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spookyserenades · 3 days

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Trouvaille - Chapter Seventeen (M)

Pairing(s); BTS OT7 x Reader

Genre/Themes; Hybrid!AU, themes of the supernatural and the occult, religious themes, violence, hurt/comfort, horror, romance

Rated; 18+ for swearing, violence/gore, future sexual themes. Reader discretion is advised.

Word Count; 25.k (👹)

Trouvaille Masterlist

Trouvaille playlist

Updates on the 7th of each month

My laptop is going to burst in flames after this LMAO. HIII besties! Welcome to the angst train of Chapter Seventeen! Hold onto your hats because there are a lot of emotions going on in this update. Along with angst, we have fluff to balance it out, of course! Expect spooky/scary paranormal happenings, and dirty disgusting smut I have to stop writing when I ovulate BUT I sincerely hope you all love this extra long, on time (for once!) chapter! Love from Dana and can't wait to hear what you all think 💕

As an additional warning/reminder, for the smut: the scene is explicit, and is only intended to be read by those over the age of 18. Please practice safe sex, and readers please have discretion!

Previous Chapter

Blinking, not sure if she heard correctly, Y/N sat unceremoniously on Namjoon’s arm rest, nudging his hand off the laptop keyboard. Pressing the back button and slamming down on the space bar, she moved before Namjoon could stop her.

“Y/N–”

“To kill you, whorish witch.” Came from the speakers again, making Namjoon flinch and grunt, like the statement was disgusting in his ears. She played it a third time, then a forth, Namjoon uncomfortably squirming beside her. About to listen a fifth, Namjoon swore, placing a hand over hers and pulling it away from the laptop.

“That’s enough,” the wolf hybrid said gently, eyes scanning her face, searching Y/N’s blank expression thoroughly. “I’m sorry you had to hear that, I really didn’t want to show you.”

“Jeongguk was right to tell you to. Now I know that I’m going to have to bulk up on my protection magic,” Y/N responded distantly, honestly still shocked by what the entity said to her. It was something her brain didn’t necessarily know how to process– that an unseen force had a murderous intent towards her. Namjoon, making a feral noise in the back of his throat, narrowed his eyes.

“Y/N, I’m not saying I doubt your abilities, but this feels wrong. I don’t think you should go back to that house. If you write up a ritual for us to do, we can execute it together and you’ll be here, safe,” Namjoon shook his head as he spoke, ears flat against his skull. Y/N’s eyes went wide, caught between swooning and stiffening.

“You want to kick me off the case? No way, absolutely not, especially after hearing that recording. I’d walk into traffic before letting you two go there alone,” Y/N watched a muscle in Namjoon’s jaw tick, sucking his cheeks in and leveling her a challenging look. “I’m going. This changes nothing but how urgently we need to cleanse the property.”

“Y/N, it’s a bad idea. Jeongguk is experienced with shit like this,” Namjoon pressed, leaning back in his chair with his arms crossed over his chest. “We both want to do another investigation before we decide how to tackle getting rid of the infestation.”

“I don’t care, Namjoon, I’m going to be with you every step in this case. You can’t get rid of me,” Y/N stood, annoyed, and feeling undermined, she walked over to the bookcase in his room.

Sliding a finger along the spines of his and her combined book collection, searching for one in particular about protection magic, Y/N ignored the rumbles coming from Namjoon’s chest. When she turned, his head was in his hands, elbows leaning on the desk, dismayed. “Joon Bug, I know you’re worried, but it’ll be okay. I promise.”

“If anything happens to you, how will I reconcile that with myself? Knowing I just let you walk into a situation like that,” Namjoon muttered, seemingly to himself, making Y/N’s heart stop dead in her ribcage for a second.

“Namjoon,” Y/N sighed, returning to his side with the book she needed, hooking her chin over his shoulder from behind, some of the tension dissolving from his tense upper back. “I’ll be safe. I have you.”

She wound her arms around his shoulders for a hug, Namjoon still pressing his face into his hands. Clearly, he was more concerned for her well-being than she ever could have imagined, Y/N squeezing him tightly to comfort him. Truthfully, she was frightened of whatever threatened her in Julie’s room, hearing its voice out loud bone-chilling, but she had promised that family that the three of them would help them. Besides, she had banished something malevolent before with success, and she was fairly confident she could do it again– as long as Namjoon and Jeongguk were by her side, working as a team.

“Bug, why don’t you help me gather up some materials and maybe start brainstorming how we should clear the spirits from the house, hmm? I could use your help,” Y/N attempted to perk him up, his gloom filling the room, Namjoon making a noncommittal noise in response. “Please?”

Finally, Namjoon lifted his face from his palms, turning his face sideways to glance at her behind him, corners of his lips turned downwards.

“In the van?” Namjoon relented, contrary to his clear disapproval, letting her hold him for the longest time he ever had, and his musky honey scent made her mouth water, shamefully.

“Uh-huh! It’s our headquarters, after all,” Y/N giggled, lightening the mood even more, before she grew serious. “Thank you for worrying about me.”

With that, Y/N leaned forward, testing the waters and pecking his cheek lightly, Namjoon going rigid in her embrace with the press of her lips, nuzzling into him in hopes that she hadn’t crossed a line and he’d relax. Brain catching up with reality, Namjoon cleared his throat, blood rushing to the tips of his ears, melting backwards into her. And to her astonishment, the wolf hybrid turned his face even more, burying the tip of his nose into the crook of Y/N’s neck, breathing in deeply.

“I said it at the club, Y/N,” Namjoon’s voice took on a mellifluous quality, his breath against her throat causing the hairs on her nape to stand on end. “You’re a handful, you’re lucky I’m with you.”

“That’s right,” Y/N’s voice came out like silk, letting him nudge the tip of his nose against her collarbone, feeling a little light-headed. “I thank the stars.”

Chuckling at the corny reply and drawing away from her, Namjoon made a motion to get to his feet, twirling the keys to his van around a long fingertip. Finally, he was smiling, his perfect teeth and dimples on display, Y/N completely dazzled. With a twitch to his bitten ear, he nodded towards his bedroom door so they could exit together. To surprise her even further, Namjoon grabbed his denim and sherpa jacket from his bed, offering it to Y/N without hesitation and without looking at her, Y/N woodenly taking it from him.

“Since you seem to like wearing this so much, bundle up,” Namjoon commented, Y/N realizing that her scent was probably all over the garment from when she wore it to confront Yoongi many moons ago. “Let’s go.”

Namjoon left the room before she could shrug on the jacket, the wolf hybrid foregoing any sort of coat himself and simply pushing down the rolled-up sleeves of his cable knit sweater, expecting Y/N to follow. Blindly, she did, pulling his cozy jacket tight across her body with her heart racing in her chest.

Taking a deep, calming breath, Y/N rang the doorbell to her parent’s house, preparing herself for what might come out of her mother’s mouth. She had told her mother about the investigations her, Jeongguk, and Namjoon were starting to take control over, but there was no doubt that Judy– one of her mother’s very good friends, not just Y/N’s boss– had dished out dirty details. Behind the great oak door, she heard someone shuffling towards her in slippers, Y/N grateful she didn’t bring any of her hybrids with her for once.

“Hi honey, come on in while the tea’s hot,” her father, in a bright tracksuit and his house slippers, answered the door, Y/N giggling at his appearance. Gone were the days of her sharply dressed father, the doctor. Now he dressed like an extra on the set of Seinfeld. “You look well!”

Despite the fact that Y/N had a murderous demon after her blood, Y/N was in good spirits. She was always well fed thanks to Seokjin and Yoongi, there was never a day Hoseok didn’t brighten it with his humor, and she was finally doing something with her life that had her excited to jump out of bed in the morning. Giving her father a squeeze, she mumbled a thank you into his tracksuit, following him into the kitchen where her mother was audibly tinkering away on the stove.

“Your grandparents are napping, I’m not sure if you’ll get to see them before you leave today,” her father informed her, returning to where he was sitting at the kitchen table prior to Y/N’s arrival. “Hopefully whatever you wanted to discuss doesn’t involve getting your grandmother’s advice.”

“Oh, no. Just stuff you guys can handle,” Y/N waved a hand, plopping down next to him and eyeing the Italian cookies on the table. She never had a taste for them, but her father loved them to bits. “Okay. So first order of business that I’m hoping you can help me out with, dad! I need to get my boys a doctor and schedule yearly physicals. A dentist, too.”

“Yep, I can handle that,” her father accepted a cup of a strongly scented herbal tea without question, draining it in one go and handing it back to her mother.

Her mother, dressed in her typical drapey dresses and “shawl of the day”, distractedly squeezed Y/N’s shoulder in hello as she read the tea leaves at the bottom of her father’s teacup. Humming in satisfaction, she placed the cup in the sink, dialing into the conversation.

“Your luck is good today, dear,” her mother told her father, Y/N stifling a chuckle by biting down on the inside of her cheek. “How about David? Y/N, our dear friend is a general practitioner, a hybrid doctor. Dr. Rocha is his name!”

“I can make a call,” her father fumbled for his phone on the table, holding it far from his face so he could read the screen while he went through his contacts. “You can just bring your hybrids to your dentist, she takes on hybrid clients. I can schedule all of the appointments for you, honey, I know how busy you are.”

“Thanks, dad,” Y/N leaned her cheek into her father’s shoulder, relieved that something was being taken off of her plate for her. “How’s the book club going mom?”

“Same as always! We’re reading Kafka these next few weeks. Your boys have been such a wonderful addition to the club, Namjoon has always been the leader type. Seokjin has really been opening up lately!”

“Mm, has he?” The mention of Seokjin had heat pooling in her cheeks– Y/N hadn’t disclosed to her parents that she was romantically involved with both Seokjin and Yoongi, and she dreaded the day, to be honest. “That’s good! He’s come a long way with getting out of his shell.”

“So, what is it that you need to ask me, dear,” her mother saw through the small talk, and likely had some kind of premonition about what Y/N was needing her counsel on.

“We have to go back to the house we’re trying to cleanse and do a secondary investigation before we can tackle the actual cleansing. The spirits are… aggressive. I wanted to know if you had any ideas on how to up the protection for the three of us.”

Y/N, much like she wasn’t disclosing that she was dating two out of seven of her hybrids, wasn’t about to share that an entity was targeting her specifically as well. Not wanting to concern her father, and knowing that if her mother found out what the spirit actually said to her, she’d agree with Namjoon and want her to stay home.

“Have you tried the tourmaline necklaces?” her mother stirred sugar into her tea, humming when Y/N nodded in response. “I’ll give you some dragon’s blood incense, burn that while you’re in the house. Teach Namjoon and Jeongguk how to put up spiritual shields– they’re both smart boys so they’ll get it quick. Also, carry some selenite and citrine on you in addition to the tourmaline. Selenite will allow your spirit guides to better protect you and citrine combats negative energy.”

“That will be pretty bulletproof, right?” Y/N asked, grateful her parents were humans and couldn’t sense her nerves rising.

“Should be, my dear! Unless you’re dealing with something extremely powerful, doing all that should keep you safe,” her mother smiled, reaching across the table to grasp onto Y/N’s hand. “I’m so glad we can talk about things like this together again. I can’t tell you how excited I am for you and your two young boys.”

“Oh,” Y/N squeaked, taken aback, emotions welling up in her as her mother’s smile grew wider, squeezing her hand once before she stood from the table. “I love you, mom.”

“Love you too, honey. I’ll gather up the incense and the crystals, okay? I think I have some hematite rings somewhere in my storage too…” distractedly, Y/N’s mother ambled away further into the recesses of the home, her father chuckling with her disappearance.

“I booked the doctor’s visits for you, Dr. Rocha suggested doing two appointments per day so you’re not in the office for seven hours all at once. They’re in mid-March,” her father announced, ruffling Y/N’s hair. “Still waiting to hear from the dentist, but I think there’s enough techs to get all seven of them done in an afternoon. Sounds good?”

“Sounds perfect, thank you so much, dad,” Y/N checked her watch, noting that it was time for her to scramble home and pick up Jimin for an errand they had to run. “Shoot, I have to go.”

“Here you are, honey!” Y/N’s mother reappeared as her father walked her to the front door, a gift bag filled with the protection items in hand. “Oh, before you go, have you heard the whispers?”

“Whispers?” Y/N repeated, confused.

“There’s rumors about some new laws being passed, regarding hybrids,” she informed her, excitement clear as day on her face, so Y/N assumed they were good laws. “Adopted hybrids might be able to seek legal employment soon. I’ve heard that universities, too, are going to start offering classes for hybrid students. Isn’t that wonderful?”

Y/N paused, not expecting such a bombshell. If the rumors were true, her boys would be one step closer to living a more normal, human life, they wouldn’t have to stay at home all day, and they could make their own money to buy whatever they pleased. Additionally, if her mother was right, apparently the wheel of progress was speeding up. All Y/N could think about, though, is how the government should be thinking about banning hybrid sport hunting before all of that, but progress was progress and she didn’t want to rain on her mother’s parade.

“That would be amazing if that actually happens,” Y/N breathed, her mother handing over the gift bag with a grin. “I do want to hold off on mentioning it to the boys for now, though. I don’t want to get their hopes up if that’s just a rumor.”

“Of course,” her mother made a zipping motion over her lips, meaning she wouldn’t spill the beans to Namjoon or Seokjin at the book club. “I’ve been lighting candles for a week to try and move things along.”

“Hmm, influencing government affairs now, mom?” Y/N snorted, hugging her before she reached for the door. “Maybe I’ll light one too.”

“Bring the boys here Friday night for dinner! We’re going to make a big feast to celebrate Ostara coming up!”

“Ostara isn’t for another couple weeks!” Y/N replied, eyebrows furrowed. “You just want to see everyone, don’t you?”

“Bring them around 7, alright? Tell Yoongi to make those delicious mashed potatoes,” her mother ignored her accusation, waving at her from the front door as Y/N started down the street to her own house.

Back at the house, shivering, she found Jimin in the sunroom, where he had begun to nurse seedlings for their garden in the spring. She dropped off the bag of items her mother gave her in Namjoon’s room before she searched for the coyote hybrid, the wolf hybrid’s bedroom empty and telling her that he was probably holed up in the van. Jimin was in his trademark blue jeans and a cozy-looking beige sweater, using a little mister to dampen the trays of seedlings. The room smelled earthy-sweet and was bathed with early afternoon sunlight, most of the brick floors completely covered with all of the seedlings she and Jimin planted days prior.

“Hey, anything sprouting yet?” Y/N tiptoed around a pile of carefully swept soil, squinting at the trays.

“Not quite. We’re going to have to be patient,” Jimin sent a gorgeous smile her way in greeting, peeling off his gardening gloves and setting them aside. In the corner of the room was a small stack of books pertaining to plants and growing produce that Namjoon dug out of the oven in his van for her, a couple of old tin watering cans, and Jimin’s phone on top of the books, playing soft rock in the background. “I labeled everything with tape and markers. Looks okay?”

“Looks awesome. Meticulous as always, Jimin!” Y/N made a motion to water some of the other house plants around the room, but apparently the coyote hybrid had beaten her to the punch judging by the damp soil. “I’m so excited for spring. It’s been such a gross winter.”

“It’ll be here before you know it,” Jimin reminded her, looking down at his clothing to make sure soil wasn’t clinging to the fabrics. “We’re still heading out today, right?”

“How could I forget? I already put the third row in the Land Cruiser down so we can jam everything we buy in the trunk,” Y/N teased, dangling her hand in front of his face to help him up. His palm was rough from years of manual labor, but gentle and sure. With a swish of his tail, he rose to his feet, still smiling like an angel. “I’m ready when you are. Maybe we can get some lunch on the way back, if you’re up for it!”

“Okay, let me just get my jacket,” Jimin let go of her hand, which she didn’t even realize he was still holding, Y/N casting one more look at the perfectly labeled trays of seedlings, smiling at his neat handwriting. “Want me to drive?”

“Sure!” Y/N followed Jimin to the car once he slipped on his jacket and boots, calling out to the others in various areas of the house to let them know where they were heading.

“I saw that you updated the list of things we’re looking for,” Jimin commented after a few moments of comfortable silence in the car, Y/N scrolling through said list on her phone.

“I want to have the nicest backyard on the block! It’s been looking like a mess up until you started clearing things up,” Y/N replied enthusiastically. “Want to find a cute bird bath and a bunch of feeders, those ceramic outdoor lights you stick in the dirt and look like mushrooms… comfortable cushions for us to sit on, a fun sprinkler to run through when it’s hot.”

Jimin, as always, listened intently and quietly, Y/N watching the corners of his mouth curl upwards as she spoke.

“You sound like the woman talking about her dream house in The Notebook,” Jimin commented, Y/N blinking before she remembered she had made all of the boys watch the film during the afternoon on Valentine’s day. She could still hear Jeongguk’s gagging from the leather recliner– although, he did end up watching the entire thing without her having to strap him down. “Allie, right?”

“Yeah, that’s right! I believe you were the only one who ended up liking that movie,” Y/N giggled, though the comment had butterflies soaring in her stomach. “Now that I think about it, you’re like Noah. Doing all the hard work to make the house pretty!”

The words fell out of her mouth before she could stop them, and immediately, mortification washed over her. With her being Allie and him being Noah, she was pretty much implying that they were star-crossed lovers– since he was helping her fix up the house in the way she wanted precisely. Considering using her window breaker and climbing out onto the freeway, Y/N tried to come up with a way to stuff the words back down her throat. All she managed to come up with was staring at Jimin with obvious alarm, his ears twitching.

Sensing her panic, Jimin surprised her by clearing his throat and chuckling, Y/N realizing his ears were twitching out of amusement. Still gaping at him, Jimin’s eyes turned into crescents while he laughed, shaking his head.

“I guess that is true,” Jimin coughed once he recovered from laughter, Y/N hiding her embarrassment by returning to the list on her phone. “You do your fair share of the hard work too, Y/N.”

She could have kissed Jimin for not teasing her. If it had been any of the others she had said that to besides he or Namjoon, she’d never hear the end of it. Once she finally regained mental facilities, she continued to talk about her plans for the backyard as if she hadn’t said anything.

“We can get some wind chimes, new umbrellas, Oh! I saw this thing online that looks like a mini picnic table, you use it as a squirrel feeder. If we find that at the store, we’re so getting it!”

“Whatever you want, Y/N. If there are things you want to get that don’t fit in the car, we’ll have it shipped,” Jimin pulled into the strip mall where The Home Depot was, pushing a hand through his blonde hair and still wearing an expression of merriment.

The coyote hybrid refused to let her push the flatbed cart around the store, which left Y/N to pick out everything she had on her list and more. Halfway through the trip, she had to abandon Jimin and get a normal cart for smaller items, Jimin laughing at her when she stacked boxes of the light-up mushrooms into the basket.

“I think that’s plenty of bird seed,” Jimin was leaning on his elbows on the cart, eyebrows raised and ears perky and alert, watching Y/N haul a bag of seed off of a shelf.

“This isn’t bird seed, it’s for critters. Squirrels and rabbits!” Y/N defended herself, tossing the bag into the cart and ignoring Jimin’s snickers. “Okay… I think we just need to get the fertilizer now, and it’s at the opposite side of the store.”

