#eventual polyamory

[beedokwrites]

Scribblehub update for my gender-bending pop star who stumbles their way into a polycule. All with a little help from a literal love deity.

[oopsiedaisiesbaby]

Chapters: 1/? Fandom: Stranger Things (TV 2016) Rating: Explicit Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Jason Carver/Steve Harrington, Billy Hargrove/Steve Harrington, Jason Carver/Eddie Munson, Billy Hargrove/Steve Harrington/Jason Carver/Eddie Munson Characters: Jason Carver, Steve Harrington, Billy Hargrove, Eddie Munson Additional Tags: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Non-Traditional Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Omega/Omega, Polyamory, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Intersex Omegas Summary:

“Let’s just run away together,” Jason decided once he’d caught his breath. “Thelma and Louise style! We can have a hot girl summer.”

[poetry-protest-pornography]

So. I wrote a second chapter.

Thank you LITA fandom for the amazing encouragement and kind words. This wouldn't have gotten written without you ❤️

Preview:

Payu isn't sure exactly when he started noticing.

There was always a general awareness, of course, Sky is Rain's best friend, and he could hardly fail to notice how important they were to each other. Not with how often Rain talked about Sky, or how much they gravitated towards each other when in the same room.

Where Rain was, Sky was rarely farther away than an outstretched arm could reach.

Not much changed when Sky and Prapai got together; now Sky was even more significant to Payu: his boyfriend's best friend, and his own best friend's boyfriend. The four of them did so much together, and it was always fun and comfortable, like so many pieces falling into place. 

But he couldn't help but notice how Sky and Rain were when they were together. They leaned into each other when they spoke, and wrapped themselves around each other when they watched movies together, and Rain deferred to Sky almost the same way that he deferred to Payu; all big, soft eyes and easy submission.

It should've made him angry, probably, but after a lightning quick flash of jealousy, he found that he was… intrigued.

[ceo-of-sloppy-men]

Do Your Worst To Me; 'Til The River's Running Red

Ship: Cullen Rutherford/Lavellan/Raleigh Samson Rating: Explicit (for mature themes, gore, lyrium addiction/withdrawal, injury, Samson's potty mouth, etc.)

A defeated Raleigh Samson is taken prisoner by the Inquisition after the battle in the Arbor Wilds. He wanted to die on the overgrown cobblestone, unfortunately, Cullen Rutherford and Neros Lavellan don't give a flying rat. Samson is determined to make them regret it.

Today is one of those days I ask myself why I do these sorts of things.

[mxanigel]

A lengthy snippet I'm proud of from Chapter 6 of Cut to the Feeling, an Attack on Titan (Shingeki no Kyojin) fanfic. Shion first realizes she's falling in love with Levi in the aftermath of the disastrous 57th Expedition, thus spoilers abound for that arc.

As of Chapter 11, this fic is rated M for canon-typical violence, language, and emotional abuse. New chapters every 1-2 weeks!

-----

Hange tilts Shion’s chin upward, carefully inspecting her face. “You’re injured. You need to get that checked out.”

“It could’ve been worse. Got slashed by a tree branch while staying out of reach of one Titan. Injured my hands climbing brick to evade the other one.”

“On your own. Damn. That’s impressive.”

Desperate feels like a more appropriate word here than impressive. “It took me a long time to handle them. The second was pretty small. And it nearly got me.” She swallows. “I… I almost gave up. Your words saved me. You told me to come back, remember?”

Hange’s jaw drops, and then they hug her again. “I’m so glad you returned.”

“Can you tell me what happened with our mission?”

“We failed,” a male voice interjects.

Shion meets Commander Erwin’s gaze over Hange’s shoulder. “We’re calling it the ‘Female Titan,’ right? It got away?”

“Yes.”

“Did the weapon not work?”

“Oh, it worked. Trapped her perfectly,” Hange says, drawing back from Shion. “But she was too clever for us. Kept hardening her skin to the point that our blades couldn’t cut it. So we couldn’t extract her. But that ability has its limits. We were wearing her down.” They throw their hands upward. “Then she screamed, and that scream summoned Titans to consume her Titan form! The spy herself escaped. And then…” Hange trails off.

What the fuck? It’s too much to absorb all at once. “And then what?”

“She disguised herself as one of us, ambushing Levi’s squad,” Commander Erwin replies.

Despair hollows her chest. “Who… who survived?”

Hange grimaces. “Only Levi. He wasn’t there for the ambush. Afterward, he and Mikasa managed to take Eren back from the Female Titan. But they couldn’t capture or kill her.”

She stumbles backward. How could this happen? She saw the four of them mere hours ago. Petra with her kind smile. Gunther’s careful consideration of those around him. Eld’s quiet demeanor that paired well with his keen observation skills. Even Oluo, as annoying as he was, didn’t deserve to die at the hand of a spy, a person like Eren who could become a Titan.

Today she lost one squadmate, a person she met this morning. Levi handpicked his team and has worked with them, lived with them for far longer. All skilled, all veterans, gone like that. When he was absent. “Where is Levi?”

Commander Erwin stares at her for a few heartbeats before pointing to a wagon about twenty meters away. Without another word or even saluting, Shion sprints in that direction, her own exhaustion be damned. She skids to a halt at the sight of Levi hunched over, woodenly going through the motions of tuning his ODM gear. He stares intently at his equipment, eyebrows drawn together, eyes sunken, mouth flattened into a thin line.

Her heart shatters into pieces. What should she say? What can she say?

Then he looks up. “Shion.” The smallest spark of life flickers into his eyes. “You survived.”

“I… I did.”

“I’m glad.” His voice is barely louder than a whisper, gravelly with the weight of what he’s lost. 

“I’m glad you’re alive, too.” She hangs her head. “I’m… I’m sorry about your squad.”

He flinches. “Soldiers die.”

She instinctively begins to reach for his arm before deciding against the gesture. “And we remember them.”

“Yes… we do.”

The barely-controlled emotion in his tone prevents her from saying anything else. Unable to move away from the crushing silence, she leans against the side of the wagon, desperate to sort her thoughts.

She knows next to nothing of what happened. She still can’t believe they suffered this many casualties. Whoever the spy is must have far better control of their Titan form than Eren does. The one deadly glimpse she caught of the so-called Female Titan was terrifying enough: incredibly agile, quick to adapt to new information, utterly unafraid of Survey Corps soldiers. Perhaps because of the additional tricks at their— at her disposal. Hardening abilities? A scream that affects other Titans? Is that why so many abnormal Titans appeared today? How can a human become a Titan? What makes those Titans different? How much do we still not know about these monsters?!

“I expected you to ask me what I saw.”

Startled, she whips her head toward him. “It sounds like you saw hell. If you want to talk about it, I’ll listen, but I won’t ask.”

“… Thank you.” Levi turns his gear in his hands and then sets it aside. He slowly slides off the wagon, carefully and deliberately placing his weight onto his right leg.

“Are you injured?” she blurts out.

