#he's always been more of an outside cat anyways it's just so odd that he's not even hanging around anymore

[agents-are-dicks]

one of my cats has been missing for 8 days now. We think he ran off and got lost right before the storm last week. This doesn't affect any of you but I'm really fucking sad about it.

[jinistd]

𝐊𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐘

p. hyunjin × fem!reader

g. smut & fluff

w. 4K

content warning: smut, explicit sexual content, unestablished relationship, smoking, hyunjin gets high, consensual, hyunjin is a service top, use of pet names (hyunjin calls reader kitten/kitty)

masterlist

“-y/n?” she hears Felix call from beside her. The younger had been yapping all period about the party tonight, and y/n didn’t mean to be rude, she really didn’t, but she couldn’t help her mind drifting off onto more important things! Said things being a certain someone that has been making appearance after appearance in her daily daydreaming. Now she's not exactly complaining per se, but she is a little confused as to why her friend has been plaguing her mind more frequently than usual. It could be anything really, from his soothing voice to his dark brown eyes that always held an emotion Y/N couldn’t quite decipher, to his big, veiny hands that always had Y/N's mind drifting to other things. Things like how they would look in hers, how they would look around her waist, or between her thighs-

“Y/N!” You are again pulled from your thoughts as Felix gently kicks your leg under the table, whisper-yelling so as to not draw too much attention to you. You look at him sheepishly, brows drawn together with a small, apologetic smile on your face. “I’m sorry Lixie, what were you saying?” The boy’s frown only deepens, inching closer to you.

Felix squints his eyes as if he’s trying to find something. “Are you ok? You’ve been zoning out lately. Like, more than usual.” He diagnoses, again leaning further into your space, and at this point, it probably looks very odd from an outside perspective.

Blinking, you wonder if you should tell Felix what you've been thinking about recently. Telling Felix would mean also telling Han indirectly, but that’s technically not a bad thing because Han has much better advice than Felix anyway. You decide that it wouldn’t hurt to tell your best friend.

You purse your lips, looking at the professor at the front of the classroom. “Felix, may I ask you something?” You start hesitantly, cheeks tingeing lightly as you keep your eyes away from the boy next to you. Felix raises a brow with a ghost of a smirk creeping its way onto his face, pulling away from you to lean back in his chair.

“Of course, Y/N! What’s got the puppy blushing?” The nickname only stirs your insides a little bit, nowhere near the sensation when Hyunjin calls you by the name. You gather yourself momentarily, piecing together your thoughts and looking around just to make sure no one is paying attention to you, which is unlikely for how far away you guys are from the rest of the class, and the amount of people. “How do you know if you like someone?” you finally let out, rushed, searching your friend's eyes for any minute reaction. It’s not like you doesn’t know you like Hyunjin, you're sure you do, but it seemed like the safest question to ask.

Felix's face shifts from surprise, brows raised, and mouth parted slightly, to smug almost instantaneously. “Oh? Does Y/N have a crush?” He asks, voice saccharinely sweet and teasing.

Leaning forward to shove his friend's shoulder half-heartedly, you whine, “Don’t tease! Just answer the question.” You sit back in your chair, watching as Felix feigns hurt for all of five seconds before he’s back to smiling at you. This time it’s downright maniacal, reminding you of the Cheshire cat, and you're just a bit terrified as the boy opens his mouth to say something. “It’s Hyunjin, isn’t it?”

The blush that was slowly fading has come back in full force, bright reds painting your cheeks as you freeze. Felix gasps, eyes wide and mouth agape. “Oh my god, It’s totally Hyunjin!” He concludes, giggling like a kid at Christmas as he stares at your panic-stricken face. “Lixie it’s not funny!” Huffing, he turns away from his friend and to his notebook, which is barren of the notes they should’ve been taking. Felix seems to catch onto the fact that you are genuinely worried about whatever is going on and decides to save the teasing for later.

“Y/N, I don't know exactly how you feel, but Hyunjin definitely wouldn’t turn you down if you asked him out.” He assures because really, the elder would probably leap at the chance to go on a date with you. I mean who wouldn’t? You may not know, but most of their friends had developed a crush on him at some point, all having gotten over it, but that doesn’t mean it didn’t happen.

You seem confused by his statement as he tilts his head to the side, eyes asking Felix a question. “What do you mean?” you say softly, almost as if your scared to know the answer. And to this, Felix just kind of stares at you for a moment, trying to figure out if you are making a joke. But your face doesn’t change one bit, staying in a state of confusion. He looks to the side as if there's a camera before turning back to the still-confused Y/N.

“Y/N, do you really not know?” Felix asks slowly, letting the words settle in the air around you. Dark hair shifting as you shake your head, you let out a small ‘no’.

At this, Felix laughs lightly, disbelieving at just how oblivious you are. “Hyung looks at you like you’re the only person in the world. He has these heart eyes, you know? And have you seen him around other people? Bro could not care less about anyone but you, he doesn’t even try to hide it! He’s also really rude to people who try to flirt with him, like, he looks at them like he’s disgusted by their presence. Disgusted Y/N! Have you really never noticed? He’s so obvious about it too…” He trails off, realizing that you had gone silent as he ranted about their older friend's behavior.

When Felix looks over at you, your face is blank with surprise, eyes widened and your bottom lip falling. “He doesn’t do that…” Your voice is nowhere near convincing.

“Sure, he doesn’t.” Is all Felix says before changing the subject again, but you are hardly paying attention.

You are two seconds away from running out the front door of the house. You rarely go to parties, and every time you do, you're reminded as to why. It’s loud, so loud, there's people grinding on each other everywhere, and you lost Felix in the crowd, so you're all alone at a party where you don’t know anyone. Yay!

You're looking around the living room for anyone you may know, or just to not look like an idiot, but either works, and you're almost successful! You think you see Hyunjin sitting on the couch rolling a blunt on the table in front of him, but as soon as you're about to walk over, something—no someone— is blocking your view.

“Hey.” The stranger smirks down at you, the warped smile looking all types of wrong on his face. It makes him look creepy and gross, causing you to cringe at their closeness.

“Can I help you?” You force yourself to be polite, manners still thoroughly intact even in the undesirable circumstances. The boy only increases the disgustingness of his smirk, raking his eyes up and down your body.

You shift in your spot as you look away, uncomfortably folding your arms over your chest and trying your best to glance over the stranger’s shoulder in search of Hyunjin. But the older isn’t on the couch anymore. You deflate, only to suck in a breath at the feeling of an arm being wrapped around his shoulder.

“Hi Baby.” Hyunjin’s voice is a whisper in his ear, lips brushing against the skin. You flush as a shudder runs through your body, you turn to look up at Hyunjin in surprise, his eyes already burning into yours. “Jinnie?” You question softly. Your faces are so close together, you wonder if the taller can hear your heart racing at the proximity.

Hyunjin’s hand comes up to your face, caressing your jaw. “I was looking for you,” He giggles, leaning in closer to your face, inches away. And he makes it sound so real, as if he really was looking for you amidst the crowd, which after the information Felix had shared with you earlier today, has a good chance of being true. Suddenly, Hyunjin looks away from you, eyes set on the stranger who is still standing there, his gaze murderous.

“Can I help you?” The taller spits, standing to his full height and dropping his hand down to your waist to pull you into his body. The boy practically squeaks before scurrying off with his tail between his legs, leaving you two alone.

Your body immediately deflates, leaning yourself into Hyunjin’s comforting hold easily. “Hi Jinnie.” You mumble, turning your head back to look at the older.

Hyunjin softens at the sound of your voice, your eyes finally meeting again. “Hi Y/N-ah.” You preen at the name, your name always sounding different when Hyunjin says it, but to be fair everything sounds different when Hyunjin says it. Better in every way.

He leads the younger to the couch, right where he had been sitting before saving you. Hyunjin picks up the rolled blunt from the table and reaches for the lighter in his pocket.

“y/nnie.” He calls simply, letting the name permeate in the air. You tilt your head to the elder, looking up at him. You aren't sitting far apart at all, thighs touching as Hyunjin lays back against the couch with the new blunt resting in his mouth. His left-hand falls to your thigh, rubbing small and comforting circles into the rough material of your jeans.

It wasn’t comforting at all though, you immediately flush at the feeling of the elder's large hand on your thigh. It was a regular occurrence for Hyunjin to put his hands on you, but each time it set your body alight with nerves.

“Kitty,” God. This boy must want to kill you.

You choke, sputtering as you continue to stare at Hyunjin’s side profile. The elder takes a long drag, holding it for a few seconds and then exhaling. He turns to you. “You should try this.”

And you probably shouldn't, but when Hyunjin’s looking at you as if he's the only person in the room while asking you to do something that seems so mundane, how could you possibly say no? You're a weak woman.

So, you take the offered blunt and presses it to your lips, not really knowing what to do next. Hyunjin seems to understand your dilemma and takes mercy on you because you next hear instructions on how to smoke properly.

“Suck it like a straw, inhale, hold, exhale. Do it gently, or you’re gonna cough.” He smiles at you, teasing as you give him a quizzical expression and nods your head hesitantly.

You still cough. Violently. Your lungs burn as you hand the offensive object back to its original owner, who is now laughing. “Stop laughing!” You whine when you finally catch your breath, throat still burning. Hyunjin’s hand squeezes your thigh tighter as he laughs, head tilted back towards the ceiling. A shiver runs down your spine, Hyunjin is so hot.

“C’mere, kitty.” He grabs the back of your head and tilts your head manually. Stilling, you lay pliant in the others' grasp.

Hyunjin takes a long drag before leaning in, meeting eyes with you wide-eyed and confused. Your lips are parted slightly, just enough so that Hyunjin can lightly press his own against yours to let the smoke travel into your mouth.

The touch is gone as quick as it came.

Hyunjin's own eyes are lidded as he watches. “Suck, inhale, hold, exhale,” he murmurs quietly to you who follows his directions as best as you can, sucking it in like a straw, inhaling, holding, and exhaling.

This time it's much smoother, but the smoke travels from your mouth to Hyunjin’s in a puff, the older boy sucking up the last remnants of it in with confidence.

They're close, so close. You're practically on the other’s lap with how much you had compensated when Hyunjin pulled you in. The air between you is thick as Hyunjin brings the blunt back to his mouth, this time connecting your lips in a real kiss, letting the smoke cloud up around your mouths.

Your eyes flutter shut as they meet, Hyunjin's hand on the back of your head like a brand, heavy and hot. The one that moves to your thigh is no better, tugging on you just enough for you to get the hint that he wants you to sit in his lap. Again, you're a weak woman for Hyunjin, so you go without question.

You feel small like this, sitting in the lap of your friend. You moan against Hyunjin’s mouth as the older grips your waist, it’s not the strongest because the blunt is still between his fingers, but it's more than enough to leave you with the feeling of molten hot desire pooling in your gut.

“Jinnie…” He mumbles into Hyunjin's mouth, curling a fist into his jacket. When he opens his eyes, he sees the gaze the older has fixed on him, lust and want swirling in his dark, hooded eyes.

“Yes, Kitten?” The elder asks teasingly, leaning forward to nip at your plump lower lip. He’s reminded of the blunt in his hands though, pulling it away from your body and taking another hit.

Before he could exhale though, you connect your lips once again, holding onto the side of Hyunjin's face with one of his hands. The kiss is messy, saliva pooling in your mouth and spilling over the corners as Hyunjin kisses you back just as desperately.

But as you continue to share the blunt, your kisses and touches become languid and sweet, delving down into something less rushed. It's still filled with lust however, you're still minutely grinding up or down into each other in the middle of a party on a stranger's couch, but somehow it feels different.

You smile and giggle as you pull away, the weed hasn't hit either of you yet, but you feel light and airy as he stares at Hyunjin.

“Y/N-ah, you're so adorable.” Hyunjin coos, squeezing the side of your waist with no real force. You blush and giggle again, leaning back down to press a peck to the elder's lips. “Jinnie, do you maybe wanna…find a room?” You ask cautiously, making sure to hide yourself in Hyunjin’s neck as you do, hoping that it would serve as a covering.

The content smile on his face grows to a large grin as he cradles the back of your head. “Why don't we go back to my place? It’s only a few minutes from here.” He offers, placing a kiss to your head.

You don't know how the atmosphere changed so quickly. Just a minute ago you were practically cuddling on the couch with a side of kisses and grinding, but now the frottage has gotten out of hand and you're shaking against the elder.

“J-Jinnie! Please, please, please. I’ll be good! I’ll be so good, I swear…” You beg desperately, eyes watering with unshed tears as you stare up at Hyunjin through his lashes.

The older had been teasing you for so long. You just want him to do something to alleviate the ache of your cunt. Hyunjin has his thigh between your legs, pushing down harshly at times, or just simply letting you grind up against him.

He grins down at you. “Yeah? Does my kitty want more?” Hyunjin chides affectionately, his hand holding the side of your face as you relax into the touch.

“Yes.” The way you look is downright seductive. Your clothes aren't even off and your already drooling, hair messy as it lays over your head like a halo, and you're looking up at Hyunjin with these sinfully gorgeous eyes, wide and wanting, pooling with lust. He's sure he doesn't look any better though, just as effected as you in this whole endeavor.

Hyunjin finally lets up, taking his hands back and pulling himself away to take his shirt off. You whine at the loss, but it's soon quieted as you gasp upon seeing Hyunjin without a shirt.

“Jinnie you never told me you worked out…” And for some reason, you sound sad, as if you really were upset that Hyunjin never told you. He pulls off his pants too, letting both articles of clothing fall somewhere on his floor as he moves back to you.

“Baby, are you sure you're ready?” He asks, pausing with his hands on your waist. You thrash, “Jinnie if you don't fuck me right now.” He huffs, trying to sound intimidating but it just comes out as weak and breathless.

Hyunjin's eyes darken, hands working quickly as they rip off your pant and underwear down in one motion, tossing them on the floor and exposing his glistening cunt. “Or what? Hmm Y/N? What are you gonna do if I don't fuck you?” His grip tightens on your hips, blunt nails digging into the soft skin.

There's no bravado in your voice as he speaks, it's lost the longer Hyunjin stares at you with a gaze so hungry and primitive. “I’ll go find someone else.” It's said as a whisper, because it's the furthest thing from the truth—you don't want anyone else other than your Hyunjin to fuck you.

Hyunjin seems to think it's funny, for he tosses his head back in laughter, hands absentmindedly reaching for the fabric that's left on your body.

“We both know you wouldn't even dream of that. ‘Cause you're such a loyal kitten, yeah?” Hyunjin mutters the last part directly into your ear, hot breath hitting the shell and sending a shiver down your spine.

You squeak, Hyunjin's hands finding purchase under your shirt where your chest meets your torso. You nod your head fervently, eyes closing.

Hyunjin only chuckles, crowding into your space. “Yeah, that's right. You're my good girl, aren't you?” It's rhetorical, but you can't help the small, shaky ‘yes’s you let out as Hyunjin kisses down your neck. He pokes his tongue out, letting it taste the subtle saltiness of your skin. Hyunjin sucks harshly at your collarbone, you whimper at the feeling.

“Jinnie. please. Do something…” Your just so desperate. You've been kissing and touching for what feels like hours: Hyunjin has been teasing you for too long and now you're brimming with desire.

When the first tear spills down your cheek, Hyunjin finally takes mercy on you.

“Shh, baby let Jinnie take care of you.” Hyunjin mutters into the furnace that is your skin, pecking the side of your mouth before moving down your body and settling between your legs.

You feel your cunt throb with a fresh spurt of slick as Hyunjin breathes hotly against your folds, just looking. His hands are supporting the underside of your thighs, pushing them up and apart to get a better view.

“Fuck kitty, you're dripping.” And the worst part is that Hyunjin is right. You can feel your arousal as it runs down your legs, it's the dirtiest you've ever felt but you're much too turned on to care.

You're just about to whine for attention again when you feel something warm and hot licking over your clit.

Hyunjin doesn't waste time, sparing you no warning before he abruptly licks a thick stripe up your slit, lapping at the juices that coat your pussy. He groans at the taste, always knowing you would be sweet.

Unable to resist the urge to voice his opinions, Hyunjin speaks his mind. “You taste so good, Y/N.” He hums into you, your pussy clenching around nothing at the praise.

“Jinnie…” You whisper, broken and weak. When Hyunjin looks up at you, your eyes are closed, and your face is drawn up tightly.

Hyunjin sucks harshly at your clit, thighs twitching in his hold. “Ah!” You gasp, your hands instantly moving from their grip on the duvet to lightly grabbing at Hyunjin's hair.

Hyunjin can barely hold back the sounds he’s making, small groans and hums leaving his mouth and vibrating against your entrance as he moves to focus more on it.

Swirling his tongue around the soft hole, he lets your legs rest on his shoulders. You sound so heavenly like this, moaning and whimpering, so fucked out just after a few touches.

His hands massage the skin between your thighs and ass, going back to sucking your clit like candy. Above him, your hands tighten their grip, only serving to spur Hyunjin on.

