop plays an obscene video, the moans and grunts coming from the speakers. Your occasional moan is muffled by the shirt hem in your mouth, but it’s dropped when you moan out Osamu’s name, eyes rolling back as your fingers work on your clit.

Atsumu glares at the mention of Osamu’s name, shutting the door that has you jumping and struggling to explain yourself. “Ya think ‘Samu’s better than me? Is that it?” They’re so similar, it’s striking. The hungry eyes, full of anger and lust, they look so much like Osamu’s, but the light blond hair reminds you it’s Atsumu. “What’re you- Yer watchin’ sibling porn? Thinking of your big brother? ‘S that it?”

“No, it’s not what you think, ‘Tsumu!” Unlike Osamu, Atsumu’s one to take what he wants. He moves the laptop off the bed, spreading your legs as you squirm and struggle. “Lemme go!”

“Brats like you need to be put in place, don’t’cha know? You’re fucking soaked, getting off on your big bro that much?” You’re crying and still trying to kick him off, but it just turns him on even more. You’re still innocent and so naive in his eyes, it’s nothing for him to just take that from you. His cock is already hard, begging to sink into your warm depths. “You gonna let me fuck you? It’ll be like that video you were watching,”

You’re shaking your head, pushing at his chest as he leans down to press kisses to your neck. “C’mon, lil sis. I’m not gonna hurt ya. You trust me, right?” It’s a question that has your movements stopping, glossy eyes looking at Atsumu. He’s smiling, your big brother not showing any hint of malice. You sniffle, his thumbs swiping away the silver droplets on your cheeks.

“As long as you promise not to hurt me, okay ‘Tsumu?” You ask him, big doe eyes of innocence as you look at him. He grins and kisses your lips, licking your bottom lip. A whispered breath of ‘wouldn’t dream of it’ is all you hear before his mushroom head is pushing at your entrance. He’s just as big as Osamu, but it’s still hard to take in. You’re nice and slick, though, Atsumu notes. All from watching some incest porn, it’s almost funny to him how all you had to do was ask, no reason to hide it! Him and Osamu have been dreaming of keeping you all to themselves, there’s no reason for you to hide your desires.

Once he’s bottomed out, he doesn’t let you adjust, immediately pulling out to thrust back in. It’s sharp and rough, knocking the air from your lungs as your head gets thrown back. Atsumu’s quick to attach his lips to your neck, sucking the flesh and digging his teeth into the skin. It’s a way to show he’s claimed you, as if he doesn’t plan on coming inside. That’s his goal — mark you inside and out. With your arms above your head, grasping the pillows, there’s no reason for him to not. Licking his thumb, he presses it to your clit and flicks it, sending shockwaves through you as you scream and cream around his cock, thighs tightening around him. He’s not too far behind you, rutting against you as he paints your insides white, sending you into another orgasm, juices spraying against his abdomen.

“Lookie there! You just squirted all over me,” he chuckles, rubbing your shaking thighs. You’re overstimulated, so he doesn’t push another round. There’ll be time for that later.

A week later, you find yourself in a dilemma when your clothes won’t fit. Worried about gaining weight, you confide in your big brothers who give you a test. “Just pee on it. It’ll tell you if you’re overeating,” they said. They’ve never lied to you before! When those two lines pop up on the plastic tool, you show it to them, confused. They tell you you’re pregnant, but then comes the question. Who’s the dad? Really, does it matter? They have a lot of love to give you and they’re twins. Your child is gonna look like both of them no matter what.

[akirakurusuimagines]

had the idea of reader getting marin karin'd and it not wearing off after leaving the metaverse so our dear boy helps her out by gently overstimulating her in front of a mirror 👉👈

I'm sorry for how long it's been taking to get this out! Hopefully the others won't take as long. Please enjoy! (minors DNI)

It only takes one mistake for everything to fall apart.