“I’ll heal. In time.”

She won’t ask how his squad died, why he got hurt, but she desperately wishes to know. She longs to offer a hand, but his demeanor screams at her not to. The burden of the words she can’t say squeezes air from her lungs.

His gaze bores into her forehead. “You’re injured, too.”

“It could’ve been worse.”

“Mm.” He glances over his shoulder. “If you haven’t yet seen them, your squad’s keeping watch to our east.”

They aren’t my squad. Except she can’t say that now. Not to him. “Th-Thanks.”

“You sent them ahead without you. They were worried.”

How does he know that? “I should go apologize.”

“Don’t fucking apologize. Your survival will tell them that leaving you behind was the right choice.”

His words may be harsh, but he wouldn’t say them if he didn’t care. Warmth unexpectedly trickles into her heart, a familiar yet jarring emotion when juxtaposed against sorrow and bewilderment and horror. “I’ll go see them,” she promises.

“Good.” It feels like a dismissal.

Without another word, Shion trudges toward her surviving squadmates. Along the way, she realizes the name of the warmth her heart carries. Something it hasn’t held in years. Something she never thought she’d feel again.

This is a particularly shitty moment to fall in love.

[transrevolutions]

ok so. concept. marius is of course head over heels for the beautiful young lady he saw in the jardin du luxembourg. however, this woman, cosette, can't keep her mind off the almost familiar-seeming street girl she sees out the window walking at night. the girl's name is eponine, and she just so happens to be a little in love with her neighbor, the law student by the name of marius pontmercy.

[woennix]

Every thing I see from Guaxinim is flirting he is losing NO time to get the lgbtqsmp experience so proud of him.

I hope he flirts with everyone, no one gets to leave purgatory without his flirting.

Btw I may be a fitpac shipper but he is so funny I approve I hope he flirts with qPac so bad he gets to the QSMP Island and then flirts the fuck outta qFit as well.

[crimeronan]

probably i SHOULDN'T migrate elsewhere if tumblr goes belly-up. i just scrolled thru my dash for 20 minutes and in that short span i could feel myself transform from a mildly tired 27-year-old butch into an active serial killer.

[the-old-witch-writes]

“whole lotta love” (part 1) - 18+ [monster trio x afab!reader]

title: “whole lotta love” (part 1)

fandom: One Piece

pairing(s): monster trio x afab!reader, implied frobin+jinbe, usona x OC

summary: one night, after realizing you’re unable to sleep, you go up to the crow’s nest to tire yourself out with some weight training or something. what you witness there ends up forever changing your life and the dynamic between you and three of your crewmates.

rating: Explicit (mdni)

content warning/tags: group sex, anal sex, oral (male & fem receiving), mlm pairings, polyamory, aspec luffy, reader is touch starved and finds it difficult to sleep alone, no character here is straight, just thought you should know

when franky introduced you to your new bedroom after the construction of the sunny, you couldn’t help but dread it, at first. 

granted, you had known it was coming. you were a new crewmate who came after robin—you had met the strawhats over in mock town, already on the run from your other life—so it was pretty obvious she wasn’t going to move out. nami had been with luffy from the beginning, so she wasn’t going anywhere fast—so when franky mentioned a second bedroom for the girls during his design of the sunny, you knew that it would be for you and whoever else would join along the way. just made sense.

so when you walked inside the room for the first time, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of dread—one that was unwarranted, of course. even two years ago, the room was and still is gorgeous. 

because of its position on the ship, the room's shape was circular. on one side of the room was a curved little bookshelf and a desk for you to work/write in. on the other side was a dresser for your clothes (with a mirror hanging on the wall) and a place for you to hang and maintain your weapons. 

then, right in the center that completed the circular shape—in front of the three windows that peek out at the ocean’s depth, the sway of seaweed and the movement of fish—was the bed. it was huge, so much that it took up space from one end of the first window to the last. atop the mattress was a huge dark purple comforter that could cover probably five of you, and at the top were a series of pillows in black and purple pillow cases so soft looking, you worry they might disappear with the briefest of touches.

and despite everything, you stepped up and sat on the edge of it. even just sitting and running your hands along the comforter, you were ready to absolutely melt into the bed. almost angry about it, your hands clenched around the softness. it’s perfect. 

god, why did it have to be perfect?

“hey, kid. is, uh. everything okay?” franky asked, a bit awkward. nervous, maybe?

(you totally understood. it took you weeks to get used to life here. the last thing you wanted to do was make life for a new crewmate difficult.)

so, with many conflicting emotions twisting your insides, you looked up at him with a smile.

“it’s great, franky! just perfect.”

franky then grinned, and did his usual pose. “super~! let me know if you need anything.”

you nodded and watched him leave you to get used to it all.

and that was that.

==

so looking back, you always knew your issue with sleeping alone would come back to haunt you one day—but this was never how you expected it to go.

first, let’s set the scene:

tonight is one of those nights where you struggle with sleeping alone the most. while robin, jinbe and franky are out on the island, spending the night in a room they rented, nami is spending the night with usopp and a nice girl she picked up from the island, so she likely isn’t going to sneak into your bedroom for you two’s semi-regular sleepovers. chopper is sleeping like the dead, the way he usually does after having warm milk before bed. 

and brook?

uh…actually, you don’t know what he’s doing. you’re kind of afraid to think about it, considering everyone else listed above (except for chopper, the sweet winter child) is—busy. but he’s somewhere. you just don’t know where.

(which is plenty fine, he’s not one of your usual snuggle buddies anyway)

point is, the usual people who usually help lull you to sleep with their company can’t tonight, leaving you to deal.

and on most nights, you usually can deal with sleeping alone, resulting in at least a decent amount of sleep—just not tonight.

you spend some time frowning up at the ceiling of your bedroom. each of the glow in the dark stars are shining brightly and beautifully as always. the rocking of the ocean outside your windows, with the occasional bubbling from a fish swimming by and the muffled sounds of oceanic life your windows are as soothing as ever. your huge bed is soft and warm, with the pillows behind your head feeling like a cloud as always.

but as it turns out, as lovely as your bed and bedroom are, none of it is enough to calm your mind tonight.

so, with a huff of frustration, you kick away the dark purple sheets and get up from the bed. you walk over to your dresser and pull out a pair of shorts and the sports bra you usually wear to work out. then you remove your pajamas.

once you’re dressed, you walk out of the room and head towards the deck. with a few leaps here and there, you manage to make your way up to the crow’s nest. maybe lifting some weights in the gym will help you finally feel tired enough to sleep.

this leads you to the present: you’re standing in the doorway of the crow’s nest, a small towel slung over your shoulder. you are staring at the scene before you with wide eyes, your hand frozen around the doorknob and your heart beating several hundred miles a minute—and you haven’t touched a single weight yet.

they don’t notice you at first.

luffy is still pulling on sanji’s hair from behind, bending the cook’s neck at an angle so he can bite and mouth at the side of his neck and a bit of his shoulder. sanji is staring upward at the ceiling with glossy blue eyes and his back is arched into luffy’s chest, his mouth parted to release strained groans. and right between sanji’s spread legs, his tan hands hooked under pale knees is zoro, relentlessly fucking his cock inside like he intends to make himself and sanji one being. 

oh god, you swallow hard, a raging heat seeping inside your blood and rushing just about everywhere. the pupils in your eyes are dilated, soaking it all in like the greedy little bitches they are. oh GOD.

how long do you stare? honestly, about a minute. to you, though, it might as well be an hour because you see way too much in this small minute of watching three of your crewmates going at it like animals, like monsters.

when it comes to battle, the three of them are a force of nature within their own right. but together like this? they are a mass of sweating muscles and groans and murmurs of pleasure of push and pull and hands upon hands and those smirks.