He flicks his tongue over the swollen bud, pink and puffy with need over and over, making your stomach heave.

“Hyunjin! Ah—Jinnie, so s’good.” You babble, lips shiny and wet with saliva. Hyunjin moans at the sight of drool escaping your mouth and slowly dripping down your chin, feeling his dick throb in his boxers.

He licks into you as if he's been starved his entire life, tongue lapping hungrily over your clit as his nails dig into the soft flesh of your ass. Your legs shake on his shoulders as Hyunjin lets out a long hum, a gasp leaving your mouth at the vibrations. “Hyunjin!” You wail.

In response, Hyunjin presses a wide lick from your entrance to your clit, hooking his tongue around the bud and swirling it around in firm circles. You jolt, the feeling like no other as you moan helplessly.

“Such a good girl, your cunt’s so sweet.” He chuckles, voice gruff as he repeats the action. You are flushed a bright red, cheeks splotchy as tears run down them beautifully.

When your eyes meet, it's heavy, filled with emotion. Your voice is strained as you call for Hyunjin. “Jinnie.” You manage, letting one hand go from Hyunjin's hair in search of one of his own hands.

Hyunjin obliges immediately, slotting your hands together lovingly above your stomach. It's a stark contrast to the way he plunges his tongue back into your sopping entrance, licking up the slick that's now covering his mouth and chin.

He can feel you begin to spasm around him, plush thighs squeezing his head and neck. It’s so hot how you're so desperate, chasing your orgasm as Hyunjin continuously brings you further and further along.

“C’mon baby, be good and cum for Jinnie.” He can feel as you start to crumble, breath becoming much heavier as your eyes start to flutter, moans higher in pitch as you arch your back to push yourself further into Hyunjin's mouth. But it's the next line that really pushes him over the edge.

“Cum for me kitty.” Your mouth is frozen open in a silent scream, air caught in your lungs as your cumming on Hyunjin's face unabashedly. Your body shakes through the process, pussy clenching and unclenching around the elder's tongue in spasmed rhythms.

Hyunjin coaxes you through it all, letting you ride out your high by swallowing every last drop of your release. He doesn't stop until you push his head away with a trembling hand.

When Hyunjin comes up from his spot between your legs, he's met with your glassy eyes looking up at him with a sad look. “‘n/n what's wrong? Did I go too far? Was it too much?” He worries, words slipping from his mouth at a fast pace as his hands come up to cup your warm cheeks.

You shake your head. “Jin, you haven't come yet.” You mumble, pointing down to the very obvious boner he’s sporting. Hyunjin only laughs, thankful that he hadn't overstepped.

“It's okay pretty, I just wanted you to feel good.” Hyunjin assures, kissing your swollen lips sweetly. But it seems like it was the wrong thing to say because now your whining into his mouth.

Pulling away with wide eyes, Hyunjin gives you a curious look. “I want you to…” You look away, blushing furiously, and Hyunjin decides he will be having none of that, turning your head his way again.

“Want me to what?” He pushes, eyes now teasing and expectant. You wriggle in his grip, squirming under the heated gaze.

“‘Wan you to cum on me…” It's barely even a whisper, but Hyunjin still hears, breaking out into a large grin as you look away yet again.

Hyunjin lets go of your face, settling himself between the younger’s legs again. “Yeah? Is that what the kitty wants?” He drawls lowly, reaching into his boxers and releasing his cock from its restraints. He won’t last long at all, his cock is a violet red and it stands up tall, slapping against his stomach.

Gasping when you see the length, you can't help but imagine what it would look like to fit that inside you, what would it feel like. You always knew Hyunjin would be big, but this reaches new lengths.

Hyunjin sees the inner turmoil inside your mind. “Don't worry. Next time, I’ll open you up real nice for me.” He hums, wrapping his hand around the girth and sliding it against the wet surface of your still swollen pussy. Flinching at the sensation, you wince as the head of his cock rubs on his clit so deliciously.

Just as he had thought, it barely takes Hyunjin anything to come, the image of you biting his plump lips and looking up at him while your legs are spread so prettily is more than enough for him to be spilling over his hand with white, hot ropes squirting onto your folds with a loud groan.

He lays himself on top of you after that, careful of his weight but still cuddling into you. You were just so warm and soft. You can't blame him.

“I love you.” Hyunjin blurts into the hot skin of your neck, wrapping his arms around your waist and holding you tight. You giggle in his arms, placing a shy kiss on Hyunjin's temple.

“I love you too.”

[judasgot-it]

Hold Me Tight (and Don't Forget Me)

Scenario: Dazai takes you out on a date the day he's arrested. Slight Warning for Jouno being an ass.

Hold Me Tight - BTS

Pt. 2

1.3 k word count

Blue skies and perfect weather - the worst, because that meant that today would be the perfect day before Dazai would ruin it once again.

It was a strange feeling to have. It was too peaceful, like a flock of seagulls waiting to be chased.

There was nothing wrong. And that was what was wrong with it.

"Dazai. Did you do something?"

You knew it was impossible to ask Dazai these questions and get an honest answer - your ability didn't work on him, so it was only a force of habit to want to interrogate him.

In response, he only smiled, like a cat that was too high for the barking dog. It made your skin bristle every time, but today he was handsy - he smoothed down your sleeves, easing your nerves with a gentle touch.

"I didn't do anything that you need to worry about. We're supposed to be focused on us, remember?"

His grin was honest, almost charming. He sipped his coffee rather loudly to make his point, drinking as if to remind you with force that you were in a diner, not at the Armed Detective Agency.

"Well, yes. But I know you, and you're only hiding the inevitable. You can tell me Dazai, we are dating."

It was weak to pull a card like that with him, but it was always worth a shot anyway. As if dating would make a difference in how Dazai acted.

The man was a mystery, sitting in front of you in his casual attire - nicer because for once, he had washed them for this occasion. He looked put together as well, hair nicely done and his face looking as a man in his younger 20s should.

He typically looked a little disheveled, hidden behind his charisma but noticeable with anyone who cared for appearances. A good smile managed to hide a lot of things, and for once you didn't need to think about it.

In your mind, you knew that something was wrong from this. The last time he had taken you out like this, he had known he would almost die from an ability user, and it was his apology beforehand.

The strange sense of doom was disconcerting; but so was Dazai's cold skin. He was always bouncing so quickly between temperatures as if he were a broken heater - but being cold? On such a warm day?

"I know we are. Just enjoy yourself babe, can't you do that for me?"

His smile was warm, enough to reach his chestnut eyes - treated with a light varnish from the sunlight penetrating the windows. Whatever warmth his body did have, he must have given it to you through that smile, because now you felt just a little hot.

"I don't like you sometimes."

You averted from his gaze, still holding onto his hand despite this. Dazai didn't say anything, his fingers gently tracing patterns along the hair on your wrists.

"Your face says otherwise. Looks like you're loving my company."

He leaned in closer, careful of your plates, pulling your face to match his. It was easier to kiss him than to say you had lost.

But still, something was wrong.

Dazai kissed you as if he would walk out like this was his last dinner. It wasn't hungry and yet it wasn't polite - it was desperate and it felt like an apology for a crime he hadn't even committed yet.

Or maybe one he already had.

-

It was only the middle of the day when Dazai had decided that a good way to spend your time would be horse betting.

Gambling seemed like an odd place to have a date, but it hadn't been the worst one of his ideas. At least it was outside, and it made for good conversation - even as he insisted on staying as close to the crowd as possible.

Dazai had thrown around some big money - enough to make you worried he was going to actually kill himself tonight.

He was just...strange. As the races had gone on, he had become more and more nervous, fumbling with his pockets and becoming a sort of weird handsy with you - as if you wouldn't notice the strange clamminess his skin had become.

Cold and sweaty, a strange feeling on Dazai.

You were left stuck in deep thought as you stared at the pale white horse Dazai had bet on, a bold '9' staring right back at you.

"Excuse me"

A soft and polite voice had broken you out of your thoughts, forcing you to look away from the race - you had won, and a little bit of relief was felt knowing that Dazai was at least lucky enough to have not blown his last three paychecks on horse racing.

"Would either of you happen to know who won this race?"

His eyes were closed, while his smile seemed...off. Your ability was near constant in your mind, and you could feel how wrong this man was. He didn't really care which horse won that race.

"Number 9 won." In your silence, Dazai responded for you, smiling as if this were an idle conversation. He hadn't seemed to notice the scheming mask the man wore, like a fox ready to jump for the canary.

"So you won then, right? You seem quite pleased with yourself after all."

"Wow! How'd you know all of that?"

You tried to lean closer to Dazai, almost feeling how wrong the man was. It was almost like he knew something you didn't, and it was disturbing to you. His smile practically was still friendly, nothing wrong. But it felt almost as cutting as a knife.

"After I had lost my sight, I had gained new senses - I can hear your heart rates, smell your fear, and even feel your future in my back pocket."

Swiftly, the man had handcuffed himself to Dazai, revealing a pair of sharp canines behind his wicked smile.

"And I know that you, Osamu Dazai, are going to be arrested for 138 counts of conspiracy to murder, 312 counts of extortion, and 625 counts of assorted fraud. I could keep going, but I feel like your fiancé has heard more than enough."

Dazai turned to you, his face paler than the cumulonimbus clouds that towered the sky behind you. By his expression alone, you could tell he had no idea that this would happen.

"Wait, hold on-"

You held onto Dazai's arm desperately, reaching for the handcuffs that were beginning to tear him apart from you. This felt like a dream turning into a nightmare, and that you were running too slow.

"I'm a Hunting Dog. I know more than enough about you as well, and your ability should have told you that I'm not a liar like Mr. Dazai here."

Maybe that was why he felt so off. It was more than just the way he said horrible things - over 100 counts of murder, with complete and utter truth.

"Y/n."

Dazai looked back at you with a solem look. There were so many emotions in your head, that you could only focus on the words that had come out of his mouth.

"I love you. Don't forget that, okay?"

Abruptly, you felt him pry your fingers off of his jacket, and look back to the Hunting Dog who had arrested him.

"There's no chance of escaping you, is there?"

"Even if you're hiding in the crowd, I would just kill them. I can take liberties with human life. I can kill your darling too, if you don't start walking."

Numbly, you watched as Dazai left. As if it were a dream, you were stuck in place, unable to chase after him and tell him to stop and even explain how the hell he had gotten into this situation.

You hadn't even gotten the other man's name, not so you could curse him out for taking your love away. There wasn't even the chance to scream.

It was a horribly numb feeling, stuck there in that moment, watching as Dazai walked further and further away from you.

Sorry, had this idea for a while. I was gonna use this song for Jouno, then Nikolai, then GOJO but ended up being a depressing Dazai fic once again....sigh.

[bonny-kookoo]

Jungkook

W.D.Y.W.F.M [Prelude]

Jungkook could've adopted anybody else, really. He's gotten to know a lot of hybrids left and right during his time at the carecenter and foster homes- low maintenance ones, friendly ones, ones that are easy to be around. So why would he want you?

Tags/Warnings: Idol!Jungkook, Hybrid!Reader, Fox Hybrid!Reader, mentions of trauma, Reader isn't cute & cuddly in this at all, manhandling (not the spicy kind), sort of brat-tamer Jungkook but not in the kinky way if that makes sense? This is set about four years back when he didn't have any tattoos nor facial piercings since this is a prelude to the main story

Length: 3.4k words

THERE IS NO TAGLIST FOR THIS FIC!

A/N: so many were upset I'm not writing any more hybrid jk stories so yum yum the appetizer is served hope you're hungry

-> Masterlist

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Jeon Jungkook is stupid.

You don't like him, you don't like his staff running around, you don't like his managers eyeing you constantly like you're some serial killer waiting to strike. It's not like you've got any issue with him- you just don't like people like him, easy and simple. Idols have been at this shelter before, and all of them have simply taken some photos, played around with the toddlers or easy to handle hybrids, before they'd leave and take all the plus points for their image.

It's pretty much a running joke amongst more permanent residents like you are- because funnily enough, all Idols prior have all had some sort of scandal before they'd filmed here. From bullying allegations, to dating rumors or even drug scandals- you wonder what he's got caught up in to end here.

But honestly, what's it to you anyways.

You can see him look at you with his stupid round eyes, a caretaker next to him explaining something while motioning towards her neck. They're probably talking about your bright red collar that you have to wear whenever you've got visitors like him- a warning sign that'll hopefully keep him at distance from you, because you really don't want to deal with his shit at all. He's the first male Idol that's come here in a long time, so he might try and act tough- but god knows you won't let him have that.

You won't be used ever again.

Your look at him with an almost satisfied look when he's held back by the caretaker, his attempt at walking towards you denied by her as she shakes her head and leads him somewhere else. He's looking back at you, and there's an odd look on his face before he turns around and follows her presumably to the younger hybrids.

Good for him.

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Turns out there was no reason for him to be here except pure curiosity on his part.

He's been apparently searching for a hybrid to take in for a bit now, and has decided on his own to improve the shelters reputation by not only donating a huge shit ton of money to it, but also by filming his experience in a more VLog style format. You can see the microphone he has had on his shirt gone at this point, and you're not sure why.

Won't his managers want to listen in on what he says, so they can monitor him?

You're pretty sure he's got his eyes on one of the pretty cat hybrids. Yumi is her name, and you can see why he'd want her- she's incredibly pretty and comes originally from a good home- only given into government care because her owner had to undergo surgery and couldn't take care of her any longer. She's nice- a bit arrogant sometimes, out of touch with reality due to her rather expensive lifestyle, but maybe it'll fit him. He's living the same lavish life as well, after all.

Luxury isn't something you know.

You watch as some hybrids outside play tag, and you wish you could join in. But you can't- you always play too rough the caretakers complain, and most importantly, you're not allowed outside without a caretaker present anyways. So you just huff to yourself, and watch from your spot.

"Do you want something particular for lunch?" Someone asks, and you snap your head around, not having noticed him coming so close. He immediately backs off a step with palms open, an attempt at trying to soothe you. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to startle youm" He apologizes.

You don't answer.

"Miss Kim wanted to know what you wanted for lunch?" He asks again, and you shrug silently. You don't care what you're getting. You stopped caring long ago.

"Dont care." You say, and he's got the audacity to laugh.

"I don't think 'don't care' is on the menu today." He jokes.

You don't react. He doesn't seem fazed. His joke is lame. Does this shit work usually for him? Probably, but they only laugh because he's got the money.

He takes your silence as your conversation finished, and so he just nods respectfully, before leaving you be again.

And at lunch, you notice that you've got a bit more rice than usual in your bowl.

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Jungkook is loud.

He laughs a lot, plays with many hybrids without any sense of how he looks like, doesn't seem to be bothered by any of it. But he's also started to talk to you, and you honestly don't know if you like or hate it.

"Come on, everyone's got a favorite food." Jungkook laughs, having sat down with you today instead of the other hybrids. You're not sure why. The cameras aren't even running, he's not vlogging anything, no microphone attached to him. Or maybe that's exactly why he wants to interact with you now. Cause you're not pretty enough to be in one of his idol videos.

You shrug, not answering him. "..dunno." You mumble, before you look at one of the careworkers accepting the daily food delivery from a worker. "Chicken? Maybe.." You say, just so he can finally shut up and leave. But he doesn't.

He instead smiles, probably even fueled now that you've interacted with him. Well, fuck.

"Ah, I like chicken too." He agrees. "Very good choice. I think you're having Chicken for dinner today?" He wonders, and you nod, more or less to yourself, holding onto your tail. "How long have you been here?" He asks, and you shrug again.

"Dunno." You answer, yet again. "Long." You say.

"Never had been adopted?" He wonders, and you scoff.

"No one want's something like me." You say, picking at your tail. "Not when there's.. so many pretty cats and dogs around.. that don't tear up furniture n' stuff." You say with a pout, making him smile in sympathy.

The careworkers have already told him about you. Where you came from, how long you've been here, why you'll probably stay here- you came here very young from an exotic breeding program, stayed here because of severe behavioral issues. No one wants to deal with you- just like you said.

Jungkook himself however, feels different. You just seem a bit lost, out of place, unsure of everything. With a bit of work, a leading hand, and a good environment, you'd surely blossom into a lovely companion.

Though, hours later, he's confronted with what 'severe behavioral issues' can mean.

You're up in a tree.

It's by your own choice- you love being up here, where no one can do anything but watch as you're out of reach. It's a little moment of control you get, a tiny glimpse of choice- but of course, this stupid idol boy has to ruin that for you.

Most caretakers are either too old or too short to reach you- but Jungkook is neither of those things, as he grabs a small step ladder and reaches out to you. "Please come down, okay?" He says. "No one's mad-" he tries, but you don't let him.

"Bullshit." You scoff at him, moving your foot away from his reaching hand. "They're all pissed I'm up here." You huff angrily.

"No, they're all worried that you're up here." He corrects you. "We don't want you to fall down and hurt yourself-"

"I won't." You simply say. "I'm capable enough."

"I believe you." He says, making you falter a bit in your aggressive state. "But I also think that you should come down." He tells you.