Akira believed they were sufficiently prepared to waltz right into Mementos and explore the depths that opened after the public’s response to their latest and greatest heist. He disregarded Morgana’s incessant warning that he was running low on ailment-curing items and revival items, reminding the cat that he was already planning on putting him and Makoto on the front lines this time so there was nothing to worry about.

So really, this mess was his fault. As leader, he knows he shoulders the responsibility of anything and everything that happens, even if his teammates don’t blame him.

It began to storm back in the real world as they reached the end of the current depths⁠; a painstakingly slow thirteen floors⁠ to comb through in search of treasure and experience. Everyone was nearing their physical and mental limits for the day, but at the sight of a rare challenger on their way back, they let their youthful recklessness seep through. One more, they all thought, one more to end the trip on a high note.

The high note they sought after quickly⁠ and almost comically⁠ became shrill.

The battle turned for the worst: unable to find a weakness, you and Mona were left with minimal SP, Queen had suffered an ill-timed critical attack and was knocked out cold, and Joker himself was running on fumes. Mind scattered in desperation, Joker attempted to regain some footing by attacking the particularly strong enemy with Marin Karin, hoping to charm it.

He didn’t expect that the enemy would end up reflecting it back at him.

Nor that you would take the brunt of the attack by jumping in front of him last-minute.

Joker and Mona finished the battle through sheer dumb luck, and all of the thieves expected things to return to normal. Queen stood up on shaky legs and thanked Panther for medicine, but when they turned to look at you, their hearts dropped.

Your face was flushed and eyes glassy, no different than how you were in battle. The unspoken rules of Mementos was broken⁠—somehow you didn’t come to once the fight finished.

Joker took to your side immediately, helping you up but freezing at the garbled moan that slipped past your lips the moment his hands landed on you. The others looked on with concern and fear, not understanding why this was happening, but it was obvious to everyone that they needed to leave immediately. He apologized to them and announced that he’ll be taking you home to make sure you’re safe and resting while the others research the strange divergence.

His arm wrapped loosely around your waist, keeping you steady as you mindlessly clung to him, and ushered you out of Mementos and towards the trains.

Akira felt like he was suffocating. If this is how he was feeling, he could only start to imagine what you’re suffering through right now.

He kept you hidden from view as best as he could, squished in the corner between the door, the seats, and him. Akira put you in a spare face mask he had and slid his glasses over your nose, hoping to protect your identity in case any snooping individual lingered on you two a little too long.

“Hold on just a little longer for me, okay? We’re almost there.”

He watched your knees buckle and your thighs clench together at his words and felt his mouth run dry. Akira willed himself to stay calm, to steady his heartbeat, but it wasn’t exactly an easy thing to do when you were in a state like this. Especially considering he harbored feelings for you.

“Please,” you begged. He almost didn’t hear it with how quietly you murmured it. “Akira, I… I need…”

Fuck, you were going to be the death of him.

“Yeah?” he leaned in closer, hoping to catch the rest of what you’re saying.

Your hand grabbed his thigh, tugging his leg closer to you and causing him to stumble forward, balancing with his forearm next to your head. He stared at you with wide eyes as you shifted his leg with no resistance between your thighs and sat on it, slowly and carefully grinding against it.

Akira’s head whipped around, making sure no one was watching as you shamelessly used his leg to relieve some of the pressure that Marin Karin’s charm had on you. He nearly stopped breathing when you whined right next to his ear, a sound too soft for anyone else to notice as the train screeched to another halt.

Your stop was next, but there was no way he was making it out of this without a boner. He looked back at you and swallowed hard, only able to see the way your eyes were screwed shut and eyebrows knitted with frustration and concentration, pressing yourself a little harder against the meat of his thigh.

“Need more, ‘s too hot,” you blabbered softly, hands gripping the lapel of his blazer. “want you, want you so bad⁠—”

“We⁠—we’re almost home,” Akira choked out, each passing moment more difficult than the last. He wanted to pinch himself, wondering if this was actually some wild porno dream he was having back in Leblanc, but the way you felt rutting against his thigh like this was far too real for him to deny this was reality.

“Akiraaaa...”