Y/N eyed the houseplant section as they passed by it, Jimin giving her a knowing but warning look, yellow eyes narrowing playfully. Huffing, she pushed ahead, and while she was pretending to be annoyed, she was really enjoying her one-on-one time with Jimin. The domestic activity had thoroughly distracted her from the Sanders’ case that was weighing heavily on her mind. While Jimin was hefting a bag of fertilizer onto his flatbed, Y/N gawked at the corded muscles of his back beneath his sweater, the coyote hybrid oblivious as his tail swished contentedly. Before she could get too carried away with checking him out, Jimin somehow read her deeper thoughts, appearing to brace himself.

“Y/N, can I ask you something?” Jimin licked his lips, growing serious.

“Of course,” Y/N replied, suddenly nervous and on guard.

“The past few days I’ve noticed a change in Namjoon’s behavior. He seems really worried about you. Does it have anything to do with that case you’re working on with him and Jeongguk?”

Mouth opening and closing, she wasn’t sure how to respond. As per usual, it wasn’t like she could lie to Jimin and pretend everything was rainbows and butterflies. So, Y/N did what she always tried to do with her hybrids– be honest, but try to prevent them from being overly concerned about her.

“Yeah, the spirits are very nasty. He’s worried I’ll get hurt, but I swung by my mom’s earlier today for extra protection items. I keep telling him I’ll be fine, but you know how he is,” Y/N answered nonchalantly, Jimin frowning.

“He told me you guys captured audio that specifically threatened you,” Jimin said flatly, his ears turning downwards. Damn Namjoon, and damn she wasn’t getting out of that by being a slippery truth-bender. “What did the audio say?”

Y/N cringed, not wanting to repeat the disgusting statement at all, but Jimin was staring at her so intensely she knew they weren’t budging from that home improvement store until she told him.

“The thing in one of the children’s bedrooms threatened to kill me,” Y/N answered simply, shrugging. “I guess we’ll just have to exorcize the house before it gets the chance.”

Y/N resumed perusing the fertilizer in order to break the intense eye-contact Jimin was giving her, one of the first times he genuinely made her skin break out into goosebumps. Unfortunately, she was peering back up into those hardened butterscotch eyes when a roughened hand grabbed onto her wrist.

“Y/N, don’t just shrug that off like it’s nothing. You have to tell everyone else,” Jimin’s voice was gruff, firm, and Y/N was blinking at him stupidly.

“Why? Jimin, I don’t want you all fussing over me. Namjoon is already enough to deal with, he doesn’t even want me to go back to the house,” Y/N furrowed her eyebrows, picturing a range of reactions from the other hybrids in response to the audio.

“Why? Y/N, don’t you realize if something happens to you, it will seriously affect us all?” Jimin gaped, as if she was being totally ridiculous. Suddenly, she felt immensely guilty, and justifiably so. “Think about Yoongi and Seokjin, at least. They would be devastated.”

Y/N’s throat was closing up, now imagining Seokjin’s tears and heartbreak, Yoongi’s misery– it was absolutely unbearable. Swallowing, she nodded at Jimin, who softened when he scented the emotions that came from her.

“I’m sorry, Jimin. I should have considered that, keeping it from you all would be so selfish of me. I’ll… have Namjoon show you guys the audio tonight,” Y/N apologized, a tad watery, all of the reproach on Jimin’s face disappearing.

“It’s alright, Y/N. I know you’re just trying to put on a brave face, but you can lean on us a little, you know? We’re supposed to worry about each other,” Jimin let go of her wrist, patting her shoulder gently.

“You’re right,” Y/N looked at the floor, glum. Jimin, humming, kept patting her shoulder until she looked at him again. “Again, I’m sorry…”

Jimin shook his head, his normally easy-going air returning, giving her shoulder a squeeze.

“All good, Y/N. We can talk about it more, later. I think you should hear everyone out before you decide whether or not to go back to that house,” Jimin returned to the flatbed he was pushing, Y/N not looking forward to that conversation at all. “We have everything, right? Want to head to the registers? I can bring the car around while you check out so we can load everything up, then we can get some lunch.”

Y/N followed her coyote hybrid to the register, still dwelling over Seokjin and Yoongi. She wondered, if she was seriously hurt or even killed, how they would process that. Hannah mentioned that if Seokjin’s heart was broken one more time, he might not survive it. Would Yoongi survive her disappearing from his world again? Guilt festered away her very being, and she couldn’t believe she hadn’t even considered confiding in either both of them. Nauseous, she started robotically placing items on the conveyor belt, Jimin leaving her there to get the car.

Waiting by the door, she painted a smile on her face when she watched him pull up, helping him place everything into the trunk. With her stomach still turning and a half-hour ride back to the house, Y/N poked Jimin in the back.

“I’m going to run back in to use the bathroom, okay? I’ll meet you back out here in a few,” Y/N announced, Jimin waving her away as he slid yet another box of light-up mushrooms into the stuffed-full trunk.

Chewing her lip, Y/N searched for the sign for the restrooms, trying her best to hurry and not keep Jimin waiting. However, as she passed by the houseplant section again, she paused– before grabbing another cart and selecting seven different plants.

“Holy shit, do you think you bought enough crap?” Jeongguk grunted as he collapsed into the breakfast nook, wiping sweat from his brow. Y/N enlisted his help in getting everything out of the car along with Jimin, and he had carried the stone birdbath she picked out about halfway across the yard while muttering expletives the whole time.

“It’s your fault for being the first one I spotted when we pulled in. Blame your smoke breaks, not me,” Y/N flicked his sweaty forehead, his dark eyes flashing. She had yet to discuss the audio with him specifically, and she had the feeling he was avoiding the subject entirely– besides, he had been holed up in his room for days, fiddling with his cameras. “Need help with dinner, angel?”

Y/N spun on her heel, spotting Yoongi by the fridge, putting a tub of ricotta cheese away. His hair, longer than ever, was tied up, and he was dressed in a slouchy hoodie, one that she wanted to get inside with him. Approaching, she looked around the island, and it appeared that he didn’t really need help with anything at all; a large garden salad sitting in a wooden bowl tossed and ready to go, a covered casserole dish with spicy spaghetti, and when she looked at the stove, there were several skillets going with pork chops searing away.

“Wow, chef, it’s like you don’t even need your sous anymore,” Y/N pouted, wiggling her fingers against his ribs and reaching up to give his ears a scratch. Yoongi had gotten used to her stroking through the glossy fur, so he only jolted about a centimeter.

“My sous is Seokjin now. You’re like chef de partie,” Yoongi teased, and to both her delight and slight embarrassment, turned his head and ducked it, capturing her lips in a sweet, simple kiss hello.

Eyes fluttering shut, she let herself melt into his taste, completely ignoring Jeongguk’s gagging behind them. Squeezing the side of his waist, she made a small noise of disappointment when his lips slid from hers, opting to plant one more kiss on her forehead before returning to his pork chops.

“Get a room,” Jeongguk muttered, scrolling through his phone with his nose wrinkled.

“Get a life,” Yoongi replied blandly, using tongs to turn over one of the pork chops. Offering the leopard hybrid a kiss of her own with a quiet snicker, one on the tip of his nose, she concluded that Yoongi was perfectly fine on his own. Which meant she had no excuse to avoid finding Namjoon and telling him to get the audio ready to play after dinner.

Trudging into the hall, she heard Jimin’s shower turn on, the pipes in the walls clanging. Despite the fact that Jimin had that stern talking-to with her in the store, lunch at a diner and the ride back home was pleasant, even though she had returned from the “bathroom” with seven additional purchases. She followed her ears, the tinny sounds of folk tapes playing from Namjoon’s room. Knocking twice on his ajar bedroom door, the wolf hybrid was reading on his window seat, chewing on the end of a pen with a sharpened incisor.

“Hey,” Y/N began, glancing at her laptop sitting on his desk, scribbled notes and crumpled paper littered around the device. “I need a favor.”

Namjoon looked up from his book, the crease that had been between his eyebrows since he analyzed the audio deepening when he saw her leaning against his doorframe. The wolf hybrid slid a bookmark in place, squaring his shoulders so he could face her.

“A favor,” Namjoon repeated, eyes skimming her from head to toe as if to search for anything awry. “What do you need?”

“I’m going to play that audio for everyone after dinner. It’s only fair, Jimin pointed that out to me. I agree with him,” Y/N said, the fur on Namjoon’s tail standing on end and his normally sharp eyes going round.

“Do you really think that’s wise?” Namjoon exclaimed, getting to his feet and knocking his book off of the window seat.

“Yeah, I do. If something happens and they didn’t know about it…”

“Nothing is going to happen,” Namjoon cut her off sternly, his gaze becoming analytical again. “If you want to show them, go ahead. But nothing is going to happen to you.”

Y/N swallowed at the resolution in his tone, still not quite used to how protective Namjoon had become of her. Nodding meekly, she gestured towards the laptop.

“I’ll play it for them after dinner. I don’t think a demon calling me a whore is a very good appetizer,” Y/N whispered, hoping that Namjoon was the only one who could hear her at that moment. Namjoon flinched, hissing, his face becoming stormy.

“You shouldn’t joke about it, Y/N.”

“Humor is how I cope. Ask Hoseok, he does the same thing,” Y/N grouched, and she could tell Namjoon was getting even more pissed with that comment, so she changed the subject. “Did you look through that bag I left you? My mom gave me a bunch of good tips and materials for added layers of protection.”

“Yeah, I looked through it,” Namjoon was definitely still irritated, his tail swishing back and forth angrily, though he paused when his phone chimed in his pocket. “Dinner’s ready.”

Namjoon brushed by her, not sparing her one last glance, Y/N sighing and mouthing ‘sorry’ to his retreating form. Starting to follow after him, she went rigid when she felt a pair of arms wrap snugly around her waist, squeezing tightly until she wheezed. It was only when she felt kisses showering over the side of her face that she knew who it was, going limp in his strong arms.

“Hi, Jin,” Y/N giggled, the heaviness of her interaction with Namjoon dissolving with the tenderness Seokjin showered upon her. “How was your day, honey?”

“Severely lacking without you,” Seokjin admitted, an almost whine to his voice. “I missed you so much.”

“I missed you, too,” Y/ N hummed, relaxing backwards into his chest and placing her hands over his, resting on her stomach. “It’s your turn to pick a movie or show tonight!”

“Mm-hmm,” Seokjin returned, though she had a feeling he wasn’t listening as he tucked his face in her neck from behind, planting tiny kisses on the exposed skin and his tail winding around her leg.

“Come on, you. Let’s eat,” Y/N tried to untangle herself from Seokjin’s ironclad grip around her middle, but he wouldn’t ease up his hold until she murmured ‘I love you’ into his wavy hair. “Big kitty.”

Seokjin walked beside her, asking about her day as they returned to the kitchen. In her absence, Hoseok had bounced into the room, skin dewy from his evening run and positively glowing with endorphins. Shoving aside what they were having for dessert– demonic threats– she began making herself a plate, Taehyung entering the room with his eyes glued to his phone. Y/N wasn’t sure if he had downloaded a new interesting game over the past week, but he was thoroughly invested in whatever he was doing on the device. Shrugging, watching the Kodiak hybrid absently take a plate, she loaded up her own with salad and pasta.

Dinner passed by perfectly normally, other than the fact that Namjoon still wasn’t very pleased with her and judging by the way Jeongguk was eyeing her carefully, the wolf hybrid had updated him on what was to come after they finished eating. While Taehyung helped her wash dishes, Namjoon disappeared. The kitchen was clean and everyone was still hanging out, digesting, before they inevitably moved to the parlor for a movie. Y/N’s palms began to sweat when Namjoon returned with the laptop, Jimin making eye contact with her from across the room, nodding once with encouragement. Jeongguk was by the slider door to the backyard, the glass cracked open as he lit up a cigarette to smoke out of it.

Namjoon setting the laptop on the island somehow commanded attention, or perhaps it was the way he was carrying himself in that moment, grave and full of authority. Even Yoongi paused his wipe-down of the stove, his spotted ears perking up.

“House meeting,” Jeongguk announced dryly, staring out the window and flicking ash outside.

“Huh? New chore chart or something?” Hoseok was holding a popsicle, watching Namjoon set up the laptop, Y/N gritting her teeth, joining the wolf hybrid at the island, glancing up at the tall hybrid and searching for any kind of comfort. All he offered were drooped ears and his mouth set in a grim line.

“Uh, no. It’s about… you know the thing Namjoon, Jeongguk and I have been investigating for my job? The consults we do for haunted locations,” Y/N began, beating around the bush and feeling Namjoon trudge off to the corner of the room, at Jeongguk’s side. “This first case, we captured some audio in one of the bedrooms. And… I think you guys should hear it, because it was about me.”

The room was completely quiet, Taehyung turning off the faucet and setting down the pan he was scrubbing, and Seokjin materializing beside her in half a heartbeat, worry all over his angelic face. No one said a word, Y/N’s hands shaking as they hovered over the keyboard, and without further ado, she hammered down on the space bar to play the recording.

“What is your name?”

Static, and Seokjin holding his breath beside her.

“How old are you?”

More static, Yoongi flanking her other side.

“Why are you here?”

“Watching.”

“How many spirits are on this property? Are you alone?”

“Many are here.”

Y/N didn’t dare look up from the laptop as the audio crackled, the highlighted section labeled “Julie’s room” fast approaching, and she braced herself, eyes squeezing shut.

“Why are you here?”

“To kill you, whorish witch.”

Y/N expected an outcry of rage, but when the audio ended, the room was deathly quiet, the reedy, disturbing voice of the entity ringing out in the large kitchen eerily. She shut the laptop quickly, feeling her blood pressure rise at the lack of response. Then, all at once, chaos.

“There’s no fucking way you’re going back, are you–” Yoongi started, gripping the granite counter top like he was going to pass out, Seokjin’s voice tangling with his–

“Kill? Can a ghost actually do that? Jeongguk–” Seokjin was desperately holding on to Y/N’s shoulders like she was about to be taken from him and ritually sacrificed, his expression more panicked than she had ever seen it.

Head spinning, she felt Seokjin shaking her shoulders, beside himself, Yoongi still cursing and telling Y/N she shouldn’t go back, she can’t go back. The beginnings of an anxiety attack clutched at her oxygen-starved lungs, Yoongi and Seokjin so distraught she hardly noticed how everyone else was faring.

“Please, please, Y/N. You can’t get hurt,” Seokjin begged, and she swore she saw tears gathering in the corners of his eyes. Truly, the image she had conjured up in her head earlier at the home improvement store paled in comparison to reality; reality was absolutely hellish.

“Calm down, you two,” Jeongguk called from the slider, tossing his half-smoked cigarette into the outdoor ashtray. “Give her a few inches of space.”

Seokjin did not obey, but he loosened his hold on her shoulders, lips slamming shut. Yoongi stopped swearing, but his knuckles were white with how tightly he was holding onto the island. She tore her eyes from Seokjin’s watery ones, whipping her head towards the elk hybrid, who seemed determined and confident. Y/N supposed it wasn’t exactly a shock to him, as he heard the audio before, and had probably dealt with entities like that in his past. Namjoon was standing beside him like a club bouncer, stony and aloof.

The others, however, were watching Yoongi and Seokjin with great surprise. Those two were usually the more calm and collected of the bunch, so to see them become slightly hysterical was definitely a shock. Jimin, at the breakfast nook, was white as a sheet– Y/N hadn’t disclosed the entity’s exact wording, and he looked like he was going to be sick. Hoseok, a statue by the refrigerator, had wide eyes and mango juice running down his wrist as his forgotten popsicle melted all over him.

“Y/N, listen to me. Tell me you’re not planning on going back to that house,” Yoongi tried to compose himself, head down as he stared at her, Y/N’s lower lip wobbling at the look on his face.

“I–”

“She is,” Namjoon answered for her, bluntly and with deep resentment. “Don’t even bother trying to talk her out of it.”

Yoongi sagged, head in hands, apparently the words striking home. Yoongi was well aware of Y/N’s stubbornness, and that if she set her mind to accomplish something, nothing would tear her away from trying. Finally, Seokjin’s hands slid from her shoulders, turning his head sideways and using the back of his hand to swipe under his eyes, defeated.

“Wait. This is fucking nuts. You’re telling me you recorded a ghost saying that to you?” Hoseok dumped his half-melted popsicle in the sink, regaining motor function and scoffing, however, the green tint to his skin gave away the fact that the resident skeptic was starting to believe, at least a little.

“No, it was the sound of the wind, dipshit,” Jeongguk rolled his eyes, but he crossed his arms over his chest and focused on Y/N. “Y/N is a big girl. She’s stronger than you think. Let her make her own decisions.”

“You didn’t answer me. Can it actually kill her?” Seokjin’s tone was darker than ever, and he left her side to stalk over to Jeongguk. Growls came from the back of his throat, towering over Jeongguk at that moment, though the elk hybrid simply assessed Seokjin lazily.

“Short answer, yes,” Jeongguk answered honestly, Y/N’s stomach dropping as she attempted to soothe Yoongi with a hand on his back– only to find it shaking. “But it’s rare. Usually happens during a demonic possession, and a possession takes weeks, sometimes months, to happen. Relax, jaguar, get out of my face. We’ve been monitoring her all week, the spirit didn’t follow us home. It was probably threatening her because it knows she has the ability to banish it.”

Seokjin, again, did not listen to Jeongguk, baring his teeth at the elk hybrid with his tail violently thrashing behind him.

“I don’t want her there, either. But like Jeongguk said, you have to let her make her own choices,” Namjoon cut in, putting a broad palm between Jeongguk and Seokjin’s chests. Sick of them talking about her like she wasn’t in the room, Y/N removed her hand from Yoongi’s back, spinning around to glare at the three in the corner of the kitchen.

“I don’t want this turning into a fight. Can we just talk like adults? I know it’s… startling to hear. But you all have to give me some credit, can’t you? I mean, I was able to banish the demon from this house. I lived with the attachment for years prior to even knowing any of you, and was never physically harmed.”

“But Y/N–” Hoseok began, however, Y/N held her hand out to stop him.

“I promised the Sanders family I would help them. To back out on that promise out of fear is cowardly bullshit. There are children in that house, living with that thing. If that’s how it threatened me, someone who had only been in the building twice, what is it saying about the kids?”

The room fell into silence again. Realizing she hadn’t heard a peep from Taehyung, she looked around the room, each of her hybrids in various states of discomfort, anger, and distress– the latter of which affecting Yoongi the most.

“I think– I think I need some air,” Seokjin broke the silence, cracking open the slider even further and slipping outside, Y/N’s heart breaking.

“Y/N? Are you alright?” Y/N froze, Taehyung’s soulful, resonant voice came from behind her, making her flinch in surprise. Those days, he really didn’t talk to her unless he had to, considering he was so glued to his phone or his camera it was nearly impossible to get his attention, so hearing him address her specifically had tingles shooting down her spine.

“I’m okay, Tae,” Y/N softened, his usual kind, trusting face appearing in front of her, reaching out to take her trembling hands. “Are you?”

“I believe in you,” he responded quietly, tugging her forward slightly to give her a brief hug, something she didn’t realize she needed so bad. “If you go, promise you’ll come back.”

“Oh, I promise,” Y/N mumbled into his shoulder, her hands fisting in the fabric of his sweater over his lower back. It was the most physical contact she had from Taehyung in a long while, and the fact that he offered her comfort while the others dissolved into pieces had her heart galloping in her chest. “Everything is going to be okay. I’ll come back to you all in one piece, I swear.”