"Well, and I think I'll stay up here." You deny, turning to climb even higher.

It's when his hand grabs your ankle.

"Hey!" You hiss, trying to pull away- but fuck, he's strong.

"I'm sorry, but you're not leaving me with much choice." He apologizes, before pulling, effectively getting you out of the short tree, pulling your body against his as he steps down from the ladder. He can feel something scratch his biceps- probably you, since you're actively trying as hard as you can to escape his grip. It's not the typical tamper tantrum a toddler would do- no. He knows this type of behavior.

It's fear.

So he makes sure to hold onto you even when back inside, making sure you don't just run off and possibly try and escape through the backyard again- caretakers closing the doors before he even thinks about letting go of you. It makes him think if you just simply aren't used to close physical contact at all- because you're trembling, while simultaneously frozen solid.

What happened to you to make you this way?

"I'm sorry, okay?" He tells you, but you don't answer- not that he'd expected you to. "Just wanted to let you know." He hums, before he loosens his grip, letting you instantly stumble away, hurrying out of everyone's sight and into one of the hiding tents set up for the more anti-social hybrids.

And he doesn't see you for the rest of the day.

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The next day, he's not even properly in yet, when he's already being talked to about what happened yesterday- mainly cause the careworker probably saw him search for you amongst the tired hybrids waking up from their naps.

"She refused to eat dinner after you left." The careworker tells him as he puts his bag down, and Jungkook lowers his brows in confusion.

"Why?" He wonders, unsure. You're not very attached to him, rarely interact openly with anybody let alone him- and he's realized it might simply be because you don't like him and his rather bubbly personality that much.

"I think it might be self-punishment for what happened yesterday." She sighs, pointing to the large bandaid covering his biceps- your scratch no longer hurting at all, the cover just on it for hygiene's sake. "She feels guilty."

"But it wasn't her fault?" He asks, not sure why you'd take the blame for things so far out of your control. "I knew what I'd potentially get myself into when I offered to bring her back inside- and she didn't get me that bad anyways." He shrugs, and the worker nods.

"Well, she certainly doesn't see it that way." She says, giving Jungkook his name tag and vest so he can start his last week, cameras at this point no longer really filming much since they've got plenty of content to work with. "You did great, honestly- handled her really well, but she might feel embarrassed now that you've witnessed her outbursts on yourself rather than just from afar." She explains, and he sighs to himself. He instantly searches for you amongst the hybrids, greeting almost everyone fleetingly as his eyes scan the environment.

He spots you sitting in a corner, observing rather than joining in- just like you always do.

"Hey-" he carefully squats down a respectful distance away from you, casually patting his bandaid once he spots you staring at it. "-all by yourself again?" He wonders, and you just shrug.

You don't answer him, crossing your arms instead.

"Heard you skipped dinner yesterday." He asks casually, sitting down now to engage in conversation. He knows that you get antsy when confronted like this- but you have to learn somehow. Everyone just wrapping you in cotton won't help you long term.

"Wasn't hungry." You mumble, avoiding eye contact. Why does he have to talk to you? This is stupid.

"Lie." He chuckles. "You were talking about how much you liked chicken to me yesterday." He calls you out, and you just pull your knees closer to yourself, tail wrapping around them as well. "You didn't hurt me much at all, you know?" He offers softly after some time of just observing you.

"…still." You argue quietly, shaking your head. "Yumi is looking-"

"But I'm talking to you right now." Jungkook disagrees amused, keeping his attention on you. "You're not a bad person." He tells you, and you grow angry suddenly. Not at him- but at yourself, because why are you such a crybaby that you're crying about a simple sentence like that? He probably doesn't even mean it, he just says it for his stupid media-stunt he's pulling. "You wanna go eat breakfast with me?" He wonders, and you shake your head. "Too bad." He chuckles, reaching out his hand to touch your wrist, simply tapping his fingers against it. "Come on, up up, I'm hungry." He says, getting up-

But you don't follow.

"I don't want to." You deny, and he sighs, leaving you be. It's fine like this- you don't need him to play some sort of Savior for you, not at all. He can show off his kindness to his fan base or whatever, you don't really care at all. He's living his life, while you'll live yours- no matter how bland it might be.

A bowl is placed at your feet, another plate with a lot of food placed down as well. "Didn't know what you wanted so-" he explains, before sitting down again in front of you. "-I just got whatever I myself eat." He shrugs casually, starting to grab the first bite.

"Your microphone isn't on." You comment, pointing to the front of his shirt where it would typically sit.

"I know." He simply answers nonchalantly, continuing to eat. You start to lift your hand to bite at your fingers, and he reaches out without fear to gently pull your wrist away from your face, before pointing to the food. "Eat. Or do you want something else?" He wonders, but you shake your head.

You are hungry.

"…'m sorry." You tell him with a crack in your voice, and he nods at you with a smile.

"I know." He answers truthfully, reaching out to tap one of your droopy ears. "But you don't have to be." He shrugs, unknowingly surprising a careworker watching from the sidelines. You're pretty jumpy with contact- you hate fast movements, loud noises, sudden things you're not prepared for. He himself notices as well- the way you flinch on instinct as he reaches out to you.

But you don't immediately try and defend yourself against him, and that's new.

Jungkook has, up until this point, simply never given you any reason to fear him. He's not very careful, very fidgety, and a little loud whenever he gets excited- but he's also gentle, and doesn't hold any bad intentions.

Though that doesn't mean that you trust him- at least not yet.

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"I don't wanna." You deny, as he holds out your bright red collar to you. "Go take Yumi." You huff, and he sighs, letting his head hang for a second before he picks himself up.

"I don't want to go out with Yumi, I wanna go out with you." He makes sure to emphasize, holding the collar out again. "So let's go outside." He offers.

"Outside is.." You look out the window. It's sunny, pretty warm, a light breeze. There's no reason to not go outside- except one. "I.. get too excited." You say quietly, shrinking in on yourself.

"That's what the collar is for." He gently tells you. "So we can track you if you get lost- though I'll keep my eye on you at all times." The idol tells you in a playfully warning tone, making you look at him.

"What if I bite you?" You ask, and he shrugs. "Or scratch you again-"

"Then that's on me." He says, putting the collar forwards again. "You're so scared of yourself, and I want you to see that there's no reason for it." He tells you.

"There's plenty of reasons." You start arguing.

"Okay, listen." His voice is suddenly holds a lot more.. authority, and it makes your ears stand up, whole body a bit tense. "Do you want to go outside, yes or no." He asks.

"I can-" You start, he shakes his head.

"Yes or no." He demands, and you look at him with ears down low now in clear submission.

"…yes." You answer, and he chuckles, not just because you're so cute, but because that small little thing he did with you pretty much tells him everything he needs to know about you. So he carefully reaches out and clips the collar around your neck, before he gets up to open the door, going outside with you.

And not even an hour in, he realizes what you meant with 'too excited'.

It's absolutely adorable.

You're chirping at the birds in the trees, ocassionally having to be reminded that no, you can't climb them, and other times you run off to hunt a stray squirrel or two- but you're not difficult to handle for him, really. Especially once he brings out a rubber ball to kick, you get absolutely hyper, running after it and kicking it back and forth with him, tail wagging and your laughter filling the garden.

But it's only after you both play tag, you running into him as you catch him, both of you lying in the grass with heavy breathing that he realizes that he's found what he'd been looking for. You're still so full of happy excitement that you probably don't even realize you're hugging him, clinging onto him with a wagging tail, and he's sure that yes-

you're the one.

You're perfect for him.

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"Huh?" You ask, completely caught off guard.

Sure, you've both gotten closer overall during the few weeks he's been here- going outside, even going shopping together as some sort of 'desensitization activity', eating together- and yeah, you've grown to like him, actually. But he's talking about fostering. And fostering is the first step towards permanent adoption.

Why would he want you?

"I want to take you home with me. See how you'll like it." He simply says, leaning on his hands behind his back, casually giving you the news. "I'll have some schedules, so it'll be pretty much exactly how it'd be if I was to permanently take you home- and I wanna see if you're cool with that." He explains.

"But.." You start, unsure. "What if I-" You start, and he dramatically lets himself fall onto the floor.

"I've got insurance for my home, if you break something we'll fix it or replace it, if you bite me I'll bite you back, if you scratch me I'll put a bandaid on it, if you run off I'll tag you with my phone app. Did I miss anything?" He asks, and you look at him with furrowed brows.

"You'll bite me back?" You ask confused, and he laughs.

"Yep!" He simply says. "So?" He wonders, and you shrug.

"I can't.. really tell you what to do." You mumble, again not looking at him.

"Hey." He suddenly says, pulling on the tip of your tail- something that he knows isn't something anyone can do without risking a reaction from you. "Look at me." He demands gently, and you do, though it's slightly awkward with him laying on the floor like that. Still, he manages to make you feel his dominance- not physically, but different. Mentally. "Do you want to come home with me, yes or no. You know the game at this point." He chuckles.

"…yes." You softly answer, and he grins at that.

Instantly getting up to get all the paperwork ready.

[roosterforme]

Two to Tango Part 3 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley wants to put some distance between you and his growing feelings, unless there's a chance you feel the same way.

Warnings: Adult banter, swearing, smut, angst, fluff

Length: 3000 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

Check my masterlist for more Top Gun fun.

Part 2

Bradley lay in bed for a long time, unable to relax. He thought sleeping with you would be good for his confidence. He had been devastatingly wrong. Now he knew what the problem was; he liked you, but you had made it abundantly clear that you did not return those feelings.

It's just sex. Damn it. He barely knew anything about you, but he was still interested. Now a mixture of embarrassment and annoyance was taking up residence in his stomach. That was not just sex to him. That had been a continuation of the little cat and mouse flirtation that the two of you had been playing at. It was him showing you how much he liked you and wanted to make you feel good.

He had imagined sleeping over with you, or at least snuggling for a while if you didn't want to risk anyone seeing him in the morning. And while you hadn't exactly booted him out, you never asked him to stay. You only wanted to make plans for another booty call. 

He should have just knocked on Killer's door and gotten his ass kicked. It would hurt less than this. 

When he finally managed to fall asleep, it felt like his alarm was immediately jolting him awake again. 

Wednesday morning. Only three days left before he could head back to San Diego on Saturday morning. He would just focus on his daily tasks like he was supposed to instead of chasing after a younger woman who didn't actually give a shit about him as long as she got laid well.

Nat had been telling him to stop selling himself short, but this just seemed to reiterate that he probably wasn't made for much more than this.

He got to breakfast so early, that he thankfully didn't have to sit or talk with anyone else. And then he took a walk outside until just before the lecture started, only breezing into the room as the teacher was walking to the podium. Bradley dropped into the seat next to you without glancing in your direction. If you thought this was odd, you didn't show any outward signs of it for the entire three hours you sat next to him.

On the way to the tarmac for the competition portion of the day, you strolled up alongside Bradley, your helmet gripped in your hands.

"You going to stop by again tonight, sweetheart?" you asked him, voice steady as you stared straight ahead. 

Bradley let himself feel like shit for a beat, but then he shook his head. "Nah," he told you without looking at you. "I'm not interested in doing the walk of shame again, Tango. But thanks anyway." As much as he wanted to see your reaction, he kept his eyes facing forward and kept his gait casual as he neared his aircraft. It felt good to stand up for himself like this.

"I guess can always see if Coyote is free. He's never called me incompetent before, and he's hot too." 

Bradley came to an immediate stop and rounded on you, but your face was calm, placid.

"Seriously?" he growled. His nostrils were flaring and his body was tense, and he couldn't even figure out why this mattered so much.

You just raised and eyebrow and shrugged in response. 

"Tango, are you trying to make me jealous, or do you just really not give a fuck about me at all?" 

Bradley watched your lips part soundlessly as you shrunk away from him a little bit. The look on your face was something akin to silent panic, but Bradley wasn't going to tolerate getting no verbal answer from you.

"If you want Coyote, then by all means, feel free. But if you just think it's funny to fuck with my feelings, then don't talk to me."

When you still didn't answer, he muttered, "Unbelievable," and started up his ladder.

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Bradley ended up flying like his tail was on fire. He was so irritated, he posted the best time of the day by several seconds, which should have been unheard of. 

"Damn, Bradshaw," Jake drawled, "that was impressive. Didn't know you had it in you."

When Bradley just grunted in return on the way to the locker rooms, Phoenix said, "He must be in a bad mood. Always flies like that when he's pissed off." 

Phoenix rubbed Bradley's shoulder as he actively avoided looking at you. He was leading you in points now, but he didn't really care too much. He just shoved through the locker room door, already unzipping his flight suit and undressing before he was at the showers. 

He needed to calm down. He couldn't let you determine his behavior for him. But as the hot water washed over him, his mind drifted to last night, before you had ruined his mood. 

You were too close to what he was looking for. Smart, beautiful, confident and interested in him. Or so he had thought. 

He took some deep breaths, forcing himself to calm down, and he finished getting dressed.

As he made his way to the cafeteria for dinner, he saw you walking ahead of him. Laughing. With Coyote. He was half tempted to sneak off and order a pizza again, but you had already spotted him. So he strolled into the cafeteria, collected an enormous amount of food for himself, and sat down across from Phoenix and Hangman.

When Coyote greeted them and sat down next to Bradley, he just grunted in response.

"Thought you'd be in a good mood. You smoked the rest of us," Javy said as he started eating. "And you have the most points. And Tango is super into you."

Bradley just continued to forcefully mix up his mashed potatoes and gravy before he paused and raised his eyes to look at Javy. "Is she?" 

"That's what she told me," Javy said with a soft laugh. "She told me she likes your ridiculous mustache."

"Huh," Bradley grunted, getting a forkful of potato halfway to his mouth before his hand drifted to a halt. Now he was even more confused. "She really said that?"

Javy nodded and ducked his head. "Yeah. She also told me to tell you that you could have stayed in her room longer if you wanted to last night."

Bradley watched Jake and Nat both choke on their food before turning around in his seat to look at you. His eyes immediately met yours across the room, and you simply raised one hand and wiggled your fingers in his direction. Of course then Killer turned around in his seat to glare at Bradley, which made you start laughing. It was a pretty sound that Bradley could hear across the cafeteria. 

"Shit," Bradley muttered. Okay, so maybe he hadn't been fair to you earlier. Maybe you just needed time to warm up to him. And perhaps he shouldn't have jumped in bed with you at the first opportunity. 

But as he made his way back to his tiny room, removing his tee shirt when he got there, he decided he wasn't going to your room tonight. If you had used Javy to pass along your message to make Bradley feel more confident, that was one thing. But he wasn't so pathetic as to show up at your room like a lost puppy. No, he wanted you to tell him yourself that you were interested in his ridiculous mustache. 

So he kicked off his shoes and dropped down onto his bed, just as there was a knock at the door. He stood up and unlocked the door in just his jeans, and there you were. 

"Nice flying today, old man."

He searched your face for answers but came up short. "Thanks. I take it Coyote wasn't free tonight?" he asked cautiously.

"You and I both know I was never going to ask him."

Bradley's heart started pounding. "So will you be the one doing the walk of shame tonight?"

"If you kick me out, then yes." You stepped into his personal space and let your palms rest softly on his abs. Bradley slowly backed up into his room and you followed as the door closed. 

"I heard you like my mustache."

You smiled up at him. "I really do, sweetheart. And I must be crazy. You've called me incompetent and inept, and you yelled at me on the tarmac today. But I'm still here."

Bradley nodded his head in apology. "And it's not just sex?"

You shook your head slowly. "Listen, I don't usually do the getting attached thing. It never ends well. But I shouldn't have told you that it was just sex, because it clearly was not."

Bradley's lips crashed against yours and you were scrambling into his arms. 

"Listen," he murmured against your lips between kisses. You moved your mouth to his neck and he said, "I'm kind of at the point where I'd like to get attached enough that you'll at least talk to me." 

"Mmm, okay," you told him as you kissed your way down to his collarbone where you licked and sucked on him. 

"So how about if I can make you cum so good again, you stay and tell me how old you are, and where you're from, and why you joined the air force, and why you're in my room right now?"

When your lips released his skin and you looked up at him with wide eyes, you said, "Okay, old man. And you can tell me how fucking old you are, too."

Bradley scooped you up and sat on the edge of his bed, pulling you down on top of him when he leaned back against the pillows. "I'm thirty-six," he told you, and you straddled his waist, pressing your chest to his. 

You let your hand drift down between his body and your baggy shirt, gently stroking him and turning him on. You kissed his ear and whispered, "You're ten years older than me. I cannot believe I am this attracted to an old man who is rude to me. I really think it's the mustache."

Bradley groaned as you nibbled on his earlobe, still working your hand down until you were squeezing him through his jeans. "You wanna feel my mustache on your pussy again?" 

The moan that escaped your lips directly next to his ear was enough to make him dizzy. He yanked your shirt off and quickly removed your bra as well. As he stroked his fingers along your breasts, he whispered, "Come on, Tango. Sit on my face."