(mean, you think when you see how the sides of luffy’s grin curl as he wraps his hand around sanji's pretty cock, a hot shiver going down your spine, and then again when you hear how zoro chuckles darkly at the absolutely fucked out expression sanji begins wearing. mean mean mean—)

that’s about the moment when you lose it.

the sound that comes from your mouth is not a scream, exactly. more like a soft squeak that trails off into something like a moan. either way, it’s still enough to make all three men jolt and freeze in place. their eyes go wide as plates and they slowly turn to finally see you standing there.

they stare at you; you stare at them.

suddenly, luffy beams. 

“hey, bunny!” he says, using your usual nickname.

“s-sweetness!" sanji cried, his face a bright red and his eyes frantic as he waves his hands in front of him. “i swear, this isn't what it looks like—”

zoro snorts. “cook, she can clearly see that i'm like balls deep in you—this is absolutely what it looks like,” he adds to you.

an odd giddy feeling bubbles up from your stomach, and you honestly feel like giggling madly because seriously, what the fuck, how is this my life.

instead, this comes out of your mouth instead.

“y-you all realize this is the gym, right?"

once again, in silence, they stare at you.

“…the one w-we're all supposed to use? as a crew? did…did any of you think about that b-before…?” 

they blink. then they look at each other.

“huh, now that you mention it,” zoro says, his brow furrowing as he looks around.

luffy bursts out laughing. “we really didn't, shishishi!”

“kinda takes the romance out of it, actually,” sanji lets out a rather despondent sigh. 

“can't rent a room either, the witch would never give us the extra money…”

“ah? what about the galley?”

“no, you dumbass! not only do i cook there, we eat there!”

“okay, but imagine all the fun stuff we can do with food in there—ow!”

“you just want an excuse to steal from the pantry—!”

as the arguing goes on, you watch them all closely. although their voices raise, there isn't really the heat you usually hear. you watch how luffy laughs at sanji's anger, how his hand gently strokes through blond hair all the while. you look at zoro's bored expression, then how one hand rests on luffy's shoulder while the other is tangled with the fingers of sanji's hand. and you realize, the fighting aside, what ties these men together is undoubtedly love—and that's enough to melt your heart.

this is when you start to get The Idea—the one idea that makes you realize you might have lost the plot entirely—and you press your mouth closed, as if to repress it. is this actually happening? are you doing this?

after all, your crewmates—these three men you love deeply enough to fight for them, die for them—are in love. who are you to stand in the way of love?

fuck it, i'm doing it.

“i mean…you can always use my room.”

once again, all three of them freeze and look at you. they seem to pause a moment, their minds needing to catch up to what you said.

“wait, seriously?!” luffy exclaims first with a wide grin, his cheeks a bit flushed.

“i-i get to finally see my sweetness's bedroom?" sanji says, mostly to himself, his face completely red and eyes full of that adoration he always directs to you and women in general. a bit of blood begins dripping from his nose. “her special, personal bedroom? covered with her scent? all her things?”

“no offense, bun," zoro says dryly, raising an eyebrow. “but have you completely lost the plot?”

haha, probably.

despite your thinking, your brow draws downward to make your expression flat. you lift your hands to silence whatever else might come out of their mouths and—amazingly—they pause to wait, their eyes wide and all full of…something as they regard you.

“look, i already have insomnia on a semi-regular basis. i struggle with sleeping alone, this isn’t a secret,” you say. “most times, i either go up here to work out and make myself tired, or i head down to the library to read a book. either way, i’m usually gone for like an hour or two. so i’m thinking that occasionally—let’s say, once a week—during these moments, you three can borrow my room and use it to do…well, whatever you three do together.”

zoro’s eye flashes, with a noticeable twitch of his jaw. he looks over at luffy, who is nearly bouncing on the heels of his feet, his grin a little too wide and eager at this piece of information. luffy looks at zoro, then at sanji. sanji looks ready to faint from sheer happiness.

“a bed,” you hear him murmur, in a way that sends a pang of sympathy through your chest. “an actual bed. and it’s where my sweetness sleeps a-and—”

“sounds a little too good to be true,” zoro says, ever the skeptical one. with a narrow of his eye, he asks, “what’s the catch?”

fortunately, you already have the answer. 

“no catch, just three rules,” you tell them, before starting to list off your fingers, “one: if you need to use my room, you need to let me know ahead of time. two: any messes you leave, you clean up. and i mean, clean. whether it’s a wipedown, bleach, whatever—as long as my room looks like it did when i left it, in some manner. 

“and three: you have to change my sheets before you leave my room. not my pillowcases, of course, but maybe my quilt and bed sheets—essentially whichever is on my bed when you three…do your thing. and you have to wash them the next day!”

those are your terms and conditions, and you are determined to stick with them. so, folding your arms, you stop there and look at them. 

the three stand there, looking at you and then looking away to think. then suddenly, after a thoughtful hum, luffy taps sanji and zoro’s shoulders and draws them into a huddle. they start talking in whispers and murmurs that you can’t really hear from your place at the door—but you find the situation rather comical. sanji’s still barely clothed, his shirt practically hanging off his shoulders and his dick (which you totally aren’t staring and drooling over; obviously) still out and his legs still bare to the world. zoro is basically in a similar state, although his pants are still somewhat on, just hanging a bit low. luffy is actually the most put together—still wearing his cardigan, his denim shorts, yellow sash, and of course his straw hat—which kind of shocks you yet doesn’t, somehow. 

part of you wonders the details about their dynamic. just as quickly though, with a hot blush in your cheeks, you shake it off. 

not my business, you tell yourself. i’m just a friend helping my three friends out. nothing more, nothing less.

after about a minute, the three men seem to come to a sort of consensus. with a nod, all three of them turn to face you, each wearing expressions full of determination and—be still your insane heart—anticipation.

“bunny,” luffy says, stepping forward. there’s something dangerous in his crooked grin before he stretches out his hand. “you’ve got yourself a deal!”

welp, fuck. no turning back now.

despite the trembling that starts from within your body, you lift your hand to clasp his in a firm handshake. 