Taehyung let her go, nodding once, taking her promise as an oath. Y/N bristled when Namjoon approached, swiping up the laptop, his iciness slightly dissipating when he noticed how much it affected her. Placing a palm on top of her head, somewhat awkwardly, Namjoon left the room with his bitten ear flickering and Jeongguk close behind. Taking a deep, shuddering breath, she worried for Seokjin, outside in the cold without a coat, she worried for Yoongi, pale and hunched over beside her, and Hoseok and Jimin looked like neither of them could wrap their heads around the entire situation.

“Um… I’m gonna try and get Jin to come back inside,” Hoseok cleared his throat after rinsing the melted mango popsicle off of his forearm and wrist, not bouncing back as quickly as he usually did after an uncomfortable situation. “Jimin, set up the TV.”

Although the fox hybrid wasn’t totally bouncing back just yet, Y/N suspected he was trying to grasp onto normalcy by not abandoning their nightly routine. Taehyung, sparing her one last meaningful look, whisked himself away to the parlor, and Y/N heard him shoving more logs into the fireplace distantly. Jimin, slowly, got up from his seat, heeding Hoseok’s suggestion and bringing his glass of whiskey along with him, leaving her and Yoongi alone. She had an inkling that they all left the room on purpose, for Y/N to attempt to soothe Yoongi, but she didn’t know where to start. “Yoongi, baby,” Y/N murmured, the leopard hybrid still leaning over the counter with his head in his hands. “Look at me.”

Yoongi didn’t budge, but he began muttering to himself, far too quietly for Y/N to hear what he was saying. His tail was completely still, limp, ears drooped, and Y/N felt terrible for being responsible for his misery.

“Please, look at me? Yoongi?” Y/N tried again, hesitantly placing a hand on his bicep, yelping when he straightened, immediately yanking Y/N into his chest, shoving his face into her neck and clawing at her back through her blouse. “O-oof. Angel…”

At least he stopped shaking, hugging her so tight the breath was stolen from her lungs, the leopard hybrid manipulating her head so it similarly rested in the crook of his neck. She stopped speaking, letting him hold her silently, stroking her hands through his hair– somehow, in all of the chaos, his elastic band came loose, his inky hair falling messily around his face.

“I can’t lose you again,” Yoongi finally spoke, voice scratchy with emotion. “I can’t.”

“You won’t,” Y/N answered immediately, clutching him close, not even caring that his fingernails were scraping up the skin of her back. “Never again.”

“Baby,” Yoongi moved, cradling the back of her head so she was pressed against his chest– and for once, he wasn’t purring. “I won’t try to convince you not to go anymore, but…”

“You don’t want me to,” Y/N finished for the leopard hybrid when he trailed off, pressing a kiss to his chest through his hoodie.

“Goes without saying,” Yoongi held her so tight, she thought he would never let go. “But I know you. I need you to be careful, Y/N.”

Y/N had no response. She simply held onto Yoongi, smoothing her hands up and down his back, blinking away tears. While everyone’s reactions had her worried, if anything, it made her even more determined to not only banish the spirits in the Sanders’ home, but also come back perfectly whole and triumphant.

“I love you, Y/N. Please be careful,” Yoongi whispered after a few moments, kissing the top of her head, easing up on his hold on her. She returned the sentiment, a palm on one of his cheeks, pressing her forehead to his. “Come back to me.”

Y/N shushed him, a tear tracking down her cheek, by kissing him gently, his lower lip between hers as they held onto each other like lifelines. She didn’t deepen the kiss any further, the chaste lock of their lips more like a promise than anything else, and when Yoongi pulled away, he released her from his embrace. He wiped the tear running down her cheek with a thumb, a crooked smile on his face, despite the heavy mood.

“Only you can bring Seokjin inside, go rescue Foxy,” Yoongi grunted, nodding towards the door. Moving towards the glass, she paused, looking over her shoulder.

“I love you, Yoongi.”

It had taken her thirty whole minutes to get Seokjin back inside. Hoseok had scrambled away as soon as she was out on the patio with them, Seokjin sitting on a lawn chair staring despondently into the distance. In the end, it was her thorough explanation of all of the protective tools she’d be using, how she’d leave the house at the first sign of danger, and pinky-swearing that she’d call him as soon as they concluded the second investigation that got him to budge. That night, Seokjin insisted on sleeping with her, tucking her under his chin and clinging to her like glue.

In the days that followed, Y/N started to get a little annoyed by how everyone was tip-toeing around her, as if she was going to burst into flames at any moment. She put her focus on Namjoon and Jeongguk, teaching them how to create an energy shield for themselves, which as her mother predicted, was incredibly easy for them to pick up. Jeongguk– and Taehyung, when he was around– seemed like the only two who weren’t staring at her with puppy dog eyes, pleading for her to reconsider following through on the investigation. No matter how cute Jimin was, Y/N wasn’t budging.

It was the day before the second investigation, a Tuesday and the last day of February, and Y/N was packing her overnight bag in her room. Tucking a first-aid kit into the pocket of the bag, Y/N hoped she wouldn’t have to use it. Yoongi and Seokjin had been up her ass the entire day, and she finally caught a break when Yoongi took one of the cars to Ben’s for Daisy’s piano lesson, and Seokjin had managed to peel himself from her long enough to help Jimin drag the completed garden beds out of the stable.

Pushing a hand through her hair, she packed an extra sweatshirt– one of Yoongi’s, just in case she got cold or needed the comfort of his scent, and Seokjin gave her his stuffed alpaca to bring as a companion, a “protector”, as he worded it. She was about ready to take her evening shower and nod off, considering she’d be up the entire night the next day, when a knock came to her bedroom door. Thinking it was Seokjin, she pressed a palm to her forehead and prayed for patience.

“Coming,” she called, hastily zipping her bag and tossing it by the foot of her bed. However, when she swung the door open, the hybrid standing there wasn’t Seokjin, it was Hoseok, his hands shoved in the pockets of his sweats and his ears drooping to either side of his head.

“Hey, Hoseok, how was practice?” Y/N asked, eyes on his semi-damp wavy locks from his post-practice shower. “Beat any records today?”

Hoseok shook his head, the crewneck sweatshirt he was wearing hugging his lean frame just so. Hoseok wasn’t one to typically drop by her room, if he needed her, he’d usually text or video call and she’d join him in the basement to hang out. Stepping aside wordlessly, Y/N motioned for him to come in, noticing how quiet he was.

“What’s up? Want to do some yoga with me or something? I could use some meditation before tomorrow,” Y/N flopped down onto her bed, Hoseok imperceptibly flinching at the mention of the following day.

“Actually, I wanted to talk to you about your plans for tomorrow,” Hoseok scratched his chin, slowly lowering himself beside her on the bed and resting his palms on his knees.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I wondered if I could be the one to talk you out of it, if anybody,” Hoseok confessed, a reluctant look on his face.

Puzzled, Y/N stared at him, waiting for him to continue, but all he did was seemingly collect his thoughts, twiddling his thumbs together. Opening her mouth, she was about to repeat the speech she had given each of them at least a half dozen times already, but Hoseok cleared his throat and stalled her.

“Hear me out darling?” Hoseok grimaced, his jaw tensing. “Just for a minute.”

“I’m listening,” Y/N conceded, knowing that when Hoseok was that serious and the golden light left his eyes, he had something important to say.

“You know I don’t really believe in that hocus-pocus crap you, the wolf, and Jeongguk do. Even back in August… I played along when they did that weird ritual on you, but honestly I thought you just had a little bit too much to drink and fell in the hallway,” he began, glancing at Y/N’s vanity, which now held various materials for her practice such as dried herbs and bells. “I don’t like things I can’t explain. I can’t explain what I heard on that recording, and Y/N… I have a bad feeling.”

Y/N didn’t take the first half of Hoseok’s statement offensively. She was familiar enough with Hoseok to know that while he wasn’t exactly a believer in the supernatural, he respected her practice and humored her whenever she offered him cleansing bath salts or asked to waft rosemary smoke around his bedroom. She wasn’t the kind of person to force her beliefs on anyone else, so she was totally fine with the fact that Hoseok didn’t believe in what went bump in the night.

“A bad feeling, just like everyone else?” Y/N half-smiled, nudging Hoseok in the ribs. Unlike Namjoon or Jimin, Hoseok didn’t mind her trying to find a semblance of humor in the situation– if she didn’t, she’d crumble into a nervous wreck.

“I get it, you’re probably sick to the back teeth of hearing everyone telling you that you should stay here. For once, I agree with them,” Hoseok nudged her back, mirroring her half-smile. “If what you recorded really was… something paranormal or whatever, I don’t like that it’s targeting you.”

“Well, remember what Jeongguk said? It probably only said that to me because I was the one conducting the EVP session, and it could sense that I know how to banish evil spirits. Sure, it’s a scary thing to hear about oneself, though.”

“Yeah, well, I don’t really care what the elk has to say. He’s self-serving,” Hoseok hissed, the mood shifting suddenly, Y/N surprised that Hoseok sounded so aggravated.

“That’s not fair, Hoseok,” Y/N scolded gently, the fox hybrid standing from her bed and staring out of the window into the back yard. “Jeongguk cares. He’s experienced, too. With him there, you should feel better, not worse.”

“He’s self-serving,” Hoseok repeated, making Y/N roll her eyes. Hoseok was like her twin; stubborn, and once he formulated an opinion, it was hard for him to let it go or see it change. “What are the chances I can convince you to stay?”

“Slim-to-none,” Y/N got up as well, joining the fox hybrid by her window, peering up at him curiously. His expression was stormy, his lips pressed into a thin line, and it made Y/N shiver.

“Fantastic,” Hoseok replied flatly, narrowing his eyes at Y/N. The humor had evaporated the room at that point, Y/N’s half-smile disappearing.

“Hoseok,” Y/N groaned, tired of having the same conversation over and over again. “You don’t even believe in this stuff. I’ll be perfectly fine, okay?”

“Okay? And what if you’re wrong?” Hoseok shot back, hands on hips and cornering her against a wall, staring down at her beneath his nose. “What then?”

“Well, I guess you’ll have a new reason to believe, then,” Y/N grit her teeth, entirely over the whole debate. She didn’t know how many times she would have to repeat that she’s fine, she’ll be fine, and that they’re all suffocating her with worry. However, her usually well-received sarcasm, at least by Hoseok, did not land gracefully that time.

“Don’t say that,” Hoseok’s voice was all gravel and menace, anger flashing in his eyes, turning the irises from caramel to mocha.

“Sorry,” Y/N immediately apologized, her spine now flush with the wall beside her bed, Hoseok trapping her there. “It was just a joke, I didn’t mean it seriously.”

“I’m aware that we have the kind of relationship where we can joke around, but not about your safety, Y/N,” Hoseok’s tone softened, but there was a dangerous edge to it, his eyes skimming her from head to toe as she cowered in front of him, chastised. “On my birthday. The only reason why I agreed to go to a club was because I knew all seven pairs of our eyes would be on you. You only have Namjoon and Jeongguk this time.”

“Hoseok…” Y/N sobered, the fox hybrid so close to her, she was drowning in his fresh, woodsy cologne. “I promised I’d come back in one piece. For you, for all of you. I take my promises seriously.”

Hoseok paused, considering, using a forefinger and thumb to pinch the bridge of his nose. He took a deep breath, one that had his rib cage expanding quite a bit, Y/N chewing on her lip and placing a hand on the side of his neck tenderly, feeling his erratic pulse under her thumb.

“Fighting with you…” Hoseok’s throat bobbed, his shoulders sagging. “Sucks. It really fuckin’ sucks.”

“Then let’s not fight. Trust me Hoseok, hmm? We still have so many places to go, you and I. Our road trip this spring to New York, going to Disney World eventually, remember? I’m not about to let a skanky ghost prevent us from traveling the world together,” Y/N attempted to brighten the mood, stroking through the silky short-cropped hair on the nape of his neck.

“No matter what, you’re always a ray of sunshine, aren’t you, darling,” Hoseok chuckled, making Y/N sigh with relief, reaching up to pinch Hoseok’s cheek.

“No, that’s you,” Y/N tugged the flesh of his cheek back and forth, making him shake his head, his whole body shuddering with her touch. To her surprise, Hoseok removed her hand from his face, holding onto her wrist, his eyes skimming over the veins that mapped through the skin. “What’s the matter?”

Hoseok said nothing, his thumb brushing over the sensitive area, ears fluttering when Y/N’s heart stuttered in her chest. Not realizing how close they had gotten, Hoseok essentially caging her in, Y/N murmured his name considering he was basically stuck in a trance holding her wrist.

“Can I?” Hoseok’s ears turned back, eyes flicking to hers, pressing his thumb firmly into her delicate wrist. “Please. It’ll make me feel better.”

“Uh-huh,” Y/N watched Hoseok’s free hand press against the wall beside her face, crowding her against the surface, leveling her a meaningful look.

“I won’t be so rough this time,” Hoseok remarked, absently, Y/N ashamed that she was somewhat disappointed by that statement. “Hold onto me if you want…”

Y/N had no qualms doing so. She snaked her free arm around Hoseok’s trim waist, grabbing a fistful of his sweatshirt, watching him turn her wrist in his palm carefully. Her breath caught when he brought it to his lips, his eyes never breaking from hers when he laid a gentle kiss on her palm, Y/N’s stomach doing somersaults. Ears twitching, catching the intake of breath she made, the corner of his mouth curled up, littering a few more kisses along the length of her wrist. Hoseok paused when goosebumps rose on her forearm when his lips brushed against a particular stretch of skin.

With one last butterfly wing kiss, Hoseok sunk his incisors into her wrist, Y/N wincing at the razor-sharp sensation, though she was instantly soothed when Hoseok’s free hand moved to curl around her hip, squeezing comfortingly. The sting was gone as swift as it came, Hoseok’s eyes fluttering shut as his teeth pierced her flesh, and the mind-numbing euphoria that came when her hybrids scented her had Y/N’s head nodding into Hoseok’s toned chest. Humming from the back of his throat, he let her lean on him while he bit her, tongue peaking out to catch a droplet of blood leaking from the mark.

Y/N wasn’t sure whether or not she was murmuring Hoseok’s name deliriously into his chest, eyes rolling to the back of her head when she felt his teeth pull out of her skin, tongue laving over the bleeding wounds methodically. Hoseok was effectively holding her up now, his arm supporting her lower back while he cleaned up his mess, cauterizing the wound as gently as he could. In stark contrast to how aggressively he scented her many months ago, this time around, he was calm, tender, and almost loving, Y/N let herself believe.

Before her knees could buckle and she dropped to the floor, Hoseok let go of her wrist, using two hands on her hips to hoist her up, Y/N not even making a noise of surprise as he carried her to her bed and set her down gingerly.

“How’s your head? Fuzzy?” Hoseok questioned, Y/N’s eyes heavy and lidded as she admired the new mark he gave her, already bruising but entirely painless– and when she prodded at it, the site tingled strangely.

“Huh?” Y/N didn’t actually hear Hoseok, too doped up, considering postponing her shower in favor of just crawling into bed and passing out after all of that. “My what?”

“Nevermind, darling. That answers that,” Hoseok snickered, and he seemed way less jittery than he had when he first came into her bedroom, so Y/N counted that as a bonus. “Want me to have Yoongi bring your dinner in here? You look like you’re about to knock off.”

“Ooh. Will you?” Y/N perked up, the fog in her brain clearing slowly, kicking off her slippers and wiggling beneath her quilt, Hoseok’s radiant smile spreading across his face. “Thank you, Foxy.”

“You’re lucky you’re cute,” Hoseok muttered to himself, and Y/N was still too fuzzy-brained to hear it. He started towards the door, knowing that Y/N would probably be asleep when Yoongi brought dinner around, her eyes almost shut completely, but something about her angelic expression had him stopping by the door and speaking up more loudly. “Y/N.”

“Yeah, honey?” Y/N peered at him from under her eyelashes, the fox hybrid turning a bit sly.

“You owe me that trip to EPCOT, don’t forget. I’m not ‘drinking around the world’ without you, so you better come back.”

Y/N’s eyes went wide out of pure shock, Hoseok back to his wiseass self, before she dissolved into a fit of giggles.

“I’m taking that as a threat. Don’t come crying to me when we’re four drinks in and you’re all sunburnt.”

“I look forward to it, darling.”

Y/N pulled Yoongi’s hoodie over her head shortly after she, Jeongguk, and Namjoon entered the deserted Sanders’ home. The family themselves had been living in a hotel for the past few weeks as per Y/N’s advice, the current state of the building uninhabitable with all of the spirits infesting it. The worn fabric, infused with Yoongi’s vanilla-and-cloves body wash, offered her somewhat of a lifeline, the home absolutely frigid and charged with thick, uncomfortable energy. Namjoon stuck close to her like an overzealous watchdog, Y/N feeling his sharp gaze on her near constantly as the two of them helped Jeongguk set up cameras. None of them spoke apart from the occasional direction from Jeongguk on where to place a piece of equipment.

Part of the “agreement” Y/N had begrudgingly accepted was Namjoon taking over the EVP sessions and asking the spirits questions. Really, she was only there as some kind of equipment mule, which she supposed was more than she could ask for, at that point. At least Namjoon had taken her list of follow-up questions to use, while she monitored the computer as he asked them.

Burying her nose into the collar of Yoongi’s hoodie, letting his scent bathe her in comfort, she sat on one of the living room couches, in pitch-black darkness, waiting for the other two hybrids to finish setting up. The only sources of light, it being quarter past two in the morning, were the tiny lights on the cameras and the odd flash of eyeshine from one of the hybrids milling about with purpose.

“Everything’s set. This was the last static night vision camera to go up,” Jeongguk broke the silence gruffly, Y/N hearing his combat boots clomping along the hardwood just a few feet away from her. “Let’s do some EVP. I don’t want to be here longer than we have to; we already have plenty of evidence.”

Y/N flinched when she felt Namjoon collapse down beside her on the couch, the EVP device clutched in his hand, Y/N only able to make out the faintest shadow of his side profile. Clearing her throat, she booted up the digital audio workstation in preparation for recording, Jeongguk standing by the living room window where what the three of them called “The Watcher” lingered.

“Got the list? You two have your shields up, right?” Y/N mumbled to Namjoon, the room dropping a couple of degrees in temperature, as well as the wolf hybrid now staring daggers into the side of her face. Technically, she wasn’t supposed to talk, but she wasn’t about to be mute the entire time.

“Start up the recording, kiddo,” Jeongguk ignored her questions, his silhouette visible by the window– his antlers making him look like a supernatural creature, himself.

Sighing, shoving her face further into Yoongi’s hoodie, she did as she was told. The nickname Jeongguk used on her didn’t have its usual affect, considering the elk hybrid explicitly told her and Namjoon not to use their names while in the house, for whatever reason. With a quiet grunt leaving her lips, indicating they were ready to go, Y/N clung to Namjoon’s side as close as she could as he began prattling off inquiries.

“Who are you watching?” After a series of unanswered questions, Namjoon’s tone was growing frustrated, his tail occasionally batting against Y/N’s behind. Nothing was showing up on her digital audio workstation, either. Finally, however, there was a blip appearing on her computer, Y/N tensing as she actually heard the gritty response amongst the static the EVP detector was putting out.