Your hesitant smile melted into a lip biting grin, and you were instantly squirming out of your shorts and tiny underwear and shimmying up his body. "Make me cum," you commanded, and Bradley hoisted you into position with his hands gripping your thighs and your wet core riding his mouth.

You kept eye contact with him while he ate you out, your fingers alternating between roughly gripping his hair by the roots and softly caressing his forehead. 

"Oh, feels so good," you whined as he sucked on you, and soon you were riding his face. You were moving against him in a steady rhythm, the buildup to your orgasm making you whine louder. 

Bradley could feel your thighs shaking as you started to squeeze them against his face. He pulled your clit between his lips and used his tongue to make you scream, and you rode his face until you were almost in hysterics.

When you collapsed against him, wrung out and boneless, Bradley gently eased you down next to him. 

"Holy shit," you gasped, curling up against his side. "You look so pretty with your face all wet, old man." Bradley thought he was going to cum in his jeans when you started licking and kissing all of the wetness from your pussy off of his face and mustache. 

"You liked that?" he asked once you were softly kissing his lips. 

"Mmm, yes," you told him, reaching for his dick again, but he stopped you by lacing his fingers with yours. 

"Guess you better answer my questions then," he told you in his sternest voice that had you biting your lip again. 

"You don't want to fuck me first?"

Bradley groaned and kissed along your breasts, pulling you all the way on top of him so you were laying on his chest again. "I think you need a few more minutes to recover. You're twenty six?"

"Yeah, almost twenty seven," you whispered, laying on his pec and playing with his little bit of chest hair. "My birthday is next week." 

"Where are you from?" 

"California. Born and raised. I live on Edwards Air Force Base."

Now Bradley finally felt like he was getting somewhere, you were still melting against him as he rubbed your back. And Edwards was not too far from San Diego.

"You're a hell of a pilot, baby. Why did you join the Air Force? You could have been in the Navy."

You rubbed your cheek against him as you told him all about how your dad and brothers had all been in the Air Force as well, but you were the only one who could hack it as a pilot. "I also knew it was the only way I could pay for college, you know? I'm smart too, old man. I was pre med."

Bradley ran his fingers along the back of your neck, and you shivered against him. "Why are you in my room?"

You sighed softly as he teased your skin. "I like boys who are as sassy as I am. And you're fucking hot, you know, for someone who is so old."

Bradley took you by the chin and tipped your pretty face up so you were looking at him. "I'm not a boy. I'm a man."

You gasped and licked your lips, your bright eyes roaming over his face. 

"Yeah....I noticed."

After Bradley kissed you and stroked your skin until you were begging for him, he fucked you slow and steady, your body spread out beneath him on his bed. 

He worked you over until he felt better, until your rejection from last night was a distant memory. He fucked you until you were whispering his name on the heels of your orgasm. 

You let him cum inside you, which was more intimate than perhaps even the sex had been. Bradley kept himself in you, enjoying the feel of your body as he kissed your lips softly. Your eyelids were slowly drifting open and then closed again between kisses, but you were smiling every time his lips met yours. 

"You sleeping in here with me tonight, Tango?" he asked, placing a soft kiss to the side of your chin. 

You moaned softly, running your fingers through his hair. "I'm too tired to leave, unless you want me to."

"I want you to stay."

A few minutes later, before you started drifting to sleep, you asked Bradley why he had joined the Navy. And when he told you he was stationed at Top Gun, you told him, "Hey, old man, that's not far from Edwards."

"You thinking about keeping me around?"

There were a few beats of silence before Bradley heard you murmur, "I'm taking it into consideration."

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

Bradley woke up at six with your body wrapped around his. You were snoring softly with your head resting on his chest, and you looked so cute, he really didn't want to wake you up. But sunlight had begun to trickle through the window blinds, and Bradley knew it would be another long day of lectures and flying. 

"Tango. Time to get up."

You roused from sleep and arched your back in the most appealing way as you stretched, before curling up tighter against him. "Come on, old man. I'm still tired."

"Did I wear you out?" he asked softly.

You moaned and said, "Maybe a little bit. And now that I know what your voice sounds like first thing in the morning, I am devastated I didn't ask you to sleep over the other night."

Bradley just chuckled and ran his fingers along your cheek for a few minutes. He watched you turn your head to look up at him as you said, "Stop staring. It's rude."

"I can't help it when the scenery is so pretty."

Bradley watched you press your lips together and bury your face against him in embarrassment. When you tried to pull the blanket over your head, he pulled it further off of you. 

"Really? You're embarrassed that I think you're pretty? You about bit my head off on Sunday, but this is what's going to get to you?"

"Shh," you whispered before easing your body higher against his tall frame and kissing his lips. "Stop." But you were smiling as you kissed him. 

"I'm going go tell you all day long how fucking gorgeous you are. It's your kryptonite. It's how I'm going to win," he informed you with a smirk. 

You covered his mouth with your palm in response and shook your head. "Don't you dare. Killer would never let me live it down."

Bradley laughed, and you removed your hand as you started to get out of bed. "I guess I'd better start my walk of shame," you said as you began to gather up your clothing. 

Bradley sat on the edge of the bed, as naked as you were. He watched you get dressed, and he saw your eyes dipping down to his semi-hard cock a few times. "Any chance you'll let me be the one to do the walk of shame tomorrow morning?" he asked.

You leaned down and kissed him once after you put your clothes and shoes on. "Yes."

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

Thankfully Tango has come to her senses! One more part to go!

PART 4

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[jarofstyles]

FICTOBER DAY 12- In My Dreams

FICTOBER Prompt list/masterlist

Patreon

-----

Y/N felt like she had seen a ghost as she looked up in the coffee shop. 

Her job was nice. Making coffee for passive aggressive soccer mom’s wasn’t the highlight of her day, but getting to be out in town and greet her regulars was always a fun time for her. Y/N was a dreamer, but dreaming didn’t make life free- so she had ended up getting a job at the most tolerable place she could find until she could lift her feet off the ground and meet her head in the clouds where all her dreams reside. 

Dreams were a big thing for her. So vivid, so real, especially since moving to the next state over where rent was cheaper and cost of living just slightly less terrifying. The city hadn’t cut it and she needed a place to start over, so returning to suburban life had been a no brainer. Her entire life she had dreams, odd ones, some that plain old scared her, but lately they’d been some of the best she’d ever had. 

Her dreams consisted of going out and living her dream life as an author, only this time it felt real. It felt like she escaped from her daily life by going to sleep. It was odd, and she knew she should probably see a professional from how attached she was to her dream life, but she couldn’t see the harm. She spent days at this cafe as a customer instead, sipping her iced hazelnut coffees and getting a cinnamon bun while she worked on the manuscript, editing, plotting for new books in her head. 

She had a cat in her dreams, one she had always wanted- a flame point ragdoll that let her put tiny pink bows on the top of her head that she named Miffy after her favorite cartoon rabbit. Her new apartment had a large multicolored rug and a view of the downtown, high ceilings and a fireplace. She still didn’t know how it was always turned on when she returned home in dreamland- but she figured it was because of her dream boyfriend. 

Oddly enough, she didn’t know his name. She knew his face, his green eyes and longer nose. She knew his pink mouth and how it tasted, how gentle it could press kisses to her eyelids before she woke up into her real life. She knew his touch, how it was slightly cool and his hands were soft, stroking over her cheek as she told him about her ideas and plans and when she sometimes cried about not wanting to wake up. 

Her dream life was her escape, her wishes come true, and it somehow made the real thing both more tolerable and more hated. Her brain must be giving her a break, but she had no idea how she had made up this man in such detail. To the way he liked his coffee, to his preference in cinnamon to peppermint gum. How he disliked the color coral but loved a soft orange, even choosing it for their shared bedspread. He had become such a fixture in her thoughts that it had begun to ache when she woke up, not seeing him next to her in her bed that wasn’t the one she had fallen asleep in. Y/N’s world just felt somnolent without his arm wrapped around her waist and his gentle humming as she drifted off to ‘sleep’, as much as she tried to fight it. Her eyes always opened anyways. 

H. That’s his name, or at least what he had told her. The dynamic would drive anyone else insane- it even did for her- but she knew that one day she could have something like that. 

He was the sweetest thing, sweeter than cherry pie. A man of few words, simply asking about her day in a hushed voice, questioning her about her likes and dislikes, telling her some trivial facts about him and kissing right between her brows when she came to him with a history question for her historical romance pieces. He said he was a historian, but he was brilliant. Almost as if he had lived through some of the events, retelling portions with passion and giving her real insight into what he believed it would be like for someone at that time. 

An odd man, but someone who she wished desperately was real. 

“Y/N, that guy outside is staring at you.” 

Her coworker interrupted her daydream as she waited for the milk to finish frothing. The trickle of chills slivered down her back as she turned her head to the side in time to see a man walking inside, the chime of the shop bells ringing as the door opened up. 

It felt like her breath was stolen as he stepped past the welcome mat, a hand clad with rings that looked like a picture she knew of brushed through pushed back curls. Her hand shook slightly as she struggled to turn off the milk frother, blinking repeatedly as he approached the counter. Despite the sunglasses, she felt his eyes. They were intense, boring into hers behind the filmed lenses, her stomach twisting and body cold as he finally stood at the counter, plushy lips opening to place an order- but when the glasses came down and those all too familiar green eyes met her own, she felt like she couldn’t breathe. 

What the actual fuck was happening? 

“Vanilla latte, please. With a shot of caramel creamer.”

 His voice was the same, soft and deep as he recited the order she already knew by heart. One she prepared in her dreams a million times- but this was not a dream. Not even if she wished it was. There was a specific euphoric feeling in her dreams and this was not that. Her feet were firmly planted on the ground, even if her head perhaps floated too high.  She knew by the aching of her feet and her splitting headache from the squeaks of the coffee machines and blenders going all day, there was no way this was her dream world. It was just her dream man standing in front of her, eyeing her in a way to say he knew. His eyes were expressive, like they could see into her head. And he knew she was freaking out, but trying to stay calm. 

“I’ve seen you…. You’ve been in my dreams.” Her voice whispered across the counter, her trembling fingers typing the order into the pad as her eyes stayed on his own. “Or I’m crazy.” 

That seemed like the more plausible option, but somehow… she knew she wasn’t.

“You’re not crazy.” He replied, placing the money for his drink into her hand. “You get off in twelve minutes. I’ll wait for you.” 

[oftenwantedafton]

Kismet - Dave Miller/William Afton x Female Reader

Chapter 4

Word Count - 3k

Rating - Explicit

CW - sexual content

Also available on AO3

Dave Miller is waiting for you in the campus parking lot outside of the building you’ve just had your anatomy exam inside.

You can see him leaning against the driver’s side door, his hands shoved into his pockets. Still dressed in his security guard uniform. It’s hot out. You squint against the glare of the sun as you exit, maneuvering your way down the handicapped ramp using the crutches he’d lent you earlier. They’re awkward, a little tricky to get used to, but they do help. Your ankle was actually a lot better today, but you’d also been resting it for awhile now, so you don’t want to push it and ruin the recovery process.

“How did it go?” He greets you when you reach his car.

You draw in a deep breath, then exhale. “I think I did okay. I hope. That was worth a quarter of my grade.”

”I’m sure you did well.” He opens the rear passenger door and you slide the crutches inside across the back seat, followed by your backpack. The vintage luxury sedan had a spacious interior, hailing from an era where things were built bigger, with the intention of showing off, ignoring things like fuel efficiency and compact sizing. Not what you would have envisioned him driving; it just didn’t suit his aesthetic. So at odds with the bike gear, with the sport motorcycle itself.

“So where do you want to go?” You’ve both settled inside the car. The vinyl seats are warm, clinging to the bare skin on the backs of your thighs. You’d worn denim shorts and a tank top today. You don’t know how the older man can stand being so covered up. Maybe something to do with those strange marks he has on him. You want to ask about them, the query nearly forcing its way past your lips on more than one occassion, but you’re still hesitant, uncertain if it was the right time to ask yet.

“You must be tired.” The smudges beneath his eyes still persist. You wonder when the last time he actually got some decent rest was.

“I took a cat nap while you were taking your test. I’m good for now.”

“Let’s go to your house.” You try to make it sound casual, surprising yourself when the words slip out. A little forward, inviting yourself over.

“My house?” A mixture of his own surprise laced with some amusement as well. “On a day like this I thought you’d want to be outdoors.”

“It’s too hot.”

“It’s summer in Utah. It’s always too hot,” he counters.

“Touché.”

“Seriously, though. Where do you want to go?”

You pretend to reconsider, biting your bottom lip, eyes fixing upward. “Mmmm…your house.”

“Okay. If that’s what you really want.” He turns the key in the ignition and the engine roars to life. “Seatbelt on, please.”

“Yeah, yeah.” You drag the nylon strap across your chest, shoving the buckle into place. The material digs into your bare shoulder, pressing between your breasts.

“You’re back to work on Friday, right?” He pulls out of the parking lot, heading north out of the city proper. The opposite direction from where you reside.

“Yes.”

“You think you’re going to be okay getting there?”

“I should be good.”

“Ill give you my number just in case. You should have it anyway.”

“Yeah, I should.” He glances over at you, smirking.

You fuss with the radio for a bit, rummaging with the cassette tapes stashed into the console. A lot of music from the eighties. Something else you don’t recognize shoved way in the back. A large plastic cartridge with a faded peeling label that’s water damaged, the paper wrinkled. “What’s this?”

“Eight track. A largely inferior way to listen to music.”

“So why do you keep it?”

“I had no idea that was there, to be honest.” The car rolls to a stop at the next intersection, the traffic light turning red. “Is this what you’re going to do at my house? Snoop through my things?”

“You said to get to know you. So, this is getting to know you.”

“Hmmm.” He doesn’t sound upset, exactly. Mulling the situation over, perhaps. Deciding what he was willing to reveal.

You toss the item back where you found it. “I know what you did.”

Dave’s eyes snap to your face. “What?”

“They got an anonymous donation of an AC unit at the shelter. That was you, wasn’t it?”

Something like relief washes over the guard’s features, the tense shoulders relaxing. “Oh. That. Yes, that was me. Couldn’t have the bun and the others suffering.”

“What did you think I meant?”

He shrugs. “Nothing. I don’t know.”

Another mystery for you to solve. You tentatively lift each leg off the seat. Sticking already. There was no air conditioning in his car. The windows were rolled down, but with the automobile at a standstill there was no air exchange.

“The downside to vinyl,” he murmurs, seeing your struggles. “There really isn’t an upside. In the winter it’s like sitting on ice.”

“You need a new car.”

“It serves its purpose.”

The light turns green and he shifts his foot from the brake to the gas pedal. At least it was an automatic. You didn’t even know how to drive a standard.

His right hand departs the steering wheel and finds its way to your knee once you’ve left the city behind.

Just a casual reach and drop, that long extremity having no trouble stretching until his fingers close over the bare joint, thumb tracing small circles.

Your body is already reacting. You squirm in your seat, shifting down a little, his hand easing further up with the movement. Now half on bare skin, half on the jean covering. Thumb now worrying at the frayed edges of the hole at the front. Tucking inside. Fingers pressing firmly along your inner thigh. You suck in a deep breath.

You can see the profile of a smile on his features. His eyes never leave the road as his hand meanders further along, stopping just shy of your crotch. Your heart is pounding. Waiting for him to touch the seam there, grind it against you clothed sex.

Instead his hand abandons you, reclaiming its position on the steering wheel and you look at him, mouth open in disbelief.

He shoots you a hurried glance. “What?”

“You know what.”

“There are a lot of turns coming up. I’ll need both hands. We’re almost there,” he adds.

You fold your arms. “Fine. Whatever.”

“Don’t pout.”

“Or what? What are you going to do about it?” Whatever retort he’s readied dies off when you reach over to exact revenge, digging your nails into his thigh. Raking along the inside. You have to lean, you don’t have the length that he does.

“You are…”

“I’m what? What am I?”

He brakes at a stop sign and thumbs the arm of the turn signal even though there are no other cars in sight. The neighborhood looks quiet, a good distance between the houses. Large yards. Lots of trees. Shade. Privacy.

“Unexpected.” He surprises you with how fast he moves, cupping the side of your face and kissing you. Your stomach somersaults, your core throbbing in response. “Addictive,” he adds, kissing you again before he returns his attention to driving.

***

Miller’s house is a three bedroom Garrison with an attached two car garage.

You’re in that garage now, gaining entry once he’d pushed the button on the remote slotted on the sun visor overhead. You see his bike parked inside and a lot of the typical clutter you’d expect. Workbenches. Tools. You’re trying to picture the guard working on a housing project, doing something mundane like mowing the lawn, an expansive front one that rests on an incline, the house set uphill and far back from the road. Finding it impossible to reconcile the image.

There are a few steps into the house. Dave unlocks the door and doesn’t hesitate to scoop you up in his arms again. You laugh, murmuring a little protest that you can manage the task but he persists. You’re carried into a living room and gently deposited onto the nearby couch. It’s dark inside the house. Cooler. A lot of trees surround the property. It’s a relief after the heat outdoors.