He nearly lost himself when he saw your teary-eyed expression, suddenly grateful for the crowded train dissuading him from bending you over the train seats and giving into temptation. Akira wanted to know every part of you: every touch that makes you keen, every kiss that makes your head spin, every position that makes you cream.

Akira almost praised the gods aloud when the announcer comments on your stop, pulling himself off of you despite your whines and taking your hand in his, squeezing it tightly as he nearly runs out of the train the second the doors behind you open.

It was quite the ordeal dragging you back home. Every moment he stopped, your hands would wander, gripping his shirt or his belt loops, sliding your hand underneath to feel the warmth of his skin. You pressed closer and closer against him, your inhibitions far-gone, leaving only your charmed mind.

He grabbed your wrist firmly when you reached for his crotch at the door to your house, sucking in a large breath and hoping you’d be able to contain yourself enough for him to open the door with your keys and lead you inside.

Akira pushed open the door and dragged you inside, kicking it closed and locking it quickly. He couldn’t help the whole-body sigh that passed through him with the relief of privacy.

You, however, took it as your cue to tackle him to the ground and relieve yourself.

“Shit, wait, hold on⁠—” Akira staggered back, gripping your hip and arm and barley catching himself. “Are you sure you want to do this? You don’t want to try to get… uh… get off on your own?”

“No no no no no⁠—!” you shook your head adamantly despite your slurred voice, the sheer panic in your voice and face surprising him. “Want you, only you, please.”

Akira pressed his lips together in a tight line and hoisted you up in his arms, silently thanking the rough training he’s been enduring with Ryuji. The way your eyes lit up as he carried you to your bedroom made his heart palpitate, the rational side of him quickly losing to the promise of passion.

He really was weak to you.

He grunted as his legs hit the bed, falling down with you on his lap. Akira barely had time to speak before your lips were all over him, kissing all over his face and jaw as you roughly grinded against him. He choked down his moans and tangled a hand in your hair, hoping to slow you down with a sharp tug to your scalp.

Akira felt you seize up the moment he did, nails digging into his shoulders despite the layers of clothing, pressing your hips harder against his, and with a loud cry, he felt dampness against his crotch. It took a moment to process that you came untouched, just from him having you in his lap and tugging your hair.

“Did you just…?” his hand wandered towards your pants, slipping inside your underwear and feeling the sticky substance coat his fingers as he reached your thighs. He pulled them out, observing the strands between his fingers and licking them clean with a low groan. “That’s so hot. You’re so fucking hot.”

Akira palmed your crotch and felt you shudder as you rolled your hips against his again. “But… it isn’t enough, right?”

“Nnno…”

He looked around the room briefly and caught his own eyes in the floor-length mirror in your room.

“Stand up for me and strip, sweetheart,” Akira instructed with a gentle slap to your thigh.

He loved the way you scrambled off of him, shedding your clothes and looking at him with the same hazy doe-eyes that made him spend countless private hours fantasizing about. You looked at him with so much lust, being so obedient for him in hopes of getting another orgasm.

He shrugged off his blazer and tossed it aside, shifting closer to the mirror until it stood in front of him. “Turn around and sit back on my lap.”

Akira steadied you with gentle hands on your hips as you sat on his lap and pressed your sticky thighs together to feel some kind of friction against the torturous heat. He pried them open, spreading your legs to straddle him and spreading you open for the mirror.

“Ah, ah, ah,” he gently chided, “keep these pretty thighs open for me, okay?”

Akira refused to touch you until you nodded.

“Perfect,” he whispered, resting his chin on your shoulder, “you’re absolutely perfect.” Akira guided his hands up from your thighs to your chest, brushing against your nipples and continuing his path up until he reached your face. He cupped your cheeks in his hands and tilted your face up, forcing you to look at the shameful display you created with him. “I want you to look at yourself as I touch you,” Akira explained, “I want you to see everything.”