“Family.”

“Why are you watching this family?” Namjoon brightened, shushing Jeongguk from across the room, who was tapping his foot impatiently. “How did you get here?”

“Portal. Bedroom.”

Y/N was positive she was grinding her teeth into dust. She was dreading the EVP sessions in the bedrooms, and based on The Watcher’s response, the three of them would be heading up there sooner than she thought.

Namjoon asked a few more questions, but received no further responses. Sucking his teeth, Namjoon made a motion for Y/N to stop recording, switching off the device he was holding. The room was still heavy with icky energy, but quiet once Namjoon turned off the detector, Y/N expelling the breath she was holding.

“A portal. I should have known,” Jeongguk remarked, already dismantling a night vision camera to haul upstairs. “That’s why there’s so many entities here. There’s a portal that allows them to freely come and go, and my guess is it’s in one of the bedrooms.”

“Oh! That means that I have a way–” Y/N immediately clammed up when Namjoon pinched her thigh, whimpering at the sharpness of his fingernails. However, he was right to snap her out of it– it wouldn’t have been wise to announce that she had a way to close the portal while they were in the house.

With that, she silently helped the hybrids bring equipment up to the second floor, following Jeongguk’s direction to begin in Tommy’s bedroom, all while clutching onto the burning dragon’s blood incense like it was a flaming sword. Y/N had a sneaking suspicion that the portal was located in that specific bedroom due to the suffocating sensation she had in there weeks ago, one that had her head swimming and breath coming out shallowly. It was a great effort to keep her energetic shield up while in that room, imagining an impenetrable bright golden light surrounding her, and she could feel it taking a good chunk of her lucidity.

Stiffly, she stood by the door of the room, letting the hybrids take the lead, Jeongguk muttering something in Latin– she assumed it was an expletive due to the acidic way he uttered it. Because she and Namjoon hadn’t captured any audio in that room the last time, they focused on taking video, breaking out the thermometers, and sweeping the area for electromagnetic readings. To no one’s surprise, the electromagnetic detector was going absolutely berserk in that room, specifically in the young boy’s closet. Jeongguk used his teeth to rip a piece of electrical tape to mark the area.

“I think it’s there,” he announced quietly, Namjoon taking pictures of the closet with flash, lighting up the dark room and making Y/N gnaw on her lip as she saw shadows all around her wolf hybrid. She prayed he was maintaining his shield, but she had spoken one too many times, so she couldn’t mention the shadows curling around the room threateningly. “Let’s get through the girl’s room quickly and get out of here.”

Stomach turning sour, she curled her hands into fists, trying her best not to light her clothes on fire with the burning incense she was religiously replacing as soon as one stick got too low. Namjoon was too busy to hold her hand this time, so she trailed after him closely, feeling utterly sick when they entered Julie’s dark room. Y/N swore she heard growling coming from all angles, low and menacing, but if either of her hybrids noticed, they didn’t say anything about it. Wafting the incense smoke around the space, Y/N concentrated on her shield, waiting for Jeongguk to prop up a single camera and Namjoon to begin the EVP session.

Turning, she could see outlines of her two hybrids working quickly, but what concerned her the most were the dark shadows now surrounding Jeongguk, too, not just Namjoon, and the density of the shadows were growing by the second. Perhaps Y/N didn’t spend enough time teaching them how to maintain their defenses, or they had forgotten to tend to their shields in the urgency of it all. Before she could say anything, her hackles rising and sensing danger all of a sudden, Namjoon started recording audio and switched on the EVP.

“Who are you?” Namjoon’s first question rang out loudly, firmly, with an edge of anger to it. “What are you doing here?”

The shadows thickened even more, and it was getting even harder to see either of her hybrids from where she was standing, mere feet away. It was odd that something could be darker than night, like a void, but those shadows were proof in front of her. Queasy, she took a step forward, following the sound of the static coming from the EVP. She hadn’t noticed that her stick of incense had gone out.

“Did you come from a portal within this home?” Namjoon pressed, clearly pissed he wasn’t getting any answers.

Jeongguk was scribbling in his notebook furiously, a ballpoint pen scratching against the linen pages when the knocking on the walls started up. Icy fright washed over Y/N, but she tried to keep it together by clutching the selenite in her pocket. Just a few more minutes, a few more questions, and they could leave. And when they would return, it would be in the daylight…

“Give me that shit,” Jeongguk suddenly cursed, snatching the EVP from the wolf hybrid. “Answer us. You can threaten young girls without a problem, but you’re too much of a pussy to show yourself to us?”

Y/N stifled a gasp, definitely not prepared for Jeongguk to antagonize the entity, the shadows pressing down on him immediately in response. He didn’t seem to realize that, though Namjoon certainly did, moving closer to Y/N and his eyes flashing in the darkness when the knocking on the wall turned to pounding.

“Hybrid scum.” Came through the device Jeongguk was holding, a dry chuckle leaving Jeongguk’s lips.

“Real original. I’ve had old ladies at convenience stores call me worse,” Jeongguk taunted, Y/N dropping her stick of stubbed-out incense in shock. “Give me something to work with. Prove you’re here.”

The pounding on the walls cut off suddenly. All Y/N could hear besides radio static was the blood rushing in her ears. Shadows still curling around her two hybrids, Y/N really thought something was beginning to go wrong, especially with everything going quiet. Desperate to do anything of use, she squeezed her eyes shut, and with great effort, extended her mental energetic shield around not only herself, but her two hybrids as well. Picturing them in her mind, she felt something warm coasting down her face, ignoring it entirely while she focused on cloaking them all with protection.

“Judas,” Jeongguk barked, the camera he had set on the tripod knocked off its perch and launching clear across the room, smacking to the floor when the pounding on the walls started up again. Namjoon fumbled with a flashlight to illuminate the room.

“Elk–” Namjoon sounded panicked, though distant, as Y/N was in a meditative trance focusing on the shield.

“Shut up,” Jeongguk hissed, continuing with his questions. “Who the fuck are you? Tell us your name.”

Y/N had expended too much energy. It was too much; between attempting to shield three people at once, what felt like spiders crawling up her legs, and all of the noise around her– her eyes snapped open and the shield was broken. At that same moment, two things happened.

“Fuck!” Jeongguk shouted, pained, hunching over and dropping the EVP device. As the elk hybrid cried out, Y/N’s knees failed her, and she collapsed to the ground in a heap, shakily and blindly trying to reach out for Jeongguk. “Get her out of here. Now.”

Y/N had tears gushing from her waterline, screaming when Namjoon sprung into action, scooping her up around the middle and hauling her over his shoulder.

“Nooo! Jeongguk!” Y/N wailed, smacking Namjoon’s back desperately as he thundered down the stairs, through the living room, and outside into the night. “Namjoon put me DOWN! We can’t leave him!”

Namjoon didn’t say a word, taking her beating as she struck and pummeled his back, the wolf hybrid hastily yanking open the door to his van and carrying her inside. Fully sobbing by now, the strength she used to try and get herself out of Namjoon’s arms completely zapped, Namjoon quickly started the van to both heat and light it up. Crying brokenly, she went limp, the wolf hybrid moving to the booth in the back of the vehicle, manipulating her limbs so she sat securely on his lap, a forearm braced across her stomach to keep her in place.

“J-Joon… Jeongguk’s hurt, why did we leave him?” Y/N whimpered, weakly trying to pry his arm off of her midsection. She might as well have been trying to pry off a metal bar on a roller coaster that was across her lap.

“He’s just getting the equipment. He’ll be out in a minute,” Namjoon murmured in her ear, his free hand searching for something on the booth’s table.

“But–”

“Hush,” Namjoon interrupted, using his thumb on her chin to tilt her head back, his eyebrows scrunched up in concern, something feathery and soft clutched in the remainder of his long fingers. “Your nose is bleeding.”

Hand trembling, Y/N touched her lips, her fingertips coming away wet and soaked with blood. Namjoon’s ears were flat when he began dabbing away at her face with the tissue, mopping up the blood first and having Y/N hold the tissue to her nose. Tears still streaming down her face, Namjoon’s chest rumbled, reaching across the table for another tissue before he began blotting those away as well.

“You shouldn’t have extended your shield to us like that. You’re going to need a few days to recover,” Namjoon commented when Y/N’s sobs slightly mellowed into pathetic blubbering. She was going to reply when a loud scrape against the van door had her shrieking.

“Just me, kiddo,” Jeongguk hauled himself into the van, his camera and the equipment bag in one hand, his complexion pale and sweaty as he dumped everything on the ground. “Camera’s fuckin’ toast. Demon prick.”

Turning into a puddle of relief against Namjoon’s chest, her eyes were watering again, thanking the moon and the stars that he made it back to the van. Somehow, the sight of the elk hybrid gave her a spark of revival, patting the back of Namjoon’s hand so he’d let her up. He did so, reluctantly, one hand on her waist as she stood.

“Are you okay?” Y/N’s voice was scratchy and raw due to the screaming and crying, but Jeongguk simply nodded and looked behind her, right at Namjoon.

“Step on it, wolf. We need to leave, now,” Jeongguk ordered, Namjoon growling at the command but making his way to the driver’s seat anyways, releasing Y/N’s waist in the process. “Call Seokjin, Y/N.”

“W-what?”

“The investigation is over. He told me he expects a call, so call him,” Jeongguk collapsed into the booth, wincing when his back hit the seat.

It dawned on her, turning her head to the kitchenette, where she left both her phone and Seokjin’s stuffed alpaca on the countertop to remind her whenever they finished. Grasping for both items, she sunk into the booth across from Jeongguk before Namjoon threw the van in drive and sped off down the street. Clutching the plushie to her chest, Seokjin picked up on the first ring.

“Pretty girl? Is it over? What happened?” Seokjin blurted in quick succession.

“On our way home,” Y/N sniffed, hugging the stuffed alpaca even closer to her chest, Seokjin releasing a shuddering exhale through the receiver.

“Were you crying? Love, are you hurt?” Seokjin continued, Y/N picturing his worried expression.

“No, I’m not hurt. Just shaken up, is all. But… We’ll be home in half an hour, so I’ll see you then and tell you all about it, honey?”

There was a beat of silence on the other end of the call, Y/N feeling bad that she wasn’t exactly Chatty Cathy, but Seokjin had always been understanding.

“I’ll be waiting. I’ll make some tea, okay? I love you,” Seokjin’s smooth voice soothed her, wrapped her in warmth, and sooner than she thought she could, she smiled.

“Thank you, I love you too, honey. And thank you for loaning me your plushie.”

She hung up from Seokjin, shooting a quick text to all of the others to give them her ETA, her fingers pausing over the keyboard when Jeongguk made an audible wince, shifting in his seat.

“Sweets, are you…?”

“Y/N, get the camera, the one that has the flash,” Jeongguk was still pale, wiping sweat from his brow despite how cold it still was outside.

Eyebrow raised, she obeyed, fishing around for it in the hastily-packed equipment bag. When she turned, she squeaked; Jeongguk was in the middle of stripping his black turtleneck off, crumpling it into a ball once he untangled it from his antlers and holding it to cover his chest. Y/N stood there, stunned, both of his sleeves on display, his toned abs caved in as he slouched, biting down harshly on his lip ring.

“There’s something on my back, take a picture of it,” Jeongguk, rigidly, turned in the booth, revealing the expanse of his bare back to Y/N frozen there like a garden gnome. “Evidence.”

Y/N, this time, could not stifle her gasp. It was the first time she saw the great black-and-white tattoo covering most of his back, but horrifyingly, the excitement of that was squashed by the three long, bleeding scratches across the flesh. The scratches appeared like they were made by an animal with talons, starting at one of his shoulders and ending at his opposite hip, red and inflamed, marring the elegant lines of the tattoo. Y/N couldn’t even process what the tattoo depicted, her heart in her throat when she saw the scratches.

“Holy fuck, Jeongguk,” Y/N exclaimed, rooted to her spot behind him with the camera in one of her hands, forgotten.

“What? What’s wrong?” Namjoon called from the driver’s seat, trying to see what was going on by peering into the rearview mirror.

“Jeongguk got scratched,” Y/N reported, her cadence wobbly from trying to swallow down more tears.

“Take the picture, Y/N,” Jeongguk spoke through his teeth, bracing his forearms on the booth’s table.

“Jeongguk, watch your goddamn tone,” Namjoon warned, speeding onto the highway in the direction of their home. “Stop ordering her around like a spoiled prince.”

For once, Jeongguk didn’t have a snide remark, a bead of sweat rolling down his spine and mingling with the blood, the sting of it making him hiss and groan. Frantically, Y/N snapped several pictures from different angles, her heart clenching as she watched blood ooze from one of the deeper gashes.

“Good? You got them?”

“Uh-huh,” Y/N said gravely, setting down the camera and reaching for her overnight bag. “Now it’s my turn to call the shots, you two. Jeongguk, you’re gonna sit still and let me bandage you, and Joon, you’re gonna slow down at least 15 miles per hour.”

She could have bet a fair sum that Namjoon chuckled from the front seat, but he heeded her request, lightly pressing the breaks and merging into the slowest lane on the highway. Jeongguk was still slouched, though uncharacteristically free of protests when Y/N sat directly behind him, setting her first-aid kit on the table with a solemn thunk.

“You know, I hoped I wouldn’t have to use this…” Y/N sighed, opening up the kit and rummaging through it for some alcohol wipes. Due to how long the three scratches were, she’d probably need all of the wipes she had in the plastic box. “Jeongguk, we promised Julie we wouldn’t instigate the spirits. Why did you do that?”

“We weren’t going to get anywhere unless I did,” Jeongguk grunted while Y/N used her teeth to tear a wipe packet open, swiping it along his left shoulder where the scratches began.

“I… hmm. How do I put this,” Y/N methodically cleaned up Jeongguk’s wounds, starting to make out the image his tattoo depicted– some kind of winged, cloaked figure. “I know you have lots of experience, Jeongguk. But I think, had I known that was where your thought process was leading, things could have gone a lot better. The element of surprise when it comes to these investigations, between teammates, is so, so, stupid and reckless.”

From the front seat, Namjoon hummed loudly in agreement. Jeongguk simply kept his mouth shut, Y/N not knowing whether or not he was giving her the silent treatment, jolting in his seat when she passed an alcohol wipe over a particularly deep scratch.

“So next time, if you want to go Zak Bagans on the spirits, just run it by me first. Alright?”

Jeongguk grumbled in offense, Y/N too tired to scold him any further. Happy with how she cleaned the scratches, she tossed the last slightly-bloodied alcohol wipe on the table, pulling soothing and antibacterial ointment out of her kit. The cab of the van was quiet except for the folk tape Namjoon switched on, which was turned down low for ambience. Y/N had a suspicion he put it on for some comfort.

She had never been able to touch so much of Jeongguk’s skin. Of course, he ran hot like all of the other hybrids, Y/N’s fingertips gingerly applying ointment to his scratches. Trying to be gentle, she cooed when Jeongguk flinched again as her fingers passed over his mid-back. As she worked, she admired not only the tattoo covering his back, but the ones wrapping around his triceps and elbows. Attempting to distract him from the pain, Y/N dared to ask him a question.

“Sweets? What’s this tattoo on your back? Is it a fallen angel or something?”

“Saw it on the wall in the shop and liked it. I don’t know, it’s some kind of winged grim reaper,” Jeongguk’s shoulders shrugged indifferently, Y/N taking a moment to sit back and really get a good look at it.

Indeed, the figure resembled a skeleton, cloaked in black, holding a scythe. Its large wings extended over Jeongguk’s shoulder blades, the tips of the wings nearly meeting at the nape of his neck, where Y/N had seen the tattoo peeking out from the backs of his shirts on one or two occasions. The tattoo was expertly done, the linework precise and bold, Y/N running a finger over one of the wings, Jeongguk’s muscles tensing.

“How did you afford all of those tattoos and holes in your face and ears while on the run?” Namjoon asked, in a way that told Y/N that he had been holding onto that question for quite some time.

“I exorcized a tattoo shop in L.A. before I got out of that cesspool,” Jeongguk explained, Y/N resuming her task by cutting strips of gauze for his bandages. “It was like one of my first ‘gigs’ or whatever. Anyways, the owner was so grateful, she pretty much gave me unlimited tattoos and piercings free of charge. And with the prices of these fucking things–” Jeongguk gestured to some of the ink on his biceps, “I took advantage of that free ticket.”

“That’s a cool story,” Y/N remarked, realizing she didn’t have a lot of information on Jeongguk’s past, other than how he came to Gerry’s shelter all those months ago. “This one on your back is beautiful. She did such a nice job.”

“Thanks,” Jeongguk began rubbing at his bicep, Y/N surprised he thanked her at all as she began taping gauze to his back.

“What’s this one?” Y/N poked his deltoid, unable to make it out, letting her eyes roam all over his arms indulgently. It was the first time she had an excuse to gawk at them.

“That’s the moon, kiddo. What are you blind?” Jeongguk turned his face slightly, staring down at the tattoo on his shoulder, Y/N glancing at his side profile; the sharpness of his nose, the labret threaded through his eyebrow, the angle of his jaw.

“How many do you think you have? Oh, it must be hard to count, considering they’re sleeves. Do you have any on your legs? What was your most painful piercing?” Y/N rapid-fired, both unable to help herself and loving that the conversation was distracting her from the fact that her elk hybrid had gotten hurt under her watch.

“Whoa, slow down. What is this, twenty questions?”

“You could at least do me the courtesy of answering one,” Y/N muttered resentfully, smoothing the last pieces of tape in place.

“I’m not going to tell you which piercing was the most painful, it depends on the person,” Jeongguk replied, an odd tone taking over his voice– awkwardness? “So fine. No tattoos on my legs. Happy?”

“Satisfied,” Y/N confirmed, smirking. “Alright, you’re patched up. You should probably skip the salt bath until they’re more healed. I’ll just waft some palo santo over you or something when we get home.”

Jeongguk shifted, sitting correctly in the booth now, this time not grimacing when his back hit the fabric of the booth. Y/N’s eyes went to his black turtleneck, forgotten beside him, and before she could stop herself, her greedy gaze was on his chest– and she was not prepared for what she saw.

Besides the fact that Jeongguk was well-muscled, almost like a dancer, his chest was free of any ink, but there was something that had her mouth dropping open when her eyes trailed upwards. Jeongguk had his nipples pierced, silver barbells threaded through them, which had Y/N positively reeling. She supposed she shouldn’t have been so surprised, he had countless piercings in his ears and the two in his face, but the sight of the nipple piercings had her mouth watering and heat flooding her cheeks.

“What?” Jeongguk lifted his eyebrow, noticing her gaping fish mouth.

“Nothing! I’m gonna go sit up front!” Y/N blurted, stuffing the first-aid kit into her overnight bag and scrambling to the front of the vehicle, scooping up Seokjin’s plushie as she went.

Jeongguk snorted as she hobbled away, struggling back into his turtleneck– even though Y/N ordered special ones that had stretchy necks to cater to hybrids with antlers, it was still a sort of gymnastics routine for him.

“How are you doing?” Namjoon inquired once she buckled in beside him, never taking his eyes off the road.

“I’m better, but exhausted. Sorry for going postal on you. Is your back bruised?”