“Want something to drink?”

“Yes, that’d be great.” You adjust the pillow beside you, looking around the room while you wait. It’s very modern. Gray and black and white. No pops of color. No personality to reveal what the owner liked. Coffee table devoid of magazines. Bookshelves lacking literature or decor. No pictures on the walls. No plants. It looked like an artist’s unfinished sketch. Waiting to be filled in.

Dave returns with two glasses full of ice submerged in amber liquid. Tea, you realize, taking a sip. “Good,” you say, nodding. He sets a couple of beverage napkins down on the table. There’s already a copious amount of condensation on the side of the glass.

He sits down beside you with a sigh, toeing off his shoes. “You can take yours off if you want. I’m not fussed about where you leave them. And I’m sure you want a break from that bandage.”

You nod, setting your drink down to unlace your shoes, then removing the metal clasps that kept the elastic wrap in place, unwinding the clinging fabric. A little bit of an impression where it had been hugging your skin, but the joint was mostly free of the swelling and redness from before.

You lean back against the cushions, picking up your glass again as you settle back. “Your house is nice. I mean, judging from what I’ve seen of it so far. Empty, though.”

“It’s easier to maintain that way. I don’t need the clutter.” He takes a swallow of his drink. “I’ll give you a more extensive tour when you’ve fully recovered. Unless you want to be carried around,” he adds with a smirk.

“I’m not that crippled. I can limp around pretty well now,” you reply defensively. “What do you do when you’re not working? There’s a lot of stuff in the garage.”

He nods. “Yes. That. I like…building things. I was an engineer once.”

“Really?” You’re surprised. Something else you couldn’t picture him doing. “What do you construct?”

“Oh, this and that. I haven’t completed anything in awhile. I’ve been…occupied.”

“With what?” The cool liquid slips down your throat.

“Some pretty young college girl that came into my path one day.”

You blush at the compliment.

The dark haired man’s drink is already finished. He tucks his thumb and index finger inside of it, tipping it slightly to retrieve one of the melting ice cubes, popping it between his lips.

You can hear him rolling it around on his tongue. The soft click when it collides with his teeth. You can’t stop staring, hypnotized. He sets the glass on the table and rests an elbow on the back of the couch, the fist he makes supporting his head. Watching you. Waiting.

Your half finished drink is back on the table. Your mouth back on his. A little humming noise from him. Satisfaction. Your tongue spears his lips. Chilled from the ice. He offers the remainder to you. Pushing it inside your mouth. That wedge of networked muscles chasing back after it. Relinquishing it. Trading back and forth. You have possession of it now, letting it rest in the curve you create as you offer it back to him. His lips close over your tongue and suck, dragging it back into his own maw.

You’re both breathing heavily. That satisfied smirk is back on his lips again. He’s swallowed whatever remained of the ice, his Adam’s apple shifting with the movement. His eyes are solid black, the rings of gray completely obliterated by the overwhelming dilation of his pupils. There’s a pulse in your sex, beating to match your heart. Every time you’re with him, you find yourself forgetting more and more of the misgivings you’d had earlier. Smothered beneath this layer of desire.

“Ask me something.” His head is propped up on his fist again, back to the casual waiting that you know is a front.

“What’s under this?” You run your fingers over his shirt sleeve. You’re going to ask him now. “The marks. What are they?”

“You want to see them?”

“Yes.”

A pause as he considers. Then that lean form lifts from the couch. Fingers working on the buttons sealing the sleeve cuffs and loosening the knot of his tie. Buckle of pants unfastened, making room at the waist to drag the shirt hem from where it’s tucked inside. The row of buttons down the center now released, pulling each arm out of the sleeves, letting the garment fall to the floor.

You stare at this display of undressing, watching raptly. Your eyes lock onto the scars on his forearms. A pair of rings almost like bracelets encircling his wrists. Circles dotted along each scarred bangle. Jagged lines streaking towards the elbows. Another bracelet ring. More streaks. The rest covered by the undershirt.

“What happened?” You lean forward for a better look, running your fingers lightly down his forearms.

“An accident at work years ago.”

“Yeah, but doing what?”

“A failure in one of the…construction projects.”

He’s still being evasive. “What kind of project?”

“A mechanical suit, of sorts.”

“Are there more scars?”

“Mmm-hmm.”

“A lot of them?”

“Yes. Do they bother you?”

You shake your head.

He sits back down and you take another sip of your drink. Dave lifts the glass from your fingers, draining the rest of it. Retrieving another ice cube. Outlining you bottom lip with it as if it was a tube of lipstick. The cold water leaks down your chin, your throat. He licks along that line, pushing you deeper into the cushions at the back of the couch. The fingers holding the ice disappear beneath the neckline of your top, letting it slide down your spine.

“Dave, fuck, that’s cold!” You try to reach the offending object, lifting the bottom of your shirt.

“You’re not, though,” he murmurs, one hand snaking behind to assist you. You can feel the ice drop onto the couch. He doesn’t remove his hand, instead pinching at the hook and eye closures of your brassiere to unfasten it. “You’re so, so hot.” Back at your front now. The ice cube somehow pinched between his fingers again. Slid along your abdomen, making you gasp. He shoves the front of your tank top up, moving the bra with it, exposing your breasts. Now circling your areola, your nipples instantly peaking.

“Dave…” It’s the only coherent word you can form. Your brain is short circuiting, the blood flow shunted elsewhere. There’s water from the melted ice cube all over your torso. Sliding down your ribs and pooling in your umbilicus. You absently try to reach him, any part near his groin you can locate, but he halts you, lapping at your ear before he whispers into it.

“Mmm-mmm. Ladies first.” The waist of your shorts is suddenly looser as he unfastens the button fly and pulls down the zipper. You’re trying to recall what underwear you’re wearing, hoping it’s something cute. You hadn’t really planned on this happening. Not this fast, anyway.

“One of the benefits of riding the bike,” he begins, leaning to retrieve another ice cube, “is that your fingers get a good work out using the brakes, clutch, throttle. A lot of strength built up. Power.” He’s beneath your panties now, his fingers dragging the dissolving frozen object over your clit.

Your spine jerks, your hips lifting up. Bringing him further down the length of your sex. You don’t even recognize the sounds escaping your lips. A calloused thumb circling your clit, middle and ring finger shoving at your entrance, the ice cube tucked firmly between the bridge of his palm. Another spasm. Your wrap your fingers around his forearm, nails digging into the skin. His digits reach so much further than your own. Stretching even more. He massages your g spot with the pads of his fingers. Planting little kisses on your jaw. Watching you with those dark, dark eyes as you writhe and grind against him. The last of the ice gone. The strong pair of fingers inserted into your canal working in earnest, your pussy making obscene noises as it greedily sucks him deeper.

“Is it good?” He knows the answer, of course. He can’t possibly not, with the way your body is responding, the sounds that you’re making, the frantic touches of your hands, your mouth.

“Yes,” you manage to gasp.

“You like my fingers inside this hot cunt of yours?”

“Dave…fuck, yes.”

“Are you going to cum for me like a good girl?”

A whimper. It’s all you can muster. You feel his smile against your neck as his thrusting fingers increase their pace, your unhooded bud flicked mercilessly. Your free hand digs into the pillow now resting against your thigh. It’s so overwhelmingly hot. You’re on fire. Sweating. Spots in front of your eyes, like when you’ve been out in the sun and go indoors, your vision trying to adjust. But it’s all from the man touching you. Burning you. A final searing kiss and touch and you’re there, moaning into his mouth.

His hand remains buried in your sex, resting now, cupping the natural curve, fingers motionless, feeling your walls contract around him, the lingering aftershocks of your orgasm still coursing through you. Softer kisses. Letting you drag air into your lungs in between them. Eventually removing his hand from your panties and you struggle to sit upright.

“That was…um…Jesus, Dave.” He’s got the fingers that invaded you in his mouth now, slowly sucking them clean.

“Delicious.” He grins at you. “Good?”

“Yeah, good. More than good.” You’re still coming down off your high, trying to collect your thoughts. You can still feel the nerves firing in your pussy, in your thighs.

“You want another drink?”

“Definitely.”

“I don’t know how much ice is left. I’ll have to refill the tray.” He winks at you and you shove at his arm. Your touch gentling, stroking down the length. Sated and yet you still want more of him. “I like having you here,” he says quietly, sensing the shift in mood.

“I like being here.” You kiss him.

He moves as if to stand but you tighten your grip on his arm. “The drinks…”

“Can wait.”

A soft smile before he’s back at your mouth again.

[bodhranwriting]

Finn and the Arsonist by Bodh M.

In three years of running the only cat sanctuary in Middle Besser, I’ve heard a lot of their odd tales about how they ended up here.

Getting into fights is a common one. Getting trapped in wells happens more often that you’d think. Inattentive families, owners needing the space… the list goes on. I try not to judge people’s situations too harshly. After all, my main witness is going to be a little biased and cat-senses don’t always translate well to human, as you’d expect. But there are definitely pickups I’ve done that have made my blood boil, if you don’t mind me saying.

But I’ve never had one before that made me scared and certainly never had one involving one of my closest friends.

It was a stinking hot day in the middle of summer when a small child barged open the door to the Respite with a terrified cat yowling at a pitch to match the temple bells.

I had been dozing at the counter, sweat sticking my sandy curls to my forehead and a new bandage wrapped around my arm – one kitten had not wanted to take her medicine – so I damn well fell out of my chair as a screaming feline was dumped a fingerbreadth from my face.

“I found them in Gert’s Alley,” the girl said helpfully, in lieu of greeting. She was probably nine or ten; a scruffy little thing in a faded blue dress with adorable tight black coils and a missing tooth so her next words came out as a lisp, “He theemed thercared. Look at all the blood!”

Dragging myself up from floor and trying to wipe the sleep from my eyes, I blearily focused on my newest patient. She (and definitely she, I noted as she wriggled out of the blanket) was a gorgeous black Kysi with golden eyes and the huge ears typical to her breed. As she backed up, hissing, I reached out a hand and concentrated, drawing up warm reserves of the little magic I had from my chest and into my throat.

Translation spells, in my experience anyway, always had a taste. I’d never been particularly good at them: it was almost easier to just do the hard work and learn the language. But translating my tongue to that of cats was like clicking your fingers might be to someone else. Easy. Not requiring much thought at all.

Cat tastes like buttermilk. I don’t know why, but there seems to be a connection to what I taste and what I’m trying to speak. Bee tastes, almost boringly, of honey. Spider has a dusty texture. Rat, for some odd reason, is hazelnut. I haven’t worked out that one and neither had the teachers out in the Hartland’s. I think one of my classmates who fell into the academic trap – track, sorry – is compiling research on it.

(I answered her very impersonal letter a few months ago and never heard back. Hope I helped. She did bully me into passing my star-reading exam, after all.)

I took a breath, the flavour rising into my nose, and attempted first contact. “Easy there… I’m not gonna hurt you… what’s your name…?”

The cat hissed again, but only for show because she answered quickly, “Smells-like-this. But upright call me Smoke.”

“I’m Finn,” I said, almost more for the benefit of the still-watching urchin. I projected an imitation of my scent into her mind: a kind of mix of cat fur, woodsmoke, and lye soap, and asked, “May I touch you? I need to find where you’re bleeding.”

Smoke hesitated and then lay down. “Yes.”

Carefully, I reached forwards, letting her sniff my hand. “Could you get me a bucket from the pump?” I asked the girl.

She nodded with great dignity and vanished outside. I turned my attention back to Smoke. It was funny: she was far better fed than a stray ought to be –

“Know your smell, upright.”

I jumped. Swallowing hard, I managed to keep the connection strong enough to ask, “You… do?”

Smoke curled up under my hand. “It was on take-off furs. And blood not mine.”

Ice settled in my stomach, cold fingers squeezing my guts paper-thin. “Whose is it…?”

Her tail thrashed, ears flattening against her head. “My upright.” The flash of fangs made me jerk my hand away. I was panting and I didn’t know why.

“What happened?”

Smoke sat up again, fixing shining golden eyes on me. She raised her head like a queen, crossing one paw in front of the other.

“Uprights invade territory. Smash door. I fight. Upright feeder does too. I run when they lay red flower.”

“Red flow…” Suddenly, the buttermilk soured to smoke and ash as my mind made the necessary translation. Terror thumped through my chest. “They burnt the house?”

I grabbed the cat by the scruff of the neck as she bolted from my shout. She tried to claw at me, but I didn’t even feel it. “What does your upright look like, Smoke?”

“Put down!”

“Please, tell me. What do they look like?”

“Upright! Smell like this! Not white-yellow fur like you. White-orange fur! Cloud eye! Make pretty noise a lot!” She meowed as I dropped her, landing perfectly on the table as I fell into my chair.

“Gert’s Alley… that’s where you were found?”

Smoke leapt to the ground and gave me the feline equivalent of a shrug.

I was up and running down the street before I even realised I’d processed the information.

[moosemonstrous]

Ghost Rider Pacific Rim AU - and the wheel keeps turning

Guero has a reputation in the barracks. He knows people, and people know him, partially because he’s been running around the base since early Cat-3s and partially because he made it his business. He made sure the mid-level folks on the support side know to come to him when they need something from the dome without the fuss of the paperwork. He made sure the quartermaster always gives him and his first pick at the list if he doesn’t want his city activities exposed to the higher-ups. He made sure to drop in by the techs’ break room every other day for literal years and feed them whatever it is they aren’t getting through the official channels, in return for a little of the same. The Shatterdome machine rolls smoothly with a little grease, and Guero holds the oil canister.

It means he’s a busy man, and it means that he doesn’t like to waste his time if he can help it. When he reached out to the new guy, it was mostly because someone getting into the academy outside of a recruitment drive usually means they’ve got interesting friends. Reyes certainly turned out to have those, if not in the way Guero suspected.

“Decommissioned, my ass,” he mutters, watching the EPLS deliver an arc reactor to Hell Charger’s bay. Word in the hangar has it that Stark is personally overseeing installation, too. Some very interesting friends indeed.

“What do you even want with the jaegers, anyway,” Pavel groans, bored. “Didn’t you say there’s money in working the ground?”

“I did, and there is. But it’s risky, and I don’t have a good contact in the Bone Slums yet.” He has to be extra careful, talking to Hannibal Chau’s people. He isn’t willing to sell anything actually important. “Think about it, the rangers go anywhere they want. Even the brass doesn’t want to piss them off.”

“Isn’t it good, then, that Reyes made it in?”

Guero loves his friends dearly, but he’s painfully aware they’d be all doomed to the front lines if any of them was behind the wheel. Sometimes it’s like trying to keep a bunch of puppies from jumping into the lagoon. “Reyes is a lying piece of shit.”

“Eh,” Pavel shrugs. He’s more interested in watching the beastie fights on his phone than anything going on in the hangar. “No offence, man, but you give him too much credit. Lena said the blood lab all think the whole solo drift is bullshit. He’s gonna get a stroke the first time he goes out for real.”

Maybe. The D-Sci people know their odds. But so do the techs, and they have been surprisingly tight-lipped on the matter. Rumour has it that Stark has been trying to get his mini-armour program off the ground since he took over R&D – and suddenly a long-lost heir to The Charger turns up to pilot the damn thing solo? Guero likes to think he can read people pretty well, and Reyes didn’t strike him as a complete idiot. Naïve and in over his head, but not necessarily a patsy – even Brooks thought he was cheating on the sims. Someone who, with a bit of guidance, could help Guero get his foot in the damn door.

Besides, he did a little digging. Reyes Senior was easy – his photos are in the news reports from the time, and there was an obituary and everything. It even mentions a wife and children, even if no further detail. It’s his co-pilot that doesn’t show up in any searches. Probably a brother, because most rangers were related or married before Mk-3s, but everything about him has been scrubbed out from any database Guero managed to get his hands on. All he has is the old Filipino down in electrics ranting about a missing friend before his shift leader told Guero to scram, and several extremely vague recollections of an asshole nobody wanted to be around anyway. Which is just another piece of this puzzle that makes no sense – the rangers do everything in pairs, it’s their whole thing. The Romeo Blue brothers are said to be constantly at each other’s throats, but you can’t mention one without the other. All the other dead rangers have their dedicated entries on the memorial wall in the main hall. He checked both names around Alberto Reyes, and then the whole list from that year – every other one could be linked to a tech, or a janitor, or a soldier. Nobody unaccounted for, nobody ‘unassigned’, save for a girl who was only six years old and died a couple of months before Daggerblight anyway.

It's weird. It doesn’t follow what Guero has always understood as the way the Shatterdome operates. Rangers are damn near revered around here – this little information about the first ones to die from the corruption is just– maddening.

Guero Valdez doesn’t suffer being made a fool lightly. He’s going to figure this out if he has to beat the answers out of Reyes himself.

###

(ugh genuinely is he going too hard too quickly? I've had a Day so people making logical decisions as according to their internal compasses is a somewhat alien concept rn)

[theroundbartable]

It's the modern ages.