You nodded dumbly, anything to get his hands back to pleasuring you. “Please,” you continued to repeat with breathless whines, “I want more, I want you in me.” You pushed your ass harder against his hard cock, hoping he would take the bait. You wanted to be fucked silly and at this point you really didn’t care how you got there.

Akira sucked in a sharp breath and shuddered, squeezing his eyes shut and stilling for a few seconds as you continued to grind yourself on his dick. “Later, okay?” his voice wavered and he wasn’t sure he’d be able to keep his own word with how enthusiastic you seemed about riding him.

He let go of your face and skimmed your inner thighs, catching the cum from your first orgasm on his fingers and finally touching you properly. You keened, head falling back as he slowly pressed two fingers into your hole. “Yes⁠!” you groaned, spreading your thighs a little further and bucking your hips into his hand, “More, please, oh god it feels so good⁠— hnn!”

Akira’s hand steadied your head, once again pushing you to look at yourself as his fingers thrusted in and out of you. “Come on, baby. Don’t stop watching,” he purred as he scissored his fingers inside of you. “Oh, you liked that?”

You grasped his hair and his wrist, incoherent noises fumbling from your lips as Akira brought you to another orgasm within minutes. Marin Karin had quite the effect on you: keeping your stamina high and your libido higher, giving you more orgasms than you’ve had in your life, emptying your head and leaving nothing but pleasant buzzing.

He stared at you in the mirror, catching your unfocused gaze as your eyes shifted from his face to his hand and back again. “You’re doing so good,” Akira mumbled strings of words he barely paid attention to as you squirmed in his hold. He added another finger, stretching you out further and curling his fingers inside of you. He felt your legs shake and watched your jaw go slack as pleasure only continued to build.

“Again?” he asked, groaning at how you clench around his fingers, barely giving him room to move them. Even still, you continue to thrust your hips into his hands⁠, unsatisfied. “I’ll give you as many orgasms as you need,” Akira promised, kissing your cheek and resting his temple against yours, “I won’t stop until you’re begging.”

[lipstickstainz]

mismatched socks - s. r.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

Request: Spencer's girlfriend (reader, FBI agent too) always wears mismatched socks and when they have their first night together at his apartment he notices, and his brain goes to mush, and falls in love with her even more

Warnings: fluff, some talk about Spencer being insecure Word Count: 2.2k A/N: thanks for the request, love! I really enjoyed writing it! requests are open guys! hope you enjoy. gif not mine.

Spencer had always known he was different. He had always been the smartest in school, which could be attributed to his eidetic memory. He wasn't invited to birthday parties because he liked to tell facts that were funny to him, but that no one else found funny. And he had been rather an oddball in other ways, too.

All his life this fact had made him insecure. He thought of himself as too skinny, too unathletic-especially when he compared himself to Derek, which was pretty stupid, of course-and his hair always lay funny, no matter how hard he tried to tame it. He wore cardigans over shirts-the watch over the cardigan, of course-which was pretty weird, but he wore Converse with them and two different socks every day. He loved magic and physics jokes. Spencer couldn't talk about the latest episode of Greys Anatomy, and he wasn't sure what Team Stefan and Team Damon were. Spencer didn't fit in perfectly anywhere and it had taken him time to accept that. He also never imagined anyone would find in attractive, or even want to be with him.

Until you came along.

On your first day at BAU, he immediately noticed three things about you. First, you walked incredibly fast, actually too fast to just walk from one office to the next. It seemed to her as if you were flying. Second, you tucked your hair behind your ears every few minutes, even when it wasn't falling in your face. He wondered why you didn't use a pin or a scrunchie. But it was a habit that didn't bother him in the least. From the moment he first saw you, he found you irresistibly pretty, and he was glad your hair didn't cover your face. And third, you could write ambidextrously. As the team sat in the conference room and you scribbled something in your case file - also something he noticed, you seemed to prefer paper as much as he did - you reached for your coffee cup with your right hand and continued to write undisturbed with your left, until the entire team looked at you as if you were from another star. It was a look Spencer knew all too well.

He had never met anyone like you.