“Please,” Namjoon scoffed, sucking his teeth. “It was like someone throwing pebbles at me.”

“Way to stroke my ego, Joon Bug,” Y/N grouched, sinking into the oversized fabric of Yoongi’s sweatshirt with an exaggerated offended expression.

“We’re almost back,” Namjoon commented, sneaking a glance at her out of the corner of his eye. “You definitely need at least 10 hours of sleep. Doing what you did with the shield–”

“Was idiotic?” Jeongguk offered from the back of the van, Y/N giving him the finger over the back of her headrest.

“No, jackass. Unwise, I would say,” Namjoon bared his teeth at Jeongguk through the rearview mirror.

“I saw shadows around you two. I didn’t know whether or not you guys were maintaining your own shields, that’s why I did it. I only wanted to protect you,” Y/N defended her actions, pouting and cradling the alpaca plushie in her arms.

With that, the two hybrids stopped chiding her, the weight of her words having the both of them regretting saying anything at all. Namjoon cleared his throat, turning the volume up on his tape, Y/N giggling when she heard Jeongguk complain noisily.

“I get scratched by a fuckin’ demon, now I have to listen to some asshole play the spoons on a tape from 1955,” he groaned, Namjoon shaking his head while he pulled off of the highway, into their town. “I need a cigarette.”

“Are you bleeding? I can smell your blood,” Seokjin tackled her as soon as she stepped a singular toe into the foyer, a note of panic in his tone as he gathered her in his arms, frantically tracking his eyes all over her body for any sign of injury.

“I had a nosebleed on the way home. I’m okay, honey,” Y/N sunk into Seokjin’s embrace, winding her arms around his neck. She was wilting with exhaustion, at that point, but she knew she’d have to make the rounds to assure everyone she was unharmed. “I missed you bunches.”

Seokjin didn’t respond with words, instead his chest vibrated with elated purrs that she was home, in his arms, safe and sound. Placing a gentle kiss between her eyebrows, Seokjin released her so she could greet everyone else lingering in the foyer, though he remained by her side. Y/N knew it would take a crowbar forged from diamonds to get the jaguar hybrid to remove himself from her proximity, at that point.

Jeongguk shouldered by her with the equipment bag, bidding her a goodnight, immediately blasting up the stairs to his room. Y/N’s gaze followed him, and in consequence she caught sight of Taehyung, who was sitting on the landing with his palms on his knees. Blinking at her, she offered him a wave, one he returned timidly.

“Catch any ghosts?” Hoseok was leaning against the door to the basement, dark circles under his eyes from staying up so late. It was well past four in the morning, Y/N a little sheepish knowing everyone stayed awake waiting for her return.

“Caught more than ghosts,” Namjoon muttered from behind Y/N, rifling through her overnight bag to look for the bundles of rosemary to burn.

“Yeah, not my department,” Hoseok shook his head, Y/N weakly snorting at the joke. “Welcome home, darling. I’m gonna hit the hay, I can barely see you standing there.”

Jimin returned from behind the stairs where he was hanging up Y/N’s coat in the closet, relief all over his face, seeing her very much intact and in front of him. All who was missing was Yoongi, who Y/N suspected was in the kitchen. Jimin bade her goodnight, as did Namjoon, who reminded her to cleanse herself with the rosemary before going to bed, and under her nose, Taehyung slipped away silently into his bedroom upstairs.

“Let’s get you some tea,” Seokjin grabbed her hand and herded her to the kitchen, Y/N wobbly on her feet as she clutched Seokjin’s plushie under her free arm. “Then you’re going to bed.”

“Yes, sir,” Y/N chuckled tiredly, squeezing his palm as they entered the lowly-lit kitchen, Y/N finding her suspicion to be correct– Yoongi was by the stove, using a pot holder to take the kettle off of the flame. “I’m back…”

Yoongi turned, sparkles in his eyes as he took her in, a look of significance blossoming over his face. That time, she did come back to him.

“You look like you got sucker punched,” Yoongi said, contrary to the meaningful telepathic interaction the two of them had. “Was it bad?”

“It was pretty bad,” Y/N admitted, Seokjin humming sadly and sliding his hand down her back. “Jeongguk got scratched.”

“No shit,” Yoongi’s eyebrows shot up into his hairline, pouring her a cup of chamomile tea. “But you weren’t harmed, right?”

“Nope, I just gave myself a nosebleed. Exerted too much energy,” Y/N replied, accepting the steamy mug of tea. Perhaps she should have found it odd, standing in the kitchen between two hybrids she was romantically involved with, but she found it natural instead. “I think I know how to get rid of the infestation now, though. That second investigation was necessary.”

She didn’t expect Seokjin or Yoongi to reply, as the two of them weren’t really into the paranormal, so she sipped her tea with a hum, watching Yoongi wash the kettle.

“Well, make a plan of attack later. You need to sleep,” Yoongi pointed out, his own face puffy with exhaustion. Seokjin agreed with him, already trying to drag her to her bedroom, Yoongi following close behind with some water and a packet of ibuprofen.

In her room, Seokjin started turning her bed down for her while Yoongi placed the water on her nightstand, Y/N shrugging and deciding to change into pajamas. Too drained to give a shit, she stripped down to her bra and panties, fishing around in her dresser for a suitable giant tee shirt to sleep in. A sharp gasp filled the room, Y/N lifting a brow and looking over her shoulder. Both of them were gawking at her state of undress, Seokjin with his hand clasped over his mouth– probably the one that gasped, and Yoongi was frozen solid by her bed, staring at her ass. Perv.

“What? Nothing you two haven’t seen,” Y/N muttered, cheeks ablaze when she shoved a shirt over her head, the material skimming the tops of her thighs.

Seokjin’s neck was red, averting his eyes from her scantily clothed figure in favor of straightening out her quilt. Yoongi’s ears fluttered playfully, tongue peeking out to moisten his lips, Y/N shaking her head at him.

“Gonna brush my teeth. Want to chat for a little bit before I go to sleep?” Y/N changed the subject, addressing both of the hybrids, a small amount of shaky hope in her voice. She didn’t really want to be left alone yet, truthfully. Seokjin picked up on the unsaid, nodding, and Yoongi simply collapsed heavily on her vanity chair.

After her teeth were brushed, she climbed into bed, Seokjin more than used to climbing in beside her, happily chattering away about his evening without her. Apparently, he and Yoongi made a new recipe for dinner, they watched a French movie Hoseok picked out, and polished off all of the ice cream. Yoongi remained seated at her vanity, occasionally joining the conversation, but Y/N could tell he was ready to pass out. She was just as ready, suddenly, Seokjin’s voice luring her into sleep, nuzzling her cheek into his shoulder.

“Alright, I need to sleep, sweetheart. I’ll see you in the morning, or afternoon, whenever you wake up,” Yoongi stood, running a hand through his mussed hair. Y/N’s eyes snapped open, still tucked into Seokjin’s side, frowning deeply.

“Just stay here,” Y/N whined, Yoongi pausing in the doorway, looking from her to Seokjin. “There’s room on my other side. Don’t leave me.”

Yoongi appeared conflicted, weighing his options, but Y/N’s pathetic pout is what won him over. Sighing, he rounded the bed, Seokjin helpfully scooching over, and after a few seconds, Y/N was happily sandwiched between her two feline hybrids.

“Hope you don’t talk in your sleep,” Seokjin possessively wound an arm around Y/N’s middle while addressing Yoongi, turning on his side and pressing his chest to her back. “Like she does.”

“What?! I talk in my sleep?” Y/N squawked, scowling at Yoongi’s face scrunched up in laughter.

“You do,” Yoongi admitted, brushing hair out of her face, his tail winding around one of her legs. She was surrounded on all sides, hiding her face in Yoongi’s neck out of embarrassment– and all she could think about was how much better Yoongi’s scent was straight from the source, rather than on the fabric of a hoodie. “Last time I heard you talk in your sleep, you were saying something about wanting a piña colada.”

“Actually, you know what? You two can leave now,” Y/N grumbled into Yoongi’s skin, both of them snickering. Seokjin simply tightened his hold on her, planting a kiss on her nape, Yoongi tracing patterns over her arm as she clutched the front of his shirt. “Goodnight.”

Y/N closed her eyes, Yoongi’s and Seokjin’s purrs mingling together and comforting her immensely. Warm, protected, and safe, she drifted off to sleep at lightning speed, her two lovers holding her close.

“Do you wanna finish learning ‘Bella’s Lullaby’ or not?” Yoongi threatened, his toes curling as Y/N peppered the side of his face with tiny kisses. She was feeling particularly clingy that Friday, after all, she had spent several days after the investigation mostly laying on the couch like a limp tube sock, eating TV dinners and watching trash reality.

“No, I wanna eat you whole,” Y/N teased, lightly nipping the apple of his cheek, Yoongi rolling his eyes and removing the arm he had around her. “Ugh. Can you teach me something else? Something you composed, I wanna learn something written by the great Mr. Min.”

“Aren’t I Mr. Y/L/N now? As of August of last year?” Yoongi shot back dryly, Y/N staring at him like he grew a second head. “You didn’t know that? We all have your last name now. They’re printed on our IDs and credit cards for Christ’s sake, silly girl!”

“I never noticed,” Y/N squeaked, fanning herself. For some reason, finding that out had her heart growing three sizes. “Don’t change the subject, angel. Teach me something of yours, please?”

She drew out the syllables of please, knowing that Yoongi had a weakness for her brand of begging. It had the effect she wanted, rosiness coloring his cheeks, rolling his wrists in preparation to play.

“Well, you already know how to play your song,” Yoongi mumbled, flipping through his book of sheet music contemplatively. He stilled when he got to a particular page, Y/N skimming over the hand-written score with a lip tucked in between her teeth. “This one…”

“One of yours, right?” Y/N confirmed, squinting at the sheet music, noticing tiny lyrics written on the measures in tight, unreadable cursive.

“One of my firsts,” Yoongi replied. Sighing, he began to play a few bars, the melody simple but slow and jazzy, very different from the song he composed for Y/N. “I think you’ll be able to play it.”

“I love it. Teach me,” Y/N bouncing on the bench beside him, enthused. Yoongi glanced at her side profile, something unreadable in his eyes, though he indulged her anyways and helped her through the first few verses.

“I wish I could read the lyrics, did you write those too?”

“No, baby,” Yoongi cleared his throat, twitching uncomfortably. Frowning, Y/N nudged him with her shoulder. “My mom did.”

“Oh,” Y/N stopped fiddling with the piano keys, recalling Yoongi’s profile from the hybrid database– Yoongi was born naturally, unlike most hybrids who were created from labs, and Y/N remembered that on the profile, it mentioned that his mother had passed away. “She’s musical like you?”

“She was,” Yoongi’s mouth flattened into a line, a pit forming in Y/N’s stomach. “She was a singer. We used to perform together at The Black Lodge before she died.”

“I’m sorry, Yoongi…” Y/N whispered, covering the back of his hand with hers. “You wrote this with her?”

“Yeah, it’s called ‘Moonlight Lovers’. She would only want to perform it on nights with a full moon,” Yoongi half-smiled, his eyes going far away as he relived the memory. “I haven’t played it in years…”

“When… When did she pass away?” Y/N asked gently, tangling one of her hands with his, wanting to know a little bit more about the hybrid she loved, his history before she came to know him.

“A little bit over three years ago. She was in a bad car accident,” Yoongi screwed up his mouth, thumb brushing over the back of Y/N’s hand. “Drunk driver hit her while she was in a cab. The cab driver didn’t make it either– the entire cab burst into flames because the drunk slammed into the engine just so.”

“Oh my god,” blood was draining from Y/N’s face, horrified, watching Yoongi bitterly grimace with his ears drooping. “What about the drunk driver?”

“Also dead at the scene. Thankfully, or I would have fucking killed him myself,” Yoongi wrapped an arm around Y/N’s lower waist, kissing her temple when he could scent heavy sadness coming from her. “Don’t be sad. My mom… she lived a full life, but wild. She knew, and deep down so did I, that it would end in smoke and flames.”

“What do you mean, angel?” Y/N frowned, unsure what he meant by that, Yoongi using his free hand to play an absent melody on the piano.

“Well, she had a taste for scum-of-the-earth men that would come into the bar. She’d leave for days on end, and I wouldn’t see her until she had to sing on the weekends. More often than not, she’d come back drunk and high on some sort of pharmaceutical cocktail,” Yoongi continued to play the melody as he spoke, holding Y/N close and soaking in her warmth. “Don’t get me wrong. She was a great mom, I adored her. But her priorities were always messed up… I mean, I have no idea who my father was, and I don’t think she did, either. The only time she really seemed grounded was when we’d perform the songs we composed together.”

It was a lot for Y/N to process at once. Yoongi simply hummed, tracing circles with his thumb on Y/N’s waist under her shirt, letting all of that information sink in for her. Yoongi wasn’t fond of sharing personal details of his past or himself in general. But sharing it with the woman he loved turned out to not be so bad, and if anything, a great weight was lifted off his chest. The hollow misery that would fill him whenever he thought of his mother turned into bittersweet nostalgia.

“She raised you, so she must have been an amazing person.”

Y/N’s simple response stunned Yoongi completely. Out of all of the things she could have chosen to say, it was something that not only praised his mother, but complimented Yoongi’s very character. Purring, he was entirely out of a reply, watching Y/N in a daze work her way through the first measure of ‘Moonlight Lovers’, his heart racing.

“Yeah, she was,” Yoongi mumbled, pulling her closer to his side. “You play it well. When I was a kid, I begged my mom to play this song for me on my birthday.”

“And would she?”

“Mm-hmm. Every year.”

“Even if there wasn’t a full moon on your birthday?”

“Even then.”

Y/N paused her playing, expression becoming thoughtful as she scanned Yoongi’s face. He smiled at her tenderly, leaning into her touch when she tucked some inky hair behind his ear.

“Your birthday is in a couple of weeks,” Y/N pointed out, cupping the side of his face with care. “I think I’ll have to practice this piece extra hard so I can play it for you then.”

Stunned again, Yoongi’s hazel eyes glittered, turning his head slightly to brush his lips against Y/N’s palm.

“Okay, then you better get started, sweetheart,” Yoongi tapped the sheet music, even though he wanted to melt into a puddle. Y/N saluted him, launching into the piece straight away with a concentrated pout to her lips.

Y/N tried, as hard as she could, not to let the tempo falter when Yoongi began to sing, softly and quietly as she played. His deep, raspy voice was surprisingly melodic and velvety at the same time, and Y/N pictured the day of his birthday coming up. The two of them ‘performing’ that piece, with him singing and her accompanying him– the first time he would get to hear the song on his birthday in three years. Y/N couldn’t really think of a better gift for Yoongi. Leaning into his shoulder, Yoongi launched into the chorus.

“And we met under the moonlit sky…”

Saturday morning, dreary and rainy, had Y/N leisurely stirring cream into her second cup of coffee while her and the hybrids clumped around the TV in the parlor to catch a bit of morning news. Y/N tried her best to keep herself updated, but usually could only stomach about fifteen minutes of the news before one of the hybrids changed the station to something else. Hoseok, at her feet in front of the couch, was letting her absently twist and braid his wavy auburn hair while he snacked on a breakfast sausage.

Not having any plans for the day, Y/N resolved to do a whole lot of nothing by having an indulgent bath with oils and ordering her favorite Thai food for dinner. She knew that Sunday she’d be cornered by Jeongguk and Namjoon, when they’d try to figure out how to best close the portal in the Sanders’ house. But mercifully, the two of them allowed her a lazy Saturday before diving back into the unknown.

“Oh great. More shitty weather next week,” Hoseok complained, because even though it was the very beginning of March, winter in Massachusetts was bitterer than ever. “This is the longest winter of my life.”

“Alright, alright. You’ll be upset about the pollen count soon enough. You can change it now,” Y/N felt around her vicinity for the remote, her hand brushing up against Taehyung’s jean-clad thigh beside her.

Y/N was surprised that the Kodiak hybrid even sat next to her, he had been so absent lately that she had to constantly check he was even home. Granted, many times he wasn’t– he had been taking one of the cars out quite often to apparently snap pictures of the Boston Common or pick up more film, but Y/N felt the distance between them the most when he had his eyes glued to the screen of his phone.

“Seen the remote, Tae?” Y/N asked, Jimin coming up empty on her other side, Taehyung evidently not hearing her as he scratched one of his rounded, fuzzy brown ears. “Taehyung.”

Repeating his name more loudly, Taehyung’s thumbs flying over his phone screen stilled abruptly, snapping his head towards her with alarm all over his face. Y/N lifted a brow, thinking there was no way that it was a phone game capturing his attention so thoroughly, Y/N had acid roiling in her gut.

“What–?”

Taehyung, however, was interrupted by the loud ringing and bright flashes from the TV, indicating important breaking news, which had Seokjin flinching in the leather recliner and Y/N swearing colorfully.

“Good morning, America. Breaking news from Congress after lengthy discussions over the past several weeks. The rumors are confirmed; a major law surrounding the hybrid species has been passed. As of today, March 4th, 2023, legally adopted hybrids may be permitted to seek legal part-time employment and various establishments. This newly-passed law indeed includes another hot-button issue: many state universities will now begin the early stages of developing academic courses for adopted hybrids. Please bear with us as we continue to collect information from Congress, and stay tuned for an in-depth debriefing from The White House later this evening.”

“Huh?!” Hoseok shot up from Y/N’s feet like a rocket, shouting and pointing at the woman reporting the news on their flatscreen. “What the fuck?!”

“Oh my god,” Y/N slapped a hand over her mouth, unable to believe her mother was right about the rumors floating around.

“Wait, we can get jobs now? Legally?” Jeongguk’s voice was behind Y/N, hiking the volume up on the TV– apparently, he was the one who was hoarding it the entire time.

Namjoon, who was shuffling his deck of Tarot cards on the table where he and Y/N usually played chess in front of the fireplace, was still as could be. The day Y/N adopted Namjoon in August, he had lamented the fact that he could never have legal employment, so the news came out of left field for him.

“Did she say universities are going to take hybrid students now, too?” Jimin piped up, that look of conflicting emotions he often had written all over his handsome face.

“The lady said universities are coming up with programs for hybrids, coyote. Do you need to clean out your ears?” Jeongguk crossed his arms, standing beside the couch and staring at the television. “Does this mean you want us filling out applications for McDonald’s, Y/N?”

Y/N extended her leg, colliding her foot against his ass to shove Jeongguk away from her line of vision with great annoyance. She groaned when the elk hybrid didn’t budge an inch.

“No, you can do whatever you want. They just announced this, so we don’t have all the details yet. But, if one of you wants to apply for some kind of part-time work or take a university course, it’s entirely up to you,” Y/N replied when she felt several of them waiting for her to agree with Jeongguk. “Unless you actually want to work at McDonald’s, Jeongguk, then be my guest. Just make sure you bring me some nuggets home when you clock out.”

Jimin was snickering beside her, while Taehyung was gawking at the TV, his phone forgotten in his lap for the first time in a couple of weeks. Hoseok was amped, his tail wagging as he made laps around the room, Y/N able to see the gears turning in his head. Yoongi, who wasn’t in the room when the announcement came on the screen, appeared from the kitchen, shooting Y/N a very specific look– one that read ‘I’m not leaving this house more than I already have to’.