“we’ve got ourselves a deal,” you confirm.

smiling, luffy stares into your eyes a bit more, his dark gaze boring into you as your hands stay connected. you’re not certain what he’s looking for, but when he finds it, he tips his hat over his eyes—and then begins to laugh.

“this is gonna be fun!”

[bts-hyperfixation]

Outside of the Fox

OT7 x Reader - BTS (3017 words)

Chapter 1/30

Y/N longs for a new life when the one she'd been living comes to an abrupt stop. Without much thought to those she is leaving behind, the little fox packs a backpack and disappears. She stumbles across the shelter and makes an interim home for herself while she works out exactly what she wants from her second chance.

The house is a small cottage, rather tiny really compared to the three-story Victorian homes surrounding it. Most people shrugged their shoulders and called it cute when they came to visit, quaint even. The inhabitants begged to differ. They would call it shabby, run-down, and desperately in need of bulldozing, but above all else, they would call it home

 “Hyuuung, it’s too cold” Jungkook whined from where he is cuddled into the arm of their shabby leather sofa. 

A draft blew in around the gaps in the window ledge, the panes in desperate need of double glazing and sealant. The young bunny’s tail twitched in discomfort as he attempted to burrow himself into the overstuffed cushions, a blanket pulled suffocatingly tight around his shoulders.  His large brown eyes were the only thing that could be seen poking out from under the worn plaid fabric. The younger man glared at his partner across the room, trying to convince the older man to come to him.

The bear hybrid shook his head but saved his work and closed the browser before moving away from his corner desk to the other side of the small sofa. Jungkook wasted no time jumping across into the large man’s lap, dragging his blanket with him to cover the two of them. Namjoon reached out to pet the rabbit between his ears, earning a satisfied purr.

“You know we will never be able to afford to heat the hovel this winter if you won’t let me finish any of my work Bun…” Namjoon pointed out, but his arms encircled his youngest lover anyway.

Jungkook leant back long enough to get a good look at Namjoon. His stubble had grown much thicker as the cold weather drew closer. The dark circles under his eyes were also becoming more pronounced as he lost more and more sleep trying to keep their little family afloat. He rubbed the end of his cold nose against the older man’s, making them both laugh.He nestled back into the crook of Namjoon’s neck and made himself comfortable in the embrace. 

That’s how they'd fallen asleep, and that’s how Yoongi found them when he walked through their front door. He dropped his bags and removed his shoes before he traipsed across the thread-bare carpet, curled into Joon’s side and pulled a little part of the blanket for himself.

Subconsciously, Namjoon’s arm reached over Yoongi’s shoulder and pulled him close, an innate instinct to protect the small jackal from the cold world. Before long Yoongi's breathing matched the others and he too fell asleep. 

They remained like that together for the majority of the afternoon, drifting in and out of naps and hushed conversations, the perfect picture of domestic intimacy. Right until they'd been abruptly awoken by their fourth and final packmate screeching as he opened the door.

“Goooooodd Evening family,” Jimin called, sweeping dramatically through the front door and into the living room. 

Groggily, the others unfolded themselves from each other to look at the man before them. Jungkook hissed, annoyed as Namjoon released him in his attempt to turn and see Jimin. Large arms encircled him again, squeezing him too tightly for just a moment, calming him instantly.

“You’re awfully chipper, Chim.” Yoongi said, rubbing his eyes sleepily.

Jungkook reached out to pull Jimin into his lap, earning a soft groan from the bear beneath him who hadn’t been expecting the sudden weight change. Still, he'd accepted the fourth man happily, nuzzling into his neck. Namjoon blew a raspberry onto the red panda's exposed skin, making him squirm. Jimin swatted at their largest packmate and launched back into his theatrical attitude, 

“Wouldn’t you be chipper if you’d just met the love of your life?” The redhead sighed dramatically, falling back against Joon’s chest with the back of his hand pressed to his forehead.

Each of the men around him released varying growls of displeasure at the new announcement,

"Relax," Jimin holds his hands up in surrender. "I meant the fourth love of my life, potentially the love of our lives." He paused for effect, taking in the various expressions of bemusement around him. 

None of the men seemed particularly thrilled at the idea. Yoongi glanced at Joon, already weary of how much the leader was going through just to keep their little family from going under. Namjoon's brows knitted together as his brain tried to calculate how he could make it work, willing to do anything for his family. Jungkook whined, Namjoon's fingers had gone still, no longer playing absently with his hair, far less concerned with the thought of another pack mate, if Jiminie loved them of course he'd love them. 

The redhead allows each of them to digest his news, eyes flitting between each member, trying to measure how he should proceed. He knew it wouldn't go down well. Namjoon's editor had refused every amendment he'd tried to make, and he wouldn't see a penny until the preorders could be made. Yoongi hadn't had a hit in a while, everyone was going through a phase of self-production and he just wasn't able to flow creatively. Jungkook hadn't been able to work since they'd found him. He was getting better every day, and maybe he would be ready soon, but not yet. And Jimin knew his volunteer work wasn't helping in the slightest but he couldn't leave behind all those that had helped him when he needed it most. 

"Look, I know it's not ideal... I really didn't expect it, I swear.... And I don't even know if she'd be interested in me, let alone a full pack. She is pretty and funny though, and she seems so nice, and I just... I don't know, I just want to know her." Jimin rushed to try and explain. 

"She?" Yoongi fixed, eyes narrowing "I've never considered a female...." He shrugged and reached out to pat Jimin lovingly. "I suppose there is no harm in meeting her if you feel so strongly, love," He conceded immediately after meeting Jimin's eyes, never able to refuse him a thing. 

Namjoon shook his head, fingers starting to scratch at Jungkook's ear again as he unfroze.

"There is definitely no harm in making a new friend at the very least, but we can't make any promises Chim,.." 

The bear's free hand pinched at Jimin's cheek. "Where did you meet her anyway? I thought you were at the shelter today?"

"Well you see... that's the thing." The red panda replied sheepishly before launching into a high-energy reenactment of his day. 

_________________________________

It started off as any other, he clocked into volunteer at the hybrid shelter, the same one he had stayed at when he had nowhere else to go. He grabbed a coffee and headed into the main room, playing with some of the cubs as their parents prepared for job interviews and university courses.

The centre catered for a wide variety of hybrids: some escaped abusive humans or illegal syndicates, some had been abandoned as kids or orphaned, and others had just wanted a change and moved into town without any plans of their own. Jimin was one of the latter. He'd grown up in the mountains with his mother and a couple of siblings but he'd never enjoyed the reclusive life that had allowed them, he longed for something with more people, and more excitement. So with no plan, and less money, he made his way into town performing odd jobs in exchange for meals and small fares to pay his way, eventually stumbling upon the shelter. 

He'd met Namjoon there, long after the bear had already settled down with Yoongi. Namjoon had been researching shelters for an article and Jimin showed him around. Then after the article was published the older man found himself lingering around the shelter in the evenings just to catch a glimpse of the other's bright hair in the distance, right up until Yoongi marched past him and into the building one day demanding that Jimin move in with them so his lover would stop going out to pine over other men. Namjoon's face had gone as red as Jimin's hair that day, especially seeing as Yoongi had never met Jimin before that.