Spencer liked you from the first moment he saw you. He liked that you took your backpack on both shoulders and that you preferred cocoa to coffee. He liked the way you smiled at him when he brought you one from the office kitchen and set it on your desk. And he liked the way your skin felt on his when you reached under the desk for his hand when you noticed a change in his demeanor. You then squeezed his hand twice. Once for "It's all right" and once for "I'm here, with you."

In your presence, everything seemed as easy as breathing. You listened to him when he blathered on about a subject you didn't understand, because you liked his intelligence and the way he explained things without looking down on others. You even asked when he had to explain something to you, which had surprised him so much the first few times that he had completely forgotten what your conversation was about. He had stared at you and the blush had come to his face. One feature that didn't escape you, but made him even more attractive to you.

When you went to his table one morning and told him that you had seen Star Trek for the first time the previous night, and now wondered how realistic the physics in the movie were, he could hardly stand it. You were beautiful and intelligent and interested in Star Trek? And when you asked him if he could explain something from the movie to you, he was sure his dream girl was standing right in front of him.

"I need your help", he told Derek that very day as they stood together in the kitchen. "How do I ask a girl out?"

Derek nearly choked on his coffee before turning to Spencer. "Since when do you want to date?" He noticed Spencer's gaze, which wasn't on him, but slid past him and lingered on you.You sat at your desk and tucked your hair behind your ears before looking up and over at Spencer's desk.  Derek could see your gaze wander around the office and then linger on Spencer before you smiled and got back to work. With a grin, Derek looked at Spencer. "You're going to ask Y/N out on a date? Oh boy, it's about time you finally do. I already said to Penelope that -"

"Please, Morgan. I just want to know how to ask her out”, Spencer interrupted him, looking at his friend.

Derek's grin gave way to an honest, friendly smile. "Don't make a big deal out of it. Just ask her directly."

"And if she says no?", asked Spencer uncertainly, his mouth twisting into a thin line. He couldn't imagine you going on a date with him, but he couldn't stay in the dark any longer either. He had to at least try.

"She won't”, Derek assured him. The whole team felt that Spencer and you would be perfect for each other, but he didn't tell him that. Spencer should learn to walk before he starts running. "I can see the way she looks at you. And if she does say no, she's not as smart as I thought."

Spencer trusted Derek's words and took it upon himself to ask you out on a date that very day. He had phrased the question countless times in his head, even encouraging himself in the mirror in the men's room, but every time he stood in front of you and looked at your beautiful face, he couldn't get a single word out. They got stuck in his throat and he was so embarrassed that he fled from you several times. By the third time, he had red marks on his neck, which you noticed immediately, and you wondered how you had made him so uncomfortable without having really done anything. When he said nothing again, you put your hand on his forearm.

"Are you okay, Spencer?", you asked, and he just nodded. It's now or never.

"Wouldyougooutwithme?" He almost mumbled, but you had understood him perfectly. "If you don't want to, that's fine, and we'll pretend I never asked. We'll just keep being friends and -"

"Spencer," you interrupted, smiling up at him, "I'd love to go out with you," you replied, and he was able to breathe deeply again. The marks on his neck faded as you tucked your hair behind your ear.

He had done it. Spencer had asked you and you had agreed, but where was he going to take you? Nothing seemed good enough for him. Going out to eat was nice, but you didn't seem like someone who needed to talk the whole time. He thought movie theaters were dumb because you couldn't talk there at all. After two days he had thought of something and he wouldn't have minded if you thought the idea was stupid, but when he presented his idea to you, you smiled at him excitedly.

"I can't wait."

You spent your first date in Spencer's favorite library, surrounded by knowledge and stories. You walked the aisles together, telling stories of books you had read and found to be good, and books you had abandoned because they were so bad you couldn't finish them. As you walked through each aisle, which had actually taken an entire afternoon, Spencer didn't want the date to end. He was going to suggest something else, but you beat him to it.

"There's a couch over there. Shall we sit there? Then you can read me something from your favorite book."