In a small apartment in the middle of London lives a man named Arthur. He is blond. He is tall. He loves Chicken and cake and does his best to defy his father's every expectations on his way to become a designer. He's bi and out and works on the side in a little queer themed restaurant.

A couple days ago he's been visited by a strange looking cat. To be fair, all cats are strange. This one, however, looks positively struck whenever Arthur so much as turns his head. He crossed him in one of the shortcut alleys outside his apartment. Arthur uses them to get to the supermarket. They shared one glance, and suddenly the creature sat on his window sill that same evening.

Now, it had been cold and icey outside and Arthur had always liked cats, so he invited him in.

So far, the cat has done nothing but stare. He sat on that sill with the open window for an hour before he left. Arthur found that odd, and rude, since it was snowing outside and heating bills were ridiculously high this time of the year.

The next day, the cat found him again. Arthur hesitated to let him in. When he did, he stupidly reasoned with the cat. Oddly enough, it hushed through the open window, as if it understood.

And now it's been following Arthur around ever since. Once, Arthur locked the cat in, but it somehow materialised in his workplace anyways.

"i'm pretty sure he's stalking me.", Arthur mentioned to Gwen once, after explaining the Situation to her. "He doesn't eat any food I give him. He's not even making a mess. He just stares at me."

"you're dilirious. That's a cat.", Gwen says and scratches it's head, because of course the cat loves her.

"That cat -"

"cats are strange, Arthur. What, you think he's onto you? What for? Did you rob a bank?"

"i don't know. I haven't done anything. And he hasn't done anything either.... There is something about this cat, I just can't put my finger on it."

The cat miau'ed. It hasn't done that once since Arthur met him. Arthur blinked at it. Mouth wide open. "Did you hear that?"

Gwen snorts. "Wow, yes Arthur. It miaus. What an odd creature indeed."

"I'm sorry. I've been a cat for so long, I forgot to change my voice. I'm Merlin."

Slowly, they both turn their heads. The cat grins. "What? Only 1500 years and you already forgot about me?"

"you're a cat.", Arthur deadpans.

The Cat winks and suddenly there is no cat anymore, but the most beautiful man Arthur had ever seen. And he met Lancelot.

Arthur swallows, suddenly very aware of the fact that he had already changed in front of this man and can only stutter a few intelligable words.

Gwen has more sense than that:

"what the fuck are you?"

[inthewindandinthewater]

(Can We Be Friends) Pt. 3

A/n: Hi everyone :). First, thank you for the love on the last chapter, and thank you especially to anyone who followed me after reading it. It really encourages me to keep going. This next chapter is a little shorter, but it has more Sirius content.

My classes just started so I won't be able to write as much, so expect either shorter chapters or slower updates. Also please lmk if it's getting hard to tell when the scenes are meant to be set, I just wanna make sure it's clear when the flashbacks are happening (not that it isn't 90% flashbacks at the moment :/). Anyway, thanks again for reading and I hope you enjoy this next one.

Warnings: Heavy use of y/n, small arguments, cursing, poor grammar perhaps

Chapter 3

That detention drug on and on for (Y/n) as she worked with Sirius to polish the trophies in the cases outside the great hall. For the first half hour neither of you said a word, until Sirius broke the silence. “I wonder how long this has been a punishment for” He wondered aloud. “Huh?” she said back, not fully understanding what he meant, “Like, I wonder who the first person was that was sentenced to polish these damn things” He said, scrubbing a little extra at a particularly stubborn smudge before giving up with a shrug and placing it back on the shelf. She eyed him, she looked a bit taken aback at what he had said, what an odd thing to bring up and why try to start a conversation now? “I have no clue, but they definitely get their fair share of polishing.” He laughed a little at that “yeah mostly thanks to me and James, but somehow they’re always so goddamn dusty” he replied. She huffed softly and he looked over at her. Some part of him was pleased to have gotten a pleasant reaction, so he tried again. “Do you think Filch comes down here at night and sets that mangy cat on them?” That made her look over at him, a bewildered smile creeping across her feature, “I mean there is a troubling amount of cat hair in here.” He said with an exasperated look, holding her eyes for a few seconds before she began laughing. It was a breathy thing, not a full blown laugh. More like a placating chuckle, something you would do in response to a mischievous child or an annoying animal, but it was a laugh nonetheless. 

They went on like that for a while, Sirius making little jokes and jabs and her either correcting him or rolling her eyes. It made the last few hours bearable, even if they did drag on and on. When they finished Sirius had offered to walk her back down to her dorm, but she had refused him. “And why would you do that?” She had questioned, giving him an incredulous look. “I was trying to be polite, but if you want to be a rude ass then I won’t bother” He retorted, crossing his arms over his chest. She just huffed, rolling her eyes and turning on her heal in the direction of the dungeons. He thought about following her, about continuing to pester her all the way back to the common room. But he stopped himself, why exactly did he want to do that? He didn’t even like her, so why was he bubbly inside every time she turned her attention his way? It was probably the sleep deprivation. Yeah, it was late at night and she was a pretty girl, his mind wasn’t functioning properly. That’s all. 

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Now, a year later, he still got that feeling in his chest whenever she looked at him. And now he had an easier time swallowing that information, not that he planned to do anything with it. Over the course of a year (Y/n) had managed to prove herself much more tolerable than he originally thought. He could even say that he enjoyed the time he spent with her, although they didn’t get much time alone. She was incredibly smart, not only academically but she was witty too. He had heard some of the little remarks she and Peter threw back and forth, it was hard to stifle his laughter, knowing either of them they likely would have stopped had they known he was listening. She was also incredibly insightful, always dolling out rational advice whenever anyone asked it of her, and on occasion even when they didn’t ask. That was something he remembered about her from when she was younger. She always thought she knew best, and sometimes she was right, more often than he’d have liked to admit. 

It was something that gave Severus a bit of an edge on him and his friends. They didn’t always think things through when exacted their revenge on the Slytherin boy, he on the other hand thought everything out. The four had originally tacked that up to him alone, but upon further inspection they had found it to be her who toned down his theatrics in favor of more realistic ideas. At the time it had made Sirius bitter towards (Y/n), anyone who helped the enemy was an enemy as well. But now that he was older and now that he had the chance to see that logic work in his favor, he didn’t mind it so much. 

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It was a chilly morning at Hogwarts, the late January air swept through the castle and nipped at the ears and noses of the students who were attempting to settle back in after break. There was a quiet sort of atmosphere in the halls, but that wouldn’t last long. No, quiet wasn’t something James, Sirius, Remus, and Peter were conducive to, and they didn’t plan to start now. 

The plan was brilliant really, or at least that's what they thought, although it wasn’t exactly novel. The plan was to set off fireworks interrupting Filch's yearly welcome back speech; they assumed everyone would be thankful for the distraction, especially since Filch's “speech” was typically no more than a droning tirade about the new rules he’d be instituting for the upcoming year. After six years of hearing the same thing reiterated twice over every semester, the boys were ready to shake things up a little. The four weren’t quiet about anything, this was one of many things they did not have in common with (Y/n)- who had made an accidental habit of eavesdropping due to her quiet footsteps and unassuming demeanor. One thing she did have in common with the four miscreants though was her inability to leave something well enough alone. 

“You could not have picked a worse way to go about that.” She interrupted, making Peter jump three feet out of his seat. “Godric (Y/n), where did you even come from” Sirius sighed. “It’s the library, Sirius. Anyone could be here at any time, and you four aren’t the most perceptive when you're scheming.” She said, snidely as she rounded one of the couches to sit beside Remus. He smiled down at her as she sat, an action that did not go unnoticed by Sirius who could not help the eye roll that slipped out. 

“And how would you go about it?” The taller boy said, turning his body to face the girl next to him. She turned to match him saying “Well, I wouldn’t hide the fireworks behind the tapestry near the Hufflepuff table, the fourth years sit at that end and they’ve been learn their Incendio charm this week.” Remus nodded, immediately understanding the issue at hand. Peter on the other hand looked utterly lost, so she continued. “They won’t be much good to you if they set off early and burn down the castle.” The blonde let out a small ‘Oh’ and turned to the two boys seated on the couch opposite them. “How were we supposed to know that?” James questioned, “I don’t know, maybe you should be in touch with your student body. Since you are vying so hard for head boy next year, Potter.” She raised an eyebrow at him, to which he simply sat back smirking “Fair enough, (L/n).” “I don’t see you throwing out better ideas.” Sirius finally chimed in. “Actually, if you hid them in the alcove behind the Slytherin table you have a much lower chance of anyone finding them.” The raven haired boy scoffed loudly at that, “Please, you can’t expect us to hide them behind the snake den, that’s the worst idea I’ve ever heard” He said, leaning toward her. The three other boys exchanged glances, it wasn’t uncommon for Sirius and (Y/n) to argue for the hell of it, but the tension had seemed tighter recently. “Why shouldn’t you? It’s a perfectly fine plan, unless you are fully incapable of seeing reason” She spat back at him, leaning towards the boy across from her. “Oh I’m incapable of seeing reason is it, how would we even get back to them?” He added; James, Remus, and Peter exchanged yet another glance, he had a point. “Just pretend that you’re coming to see me.” She said simply, her sentence punctuated by the realization that their faces were mere inches apart. 

With that realization they both sat back almost immediately, and for a moment (Y/n) almost thought she saw a slight tinge of red on the Black boy's face. But by the time he was sitting back in his seat it was almost imperceptible, if had even been there at all. “Well then. I suppose that would work,” he said quietly. “Perfect!” James said, clapping his hands together as a means to diffuse whatever had just occurred. “So I guess I’ll see you tomorrow evening” (Y/n) said, standing to leave. “Goodnight,  (Y/n/n)” The boy next to her said softly. “Goodnight, Remus,” She returned. “Night, (Y/n)” Peter chirped, giving her a genuine smile. She smiled back at him “Night, Pete”, she simply nodded at the two other boys before making her exit. Upon her absence the three of them turned to an unusually quiet Sirius, but with a hand raised in front of him he stopped them before they could begin to speculate “shut it.”

[lunanheartache]

hiiii this is the second lamb pov piece ive done... lamb has a sleepless night and contemplates a few feelings. j'gar wakes up and asks. 2.2k words

the wishbone inn is quiet.

at this hour, everything is. winter smothers sound like thick cloth, blurs consonants into vagueness. the wind curling at the frost-freckled window whispers instead of howls. there's something gentle about its beckoning, weaved between promises of mystery and moonlight. his next breath in almost tastes cold in the anticipation of it. it would be better than this stillness. the room air stifles and stales; the groan of treated wood under their feet a poor approximation of the crunch of snow, the whining yawn of still-flowing sap in the trees.

inside, the night drags its heels. if she just steps out, the world would turn again. back to movement, to sound, to vibrant, eager life. winter is cold but full of it. in here it's almost like being trapped again.

lamb drags his gaze from the window. the body in the bed lays unbothered, soft breath rustling against the pillow the only sound worth hearing. the room sleeps in muted gray. the windowframes restrict moonlight to a small square at their feet, kept contained and docile.

sit and stay. speak when spoken to.

his breath catches in his throat. they touch a hand to their sternum and settle. it's difficult to stay occupied when the world is asleep but sleep abandons you. difficult to avoid old thoughts.

their pack is five-times organized. spare clothes twice folded, coinpurse four-times counted. they tried sleeping, tried lying down with j'gar as still as possible so as to not scare it away like a shy cat. but it never works on nights like this. there is no rest for the restless. her brain and body whir like the sun hasn't set. not insomnia but a pure absence, an un-need. even if guilt and shame didn't stick like a knife in his ribs, sleep would stay far away. no, they're wasting time. she needs to move, needs to get out, needs to go, go, go.

these are always the worst.

lamb sits at the side of the bed. the window is dark beyond the glare of the moon. the stars look like snowflakes. his feet just break the boundary, shins to the knees lit like a searchlight.

they probably aren't even looking for her.

it's been nearly two years. she is either better at hiding than she thought, or they haven't looked. a shitty game of hide and seek. lamb tries to imagine the feeling of seeing his father again and comes up empty, bleaker than the abandoned streets outside. if his father knocked on the door right now, he would jump right out the window. the action would be thoughtless, instinctive, immediate. his father would step in and lamb would leave like a magnet repelled. no fear or panic, no stupid, desperate need for approval. just plain, boring nothing. because his presence would mean nothing. it wouldn't be a relief, wouldn't be proof that everything he did was out of love and he did his best and.

she's childish, really. running away to escape and being upset when no one cares enough to follow. it's stupid. their father is never going to care. if he is looking for her, it's only because he is furious at losing that last wince of control. nothing else.

"mm."

j'gar makes a tired sound behind him, startling enough in the silence to make her flinch around. when she turns, he is in the middle of a yawn, little tusks looking bigger in the stretch. his hair sticks up in odd cowlicks. when he blinks his eyes half open, they don't focus properly in the dark. he smiles anyway, face pressed sideways into the pillow.

"can't sleep?" he asks, voice rough with sleep.

lamb says, "why are you awake?"

"could hear ya thinkin'," j'gar says through another yawn, arms outstretched and bumping lamb's hip. he laughs a little to himself. "nah, 'm kiddin'. iunno, sometimes i'm a light sleeper. wishbone's kinda creaky. more like old bones."

lamb exhales fondly, patting his hand where it falls to rest on the bed next to her. "bad joke," she says.

"i think it's pretty good."

"go back to sleep, jay."

"i ain't far off," j'gar says, closing his eyes. he lifts his arm and holds it in the air. "you comin' back in? come keep me warm."

"maybe in a little."

with a soft sound, j'gar drops his arm to the mattress. "you can talk to me, y'know. if you want. i can wake up in two shakes of a. well, a lamb's tail. you'd be kinda cute with a tail."

lamb closes their eyes.

impulse burns in their limbs like frostbite. they should go. they should get out, save j'gar the trouble of knowing them, and.

and nothing. there is no plan. the plan is wander until his legs give out. don't stick around because staying causes problems. it's built into the brick of her: lamb is a problem, and if she lingers it festers like a wound. leeches out, drags everyone else down with her. his family is so happy to be rid of him they haven't looked for him. he's been missing for two years, and who cares. not even a reward for the safe return of an aristocrat's daughter.

j'gar mumbles through another yawn. he doesn't push. the sheets rustle, bed creaking as he rolls onto his back. not once does he demand. he follows boundaries like a fence, takes the quiet as the no it is.

it is a no.

it is. lamb can't talk about this. saying anything is an admission of failure. as long as he admits to nothing, juggles every stupid ball thrown their way and hide the ones he drops, no one cares. that's what they are supposed to do. they are fully independent.

the only thing better would be automated, stripped of annoying feeling.

he needs to do everything right and on her own and not say a word. there is no choice but to handle it. he can't be upset, can't be angry, anxious, scared, can't be anything other than fine because his feelings are an inconvenience and a problem. she is an inconvenience.

it's a no. lamb can't talk about it. lamb can run away.

lamb doesn't move from the bed, still half twisted at the waist to look at j'gar. he is different at night, if only because all of that bright energy tapers down. he's still beyond the casual rise and fall of his chest, face relaxed as he returns to sleep.

he makes it look so easy.

he makes everything look simple, dashes lamb's grey anxieties with black and white confidence. sometimes he's wrong, but he shares and he listens and he has never turned away from vulnerability. somehow, he doesn't worry about how the world sees him.

lamb shifts, bringing a leg up to sit sideways. her heart feels so loud that he is sure j'gar can hear it, sure the entire goddamn inn can. "i, uh. i can't- sleep," they force out, voice small.

there's a moment where she worries j'gar already fell asleep when he cracks open one eye. "wanna try?" he asks, lifting the sheet.

"no, i."

this is a terrible idea. lamb breathes carefully. keeps their eyes focuses on their hands in their lap. their fingernails are getting long again. there is an small old scar shaped like a crescent on her thumb, nicked by the front gate when she was small. she threw it open, thoughtless in her haste to get out.

always running away.

"i don't have to sleep every night," says lamb.

"i do," j'gar says. he lets the blanket fall, arm relaxing. "i don' need like, a buncha hours, but if i get too far behind i just catch up with a nap."

"i'm not great with naps."

"you should try it. i nap everywhere. my momma used to just send the chickens out when she couldn't find me 'cause they'd all pile on me for bugs since i was sleepin' in the fields again."

lamb breathes out a smile and shakes her head. j'gar talks so freely. he sounds lighthearted but the soft expression on his face in the moonlight belies something aware. this isn't some oblivious rambling. he is half asleep and still reads them better than most: he keeps the conversation at the surface, leaving them the opportunity to break it or float with him.

in anyone else, it would be awkward and obvious. in j'gar, it looks as natural as breathing.

"i- i have- a lot on my- mind, i think," lamb says haltingly.

"i feel like y'always do," says j'gar. "anythin' you wanna put down?"

"i'm. i'm not sure. i don't- know how to talk about it."

"jus' like anythin' else," he says, like it's that simple. maybe for him it is.

lamb takes a deep breath. she draws a thumb over the scar on her hand, hesitating. wanderlust still shimmers in their legs like pins and needles. "i'm... i think i'm having a hard time reconciling my feelings about my father. my family as a whole," they say quietly, admission smaller than it feels.