“Jinnie, maybe you could get a job at a restaurant! You’d make a good host with that pretty, pretty face,” Hoseok teased on his fourth lap of the room, poking the jaguar hybrid in the shoulder. However, Seokjin didn’t seem interested, much like Yoongi, rolling his eyes into the back of his head.

Y/N was about to persuade Hoseok to sit back down before she got dizzy watching him pace before her phone chimed, Y/N figuring it was her mother gloating that she was right all along.

Judy: I’m assuming you heard the news? Tell Namjoon and Jeongguk they are now officially employed by me, that is, if they’re up for it 💫

Blinking at the message, she tucked it away for later, considering the room was full of overlapping conversations and excitement. It was good to know that Namjoon and Jeongguk would get paid for their hard working efforts after all, and considering Jeongguk got scratched on the job, a paycheck was the least he was due.

With that, Y/N spent much of the day clinging to the news station with the hybrids, contrary to her usual 15 minute limit. Between that, peering over Jimin’s shoulder to read the articles about hybrid academic courses he really seemed to be interested in, and finally managing to get Hoseok to sit and calm down, Y/N was dreaming of her end-of-day hot bath every time she shut her eyes to blink.

“Of course I heard the news, Al,” Y/N had her best friend on speaker, pouring various scented oils into her bathtub before running the tap. “Hoseok already has an offer from the rec center, they want him to coach the junior track team. They contacted Yoongi, too, but I don’t think he’ll take them up on it.”

“Oh my god. They’re gonna be coaching hybrid kids? That’s so adorable,” Alice squealed, Y/N agreeing with her.

“I think Taehyung got a call, too. Not overseeing the children’s classes, but to stay behind after his meetings and help develop pictures and organize. At least, that’s what I could squeeze from him before he went out with Yoongi and Hoseok to get more information at the rec center.”

“Still being weird?” Alice’s voice turned sympathetic, up-to-date on Taehyung’s strange behavior ever since they all went to the club for Hoseok’s birthday.

“Yeah. I don’t know what’s going on with him. After Namjoon, Jeongguk and I wrap up the Sanders’ case, I’m going to try and corner him for another chat. Even though the two of us royally suck at communication. I just wanna clear the air if he’s still annoyed with me or whatever.”

“Or find out what’s keeping him so occupied on his phone,” Alice pointed out, making Y/N grunt.

“I guess I’ll find out soon enough. I’m not gonna pry into his business, but I want to know why he’s been so here-but-not-there.”

“So, where are your other boys?” Alice changed the subject, not wanting to upset her friend after such a long, crazy day.

“Oh, uh… Jimin went with the other three. He seems to be more interested in the academia aspect of the newly passed law. The rec center has a bunch of pamphlets on what the universities are beginning to plan for hybrid students. Namjoon and Jeongguk went out, too. They need to replace a camera that broke during our second investigation.”

“And your newest beau?” Alice referred to Seokjin, since Y/N had told her about the shift in their relationship shortly after Valentine’s Day.

“Making me dinner,” Y/N giggled– Seokjin had been elated that everyone else had cleared out of the house, claiming that they could have their ‘second date’. “I was gonna order Thai, but he wanted to try and make it himself.”

“God, is he romantic,” Alice swooned, happy for her best friend. “Oh my god. I forgot to mention. I have a date tonight, too!”

“What?! Al, you didn’t say you were talking to anyone! Spill!”

“Well, I wouldn’t say I was talking to him. Remember me telling you about Jeremy, the guy who works at the newspaper with me? He asked me out last week. I almost died.”

Y/N cheered, considering Alice had finally scored a date with her longtime workplace crush, a young man with a preference for funky sweater vests and the tendency to show Alice videos of his cat at home. He was literally perfect for Alice.

“Of course I remember him! Oh my god, imagine you two fall in love? Heathcliff will have a new sibling!” Y/N thought of Alice’s grouchy Maine Coon, snorting at the thought of having another cat in his household.

“No, I know. I’m so excited. I have to start getting ready, though, he’s picking me up at 7 and we’re going to dinner and a used bookstore.”

“So he’s your soulmate,” Y/N gushed, ecstatic. Alice hadn’t been in a relationship in years, so it was nice for her to seem so interested in pursuing one with Jeremy. “Call me tomorrow and tell me all about it, please.”

“Only if you tell me about your stay-at-home date with Seokjin,” Alice replied, and with that, Y/N tossed her phone onto her bed with a grin.

Seokjin told her to take her time with her bath while he made dinner, so she did. Going all out, she lit candles, had Sade playing from the portable speaker, and relaxed in the silky hot water until it became lukewarm. Muscles loose and pliable, she sighed in bliss as she massaged lotion into her skin. Sniffing the air, the scent of lemongrass and savory sauce filling the room made her stomach growl. Y/N simply pulled on comfortable undergarments, tied the sash of her robe tightly around her waist, and slid on her slippers before she was shuffling out into the hall.

Both following her nose and her ears, hearing Seokjin’s voice sing along to a pop song playing on his phone, Y/N caught him sprinkling crushed peanuts over a couple of plates of homemade Pad Thai. So wrapped up in what he was doing, a satisfied smile on his face, he didn’t realize Y/N was leaning against the coffee bar watching and listening.

“You have such a pretty voice, Seokjinnie,” Y/N announced her arrival, Seokjin squeaking in surprise and turning on his heel to face her, sleek black tail going ramrod straight. Immediately, his neck colored red at the compliment, his eyes dropping to her bare legs, exposed by her short robe.

“T-thanks,” Seokjin managed, embarrassed. He promptly turned his music off, Y/N smirking wryly, approaching the breakfast nook where he set up their dinner for two. “Um, everything’s ready. Are you hungry? How was your bath?”

“I’m starving! It was amazing, too. I needed some relaxation,” Y/N admitted, sliding into the booth, admiring the candle he lit, the perfectly set table, and the way he laid a napkin across her lap. “Look at this! Did you follow a recipe?”

Seokjin shook his head, rolling up the sleeves of his loose button down and sitting across from her, still looking bashful.

“No, pretty girl, I just tried to recreate the one you always order. I kept tasting the sauce until it was right,” Seokjin smiled at her, Y/N unable to believe how romantic Seokjin truly was– it grew by the day. “I hope you like it.”

Instead of responding, Y/N picked up her chopsticks and dove in, not caring that Seokjin was studying her reaction carefully as she brought the noodles to her lips. Y/N was shocked– not only had Seokjin completely nailed the sauce on the noodles, but something about it tasted even better than her tried and true order from her favorite restaurant in the center of town.

“How is it?” Seokjin asked eagerly, picking up his own chopsticks and nervously prodding at a sprig of cilantro.

“Um, perfect. Better than the takeout I get,” Y/N could hardly answer him, stuffing more food into her mouth, so beyond caring whether or not she looked like a goober with noodles packed in her cheeks. “Seriously, it’s delicious! Try it!”

Seokjin brightened significantly, digging into his own plate, immensely pleased by Y/N’s approval. The jaguar hybrid was the type to fully focus on the meal when he ate, so there was comfortable silence for a bit, Y/N trying her hardest not to moan and groan while tasting the delicious dish Seokjin cooked specifically for her. She felt spoiled beyond repair.

“So, I take it you’re not interested in a part-time job?” Y/N broke the silence midway through the meal, taking a break from inhaling her food by taking a sip of chilled white wine Seokjin poured for her.

“Not particularly,” Seokjin answered after setting his own wine glass down, pursing his voluminous lips. “I like being here most of the time. The book club every week is enough for me… maybe if there’s some sort of volunteer work this summer, I’ll look into that.”

Y/N was thrilled by that answer. Seokjin had made great progress with being more sure of himself, making his own decisions without Y/N’s prompting.

“There’s a farmer’s market that happens every weekend during the summer in the town square. They’re always looking for extra hands, maybe that would interest you?”

“Would you do it with me?”

“Absolutely. I usually volunteer anyways, but it’ll be even better if I can do it with you.”

Seokjin nodded happily, returning to his dinner, Y/N more than okay with lapsing back into silence so he could focus on eating. Y/N finished her meal sooner than she thought, wanting to lick the plate, truthfully. When Seokjin was done, she whisked away the dirty plates, feeling Seokjin close behind her as she loaded up the dishwasher.

“Here you go,” the sound of a bottle cap being twisted off filled her ears, Y/N’s empty wine glass appearing before her and Seokjin filling it, standing directly behind her. Humming, she wondered if Seokjin could feel the charged energy of the room, how enamored she was with him. “Oh! I almost forgot!”

Y/N raised an eyebrow, taking a swig of her wine, Seokjin suddenly digging through the freezer for a tupperware she had never seen before. Fiddling with the sash of her robe, she took the opportunity to check him out; the billowy white button-down he was wearing hid his figure but still made him look like an off-duty model, tucked into a pair of dark jeans. Swallowing thickly, she composed herself when he turned again, presenting the tupperware proudly.

“What’s that, honey?” Y/N cocked her head, Seokjin prying the lid open and fumbling for the utensil drawer to pull out a couple of spoons.

“Remember that ice cream maker we found in the back of the pantry? I got it to work! I made some coconut ice cream this morning.”

Y/N stared, dumbfounded, at the ice cream. The buttery, rich scent of coconut and vanilla coming from the soft serve and making her mouth water, even if she did just gorge herself on a mountain of Pad Thai. She was gawking at the tupperware stupidly when Seokjin tapped her cheek with two fingers, Y/N finding his vibrant orange eyes focusing on her mouth.

“Open up,” Seokjin’s tone turned playful, a spoonful of ice cream poised before her lips, Y/N automatically heeding his request. Mood shifting, the jaguar hybrid fed her the ice cream, the treat melting over her taste buds and cooling her rising temperature. Of course, it was luscious. “Good? I added some lime zest, and–”

Seokjin promptly shut up when Y/N was hoisting herself up onto the island, now eye-level with him, tongue passing over her lips. Gently, she took the spoon from Seokjin, scooping up some more ice cream and popping it into her mouth. Seokjin simply watched, overwhelmed; not able to decide where to look. The spoon in her mouth and the mischief in her eyes, the robe that was slipping over her shoulder, or her bare parted legs.

“Wanna try some, Jin?” Her voice was soft, lilting, and Seokjin was melting like the ice cream. All he could do was nod.

Y/N took matters into her own hands, reaching out and grasping the loose collar of his shirt, yanking him forward and in between her legs. Startled, Seokjin’s pupils dilated, his hands finding purchase on the granite on either side of her thighs. Nonchalantly, Y/N scooped up another spoonful of ice cream, using her free hand to poise under Seokjin’s chin, mirroring his movements just moments ago.

“Open up,” she repeated, quietly, Seokjin’s eyes flashing. Despite the strike of dominance that rocked through him, wanting to refuse to give into her demand, Seokjin found his lips parting, Y/N cooing and placing the spoon in his mouth.

There was a moment, brief, electric, and heavy, where all they did was stare at each other. The spell was broken when Y/N teasingly tugged at his shirt collar again, Seokjin tearing the spoon from his mouth and carelessly tossing it into the sink.

The jaguar hybrid crushed his lips to Y/N’s, one hand gripping her jaw and the other resting heavily on the top of her thigh, a feral growl coming from his throat when he tasted sweet coconut on her tongue. Y/N reacted instantly, wrapping both her arms and legs around Seokjin, pulling him in close and pressing her body to his. Completely lax both from her hot bath and the delicious meal she was fed, Y/N could think of no better way to end her night– tangled up with Seokjin.

Seokjin was an amazing kisser. He tilted his head, allowing his lips to slot expertly against hers with just the right amount of pressure. Y/N released a guttural groan when his tongue was rolling into her mouth, exploring eagerly, the hand on her thigh squeezing. She tried to keep up, one hand clutching the back of his head, the other tangled in his shirt collar, wanting to close every single centimeter between the two of them.

Much to her displeasure, though, Seokjin released her lips with a pop, danger in his eyes. Transfixed, she observed him swipe an index finger through the container of ice cream, and holding onto her jaw again, he painted the melting dessert over her lower lip, pulling down on the flesh so he could slide the digit into the cavern of her mouth.

Dazzled and trapped beneath his turbulent gaze, Y/N tasted the ice cream clinging to his finger, using the tip of her tongue to clean it, a muscle in Seokjin’s jaw ticking when she hollowed out her cheeks, really laying it on thick. Some of the ice cream slipped down his wrist, Y/N whimpering when the cold droplets landed on her clavicle, a devilish grin appearing on his face when he pulled his finger from her mouth.

“Aw, but you just got out of the bath,” Seokjin tutted, pushing the material of her robe off of her shoulders so it gathered around her biceps, assessing the mess.

“Jin–”

The words were stolen from her when Seokjin ducked his head, tongue hot and heavy on her collarbone, collecting the cream that he spilled. Not expecting such a lewd, forward action, Y/N’s head dropped back, a breathy whine leaving her throat, Seokjin’s hold on her waist tight. Squirming on the granite countertop, her eyes rolled back when Seokjin sucked a bruise into her skin, pressing harsh kisses to her throat while she let him have his way with her.

“Seokjin, oh,” Y/N clasped her ankles around his lower back, trying to press her hips into his. “That feels so good…”

Seokjin preened at the praise, rewarding her with a nip to her earlobe, trailing his kisses along the length of her delicate jaw and back to her swollen lips. This time, she urgently met him halfway, flicking her tongue over his teeth and wanting to eat him alive. Lust was coursing through her veins with a vengeance, and she didn’t care if he took her right there on the counter, at that point.

“You’re too sweet,” Seokjin mumbled into her mouth, his voice strained, hands trailing to her lower back, making her spine arch into him. “I can’t help myself.”

Shivering in his arms, Y/N thought she whimpered out a ‘please’, but she yelped when she felt his large hands gather her ass in his palms, hauling her weight onto his chest and effectively picking her up.

“But S-seokjin, the ice cream!” Y/N cried when he started carrying her out of the kitchen, heat pooling in her core with the strength he demonstrated.

“Fuck the ice cream,” Seokjin simply grunted, Y/N chuckling despite the heated mood. Busying herself while he transported her elsewhere, she pulled a few of Seokjin’s buttons loose to expose more of his chest.

Taking it upon herself to give Seokjin a few bites of her own, she hardly noticed him kicking her bedroom door shut and sitting on the bed with her straddling his lap. Fisting the material of his button down in her hands, she found a spot tucked beneath the curve of Seokjin’s jaw that had him tensing beneath her, Y/N grinning to herself and sucking the skin into her mouth harshly enough to bruise. Seokjin made a dark noise of pleasure, palms still resting on her ass, letting her mark him up as much as she pleased.

Y/N cried out when Seokjin forcibly pulled her hips down, her core meeting the hardness under his jeans. Purring, he tugged at the loose knot of her robe, which was hardly covering her up anymore, pulling the material off of her body and tossing it aside. Y/N wondered if Seokjin had some kind of thing for her being nearly naked while he was still fully clothed, but she could not deny that something about that was driving her crazy. Rocking her hips against him, Seokjin moaned, fingernails digging into the meat of her ass.

“What do you want?” Seokjin ground out, Y/N dragging her tongue underneath his jaw. Instead of answering, Y/N straightened up, biting his lower lip, relishing in the feral hiss he offered in response. “Pretty girl.”

“Mmm… what do I want?” Y/N feigned indecisiveness, trying not to tremble when Seokjin’s hands began to roam all over her exposed skin, fiddling with the straps of her bra. Staring at her gorgeous jaguar hybrid, his cheeks flushed and lips swollen, his obvious hardness pressing against her sodden underwear, she knew. “I really wanna suck you off.”

Seokjin paused, astounded by the forward response she offered, his cock throbbing beneath the rough material of his jeans. Smirking, Y/N yanked a few more buttons free on Seokjin’s shirt while he processed that, before his large hands grasped her wrists harshly.

“Is that right?”

“Mm-hmm. Please? Can I?” Y/N nearly clawed his button down off of his broad shoulders, crumpling it into a ball and sending it sailing across the room. Lazily, she dragged her palms down the ripped expanse of his chest, the muscles tensing under her touch.

“You can have anything you want, kitten,” Seokjin’s chest was heaving, unbearably turned on, hooking his hands under Y/N’s arms so he could pull her backwards, the two of them now laying flat on her bed, Y/N on top of him. “Go ahead, take what you want.”

Nearly vibrating, Y/N leaned down for one last kiss, distractedly fumbling for the clasp of her bra. Once the pesky scrap of material was divested from her, she focused on trailing her lips down Seokjin’s body. She paid particular attention to the odd faint scar that was littered across his body, her kisses extra tender and sweet, Seokjin sighing gently and petting the top of her head.

“I love you,” Y/N murmured, lips skimming over the light trail of hair on his navel that led to the waistband of his jeans. Seokjin’s ears fluttered shyly, especially when she began to rid him of the denim pants, Y/N never breaking eye-contact.

Positioning herself between his legs, Y/N’s gaze dropped to the intimidating bulge beneath his briefs. Surprisingly, there was a small wet patch darkening the gray fabric, something that went straight to her ego. Seokjin was patient with her, waiting for her to make the first move, no matter how badly he needed to be in her mouth. Tentatively, she cupped what she could over the fabric of his underwear, Seokjin unable to prevent his hips from jerking up to the touch with a sharp hiss.

“Shit.”

“Feels good?” Y/N cocked her head, running her fingers over the length of him teasingly.

“Don’t tease me,” Seokjin warned, lower lip caught between his teeth. Heeding his warning, Y/N lowered her head, mouthing over him indulgently. “F-fuck–”

There were two reasons Y/N didn’t wait any longer; she was too eager, and Seokjin was pretty much bucking his hips into her face with a hard look in his eyes. Carelessly, she pulled his briefs off of his body, transfixed by the sight before her. Seokjin was achingly hard after just a bit of kissing and teasing, Y/N nearly going cross-eyed at the sheer size of him– not that she had forgotten how blessed he was in that area.

“Come on, baby,” Seokjin urged her, diving his fingertips into her tresses, one hand gripping the base of his cock. “Isn’t this what you wanted?”

Whimpering at the tone of dominance he was taking on, Y/N let him tap the tip of his cock against her lips, her tongue flicking out to taste the skin, making Seokjin shudder underneath her. With the size of him, her jaw would definitely be aching, but she didn’t care– only opening her mouth slowly, using a free hand to wrap around his girth, Seokjin’s touch returning to her hair.

Seokjin groaned when her lips wrapped around the tip of his cock, Y/N’s mouth already feeling stuffed full, hollowing out her cheeks experimentally and watching Seokjin’s abs clench. So far gone, wanting to reduce him to a mess, Y/N let herself drool over him for more moisture, taking him deeper into her mouth and tracing a prominent vein with her tongue.

“You look so pretty with your lips wrapped around me,” Seokjin commented offhand, a handful of her hair in his fist. “Oh–”

Y/N was only egged on by his praise, twisting her wrist and jerking what she couldn’t fit in her mouth, Seokjin beginning to whimper under her ministrations, his hips occasionally bucking up to meet her movements.

“F-fuck, kitten, you’re doing so well,” he gasped, Y/N taking a moment to come up for air, still steadily stroking him and kissing along his hip bones.