You would be the death of him.

A few weeks later, you had arranged to go for a walk. The weather was nice, not too hot and not too cool, so you strolled hand in hand along the paths. He liked the fact that you worked together but couldn't just talk about the job. You were explaining to him why a certain Matt Donavan from a vampire series was incredibly annoying when someone stopped in front of you.

"Y/N! How nice to see you!", the young woman said, unceremoniously wrapping her arms around you. When she broke away from you, you looked at Spencer.

"Spencer, this is Lisa, my college roommate. Lisa, this is Spencer, my boyfriend”, you explained before you could think about what you had just said. You chatted briefly before going your separate ways again. You noticed a change in Spencer's behavior and feared you had misinterpreted everything. When you couldn't take it anymore, you stopped.

"Look, I'm sorry I called you my boyfriend”, you said, looking down at the ground in shame. "We've never talked about what exactly we are, but it feels like you're my boyfriend and I wish you were, so I -"

"Y/N”, he interrupted you and tenderly reached for your hand. A smile spread across his face. He couldn't believe himself that he would ask you that. "Would you like to be my girlfriend?"

The bar was crowded and the later it got, the more crowded you felt. The team had been in the mood to celebrate after a difficult case, so everyone had gathered in the regular bar. Penelope was putting on some dance moves on the dance floor while Emily and JJ were bawling out the song, which neither Spencer nor you knew. He had his arm around your waist and pulled you tightly to his side, which you enjoyed very much. He didn't fit in here with his shirt and cardigan, but he fit you, you were one hundred percent sure of that.

As you stifled a yawn, he looked down at you. "Shall we go? You seem tired and I'm getting ready to go to bed too”, he suggested and you nodded. Outside, he hailed you a cab and as you got in, you gave the driver Spencer's address.

"We're going to my place?", asked Spencer, looking at you in confusion as you nestled into his side.

"Yeah, I hope that's okay”, you replied, "If it's too soon for you for us to sleep together, then you just have to say so. I won't be mad at you."

How could he be mad at you? You wanted to spend the night with him. You wanted to fall asleep next to him and wake up next to him. He had hit the jackpot.

"Would you like to drink something?", he asked as you sat down on the couch and kicked off your shoes. It wasn't the first time you'd been in his apartment, but you'd never entered his bedroom before and you didn't want to take the step without him. It was still his apartment and his privacy and you respected that.

"Just water, please”, you replied, pulling your legs up so he could sit next to you. He handed you the glass and you took a big gulp.

In your presence, Spencer had never felt like an oddball. You never made him feel like he was different or weird. You didn't laugh at him, you laughed with him, and you had assured him many times how incredibly attractive he was to you, even if he couldn't see it. He wasn't too skinny or too unathletic for you. He dressed askew, but it suited him like a glove and you had imagined more than once what he would look like without clothes. It didn't bother you in the least that he wasn't interested in the technology of today. For you, he was just right. For you, he was perfect.

Even though you often assured him how much you liked him and how happy you were with him, he was still insecure from time to time. But as you sat there together on the couch and you put your legs on his thighs, he was one hundred percent sure that he didn't need to be insecure. On your left foot was a green sock, while on your right dangled an orange sock.

You wore the socks like he did. Two different ones. Had you seen this on him and copied it or had you always worn socks like this? A question that could be answered later. His heart stopped for a second, his brain turned to mush, which is why he couldn't control his following words either. "I think I love you."

Surprised, you looked to him and noticed that his gaze lingered on your socks. "You see my socks and then say you love me? Maybe something isn't going right in that clever head of yours”, you grinned and leaned towards him. Blushes shot up his face. "I love you too, Spencer."

Gently, you placed your lips on his. The kiss was tender, hesitant, but Spencer saw his chance and gently pulled you onto his lap before wrapping his arms around you and holding you close. His heart threatened to overflow with love. As he placed his hands on your butt, you moaned softly into his mouth. He smiled.

In your presence, he didn't feel like he was different.