You'd walked in around noon, just as Jimin managed to get the youngest down for a nap. He'd placed the cub into a bassinet and rushed to meet you before any of the other volunteers could steal his chance. Jimin had nearly knocked down poor Wonho as he zoomed past to get to you first. He tried desperately to be charming as he took you through the protocols of the building, explaining the rules and regulations you would need to follow in order to stay with them at the shelter.

You nodded along graciously as he showed you to a cot with a lockable box where you could leave your things. He wanted to ask you about how you'd managed to find your way to the shelter. A hybrid as pretty as you was very rarely alone in a town like this. Still, even in his excitement, Jimin knew better than to pry, you would tell them in your own time if you wanted to. 

He left you to settle in for a little while and tried to focus on a game of chess with one of the old timers that had just stopped by for some company, but he couldn't help wondering how you were getting on with unpacking. You hadn't arrived with much, a backpack and some electronics. He thought about maybe taking you shopping but there was very limited funding in the budget at the moment. The elder hybrid checked him just as you walked into the rec room.

It's like he could sense the exact moment you walked into the room. His gaze met yours instantly and he smiled, what he hoped was an easy, confident, maybe even reassuring smile, but you didn't look convinced. His chess partner had laughed at him, and shooed him away as soon as he figured out where the boy's true attention lay. 

Sheepishly Jimin bowed to the man and removed himself from play, defeated. It didn't take the man long to find himself a new victim to play against. Sheepishly Jimin bowed to the man and removed himself from play, defeated. It didn't take the man long to find himself a new victim to play against. 

You'd seemed a little unsure of yourself, wanting to introduce yourself but obviously overwhelmed. The same way Jimin had felt when he first arrived. The shelter was a large facility, filled with all manner of people from different walks of life, predators and prey alike. He watched you try to introduce yourself to a few people and quickly retreat, shaking your head and muttering to yourself each time. There was a rule in place that if you needed help you should ask for it, otherwise the volunteers would let you settle in on your own terms... but Jimin really couldn't help himself.

He allowed you to try twice more, but you were picking the wrong people. He cringed as you were brushed off by the reclusive and nervous prey and ignored by some of the more brash predators. He couldn't allow the truly defeated look to stay on your face. He glanced around the room trying to find a friendly face to introduce you to or maybe even send your way so he wasn't directly involved, but today didn't seem like it was going in your favour. The room was mostly filled with newer residents that were yet to find their own feet, probably lovely people, but of no use to him at this moment.

He crossed the room to you and interrupted your next attempt before it even had a chance to fail. At least it seemed you weren't disheartened easily. 

"Can I take you for lunch? Show you the area?" He asked brightly.

"What makes you think I don't know the area?" You responded defensively.

"Sorry I didn't mean to assume, just most people here are from out of town..."

Jimin scratches the back of his neck, not quite expecting the icy tone in your voice. Maybe that's the real reason you were struggling to make friends. He starts to rethink his plan when you soften. 

"I grew up here... I've just had some changes lately that have left me... displaced" Your answer was careful, not letting on to your past, not yet.

"Well then, where do you like to go for lunch? Maybe we could go there and you could show me around? I haven't explored as much as I'd like to have done in the last few years" 

He offers you his arm but you must not have noticed. Instead, you walk ahead of him expecting him to follow along obediently. 

You leave the shelter and turn left, heading for a ramen bar about a half mile away, a choice Jimin is thankful for given how cheap the options were. It takes a little while for the conversation to flow. Jimin found it terribly awkward to get any conversation out of you, even light small talk seemed difficult for you. Not that you weren't making an obvious effort, more like you didn't know how to reciprocate appropriately when asking questions, and you clearly weren't ready to share about yourself yet.

Jimin was never one to shy away from a challenge though. He stopped trying to lead you into questions, instead focusing on his own life. Revelling in each laugh that slipped past your lips as he relayed the antics of his packmates, not missing the wistful look in your eyes. He tried not to dwell on the moments that made you shy away. 

The walk back to the shelter was spent in an almost comfortable silence. The threat of another question was always on the tip of Jimin's tongue as he tried not to overwhelm you more than he already had. As the shelter came into view your pace slowed, dragging your feet against the pavement as if you didn't want to return. Jimin almost asked you why, but you beat him to it.

"It's strange... such a busy place shouldn't feel so lonely should it?" You asked, glancing sideways at him. 

"I don't think you'll stay lonely," Jimin responds optimistically.

"I'm not sure I've ever not been lonely…." You muse more to yourself than to him. 

It's the first real bit of information you've given him, outside of your name and he takes a moment to digest it, not really sure how to answer that. One thing Jimin had never felt was true loneliness. He liked being alone sometimes, but there had always been someone there when he needed them. 

"I hope I can help you feel a little less alone." He stops looking at you properly to try to convey the sincerity of his words.

You just nod wordlessly and kick at a pebble on the ground. He reaches out to move some hair away from your face, hand lingering a little longer than it maybe should've done. You just looked so sweet, a defeated look in your eyes similar to the one Jungkook had had when they met. A look he desperately wanted to make go away. Briefly, you loiter in the touch before your expression becomes stoic and you continue with the walk back to the shelter. 

"Thank you for lunch." You say and then head back into the rooms at the back of the building. 

Jimin watches until you are through the door, his heart aching as your figure disappears. He has always found himself getting a little too invested in people too quickly, he couldn't help it, and it seemed you'd be no different. He spent the rest of his shift thinking of things he could do to cheer you up. Every time the door opened he looked up trying to catch a glimpse of you again before he had to leave for the day. 

Unfortunately, it wasn't meant to be, the clock finally struck 5 and Jimin had to make it home for dinner. 

__________________________

"Right... So what point of that day makes you think she is the love of your life exactly?" Yoongi raised his eyebrow in bemusement. 

It wasn't exactly a whirlwind romantic story like they'd each been expecting. If anything it sounded like she had shown no interest in Jimin in the slightest. 

"I'm sure what Yoongi means, is that it seems like you've not really had the opportunity to get to know her yet Chim." Namjoon softens the delivery.

Jimin still pouts, a little deterred by their reaction to the first day of the rest of his life, they just didn't get it, they hadn't met you. 

"I know I don't know her properly yet, but I will. There's something about her. It feels like I did when I first met Kookie." Jimin assures them. "You'll meet her and you'll get exactly what I mean!" 

Jungkook frowns at that, his and Jimin's relationship is one of a kind and he wasn't going to take a comment like that lightly. He nips at Jimin's fingers when the older man reaches to pet his ears. Keen to defuse the sudden tension in air Yoongi unburies himself from the pile and makes an excuse about needing to make dinner. The jackal drags the young bunny up with him to help. 