Once her lungs were filled with enough oxygen, she licked a stripe along the underside of his cock, fitting him back inside her mouth, ignoring the ache in her jaw. Whining at the taste of him, the sight of him, sweaty and flushed, eyes glassy, Y/N felt her panties sticking to her soaked folds and was itching to sneak a hand between her legs. Relaxing her throat, wanting Seokjin in her guts but wanting to pleasure him even more, Seokjin swore when she swallowed around him, yanking her hair and moaning brokenly.

“O-oh, just like that,” Seokjin encouraged, shallowly bucking his hips up into her, lodging his cock further down her throat and making her gag, the wet sound having his cock twitching. The scent of her arousal was thick in the room, heightening the speed at which he was hurtling towards his release, the tears streaming down her face as she stared up at him glittering in the low lamplight. “Filthy little mouth… fuck, I’m gonna cum, kitten–”

Those words only determined Y/N further, momentarily pulling him from her mouth to speak, her throat raw and scraped up.

“Cum, wanna taste you,” was all she said, and when she resumed her actions with renewed vigor, a free hand coming up to tweak one of her nipples, Seokjin was hurtling off the edge unexpectedly.

Y/N whimpered at his taste, Seokjin making similar noises as he came down her throat. Y/N tried her best not to choke at the volume of his release filling her mouth, slowing her movements when his hips began to jerk. Releasing him when he whined with oversensitivity, she licked her lips, satisfied she had effectively reduced him into a boneless puddle, kissing below his navel tenderly.

Before she could get her bearings, or perhaps massage her sore jaw, the world was turned upside-down, and suddenly her head was resting on her soft pillows and she was flat on her back, Seokjin above her. His lips were on her straight away, tongue in her mouth like he was trying to taste himself, Y/N’s drenched panties dampening even further at that thought. His hands were all over her, heated, Y/N surprised that he was still so turned on after his release, arching into his touch with a whine.

“You’re such a good girl,” Seokjin murmured into her ear, scraping his teeth over the bite he left on her collarbone before. “Love you…”

Y/N was writhing under him, crying out when he littered kisses across her chest, his kiss-bitten lips closing around one of her erect nipples. Grappling for a hold on his biceps as he stroked patterns all over her body, Y/N pushed her chest into his face, Seokjin breathily chuckling through his nose as he laved his tongue over her sensitive nipple.

Wanting to worship her, but scenting her desperation for his touch and attention, Seokjin shushed her when she whined pathetically, rubbing her thighs together. Sponging kisses all over her torso, paying attention to every freckle, mole, and scar, Seokjin hooked a finger into the waistband of her panties, lovingly removing them from her body and kissing either of her hipbones.

“Seokjin… please, do something,” Y/N was melting into her mattress, between his hands roaming all over her skin and the hungry look in his eyes.

“So polite,” Seokjin remarked, parting her thighs, lowly growling at the wetness that was clinging to the inside of them. “This wet, just from sucking me off?”

“Hnngh,” Y/N covered her face, embarrassed, Seokjin tapping on her thigh until she looked at him again. When she did, he was settled between her legs, Y/N reaching for one of his hands, interlocking their fingers desperately. “Please!”

This time, Seokjin would let her order him around. Stamping a kiss over her pubic bone, he got comfortable, gliding his tongue through her slick folds and relishing in the strained moan she offered in return. Seokjin wasted no time, mouth watering at the taste of her pussy, collecting her essence on his tongue and holding her down by her hips when his lips brushed over her clit.

“O-oh my god,” Y/N could hardly bear it, Seokjin just as good at eating pussy as he was kissing, tears running down her face again when he used the flat of his tongue to level a harsh stripe against her clit. “Jin–”

Humming, bringing a thumb to rub figure-eights on her sweet spot, his tongue dipped down to the fluttering entrance of her cunt, and when he plunged the appendage inside of her, it had her wailing, destroyed. Continuing to work her over, her juices steadily spilling into his mouth, Seokjin peered up at his lover, and surprisingly, he felt himself grow hard again at what he saw.

Y/N, her hair plastered over the pillows, was canting her hips into his face, and with the hand that wasn’t captured by Seokjin, she was cradling one of her breasts, pulling on her sensitive bud, lips parted in bliss.

She felt herself humiliatingly close already, though it was hard not to be with the way Seokjin was fucking her with his tongue, relentlessly rubbing circles over her clit, and staring up at her with predatory eyes. Releasing her chest, she buried her hand in Seokjin’s hair, digging her fingertips into the base of one of his silky black ears, Seokjin groaning and grinding his hips against her mattress for friction. It was filthy, hedonistic, what they were caught in the middle of– neither of them could get enough.

“I-I’m, ah! Gonna–” spine contorting off of the mattress when Seokjin moaned against her cunt, she came with a wail, her legs shaking violently as stars formed in her eyes, heat reaching a boiling point in her lower abdomen.

Y/N’s release didn’t stop Seokjin, even when she was whining thinly from overstimulation. Instead, he switched things up, sliding two deft fingers into her spasming cunt, curling the digits up expertly and staring directly into Y/N’s misty eyes.

“Come on, pretty girl, again. Cum again,” Seokjin cooed, Y/N shaking her head back and forth, saying something like she couldn’t– but Seokjin knew she could. “One more for me, alright, kitten?”

Dipping his head back down, Seokjin wrapped his lips around her overstimulated clit, and with a sharp suck and a well-timed curl of his fingers pistoning inside of her drenched pussy, Y/N was coming again– this time with a silent scream. Seokjin swore, rising to his knees, gripping his cock in his fist as he continued to finger fuck Y/N through her high. Y/N’s watery eyes went wide at the sight of him pleasuring himself, even as she continued to ride her high, gushing all over his fingers, and with a deep, feral groan, Seokjin came, hot ropes of his cum painting her lower stomach.

Y/N was out of body. She had never experienced something so goddamn sexy in all of her life, Seokjin’s chest heaving as he came down from his orgasm, Y/N gasping when he pulled his fingers from her cunt, spreading his cum over her skin with deep, predatory purrs. Twitching, overstimulated and reduced to a complete pile of mush, all she could do was attempt to catch her breath, Seokjin still admiring the mess he made on her stomach.

“Pretty girl, fuck, you’re so sexy like this,” Seokjin heaved, sweat dripping down his temples, utterly spent. It was all he could do, reluctantly, to reach for a tissue on her nightstand, mopping up his cum on her abdomen. “So perfect. I love you.”

Y/N hardly had the words to express what she was thinking. All she could do was limply lift her arms, inviting him into her embrace, Seokjin taking her up on that offer by landing heavily beside her, taking the quilt from the foot of her bed with him. She bonelessly let him manipulate her into his arms and tuck the quilt over her naked body, peppering kisses all over her sweaty, tear-stained face.

“You’re gonna need another bath,” Seokjin commented, tracing her ribcage beneath the blanket, Y/N tucked under his chin.

“That’s a tomorrow problem,” Y/N mumbled, knowing she wouldn’t be able to move for at least a couple of hours. “I can’t feel my legs.”

“Neither can I,” Seokjin snorted, shivering at the feeling of Y/N’s eyelashes brushing against his sensitive, marked-up neck.

“Another perfect date,” Y/N sighed happily, palm resting over Seokjin’s heart. “Hot bath, a delicious dinner cooked by my perfect boyfriend, and two orgasms. What more can a girl ask for?”

Seokjin paused the tender tracing of her waist, registering that statement, before his chest had delirious laughter bubbling in it, shaking his head and nuzzling his nose into her hair.

“I think I’ve developed a thing for spoiling you,” Seokjin admitted, squeezing her waist.

“Don’t stop anytime soon. I’ve grown accustomed to it,” Y/N shot back playfully, her words slightly warbled as she yawned. “I love you, Seokjinnie.”

Seokjin returned the sentiment quietly, seriously, pulling her even closer into his embrace if that was even possible, his tail winding around her thigh.

“Tired? Let’s get some rest,” Seokjin’s siren-like voice always lulled her to sleep, so she was nodding sleepily against his chest like a three week old kitten.

“You’re gonna take that bath with me in the morning,” Y/N slurred, Seokjin humming contentedly in response.

“Anything you want.”

Sunday had Y/N loading half of her witchy tools into Namjoon’s van, making trips back and forth with baskets of various herbs, incense, crystals, and whatnot. Namjoon and Jeongguk had already packed up all of the tapes and photographs the three of them collected during their two investigations, so they let Y/N select her own materials she’d need to close the portal in the Sanders’ home. It was a sunny day, finally a bit warmer than it had been, spring definitely on the way. Songbirds began to make nests in the eaves of the roof of the house, and Yoongi had dragged the basketball hoop back outside for the nicer weather.

Singing a tune, Y/N organized the last bin of spell candles within Namjoon’s van, and when she was satisfied with how everything looked– she had brought in a few more pillows and blankets for their comfort– Y/N hopped out of the vehicle and locked it up. Thinking of checking on Jimin in the stable, she was rounding the van in the driveway when she heard gravel crunching, the sound of a car pulling in. Turning, she saw her Land Cruiser being parked in its usual spot, Y/N unable to see who had taken it out that afternoon. Deciding to wait and greet whoever it was, she leaned against the dusty side of the van, tapping her foot.

The first thing she saw was a curly head of black hair as the driver’s door opened, Y/N smiling as she recognized the blue plaid flannel the hybrid was wearing. Taehyung must have gone out for more film or to shoot pictures in the park, Y/N watching as he slid his phone into his back pocket, still turned away from him.

“Hey Tae! You’re home!” Y/N called, the Kodiak hybrid flinching an inch into the air, her voice surprising him. He spun around, looking alarmed and like he was caught doing something he wasn’t supposed to be.

Y/N waved him over, only able to see his head over the SUV, and Taehyung pushed a hand through his hair, squaring his shoulders. Lifting an eyebrow, about to ask what was wrong, she felt she was plunged into an icy lake when he stepped towards her.

Taehyung, his camera bag in his hand and eyes laser-sharp, had his clothes in disarray, and purple, splotchy love bites all over his neck.

Taglist; @blancflms @grazysf @sbromp @jaxavance @sunderlight @ot7nem @mageprincess7 @wittyreader @drenix004 @mayla548 @skyys-universe @ddaeng-angmoh @trtlthts @exfolitae @kalala22 @xiusmarshmallow @bangtans-momma @zae007live @paigetj @singukieee @serendididy @lilacdreams-00 @dreamerwasfound @ninjacups @osakis-gf @itwillbealways-d @xthefuckerysquaredx @momowantscats @molshole @uarmyhore @lopprhe @oopscoop @xicanacorpse @i-like-anime13 @demarie04 @im-sinking-in-mud @talkyoongitome @bangtxnbxunch @primrose2507 @kihyunniesmonbebe @7evensin @lilmxchis @00ihatesnaku @neverthefirstchoice @missyoueverysingleday @cathy-1997 @prybts @doublebunv @milopenne @steadycreationangel @rinkud @breadcheeksseokjin @nikkiordonez12

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roosterforme · 2 days

Text

Covering the Classics Part 10 | Bob Floyd x OC

Summary: Anna knew now. She knew all about Bob's poetry and how he thought about her when she wasn't even with him. Instead of it making her timid, she told him she wanted to go to his bedroom. Instead of taking it slow, he took it all the way.

Warnings: Fluff, angst, adult language, smut, oral, 18+

Length: 3200 words

Pairing: Robert "Bob" Floyd x Female OC (this story is part of the Beer Boy/Sugar and Jake/Jessica universe)

Covering the Classics masterlist. Check my masterlist for more!

Having Anna in his house again was an exercise in restraint for Bob. When he thought about tracing her freckles with his gaze, he stopped himself. When he wanted to kiss her neck while she stood in front of him while they built the bookshelf, he made sure he did nothing of the sort. It was time to organize his books now, and he had to keep himself focused. When she started to head upstairs toward the bedrooms, he tried his hardest to block out the idea of guiding her to the left and into his room instead of the spare room on the right.

The sway of her hips in her black leggings was so enticing as she climbed the stairs ahead of him. It was taking too much of his willpower to keep from reaching out to touch her, and that's how he responded poorly when she said, You have to tell me why you like poetry so much."

He barely considered his words before saying, "What's not to like? All of the emotions are there. You're allowed to write about any combination of emotions that you're feeling at any given time. And I think that's pretty cool."

Anna's steps slowed a little. "Write?" she asked, turning to look back at him as he made his way up behind her. "Did you say write?"

Oh. Oh no. Nobody knew he spent his free time tapping away at his keyboard, coming up with ideas and letting his brain run wild. And there was no way he wanted Anna to be the one to find out, especially since he'd taken to writing about her.

"Uh. I did. Yeah," he admitted, trying to think of a way to change the subject.

But she was way ahead of him. "What's something you've written?"

Bob laughed and recited a random line that was ambiguous enough for his liking. "Just some amateur gibberish like, 'Devotion woven into every breath I take. Love that knows no boundaries, no end.' Nothing amazing."

Anna was nearly to the landing at the top of the stairs when she twisted awkwardly, turning to look back at him with something akin to panic on her face.

"Bob," she croaked, and he rushed toward her as she sat down hard. He reached out gently, trying to figure out if she was hurt.

"Are you okay? Did you twist it?"

"Bob," she gasped, reaching for the front of his undershirt and pulling him closer so he was focused on her pretty face. "You're Sky Writing."

He froze, vaguely terrified by the knowledge that she was calling him by his pen name. But there was also a small part of him that was thrilled that Anna was the one saying it. Somehow it felt right for a second before it felt very, very wrong. Anna knew what he wrote. Anna knew about his romantic desires. Anna knew about his depraved wants.

"Oh, shit," he whispered as her gaze grew even more surprised.

"It's really you," she moaned softly, licking her lips and tugging him even closer. His knee came down gently on the step as he held onto her ankle, and even though the position had him covering most of her, she must have known she was in charge here. When he nodded, she started to close the distance between their lips as she whispered, "You're incredible."

Bob let his lips slam into hers as she tangled her fingers in his hair. She knew his words, and somehow she was kissing him anyway. In fact, she was wrapping her other ankle his around his waist and pulling him closer. He was certain he'd never kissed anyone on the stairs before. He was certain he'd never had an erection on the stairs before either.

He was very aware of everything right now. The sound of the rain hitting the roof and the windows. The feel of Anna's fingers tugging on his hair. The vibration of her soft moans as she kissed him. The friction between his sweatpants and her leggings.

"Anna," he gasped between kisses, but she was back on him immediately. There was no way she couldn't feel him getting hard. His gray boxer briefs could only do so much to conceal how badly he needed her, but every time he tried to ease his hips back away from her, she dug her heel in harder against his lower back.

When she released his lips, her nose glided along his until she was bumping his glasses. Her breath was soft on his face as she said, "Bob, I want you to show me the romance section in your bedroom. Please."

There was no way he could say no to her ever again.

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

Anna was shocked. Bob was Sky Writing. The poet of her wildest dreams. The man who wrote so beautifully, she could imagine herself being adored. The man who recently wrote about falling in love with a beautiful woman with intoxicating red hair.

His body was warm and strong over hers, and she wanted him everywhere. Each kiss was more perfect than the last. He told her he kept his romance novels in his bedroom, and she wanted to be treated to the same fate. She wanted to go there. When she told him as much, he started to scoop her up to her feet. In the dim lighting, she could tell his cheeks were flushed pink, and she knew she did that to him.

Bob guided her backwards up to the top step, and she knew he wouldn't let her fall. A few more stumbling steps and they were standing in his bedroom doorway with her hands holding his face and his fingers digging into her hips. "Did you write about me?" she asked softly, afraid he wouldn't be able to hear her over the rain, but too scared to speak any louder. "The new poems about the redhead?"

"I did," he replied without hesitation.

Two words and Anna's hands were trailing down the back of his neck, pulling him closer until they were kissing again. "I want you," she whimpered against his lips. "I've wanted you for months." She was weak. She was so weak for him and the way he smelled and all of his books. His hands tightened around her hips and slid down a few inches until he was holding her in place and slowly grinding his hard length against her.

"I can't stop thinking about you, Anna," he breathed as she kissed the side of his neck. "Since the first time I saw you in the bookstore."

She moaned and let him lift her up by the backs of her thighs and carry her to his bed with her arms tight around his neck. When he sat down, she was straddling his hips, and his sinful gray sweatpants did nothing to hide him from her at this point. He felt huge as she rubbed herself on his cock through all of their clothing. His big hands were up the back of her shirt, and his fingers felt rough on her skin while she licked and kissed her way to his ear.

"Show me the romance," she whispered with a smile.

"Oh. Uh..." He shifted like he was going to move toward the books stacked on his dresser where the soft light from a lamp made the room glow warm. "I have-"

"That's not the romance I want right now," she told him, and in an instant, she was laying on her back with her hands on the waistband of his sweatpants.

"Better?" he asked, running his hands up her sides where her shirt was hiked up, pressing soft kisses to her lips.

"Yes," she promised, spreading her legs wider so he could settle against her core while he pushed her shirt up over her bra. Her nipples were almost painfully hard, and then his fingers found them through the lace. "Bob," she groaned, earning herself his cock pressed to her clit. If he kept it up, she would soak her leggings. His handsome face was hovering above hers, cheeks tinted pink and lips parted, and she arched her back for him when he started to run his fingers to the back of her bra.

It had been so long since anyone touched her intimately, and here she was in a room that smelled delicious like Bob while he deftly unhooked her bra and guided it and her shirt away from her body in one smooth motion. Her body was okay; her boobs were too small, and her belly wasn't flat, but he was looking down at her and taking the time to memorize everything. Then he groaned her name before his lips found the valley between her breasts, and three seconds later she was panting.

She slowly peeled his white undershirt over his head as she could barely focus on anything except his mouth on her nipples. His glasses were crooked on his face when he looked up at her, and he sounded out of breath as she dropped his shirt to the floor. "Anna. What do you want from me?" She answered by rolling her hips up to meet his, and he squeezed his eyes closed as he said, "You want that? Because once I really get going with you, I'm not going to be able to stop."

God, that was the sexiest thing she'd ever heard. She reached down for the front of his pants and tugged at them, letting them slide down his narrow hips. He gasped a few obscenities under his breath, and goosebumps erupted on her skin. Then she slipped her fingers inside his underwear, and she was met with his thick cock.

"Yes, I want that," she promised, looking up at him and his messy hair and perfect face. "I want you."

She yelped as his big hands practically tore her leggings from her body, and then Bob settled in with his broad shoulders propping up her thighs and his mouth ghosting over her pussy. "I want you, too," he whispered before tasting her. One long swipe of his tongue turned into two and then three as she grabbed at his bedding and whined incoherently. "So fucking bad, Anna."

Had anything ever felt this good before? Bob's lips plucked at her clit as he whispered a line from his most recent poem, and she knew she was probably dripping on his bed. His hands were strong on her thighs, keeping her spread open. He buried his face in her pussy, fucking her with his tongue while she rode him. He was Sky Writing. He was Bob Floyd. He was the man her friends knew would be perfect for her from the very beginning. He was making her come.

"Fuck, fuck," she gasped as he sucked a little harder on her sensitive, swollen clit and plunged two fingers inside her. He was a bit rougher than she thought he would be, but somehow this was exactly what she needed. Her tits bounced as he finger fucked her until she got loud, and he circled her with his tongue before swiping it back and forth. He didn't rush it. He drew it slowly from her, just right. And then her orgasm left her with shaking legs and thrusting hips.