"they was why you left, right?"

turning slightly to face him, lamb nods. their pulse is an anxious beat in their throat. j'gar doesn't seem to notice. his eyes don't pin to her and dig; they wander a little, flicking to the ceiling, the window, or closing for too long of a blink. maybe he is too polite or too tired to acknowledge it.

j'gar talks with his hands. this time, his hand starts before his mouth, a visible delay. "i don't know nothin' about your folks, so i don't wanna speak too ill of 'em, but. i bet if they were enougha anythin' to make you leave, maybe they weren't all that great. you said before your daddy was rich, an' too much money don't do nothin' good for the soul, but. that don't change that they were the first people you ever known, y'know? they're always gonna be that. an' gettin' outta there, well. if they weren't like how they were, you'd be a different sorta lamb, an' maybe you weren't have met an' done everybody an' everythin' you have. i'm not excusin' whatever they hurt you, but... y'know, there ain't a whole lot to do to change that 'cept keep bein' you. i don't think you gotta feel any one way about 'em. you can just- feel all of it."

he makes everything sound so simple. lamb exhales the trapped air in his lungs and it trembles. his eyes are that embarrassing hot that wells up with tears, and there's something terrible about that. terrible about being allowed to feel anything, everything, torn in two and told finally that that's okay. she can be conflicted and angry and upset, and miss them in the same stupid breath, and that's- fine.

j'gar doesn't say she's an idiot for any of it. doesn't say they're being a child, being difficult, being contrary and inconvenient just cause problems because when does he do anything but make his father's life worse?

j'gar says maybe both is okay. lamb presses a hand to their cheek and sucks in a breath too sharp. behind them, the bed shifts, blankets rustling.

"ah, shit," j'gar frets, "you're cryin'. did i say somethin'? 'm sorry, i know i run my mouth sometimes an' you can't hardly say nothin'. i shoulda waited 'til you explained. i don't mean to talk over you. sorry. what- what did you wanna say?"

when they turn fully to face him, j'gar is sitting up, worried hand hovering over their shoulder like he isn't sure if he can touch. his eyes are wide in the dark, fully awake in his concern. lamb laughs a little, the sound wobbly and fragile.

"no, i." she scrubs salt from her cheek with a palm. "i'm good. you were good. that was- that was helpful, jay. i just- i don't know why i'm crying."

"you sure? you can always tell me to shut up if i'm talkin' too much."

"no, i think you said what i needed to hear," says lamb softly.

that seems to work, seems to pass whatever social inspections j'gar runs his words through; he settles, searching her face, just a little. gently, he cradles the curve of their jaw in a warm, rough palm and smudges the pad of his thumb over their cheek.

he lingers for a moment. if he was hesitant to touch before, he seems reluctant to leave now. there is sleep at the corners of his eyes, and his hair curls messily at odd angles. in the dark, lamb can't make out the freckles that dot over the bridge of his nose and those high cheekbones, but j'gar is j'gar still. he looks tired, but that weird, impossible, infatiguable brightness to him flickers at the edges.

if j'gar ever met his father, lamb could almost believe he would change. that's a funny thought.

huh.

his heart hurts. he trusts j'gar. it's remarkably hard not to. it's a strange feeling, having such faith. lamb breathes a fraction easier, relaxes into j'gar's palm.

j'gar's hand falls, mumbling in the space between them with an unspoken gesture. "i promise you the resta the world don't think like your daddy, lamb. whenever you can talk about somethin', that's good."

"i'll try to believe that," lamb murmurs.

[titlemewickedwonderland]

It's Our Time - Peter Ballard (One-Shot)

Summary: You and Peter had known each other since you were children; emprisoned in the Hawkins Laboratory for the abilities you were born with. Now, grown-up many years later you realize that perhaps there is more to the pair of you than you first thought.

W.A.C. Winner: @homeinaplaceofmadness

Chapter Warning: Make-Out Session and possessive behavior

Auth. Note: I hope you enjoy this reading! I haven't done a Peter Ballard one-shot before so I'm so sorry if I fumbled it! XD

You had always been an odd little child. You found comfort in the company of animals; much preferring the silence of the critters to human interaction. Because of this, you were considered an outcast not only in your school but even misunderstood within the walls of your home. Your parents pretended to try and understand but even as a young child, you could see the tightness behind their smiles and the emotion of fear in their eyes. People fear what they do not understand, and no one understood you. You had known you were different though. Not just because no one liked you for reasons you could never comprehend; but because you could feel it. A sort of energy within you that kept you apart from the others. You did not understand what it was but it sure did make things difficult for you to make friends. You were in all aspects of things a social pariah. The children in the neighborhood would be told to not speak to you if they saw you come outside to play and if they saw you approach they were to leave or go inside. It sucked and you were lonely. But you found the comfort of animals better company anyway. They did not judge you or fear you; if anything they were drawn to you like a moth to a flame. It became apparent that your love of animals was beyond just a child in need of some form of love and comfort you were otherwise lacking in other places.

It started normal at first, birds would come regularly one by one to the house despite there not being a bird feeder. This your parents chalked up to you secretly feeding them bread or rackers from your bedroom window since they always sat outside on the branches of the tree outside your window or even some brave ones sitting on the window sill. Then, came the cats. Problem was, you did not have a pet cat. No, they were all strays; drawn in by you. The amount of cats that would gather on your front porch would make a lonely cat lady jealous. This was a problem for your parents because not only was your father allergic to cats but they would cause many problems. Knocking over potted plants that your mother loved dearly or trying to eat the fish in the pond out in your garden that your grandfather had painstakingly built by hand when he was still alive. It all came to a head when the other critters began making an appearance. Raccoons, squirrels, and even rats came to the house. Deer too, but they became too much of a problem when people would constantly hit them crossing the road. Your parents were fed up as the bills piled high from the neighborhood community charging them for car repairs, property damage, and overall chaos that surrounded their homes.

So they had done the only thing they could think of and that was to send you to a doctor to see what was wrong with you. Yes, they believed you had something mentally wrong with you. But they were wrong; what you had was not something wrong. It was a gift. Only they did not see it as such. A friend of theirs in another state had been contacted with whatever details your parents had of your condition; you had heard them on the phone talking to the man on the other end of the line acting like you were some kind of freak. Again, people feared what they could not comprehend with their minds even after seeing it with their own eyes. You had no choice in the matter; two days later a dark-tinted van pulled up in your driveway and a woman stood dressed sharply in a suit waiting to take you away.

And that, ladies and gentlemen, is how you found yourself in the state of Hawkins, Indiana in the Hawkins laboratory. They called it a hospital for face sake but really, it was run by a man named Dr. Brenner; someone who found unusual abilities in the form of people. He had a vision of finding those who possessed such incredible abilities and running not only tests on the subjects but as a way of protecting them from others who did not understand the supernatural and strange. That is where you had landed. In his care, you are his very first encounter with something strange. Thus earning you a tattoo on your forearm with the number 000 in black ink forever engraved into your flesh. From there, he used you as a brick to build the facility. From you, came Henry. A boy around your age who possessed incredible abilities and saw the world in a whole different way. You were much like him, a solitary creature who found the comfort of animals over the presence of humanity, and perhaps that was the reason the pair of you clung to each other. You had been here longer than he when he first came in so naturally, you took him under your wing; protecting him the best you could. You confined in him about your abilities even when he saw it for himself during lessons. He was your rock in a sense.

You grew up and a decade later the facility was filled with young children with all sorts of abilities that revolved around telekinesis just like Henry and yourself; a power you had found you had during your stay in the labs. You never did hear from your parents again though. When you became too old to be patient Dr. Brenner offered you a chance to be an orderly; a staff member that helped watch over the children. You could not bear the thought of these kids enduring all of this alone as you had for the longest time, so you stayed. Partly for that thought but mostly due to the fact you had nothing else to live for. Dr. Brenner or Papa as he liked being called was all you had in the world apart from Henry that is. Henry, or Peter as Papa renamed him, soon joined you as an orderly and he watched the children in the rainbow room with you.

You did not know when your dynamic had changed. Perhaps, it was when you outgrew your little girl phase and began to fill out your form. Or perhaps it was just recently. But you had been noticing a sort of change of energy between you and Peter. You didn't know what it truly was between you but you liked that electricity that sparked your skin anytime you two happened to touch and whatever energy boiled between you did not last long until it was boiling over the metaphorical pot.

~

"Henry, it's alright it's just a small cut! Let's go back to the room and finish our shift okay? It's not that bit of a deal really!" you felt the pool of something low in your belly at the look in his blue eyes as he closed the staff room behind him.

That metaphorical pot of water had finally boiled over today; you didn't even realize it was happening. One minute the pair of you were in the rainbow room with the children and you were crouching down with number 002 speaking to him when the boy who was known for having a big ego and a terrible temper hit you in the face with one of the blocks that he had been trying to stack. the wood on any other given day would have been smooth and polished down so it would be safer for the children but today even with its physical safeties the toy object had not only knocked a bruise onto your forehead but because 002 used his telekinetic abilities while doing it; had made a shallow cut above your eyebrow. You didn't know what happened as you were grabbed away from the child and ushered from the room by strong hands on your arms until you were shoved into a room and turned to find Henry locking the door of the staff room behind the two of you.

The darkness in his usually kind blue eyes was startling and it made you jittery but it also made the pool in your lower belly churn with what you could only assume was excitement. You liked the dangerous glint in his eye as he stalked forward and one pale hand raised to grip your chin; twisting your head into the light so that he could see the cut better. His usually soft features were sharp now; the light above you two casting razer sharp shadows along his face.

"He should not have done that." his voice was low as slender fingers probed around the cut making you wince. "He will be punished for hurting you Y/n."

You sigh knowing it was true, the cameras could not lie and you knew Peter would back you up even when you did not wish harm to come to the boy. You knew he struggles just like all the others in different ways; his bouts of anger were not always meant for you so you did not feel hurt by his actions. Simply understanding. But Peter did not see it as such. He had always been very protective of you; often taking the punishments made for you any chance he could just so you wouldn't have to suffer. But this time was different. There was a different feeling conforming his face that went beyond the need to protect you; you realized as you studied his features what it was and it made your heart stutter a bit. Possession. He was possessive of you. That much was evident by the way his free hand gripped your shoulder tightly while the other checked your minimal injury. Swallowing, you raised a hand to grab his wrist and pulled it away from your wound to regain his attention. Your eyes peering up at him imploringly.

"It's alright, Peter. I promise! Papa will sort everything out himself. There is no need for you to interfere." you tried to convince but the way the blonde man's nostrils flared you were not having the best of luck in convincing him.

"He hurt what's mine." the words came out with dark intent before he could check himself as his hand cups your cheek; thumb brushing along the apple of your cheek

You let that little comment slide even when it shot a feeling of electricity through your body. "Henry…" his true name slipped free out of habit and something inside of him coiled up.

The hand that was caressing your cheek a moment ago stilled before it slowly slid down to the column of your throat where those long fingers curled; not enough to choke the breath but enough to gain your attention. A slight flash of fear reflected in your eyes as you met his gaze to see the blue color you loved so much nearly overcome by the blackness of his pupils.

"What did you just call me?" his voice was soft but commanding something inside of you.

shuddering a bit you lick your lips; an action those blown eyes followed intently. "P-Peter." you squeaked out but the grip on your neck tightened.

"Say it again."

There was a beat of silence before your lips parted and one word, one name, slipped from your lips that caught the pot of boiling water on fire. "Henry."

The grip on your throat pulled you forwards into his chest and his mouth that damned mouth you had recently found yourself staring at, pressed against yours in a hungry all-consuming kiss. He acted as if you were his last meal. As if you were the only source of water as if a man was stuck in a desert. His free hand grabbed your hip to press you closer to his frame; your body going limp and compliant against his as it bowed and arched up into him. He backed you up against the table, a grunt leaving you when the edge dug uncomfortably into your thighs. But he did not allow you to dwell on the feeling as he yanked your thigh up making you plop your ass onto the glossy white surface of the table and slot himself between your thighs. Never once allowing you away from his mouth and tongue that began to sweep inside to tangle with yours and to lick at your teeth. You were desperately holding onto him, not experienced in this sort of thing but damn did it feel good. He consumed you until there was nothing left. When the lack of breath burned your lungs you pulled away with harsh gasps. Clutching onto him as his head ducked low to kiss along your jaw and down the column of your throat eliciting a whimper of pleasure from you.

"W-what got you so excited?" you tried to quip as your eyes closed on their own accord and your head tipped back to allow him more room.

"Do you know how long it's been since you called me by my true name?" his head pulled away as he stared down at you with bright eyes alight with a sense of frenzy. "Do you know how long I've craved to have you against me like this?"

You blink your eyes up at him in a daze; fingers clutching at his white uniform shirt. "I didn't…didn't think you liked me like that," you admit a bit shy now.

You thought your attraction was only one-sided and only because you two were the closest pairs who grew up together. You were all each other had in this awful place. But hearing the fact that he did in fact crave you as much as you did him sent a fire through you.

"Oh my sweet little Y/n, you should know me better than that." a grin slowly played at his lips as he leaned closer to you until his eyes were all you could focus on. "You're everything to me."

"But.." you swallow and pull away a bit as rationality comes back. "we can't do this…we'll get caught. You know how angry Papa can get sometimes…do you really want to risk it?"

"For you, anything. See. I have a plan to get us out of here and take Papa down with us." the dark haunting look was back in those pretty eyes even when his features went soft again. "I have a plan…will you go with me?'

You stare up at him for a long moment thinking back to all those memories you had shared together and created together and you realized you wouldn't risk letting him go alone. If he was going to go down then you were going with him. Nodding slowly you wrap your arms around his neck; allowing him to duck into your, his taller frame bending to mold into your smaller one and bury his face into your shoulder. Your fingers carted through the silken strands of blonde locks as you let out a small breath.

"It's about time we fight for our own lives."

If you enjoy my work please consider reblogging for others to enjoy too! Thank you!

[bonny-kookoo]

Jungkook

𝓜𝓮𝓪𝓷𝓽 𝓽𝓸 𝓫𝓮 : Empty Bed

You like being a ghost.

Tags/Warnings: Angst, hurt & Comfort, Idol!Jungkook, Hybrid!Reader, Cat Hybrid!Reader, mentions of depression and depressive thoughts, heartbreak, homelessness, it's a bit heavy sorry, mentions of mental abuse and manipulation, betrayal, slow burn, eventual smut, dead dove do not eat

Dead Dove do not eat: warning for potentially triggering content that can't be tagged without spoiling the story.

Length: 2.4k words

-> Masterlist

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"Do you want to come to Miss Kim's barbecue today?" Your owner, Hanako, asks from the entrance of your room.

Miss Kim is nice. She always keeps all of your favorite snacks in a drawer in her living room for you every time you visit her home. She's a bit old now, can't walk that well, but she's still a young spirit at heart, always trying to play around with you whenever she feels like her body can handle it. You're not a dog hybrid. You don't play fetch, or frisbee, or anything of the sorts.

But she's nice. So you do it anyways, because it makes her happy.

Miss Kim has two sons, and you know Hanako likes one of them a lot. She doesn't outright say it, scolds you whenever you accidentally let something slip that could tell him this secret. But you know she does. Because she looks at him like you did at your past lover.

She should pursue him before he finds someone else to love. And she can't if you're around to ruin that, because he tends to pay more attention to you than to her. So you shake your head at her question, watching the cars pass by outside your window, way down below. Daegu is an odd place to you- like you're stuck in an old childhood dream you're not quite sure of. Is it a bad one? Does it hurt? Or was it pretty, and you just forgot?

Hanako sighs, but walks off. She's done that for a few months now, maybe even more than a year, as if she's given up on you. You wouldn't be surprised. After all, she never really wanted you in the first place.

You wonder why she agreed to it, back then. Did she feel like she had to? Probably, because while she'd never been awful to you, she'd also made it very clear at all times that she 'could never' own a hybrid herself. And yet, when he had dropped you off at her place, back then still a small apartment in the capital, she'd just nodded, taken your things from him, closed the door. You remember watching him leave from the window of her bedroom. He hadn't even looked back once, simply got in his car, and drove off.

Never to be seen again, except on TV.

Is he still mad at you? If yes, then for what? He never told you, never really explained to you why he'd given you away, and Hanako told you that she doesn't have his phone number anymore, doesn't know how to contact him. She'd explained that your name would change from that point on, that your ID was something else you never bothered learning like you did when you were still in his care. She'd told you that this was a new chapter in your life now, that you'll both have to adjust, and that it'll be fine.

It'll just hurt for a bit, she'd said. What's a 'bit', in her terms? Because it's been two years, and it still stings every time you see him on TV and billboards.

When the front door closes, you know that Hanako has left. She doesn't even say goodbye to you these days when she leaves for work, or dates, or grocery shopping. It makes you feel invisible, and in a way, you like it like that. You like being a ghost. That way, you can pretend that nothing ever happened- that you're just waiting to go home, one day, whenever that might be.