"If you feel so strongly Jimin, maybe you should spend some more time with her and see where it leads." Namjoon pulls Jimin closer and nuzzles into his neck leaving little kisses. "Just don't forget where home is in the process." 

"I want you to meet her Hyung." 

"And we will, but maybe not right away?"

"No, you need to meet her, soon. Come with me to work tomorrow, pretty please." Jimin's eyes are wide and hopeful, something he knows Namjoon would never say no to, and he doesn't.

So the next day each of them get up and ready to follow Jimin to work at the shelter.

Masterlist

Series Masterlist

Next

Disclaimer: Jin, Hobi, and Tae will not be appearing in the first few chapters of this fic. The original packmates are Namjoon, Yoongi, Jimin, and Jungkook, in that order. Originally this fic was supposed to be a tiny OT4 drabble for kinktober so that's why...

Chapter 2 will be released next Sunday and so forth until the fic is finished!

Hope you enjoy it :)

[beedokwrites]

Update day for Blessings of Salmakis.

Canadian popstar Romeo Valenti gets a very gender-y curse from ancient Greek mythology, and their already chaotic life turns even more hectic.

Chapter on Scribblehub

[princ3ssminki]

What the Heart Wants

Fandom: Ateez

Pairings: Woosansang (Wooyoung x San x Yeosang)

College/Skater boy AU

7.8k

Ex lovers Wooyoung and Yeosang remain best friends, both mutual on their breakup so they both can focus on their futures. When Yeosang gets injured Wooyoung takes care of him and introduces him to San. The three become instantly close.

But feelings Yeosang thought went away for Wooyoung resurfaces, and not only that, unexpected feelings for San appear, leaving him unsure of what to do.

Link

[robthegoodfellow]

Only One Bed 2/?

previous / or read on AO3

Heather had been making eyes at Billy all week, kept bringing up the fourth of July party at the quarry and trailing off with a hopeful inflection in her voice, but so far he’d been playing dumb—or coy?

He wasn’t against hooking up with her, especially since, given her track record, it wouldn’t be anything more than that. And Eddie would be manning the bar, likely wouldn’t be free till midnight, so… yeah, he was leaning toward going, but it was fun letting her work for it.

“C’mon, Billy,” she said, making one last pitch as they headed to the parking lot after their opening shift on Thursday. “Everyone else is going. Stacy and Matt and Jackie… even Steve is going, and he needs us, Billy—this’ll be his first party post-breakup—”

“Break-up?” he repeated, stopping dead in his tracks a split second before the Straight Monitor in his head barked at him to keep moving.

“You didn’t hear?” She widened her eyes, the requisite sympathy undercut by titillation. “Nancy dumped him last week. Didn’t you wonder why he’s been so glum?”

“No,” Billy lied.

She giggled. “Then again, he’s always grouchy around you.”

Billy’s willingness to hook up with her dropped by about 30%.

“Yeah, well—feeling’s mutual,” he muttered.

She shook her head. “Don’t you think it’s time to put all the high school drama behind us?” she asked, as though she hadn’t been glorying in gossip mere moments ago. “Come to the party and—bury the hatchet or whatever!”

“Fine,” he said, rolling his eyes, then clarified, when she squealed and hugged him sideways, hopping in place, “I’ll go, I mean—not that I’ll… he’s still a dick.”

“Of course,” she said, in the tone of someone humoring a child. “But you’ll come?”

“Yeah.” He sighed, gently shrugged her off his arm to dig out his keys. “Want me to pick you up?”

“I’m all set for getting there,” she said, then sidled up to him as he reached for the door, key in hand, and murmured in his ear. “But I’d be up for a ride home?”

“Guess we’ll see where the night takes us,” he replied, voice low, and smirked when she couldn’t quite repress a shiver.

~~~

Eddie would’ve razzed him big time for how damn long he took primping in front of the mirror the next evening, but lucky for Billy, Eddie was downstairs pouring beer for assorted locals and bikers and local bikers.

He was in the jeans that Eddie referred to as an ass magnet—meaning both that they were for getting ass and ensuring all eyes were glued to his ass—and a white short-sleeved button-down, mostly unbuttoned, tucked in at the waist. Brown belt, brown boots with a slight heel to induce a certain swagger in his step. Nothing earth-shattering—his usual getup—but the white looked nice against his tan.

It was his hair that had been giving him grief, stubbornly refusing to cohere into curls instead of unsightly frizz, until, in a fit of frustration, he’d tied it up in a messy… bun… thing. And then, angling his chin this way and that in the mirror, struck by the sweeping curve of his neck, his jaw—sort of… elegant but… vulnerable?—he’d pawed through the vanity drawer, fished out the earring—the one with the metal spike hanging from a row of beads—and threaded it through his lobe.

Had watched it swing as he shifted his head, riveted awhile.

“Holy shit,” Eddie hollered, when Billy swung by on his way out. His gaze raked him head to toe, nothing short of delighted. “You should wear a warning, boy!”

And Billy internally paused, tripped up yet again by the vast difference between here and Cherry Lane.

“You like?” he purred, leaning cross-armed on the bar. The place was busy, but no one was currently vying for service. Eddie wiped his hands on a dishrag and mirrored him.

“Babe, if it wouldn’t mess up your pretty outfit, I’d be taking fifteen and taking you with me.”

“Smooth,” Billy pronounced, awarding credit where credit was due.

“That was, right?” Eddie hunched, peered around like phantoms lurked nearby. “I don’t know how, but when I’m working the taps, I’m a total Don Juan.”

Billy hummed, speculative. “Is that why bartenders are so sexy?”

“It’s that tap magic. Bar magic.”

“And definitely not the drunkenness.”

Eddie’s whole face lit with divine inspiration, and Billy knew a pun was imminent. “Beauty,” he intoned. “Is in the eye of the beer-holder.”

Billy thunked his head to the wood and groaned.

“How sexy am I now?” Eddie demanded.

“Significantly less,” he insisted, muffled, hiding a mile-wide smile, and heard Eddie scoff. Billy straightened, about to shove off toward the exit, when Eddie leaned forward, extending a hand, and Billy stilled.

Fingertips were warm at his sternum. Billy ducked his chin, watched as Eddie gently flipped his pendant so that Mary looked out. Their eyes locked, and Eddie stroked the back of his fingers across the skin below the necklace, conjured goosebumps easy as breathing. He withdrew, cut his gaze to a jowly patron approaching the bar.

“Have fun, man,” Eddie said, grin soft, and Billy nodded, resisted rubbing where Ed had touched, pressing it in.

~~~

The booze was flowing, bonfire high, by the time Billy rolled up to the chaos of cars at Sattler’s Quarry. Wisely parking at a distance in case he wanted a quick escape, he hoofed it down the dirt road toward the dancing shadows and silhouettes. Springsteen was growl-howling about his country of birth, and not in a complimentary way—but Billy guessed most in attendance hadn’t listened to the lyrics all that closely.

“There you are!” cried Heather, waving a beer from her perch atop one of the mismatched picnic tables carted in by enterprising delinquents past. “Finally!”

He dug a beer out of the cooler at her feet, cracked the tab, and knew by about his second pull that he wouldn’t be fucking Heather that night—she’d clearly been laying in the groundwork with Matt in Billy’s absence, and that was fine by him.

“Any close calls?” he asked the group at large, referring to the cliff, and half-listened to the impassioned recounting of so-and-so almost plummeting to his death.

Half-listened because the other half was straining toward the neighboring cluster of bodies, where Harrington was loud and swaying. Billy had clocked the guy’s whereabouts the second he arrived and hated himself for it. Refused to look his way, even as his ear followed that voice weaving through the air.

As the night wore on, he circulated among the shifting, raucous groups, catching up with old buddies from the basketball team, flirting with old flings who hadn’t taken his roaming attention too personally. Along toward eleven, someone set off fireworks—the puffy, sparky kind you could buy off road-side stands, nothing too awe-inspiring. Billy had kept a weather eye out from a distance, anticipating bone-headed injuries, but fortunately didn’t need to bring his lifeguard training to bear.

Hadn’t lost track of Harrington the whole time, which is how they never crossed paths, buffered by the repelling forcefield of Billy’s hyperawareness.

That was what people hadn’t realized, but Billy knew with certainty: that he and Harrington were magnets—no tight jeans necessary, Ed, because the magnets were in them. Were them. They were. And unless Billy kept his magnet flipped at all times, his negative pole aimed at Harrington’s, he’d go flying. Crash right into him and never want to part.

Or, inevitably: crash and keep crashing until he’d broken himself to pieces, because Billy was a realist, and Harrington was—Harrington.

So he knew it was a bad idea to go investigate when he heard the commotion by Carver’s big shiny Jeep Cherokee—Harrington’s last registered location. Knew he shouldn’t, that whatever conflict was unfolding, Harrington would be fine. But—his feet were already moving, heedless of the alarm blaring Danger, Will Robinson.

“Jason—STOP,” Chrissy cried, her pint-size form hidden by the huddle of figures all standing loose and yet tense—like the halting shift of winds before a storm. “You’re both drunk and stupid—just quit it!”

Carver did not quit it, based on his reply; the guy being likewise a pip-squeak, Billy couldn’t see him in the crowd, either. “What, I’m s’posed to take what he said lying down?”

“Yeah,” answered Harrington, obviously wasted off his face. “Or take it bending over—up to you.”

Knowing fighting words when he heard them, Billy launched himself through the inner ring of bodies in time to see Carver land a punch. Chrissy darted in front of her slavering boyfriend, arms out to stymie further blows, but Carver was too far gone to notice and clobbered her on the backswing. Chrissy went down like a bag of bricks, knelt whimpering on the ground.

“Get him out of here!” Billy shouted, grabbing Harrington by the scruff of his douchey polo—more to keep him upright than anything, since he’d made no move to defend himself. Carver’s cronies—Chance and Andy—hauled him away, and Billy reached a toward Chrissy.

“Here,” he said. “Can you stand?”

Chrissy let him lever her to her feet again as she wiped at tear-streaked cheeks with her wrist.

“Chrissy,” slurred Harrington. His glassy doe eyes were round and contrite. “’M so sorry, Chrissy—didn’t mean to—”

“Shut the fuck up, Harrington,” Billy snapped, pulling them both toward the bonfire, where waited a herd of coolers, and hopefully some ice. Harrington stumbled and then righted himself, head ducked like a naughty puppy, Billy’s fist unrelenting in his collar.

He sat Chrissy on a closed cooler and, in a moment of inspiration, kicked Harrington’s feet out from under him. The oof as he collapsed onto his ass was damn satisfying. Crouching, Billy dug up a nice icy chunk and held it out to Chrissy.

“Wrap this in your bandana and hold it where he clipped you.”

“Thanks,” she said, sniffling, and did as she was told, lifting the improvised cold-pack to her cheekbone.

“And you,” he said, yanking his other patient upright. Harrington groaned, palm pressed to his left eye. “You gonna hurl?”

“…No,” Harrington grumbled, after a quick, assessing pause.

“Then here,” Billy announced, shoving a clump of ice under his nose. “And you can freeze your eyeball solid for all I care, but if you’ve got any braincells left, I’d wrap it in your shirt or something.”

Several mincing silhouettes came rushing up to his triage station.

“Oh, my god—Chrissy!” said one—he thought her name was Judy. Maybe Trudy. “We heard what happened! Are you okay?”

“Jason just ralphed in some bushes—so gross,” cried another—Jen. Or Jess?

“He’s gonna feel so bad when he realizes what—”

“I think I want to go home,” Chrissy said, her hushed words somehow cutting through the noise.

There was an awkward pause while the assembled girls waited for someone else to volunteer to leave the party early. Such friends.

Billy closed the cooler lid.

“I’ll drive you,” he said, low. After all, Eddie would never forgive him if he let someone three sheets to the wind sail his precious Chrissy anywhere. “You, too,” he added, sharp, poking Harrington’s shoulder.

“Fine.”