Does he think about you sometimes? Or has he forgotten about you?

Hanako says it's bad that you still follow what he does on social media. Has taken your phone away occasionally when she deemed it fit. But these days, she doesn't seem to really care anymore. And neither do you, to be honest. His livestreams only make you dream of nightmares at night where he's still standing at Hanakos old apartment, throwing your stuff into the room a lot more forcefully than you know he actually did. You remember him being awfully quiet and stoic, with no emotions in his face, but in those dreams he always looks angry, disappointed, scolding you for something you don't know you might've done. In your eyes, you've never done him harm. You always tried to be good. But it seems like that wasn't enough.

In reality, he's never even told you he'd be leaving you forever. In reality, he just told you to stay with Hanako- and he just never picked you up ever again.

You moved to Daegu pretty much a few weeks after that, into a new home, way bigger, but a lot more intimidating as well. The neighborhood is nice, quiet and reserved. Hanako sometimes takes you downtown to the food markets, but it's become less these days. Will she soon be tired of you too? Maybe. Jungkook, back then, gave you away after about three years as well. You remember he got his hair bleached after you'd started living in Daegu with Hanako. Now he's back to his natural hair, got piercings too, new tattoos, and long hair he sometimes ties in the back. It looks good.

He looks like he's finally free. Did you hold him back?

Maybe. You remember both his members and the company not being happy about you living with him back then. It was always somewhat awkward whenever someone would visit- you'd stay in your room after the first few times, avoiding any person that wasn't him after a while. He knew why, there's no way he didn't- but he simply accepted your choice, began to have less people over instead to accommodate to you, because that's what he's always done.

Maybe that annoyed him after a while. Maybe he regretted getting you in the first place.

Jungkook had always been quite impulsive, back then more than nowadays. He'd always been wild, and it was true that he sometimes made choices he'd regret later on. Maybe you were one of those choices? Probably, considering how he usually ends up either adjusting to the things he can't change, while he otherwise searches for ways to undo what he doesn't want no more, like he did when he didn't want his helix piercings.

He just took them out, and never put them in again, holes closing and leaving nothing behind. Just like with you. Did you leave nothing behind as well?

Hanako will probably bring Miss Kim's son over tonight. She deserves to have him, deserves to undo a bad choice as well- so maybe it's best to take that off her shoulders. Sure, she's not been as nice to you as Jungkook has been. She sometimes yells, and locks you into your room, but you know she's just overwhelmed with you. She doesn't mean to be like this. It's you that's the issue.

It's always you that's the issue.

~✿~;~✿~;~✿~;~✿~;~✿~;~✿~;~✿~;~✿~;~✿~;~✿~;~✿~;~✿~

You've never taken a train by yourself before. In a way, it's exciting.

You know that at this point, Hanako doesn't know yet that you're gone. Will she be happy that you're not there? You made your bed all tidy, cleaned up what you could after cooking yourself a filling meal to last you for the next few days. Until she knows, however, you'll have to get away as far as you can, to buy yourself time to think about what to do next. Your hybrid transportation ticket will only last for a few more days before it'll expire- Hanako didn't renew the subscription on it, since you don't technically leave the house by yourself after all. It's one of those last few things you know still runs on Jungkook's name- once the ticket expires, there will really only be your life insurance left. He's really cut all ties with you, and you can't blame him.

He's thorough after all. If he does something, he tends to see it through instantly, as fast as he can, so he can make sure he's seen it through.

Daegu's landscape changes the deeper into the city you drive. Taking train after train is actually quite fun, seeing all those people go about their days, no one really paying any attention to you. You like this. You're like a ghost.

You like being a ghost.

You get up for a pregnant mother with her little child, the woman warmly thanking you, quiet as to not disturb any other traveler, and you simply watch for a second, before you get off the train yourself. You don't really have a goal in mind, not very prepared for what you did in the end, but maybe you don't need one. You could go to Seoul, right? It would take a bit, but you'd be fine. You can't really risk taking the way faster bullet train after all- your ticket doesn't work for that one, so you'll need to take the regular intercity one. You remember taking that one before, actually. You don't remember why though. Maybe a doctor's appointment? Maybe.

You step out the train, waiting for the one you want to take, when a small dog yaps at you from the side, tail wagging excitedly. You don't look up at the young man who's holding the leash, gently tugging to pick up the small animal. "All alone?" He asks with a deep but friendly voice, and you simply nod, making it clear that you don't really want to talk. And the man gets the message, simply nods as well, though you do feel his eyes on you for a moment or two.

You lose sight of him at some point when you board the train to Seoul station- but you don't mind at all.

The next few hours are spent watching the scenery change and change and change outside the window- sun setting, golden hue filling the rather empty train section you're in. Some people are sleeping, probably tired from work, while others are on their phone, or reading. It's reassuring to you how the world keeps on turning even after what you've done. It doesn't even feel all that bad, even though you don't know where you'll sleep tonight. Maybe you'll stay awake, and take a nap at a park tomorrow. Seoul is way more familiar to you, at the end of the day- you'll have a better time navigating and living there from now on.

As soon as you step out the train, legs a bit sore from sitting so long, you're greeted with a wave of nostalgia.

Hanako never went to Seoul with you for some reason. Maybe Jungkook just doesn't want to stumble upon you by accident- does he hate you that much? It's a horrible thought to have, but then again, you basically took his youth from him when he'd taken you in, signed that contract of ownership. Sure, you both had something similar to love- you'd kissed, made love, all of those things- but you're still a hybrid, while he's a full blooded human. There'd be no way something like that would be overlooked considering his status as not only an idol, but one of the most famous ones at the moment.

In a way, you can understand it. You'll keep an eye out from now on, so you can avoid him.

Has Hanako already noticed you're not home? Miss Kim usually keeps her over for a long time until late at night, so you wouldn't be surprised if she didn't. You left your phone and everything else at home, your backpack only containing clothes, some food, a bit of money you've saved up, and nothing else. You don't want anything on you that could identify you- you're already pretty much a blinking red light with your white hybrid features. Like a ghost, you think.

But you like being a ghost, so it's fine.

At Hangang river, you sit down and put down the beanie you've been wearing for a moment, let your ears and hair breath freely for a bit. It's not too chilly outside, and while you know it's illegal to sleep outside, if you're smart about it you could probably pull it off. Or maybe you'll just sleep at a cheap bathhouse. Hopefully there's space at a hybrid friendly one. There should be one in Itaewon, if you remember it correctly. And even if not, you'll find your way around. You'll be fine from now on, not bothering anybody, not keeping anyone from achieving what they want and deserve. You'll be a ghost, all by yourself, all for yourself.

Someone is playing music close by. It sounds nice, soothing, and the couples around all snuggle a little closer on their blankets, making you happy for them. Maybe you'll find someone too, one day, to snuggle up to at times like these. Seoul never seems to sleep, but you know many do, right now, as the lights in the windows slowly turn off one by one, everyone going to hide underneath their blankets until their days begin tomorrow at different times. Could you work at some point? Not really, no. You're a stray now after all, and considering all the searches police does regularly, no one wants to risk it any longer for those they don't know. And you're a ghost to everyone- people don't risk their livelihoods for ghosts.

Maybe you'll need to make careful connections. Friendships, that could help you survive in the long run, when the nights will turn cold and harsh again at some point. For now, summer will soon arrive, making it a bit easier to sleep outside at night. And if you're careful with your money, you'll be able to stay at cheap accommodations every now then, unless Hanako puts you out there as missing, that is.

She shouldn't, really. You don't want to go back to her, you don't belong there, can't even call it home. Neither is Jungkook home anymore, isn't he? Maybe he never was, who knows really. But no one should search for ghosts, not if they don't want to be found like you. You like this. The way no one pays you any mind, drunk friends stumbling past you with no attention spared. You like this. You like being invisible.

You like being a ghost.

[kankuroplease]

Tattoo shop au hc for Yamato pls?

Yamato was involved with the wrong crowd as a child because he had no one at home. so when he met Kakashi, who not only helped him while he was being jumped and didn’t judge him harshly for what he’d been doing around town, he sort of started to try and live a bit differently.

Kakashi invited him to come and hang out while he apprenticed with Minato and eventually he was learning right along side him.

He found nature tattoos were his calling. Even looking at and studying the references were calming to him and gave him something other to do than hang around his old gang. And the rest is history

Volunteer firefighter

Dating Genma. Ngl it’s pretty serious, BUT he’s not telling anyone outside of Kakashi. He’s pretty sure they scared off the last person he was talking to 💀

Genma always remarks about their “audience” when he’s visiting him outside the shop. The crew, minus Kakashi, is usually is pressed up against the window trying to figure out what the relationship is

Is the hot motorcycle guy scamming Yams? Are the just friends? FWB? Loves? What?! None of their business. That’s what

Still gets happy whenever Kakashi compliments his work.

Buys everyone’s coffees on the way to work and feeds the stray cats in alley

He can do portrait tattoos. They aren’t his favorite, but he’s more than capable of doing them.

Doesn’t toot his own horn as much as he should about his skills.

Most likely to get flustered if someone wants tattoos in “intimate” places. Actually prefers not to do those types of tattoo work and will apologetically decline.

He’s not going to sugarcoat if a tattoo is going to hurt. People ask about his throat piece and he’s brutally honest about how that one and the one on his his head felt.

Also the most likely to reprimand someone for their behavior

As arguably the most the most levelheaded person in the shop, he’s tired. There’s always someone about to get them a violation somehow.

He gets that they’re located in Uchiha territory, but he doesn’t like letting Shisui do whatever he wants in the shop. Sakura, stop letting him sit behind the counter.

Does gift drives and donates for kids in need. It just feels full circle for him in a way

Will tell Kakashi children shouldn’t be in a tattoo shop, but will end up holding baby Ryu anyways he can’t tell a baby no that is doing grabby hands

Would he ever take on an apprentice again, heck no. Did Sai turn out to be a great tattoo artist and eventually stop asking his clients odd questions, yes.

Is a little worried that Sai will get his feelings hurt by his jet setting girlfriend

Worried that Sakura is playing with fire befriending an Uchiha that makes people disappear, while being the ex of another Uchiha that is also her coworker, AND flirting with the owner of their shop’s biggest competition 💀

Worried about Naruto and his ho phase and why his alleged octopus tattoos look clearly like squids

Worried that everytime Sasuke walks out the door, it’ll be the last time they see him.

Wishes he didn’t know all this stuff to worry about, but gossip travels quick in this shop. So the least he can do is try to give some advice/guidance.

Green thumb. He’s the guy how has some obscenely overprice plants that will give you clippings from them if you ask for them. But also don’t touch or attempt to water his plants.

Has Pinterest boards just for different types of plants and wildlife

Even has a private board for the photographer Kakashi gives him.

Informs the shop when the next expo is and if it’s worth going it

Likes unwinding with good book and some wine after work

Invites Sai out because he knows Sai is even more of a homebody than himself

They either go out for drinks or Sai invites him and Genma to go to a strip club because they have good chicken wings

Thanks for corrupting Sai Naruto and Sakura💀

Does the flashlight thing

Has a hard time turning down gifts if the gifter is persistent. That’s how Chiha ended up getting him to take a cat figurine she swore he looked like.

[president-zebra]

astonishing

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It was quieter than usual in the garage. There was no Pat working on STRIPE or Courtney and Rick arguing about who they think the murderer was or the umpteenth time. It was as if the entire town was asleep.

The Pitstop was necessarily known for having this few customers or people present, but for a Friday afternoon, Beth found it almost unsettling that she was alone.

Ever since Cindy had supposedly turned over a new leaf, Cameron as well, the JSA had been at odds. The moment the last bell signaling the end of the school day, Rick huffed and all but marched out of Mr. Schneider’s class and made a turn straight for the back exit to the school.

She didn’t find any unfamilarity for the occurrence, considering Rick did a lot of huffing and storming out on a daily basis, but this seemed overexaggerated in Beth’s eyes.

She wasn’t used to being on the outs of the group, she always felt like she knew a little bit of everything from everyone else’s lives. It made her feel important, as though they trusted her with their deepest secrets and biggest regrets.

Courtney had invited her over for a study session at the pitstop that afternoon. But she was no where to be found when she arrived.

Jakeem, Mike’s friend she remembered from a few weeks ago, had said hi to her in passing before getting back on his bike to go home for the day.

So here she was, alone on the dinky couch that smelled of cat hair and barbeque sauce she didn’t want to ask Pat about.

Beth decided that if no one was going to be here she might as well get work done. She took out her lap top and her carefully labled, decorated folders and laid them out across the coffee table, pulling out her agenda to get started on work.

She couldn’t decide whether she wanted to start with her calculus homework or her history homework when she heard heavy footsteps approaching from just outside the garage.

Brown hair and flannel ducked underneath the half-open garage door, one strap of his backpack draped over his shoulder. There was the huff again, Beth noticed almost immediately as the boy approached her.

He flopped down in the arm chair opposite the sofa and squeezed his eyes shut in frustration.

Beth looked up from the derivative problem set and pushed her glasses further up the bridge of her nose.

“What’s wrong?” she asked quietly, giving him a small smile as she leaned back against the cushions.

“Nothing,” he muttered under his breath, averting his gaze to the floor. Beth did not like to pry when she absolutely didn’t have to, but she almost always felt an obligation when it came to her friends, especially Rick.

“Rick, come on, I saw how you left this afternoon, what happened?” she said softly. He said nothing, pulling out his phone and began to scroll through various apps.

If he didn’t want to talk to her, she wasn’t going to make him. She tried to distract herself, looking back at the numbers and letters in front of her, going over her flashcards, whatever she could do to get her mind off of Rick.

She decided to try and work on Chuck a bit more, see if she could unlock a new feature or enhance an already working one.

Beth pulled the goggles out of the secure pocket of her backpack and walked over to the shop table, laying it flat on the surface and looking around for a tool kit.

When she couldn’t find what she was looking for, she brought over her laptop and decided to try and upload the interface to her own desktop and work on it from there.

Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Rick had neatly stacked her folders on one end of the coffee table to be able to get started on his own work, she assumed.

The afternoon continued on, still no sign of Courtney, but Beth didn’t mind, she knew that they probably woudln’t have ended up studying anyway.

She decided to workout the new features she was working on and put the goggles on to try them out. She turned around in her chair, looking all around the room.

She passed her eyes quickly across Rick and on the screen Chuck spelled out in bold letters.

NERVOUS

“Rick, why are you nervous?” She questioned directly, immediately regretting her decision. He looked up from his chemistry worksheet, taking his earbud out of his ear.

“What?” He must not have heard her. She still had a chance to salvage this.

“Oh nothing, just, just Chuck picked something up and I thought out loud,” She lifted the goggles above her eyes.

Rick chuckled slightly, “I love when you do that,” He spoke so softly it was almost a whisper.

Now it was her turn to be confused, “what?”

He smiled, nodding to the song playing through the other earbud as he shook his head, popping the other one back in and gazing back down at this work.

She brushed it off, puting the goggles back on her head and looking around the room a few more times.

This time when her vision passed over Rick, the word changed and even visibly he was much more relaxed, but that’s not what the screen over her eyes told her.

ASTONISHED

The words stared back at her, taking over her entire line of vision, save for a few tufts of the boy’s hair peaking over the bold lettering. This time she was even more confused, no one else was in the room with them.

She walked over to him, sitting down on the couch beside him and tapping him on the shoulder.

“Oh, hi Beth, sorry if the music’s too loud, I can turn it down,”

“Oh, no I can’t even hear it, the volume’s just fine,” he smiled down at her, and she tried not to make direct eye contact. “Oh right, um, I was just wondering what you were working on,”

He took his earbuds fully out and placed his phone on the coffee table. He picked up the notebook and began tracing out problems with the eraser end of his pencil, explaining the various chemical equations to her, as if she didn’t already know them.

“That’s awesome Rick, I’m glad you’re enjoying it.” She smiled brightly up at him. He chuckled, placing his shoulder against hers, their knees knocking as he continued to talk about the various compounds and solutions.

Beth listened intently, placing her chin in the palm of her hand, soaking up every word he said. She wasn’t sure what this was, the slight change in temperature in the room she couldn’t attribute to the falling leaves. Her face felt warm, and her she was rubbing her hands together.

“Hey,” he whispered softly, twisting his body to hold her gaze, “what’s wrong? Are you hot? Do you need some water? Beth,” Rick asked gently, resting a hand on her knee.

Her eyes unknowingly flickered down and then looked back into his eyes.

“Yeah, um,” she cleared her throat, “I’m fine, I think it just got really warm in here,” the thermostat was set at 65.

“Sure,” he smiled, placing a hand on her back, “if you need anything, I’m here.”

She nodded, smiling slightly and then resting her head on his shoulder. She knew her heart was racing, and she knew that he glasses were falling down her face. But she knew that she felt calm and she felt cared for. She knew she was safe to feel special in this moment.

She knew he wasn’t the only one astonished anymore.