“Fine,” Billy parroted, and corralled him upward ungently. Chrissy stood, aimed a quavering smile his way, and followed him to the car.

~~~

Somehow, they heaved Harrington into the cramped backseat of the Camaro. Chrissy sat prim in passenger and secured her seatbelt, because of course she did. In deference to her finer sensibilities, he stuck one of Max’s pop mixes in the tape deck and turned the volume low.

Peeling onto the dirt road, he snuck a glance at Harrington slumped against the sliver of window.

“You blow chunks in my car, Harrington, and I will kill you.”

“Fuck off.” Mumbled and mutinous.

“Nice,” Billy replied, faux-enthused, and Chrissy giggled quietly, her elbow propped on the door, still holding the icepack to her face. He glanced over just as another tear oozed down her cheek, and she swiped at it with a huff.

“Don’t know why I can’t stop—crying,” she said, abashed. “Doesn’t hurt that bad.”

“It’s just ‘cause he caught ya near the eye,” Billy explained. “It’s gonna smart awhile.”

She smiled, tremulous and grateful. “You know all this from—your job? Eddie said—” She stopped, flushing, as though unsure whether her frequent chats with one Edward Munson were safe to acknowledge out loud.

“Yep,” Billy confirmed, skating past her awkwardness. “Certified life-saver.”

“You’re… good at it,” she offered.

“What even happened?” he asked, flicking his gaze at Harrington in the rearview.

She sighed, annoyed. “It was mostly Jason being a—big jerk,” she proclaimed, puffing out her chest like she’d just used some strong language there and was damn proud of it. Billy bit his lip, stifling an amused grin. “He kept bringing up college when he knows that—” Not at all subtly, she threw a look at the drunk in the back and continued in a whisper. “When he knows that not everyone is—going and might not wanna talk about it.”

Billy raised his brows, seeing where this was going. “So Harrington said something dickish right back, and then…?”

Chrissy nodded. “Jason was really—needling him, though. About Nancy, too. You know how he gets.”

Billy did. Which begged the question:

“Why are you with him, again?” he asked. “No offense. You just seem like…” They coasted to a stop at a red light, and he looked her up and down. Chrissy stared back at him, curious to hear what she seemed. “The opposite of a big jerk.”

Her lips quirked, shyly pleased. She was just—so fucking cute. And sweet. And kind. No wonder Ed adored her. Billy swallowed hard, mentally bid farewell to his and Eddie’s—thing.

“Not for nothing, but…” He blinked away a sudden burn, stared at the red light. It turned green, and they were moving. “I know a certain guy who’s also the opposite of a jerk. Who really likes you.”

He didn’t look at her—didn’t want her to feel too… put on the spot, or whatever.

“Just—putting it out there,” he said. “As someone who’s figuring out that who I was in high school isn’t actually… who I am.”

When she spoke, her voice was wobbly. “I’m leaving. End of August.”

“I know.” He chewed on that, then shrugged. “And you’ll have to figure out who you are out there, too.” Let out a cynical snort, wry smile. “Like I did when they dragged me here.”

Chrissy was quiet the rest of the way to Harrington’s, but it wasn’t a cold quiet—more contemplative. He pulled up to the curb outside the McMansion that had hosted many a rager over the years and climbed out to lever his seat forward.

Harrington was still slumped sideways, looking worse for wear, but cobbled together enough coordination so that Billy wasn’t dragging dead weight up the walkway.

The place was locked, naturally.

“Harrington,” he said, propping him against the door. “Where are your keys?”

When all that produced was a breathy laugh, Billy made the fatal error of glaring at him—and their eyes met. Harrington’s were half closed, his head tilted back so the moon licked the line of his throat. There was a glint in his eyes—a sharpness that Billy hadn’t expected, that stole his air.

“Back pocket,” Harrington said, and then—made no move to get them.

Billy wasn’t built to resist so blatant an invitation, however ill-advised. Slowly, he slid the hand gripping Harrington’s side down, down, around. Over the speedbump of his belt, until he brushed the lip of a pocket. He hadn’t blinked, lost in the slivers of dark iris—wasn’t breathing, either, though his heart was pounding like a drum.

It was like he said—they were magnets. Billy stepped close, slipped his fingers in. Cupped the curve of his ass, cinched them flush, and there it was—Harrington’s dick hard as a post, right there, right where Billy was throbbing, separated by layers of denim and cotton that did little to mute the heat.

“Knew it,” said Harrington, one corner of his mouth lifted in a mocking smirk. His lips parted again, and the shape was mean.

Billy jerked the keys free, fumbled with the deadbolt—got it right on the first try, somehow—and turned the knob. The door swung inward, and Harrington was dumped onto his pampered derrière for the second time that evening.

“You know fuck all,” Billy said. “Drink water before you crawl to bed, asshole.”

Chrissy was watching him, jaw agape, as he stomped back to the car—was still goggling at him when they pulled onto the main road.

“You live off of Mulberry, right?” he asked, faking calm.

“Did you—what just—?”

“Harrington’s one of those big jerks we talked about.” It came out tight, words squished past a clogged windpipe. “And I’ve been trying to swear off those, you know? Cold turkey. Zero tolerance. Just say no.”

“Are you… okay?” asked the girl who was gonna take his one non-jerk away from him.

“Mm-hmm.” Blinked away more burn. Breathed in, easy-easy, out easy-easy.

He was being dumb. Eddie wasn’t gonna—go anywhere, just because he had a girlfriend. He’d still be Eddie. Goofy, open-hearted Eddie. And maybe Chrissy didn’t even want to date him, maybe they were being presumptuous, maybe—

Oh, who was he kidding. If Chrissy saw even half of what Billy saw in Eddie, of course she’d want to date him—how could she not?

Because Eddie was just—he was a good person. Like, at his core. And he deserved a good person. Someone who made him happy. Like Chrissy.

By the time they drove past the laundromat, he’d talked himself around to looking on the bright side of things. Eddie was his friend. Would still be his friend. And so he drove, Chrissy indicating through murmurs and pointed fingers where to turn, until he parked in the driveway of a stately colonial.

They sat in silence. Chrissy unbuckled her seat belt and hesitated only a moment before she touched Billy’s arm. Her fingers were soft and warm.

“You sure you’re okay?” The way she asked it—like she really wanted to know the answer, and cared, threatened to undo all that hard work to regain his composure. He gulped the painful lump as it bloomed again. “You seem upset.”

Billy huffed a laugh, shook his head. “It’s nothing, just…” He closed his eyes, like that would help, and when she ran her hand down his forearm, soothing, the words came pouring out. “I think I just forgot. How nice it is when someone’s… nice to you? When someone… makes you feel good. And how it’s kinda key. To have that.”

Chrissy squeezed his arm, and he opened his eyes to find she had been infected by the waterworks.

“I think I’d forgotten, too,” she whispered.

Billy sucked his lips between his teeth and raised his brows, a silent who woulda thunk it?

She let out a giggle, faint and stuttery, tugged on his wrist, and before he knew it, she’d swindled him into a hug.

And look at that. It was nice. It made him feel good. So he mustered the will to speak once more. Seal his fate. Nail in the coffin. Other melodramatic metaphors.

“Come see him play on Tuesday?"

She withdrew enough to scan his face, and nodded.

~~~

He waited till the front door closed behind her, then backed out of the driveway, wove his way through the circuitous neighborhood.

Pulled into the parking lot of the laundromat.

Then crossed his arms over the steering wheel and had a nice, good cry.

next

[ze-eternalmarsh]

Name: Min Yoongi, or the demon in progress

Ship: ot7, Yoongi/everyone - BTS

Rating: Explicit

Category: M/M

Wordcount: 36,026k

Type: Long fic [discontinued!!]

Tags: demon au, seven deadly sins, retail worker yoongi, eventual relationship, crack, fluff, smut, angst, strangers to friends to lovers, polyamory, hurt/comfort, feelings, depressed!min yoongi

Summary:

Retail worker Yoongi has seen so much shit in his job that he doesn't give a fuck when demons start showing up and try to scare him. However, it becomes a problem for him when 6 demons representing 6 of the deadly sins, invite themselves in his house to ask him to become the last missing sin.

Or the story of how sometimes demons can help you with your depression while simultaneously trying to corrupt your soul.

[Based on these two iconic ideas that I used for my university creative writing class as a play LOL! This fic is old, but I'm posting all my works ig! This one is for registered users only.]

[dawnssummers]

oh yeah decided i believe in faith/willow/kennedy whyever not

[beedok]

Continuing adventures of my pan and genderfluid disaster who gets a slightly on the nose curse from an ancient cursed spring. (No, not that ancient cursed spring, the one from Greek mythology…)

With two more chapters up for patrons: https://www.patreon.com/beedok