The words that fell from her mouth were unintelligible, but she put them together a little bit better as the buzzing in her ears dulled to soft, muffled whir. "Fuck me, Bob."

When he kissed her, she could taste herself. He kept his mouth on hers while he wrestled himself the rest of the way out of his clothing, and then his fingers were stroking her slit, making her shake more. His wet fingers moved to her thigh where he traced a gentle pattern as he said, "All of these freckles. That's all I can think about. The shapes they make when you connect the pretty, little dots. How I could spell out my name with them."

"Oh my god," she moaned. "Oh!" His heavy cock came to rest on her pussy as he continued stroking her skin, and his lips found their way back along her breasts.

"I wondered for months if your shirts were hiding more of them from me. Was dying to know if your tits were decorated as well." He ran his tongue in a lazy circle around one nipple as he grunted. "They are everywhere, and I want to taste all of them."

Anna was going to combust as Bob took a fistful of her red hair and slid himself down to her opening. He pushed himself in an inch, and she was already crying out for more. Another inch, and she was forcing her thighs open as far as they would go. He was licking and kissing her shoulders and collar bones while he slowly filled her until she hiccupped with need. He was so big, stretching her as her hands scrambled on his shoulders. And then he was fucking her, muttering like a mad man about freckles and the color red and how much he wanted her. His muscles rippled with intent beneath her fingers while he moved. This was already the best she'd ever had.

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

As the rain beat a rushed pattern on the bedroom windows, Bob moved at his own pace, needing this to last as long as possible. She was the woman of his dreams, panting and mewling beneath him as he fucked her. He couldn't keep his lips off of that one freckle next to her right nipple, and he didn't want to. Her skin felt like the smoothest silk, and she was beautiful when she was whining his name.

With a fistful of her red hair, he thrust harder, deeper, and his narrow hips pushed into those perfect thighs, already spread wide for him. She was soft everywhere as she took him, and the gentle bounce of her tits was mesmerizing.

Then he felt that first squeeze, and he shivered as Anna's fingers dug into the back of his neck. She looked surprised as he released her nipple in favor of her lips, licking at the pretty freckles on her cheek before he kissed her. He had her bottom lip tucked between his as she clenched his cock again and gasped his name. That's all he wanted to hear for the rest of his life.

"Say it again," he murmured, and when he bottomed out, he was treated to her gasping voice once more. He stroked her temple with his thumb, drawing his name out of her again and again as she looked up at him with wide, brown eyes. She knew exactly who was doing this to her, and Bob wanted to be sure she remembered how it felt when her pussy started to milk him. She had to be close, and he was too as he told her, "Say it one more time."

Her voice was soft and lighter than air. "Bob." Then her head tipped back as he fucked her with a dozen intentional strokes, pressing against her clit until she got loud. She was clenching him harder as her hips came up off of his bed, and she cried out as she clung to him. Her legs were shaking, and her fingers were tugging at his hair, and the next few strokes into her tight pussy were just for him.

"Anna," he gasped as his glasses slid down his nose. He felt the familiar pull at the base of his spine. It was a warning, and he knew it. "Do I need to pull out?" But she was just starting to come down from her second orgasm, and all she seemed to be able to do was look up at him with a dreamy expression that he didn't want to see vanish yet. He kissed her lips gently even as he thrusted deep and whispered, "Baby, do I need to pull out?"

She was shaking her head just slightly from side to side, and he was afraid to take that as the answer he was looking for, but he didn't want to pull out. He wanted to cum inside her. After he asked one more time, she finally whispered, "No." And then it was a done deal. He filled her up, practically shouting her name as she kissed along his jaw and chin, completely sated and soft underneath him.

Bob smiled at Anna and buried his face against her neck and shoulder, fighting the urge to tell her exactly how much she meant to him. He was still deep inside her as he kissed her ear and whispered her name, and soft laughter bubbled from her lips. His fingers were still tangled in her hair, but his grasp was gentler now. He would get up and make dinner for her, and then maybe she would want to join him in the shower before snuggling in bed. If she wanted to go for round two, he wouldn't say no. Perhaps he could convince her to sleep over and let him drop her off at her place early on Monday morning. They could read some poetry together. Maybe he could even read what he'd written about her on PoetsAmongUs.

Feeling better than he had in months, he started to pull himself free from her inviting body. He let his soft cock slip free, watching as his thick cum dribbled out of her, and he moaned before she sat up slightly. He kissed her knee before he asked, "Want me to make you a grilled cheese sandwich for dinner? I usually burn them, but I'll make sure yours is perfect. And then maybe we can talk about us?"

He was rubbing his fingers along her ankle where there was a particularly attractive cluster of freckles when she abruptly sat up. Her brown eyes were wild as she repeated, "Us?" Bob was nodding, his smile tentative now, but it faded into nothing as she yanked her ankle away and scrambled off of his bed. "Oh no," she whispered, and he watched in horror as tears filled her eyes as she pulled her clothing back on.

"Anna?" he asked softly, climbing out of bed next to her and reaching for his sweatpants. "What's.... did I do something wrong?"

"No," she sobbed, swiping at her tears while refusing to meet his eyes as she slipped her shirt over her bra and turned toward his bedroom door. "You always do everything right. That's why I couldn't help myself."

Now he found himself chasing her down the stairs. He watched her pick up her phone and shove her feet into her shoes. "I don't understand," he whispered, running his hands through his hair as he stood there and watched her wrench his front door open.

The sound of the rain got louder as she pushed open the screen door, but he could still clearly hear every word she said to him with pure agony on her face. "I'm so sorry, Bob. I'm married."

And then she was gone, running out into the rainy night while his door swung closed with a loud bang.

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

He really rocked her world, too. Why is he so hot? Why is she such a mess? I love them so much. Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls

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#bob floyd x oc #robert bob floyd x oc #robert bob floyd #bob floyd #bob floyd fic #robert floyd imagine #bob floyd imagine #bob floyd fanfiction #robert floyd fanfiction #robert floyd x oc #robert floyd #robert floyd fic #top gun imagine #top gun maverick imagine #top gun fanfiction #top gun maverick fanfiction #roosterforme #covering the classics

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worldlxvlys · 3 days

Text

one choice

part 6 of the CRUSH series

bsf! matt sturniolo x reader

warnings: angst, mentions of sex, cursing

a/n -> hope u like <33

read the previous part for context !!

MATT’S POV

when my eyes fluttered open, i was immediately met with a pillow that wasn’t mine. i knew this pillow though, and those sheets.

i had forgotten where i was momentarily, until i looked over and saw her. her eyes were closed, lips parted slightly while she slept peacefully.

she looked angelic, the soft rays of the sun seeming to make her glow. she moved around in her sleep last night, leaving her barely covered by her blanket.

i couldn’t help but let my eyes wander her body, taking in every feature. her smooth skin was littered with dark marks all over, and the blanket left little to the imagination. before i knew it, i was hard again.

it took everything in me to fight the urge i had to take care of it right there next to her. what would she think if she woke up to me jerking myself off to her sleeping form?

oh my god, what was gonna happen when she woke up? she would want to talk about what this meant for us, but i couldn’t handle that.

what if this was a one time thing? what if she wanted nothing to do with me after this ? did i fuck up our friendship? i had to get out of there.

i got up quickly and quietly, careful not to make any noise while i got dressed. when i was done, i pulled her blanket over her so she was fully covered. i looked around for a pen and paper to leave her a note, as i didn’t want her to get the wrong idea.

ok, she has nothing to write a note with. i’ll just leave her a text.

well i could have done that, if i had realized i completely forgot my phone in her room before i left. i didn’t make this realization, however, until i had gotten back home.

so not only did she think i was the type of guy to fuck and dip, but i also couldn’t avoid the conversation that i was running from in the first place.

it’s not that i never wanted to talk about it, i just wasn’t ready for our friendship to change yet.

was running away the best way to handle the situation? definitely not, but i only had so much time to decide what to do before she woke up.

so basically, my overthinking ended up screwing me over. doesn’t it always ?

what was wrong with me? this was the girl who made me feel safe and loved, and now i couldn’t even talk to her. how did i manage to fuck up this badly?

one choice. one choice stemming from my fantasy-filled thoughts is all it took. and the decision i made last night led to more poorly made choices. choices that i wouldn’t have made had my brain not been corrupted by her.

her face, her smell, those perfect little moans that fell off her lips, she had a way of making me ignore every logical thought that my brain produced. i was so desperate to finally have her in the way i’d only dreamed about for years.

now if i didn’t fix this, i wouldn’t have her in any way.

———

READER’S POV

when i woke up, matt was gone. the spot where he had slept next to me was cold, meaning he hadn’t been there for a while.

for a second, i questioned whether last night was even real. had i really fallen so deep into my delusions that i started to believe them? i found the thought to be worrisome, but i tried not to dwell on it as i got up and made my way to the bathroom.

when i caught a glimpse of the hickeys decorating my skin i felt relief wash over me. i wasn’t going crazy. just as quickly as it came, the relief was replaced with a new feeling; embarrassment.

i seriously let myself think that he would want something more. hell, he marked me like he did. but he didn’t treat me like i was his best friend, he treated me like i was a one night stand.

maybe he had a valid reason for leaving. i tried to talk myself out of the rabbit hole of assumptions i was about to go down, and picked up my phone.

once a few hours had passed without him returning my texts or calls, i knew. he was done with me, he had to be. why else would he just leave without warning and ghost me?

i should’ve know this was going to happen, people always leave me in the end. it just never occurred to me that matt could be just like everyone else.

——

MATT’S POV

when i got to her house, i let myself in using the key she had given me. “y/n?” i called her name, not receiving an answer.

i pulled out the ice cream i had bought her on the way to her place, putting it in the freezer for her.

when i got to her room, she happened to be fresh out of the shower. she wore nothing but a towel, her eyes widening when she saw me.

“matt?” she asked before rushing over to me, pulling me into a tight hug. the water droplets that coated her skin soaked into my t-shirt, but all i could focus on was the fact that she was in my arms.

i inhaled the scent of her fruity body wash, eyes falling shut as i rubbed her back soothingly.

she then pulled away, smacking me upside the head with her heavy hand. “don’t do that again matt, i thought i scared you off. i thought you hated me- i thought i lost my best friend”

i cupped her cheek gently, “i could never hate you, and i’m not going anywhere. i was just overwhelmed, but i shouldn’t have just left life that. i’m sorry, i was gonna leave a note, but then i couldn’t find anything to write with. and i was gonna text you but i left my phone here and-”

“matt, it’s ok. i’m just glad that you’re here now” she whispered. “but there’s nothing to be scared of, i mean- last night was just the heat of the moment, right? i mean, it had to be, why else would you leave like that” she whispered the last part to herself.

shit. this was the problem, i didn’t know what the night before was.

i didn’t know what i wanted, and i didn’t want to hurt her in the process of figuring it out. what i did know, was i wasn’t going to lose her because i got greedy. so, i decided i would figure it out later, but for now: “yeah, that’s all it was”

“so, we’re good?” she asked. “we’re good” i confirmed.

“good. then i’m gonna get dressed and then we can watch something?” she posed the last part of the sentence as a question.

“yeah, and i brought you ice cream” i told her, watching her face light up at the news. “wow, you thought you really messed up, huh?” she asked as she grabbed her clothes to change into.

“i did really mess up, but i won’t do anything like that again” i told her. she just smiled at that letting out a quick, “i know” before moving to go back into her bathroom.

“wait, you’re seriously going into another room to get changed? did you forget how we spent last night together?” i joked. admittedly, it was probably a little too soon to crack jokes like that.

“last night never happened” she spoke before closing the door.

shit, why did that sting a little?

masterlist

tag list: @lustfulslxt @flowerxbunnie @sturnssx @mattslolita @its-jennarose @sophssturn @bernardsleftbootycheek @queen161718 @cupidsword @imwetforyourmom @nickmillersn1gf @mattsneezing @chrisstankyleg @sturniolobltch @bethsturn @bernardenjoyer @mbbsgf @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @ssturniolo @blueeyedbesson @mxqdii @sturniolowhore @readerakayourname @defnotayonna @urmom2bitch @rootbeerworshiper @starsturniolo @hearts4chriss @theyluv-meee @carolinalikesthings @itzdarling @chrisstopherfilmed @judespoision @sstvrnioloo @littlebookworm803 @nicksdrpepper @chrisloyalgf @robins-scoop @fandomhopped @chr1sgirl4life @bbglmfao @55sturn @nickgetsmewetter @meg-sturniolo @yamamasjumpercables @vanteguccir @ineedchriscock @junnniiieee07 @breeloveschris @luverboychris

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r0-boat · 3 days

Text

Mammon wedding headcannons

Inspired by the poll that we had yesterday.

Sfw

After you told some of the devils what a human wedding is like, He wanted to hold a mock wedding just to see what a human wedding was like. Of course, he would be the groom, and you would be the bride. He doesn't care if you want to wear a dress or not. You're in a wedding dress. He wants to see you in white.

Mammon adores The idea of human weddings. The idea of being tied down to you forever being yours as well as you being his for all eternity.

Of course this human style wedding would be void of all the angel and church memorabilia, but keeping just enough to have it traditional. And if it is his wedding it's going to be a grand celebration. Giving you a taste of what it would be like if you did marry him. And of course every devil in all the seven kingdoms will be invited with glittering golden fused cards commemorating your wedding. The seven hells are in an uproar because Mammon failed to mention that it is a fake wedding. A mess you had to clean up of course.

The venue took place in a very popular party spot Tartaros for the rich and the wealthy with fountains of golden water and buffet tables with the fanciest and finest of fine dining Hell has to offer. Being crushed under the weight of expectation You feel like you don't belong and something as wealthy and as extravagant as this. You can't even imagine how much this costs, in fact just thinking about it makes your brain short circuit and your eyes water with tears at your empty wallet.

Mammon, Oh Mammon, showing off his wealth in a tux that made your mouth water. Your eyes were on him. How could it not be? Black, white, and gold, his hair slicked back, he looked handsome. Only for your attention to be stolen by a specific demon duct taped to a chair, foaming at the mouth and barking like a rabbit chihuahua.

Decked in Mammon's glittering gold and jewels with white lace, You can't help but feel the piercing gaze of Bimet who had been staring at both you and Mams this entire time with a... weird expression on his face. who also chose to be the ring bearer.

His golden eyes staring into you as Lucifer (He doesn't care either way to be honest) starts speaking. His eyes light up his smirk widens when the king of pride says "You may now kiss the bride" before your lips can touch someone slams through the double doors LEVIATHAN. USING HIS COFFIN THE TENTACLES CUT THROUGH THE DUCT TAPE HOLDING SATAN IN A MATCHUP YOU HAVE NEVER SEEN IN YOUR LIFE.

Leviathan and Satan team up to fight a cackling Mammon, which is something you haven't seen coming. While Satan and Mammon are duking it out, Levi, fully dropping the hating you act, grabs your shoulders and starts shaking you, his face red as a tomato and clutching his teeth so hard as he hisses out, "We are having a Fake wedding too, and it's going to be grand if not grander- blah blah blah blah!"

You stopped listening, honestly. You started tuning out the entire wedding as soon as You snuck a glimpse at how much the wedding outfit you're wearing currently cost in the changing room.

You didn't even know what happened because apparently according to Lucifer which recounted the entire story with pictures to you after you woke up from passing out.

#whb #what in hell is bad #whb mammon #whb x reader #whb mammon x reader #what in “hell” is bad?

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oneforthemunny · 2 days

Note

Just because I want to see what he does: Dom!Eddie, bratty reader is down and says "I'm not in the mood" - what happens?!

slight dom/sub themes but nothing graphic. fluffy shit with dom!eddie babying us bc we deserve it!

"Hey, baby," Eddie purred, twisting his finished 'masterpiece' in his hands. An old pair of handcuffs, that had snapped after a particularly intense night, fastened to an old collar bar he'd found. After days of work, scourging for parts, he'd finally had his creation finished- a spreader. Made with love, he'd told you sillily, batting his eyes at you so you'd giggle.

"Look, I finally got it finished. Made sure to go over it and put that epoxy shit on the ends in case they're sharp but- hey, what's wrong?" Eddie halted at the doorway, face falling when he saw you, lying on top of the covers, still in your work clothes.

Your eyes looked lifeless, dull and so tired. Cheek pressed to the duvet, staring at the turned off TV with exhausted boredom. It made Eddie's chest tighten, setting his proud creation on the dresser.

"Hey, look at me, sweetheart. You alright? What's wrong?" Eddie cooed, knee sinking into the mattress, the springs groaning at the shift in weight.

His hands cupped your face, pushing under your skin, thumbs brushing over your cheeks. Your skin felt warmer than usual, cheeks and forehead hot but not clammy- overheated, his Mama would always call it, when Eddie had ran himself into the ground, overworked himself. He figured you'd done the same, non-stop for weeks now. He should've seen it coming, the crash.

"Yeah," You muttered, eyes slowly rolling up to meet his. "Sorry, I was going to change, and I was just going to lay down for a second, but..." You muttered, turning into his touch instinctively, so gently.

"You're tired?" Eddie's brow lifted, though he tried to keep his tone even, void of the 'I told you so' quip he knew would only annoy you. Even though he had told you so.

You sighed gently, a slow exhale, eyes blinking blearily. "Yeah, but gimme just a second. I'll wake back up." You knuckled at your eyes, smearing the mascara you hadn't cleansed off yet.

"No, c'mon," Eddie shifted, moving to stand beside you, patting your calf. "Roll over f'me."

"Eddie," Your whine came like clockwork, but this time it wasn't demanding or bratty. Instead, you sounded tired, a halfhearted, pitiful groan.

"I-I don't know if I have it in me to play tonight." Your lips jutted in a pout that had Eddie's heart swelling. "I'm really not in the mood tonight."

"I know." Eddie cooed, rubbing your leg gently. "I'm not doin' that. Just getting you out of these clothes. I know they're making you itch." His fingers lightly tickled your calf, leg twitching with a small laugh.

It was his favorite thing you said, rushing through the door, practically pulling your clothes off as soon as your foot crossed the thresh hold. You'd give him a grin, tossing your blouse at him cheekily, "Gotta get these thing off me! I'm startin' to itch! I've been in them too long!"

Eddie howled with laughter the first time you'd done it, grinning wide every time after it, usually following with a wolfish smile, and something along the lines of, "Here, let me help you scratch it, baby." It usually ended with you on the mattress, squirming and clawing at him while his hands and fingers moved all over your bare skin, scratching your skin gently, face buried in the crook of your neck.

Not tonight, but Eddie was alright with that. As much as he loved playing with you, a part of him adored the days he could coddle you instead. When you were so soft and sweet to him, when you'd lean into his touches.

He'd pulled you up gently by your wrists, shoving the sheets down for you to shimmy under the cool linens before he found his own space next to you, gently rubbing your hip under the blanket.

"I didn't get to see your spreader." You muttered, cheek pressed to the pillow, eyes still closed, too heavy to open.

"That's alright," Eddie hummed, fingers massaging the flash of your thighs and hips, rubbing tiny soothing circles into the skin. "Show you when you wake up. Promise. Just sleep f'me."

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intromortal · 1 day

Text

l.hs x f!reader

cw: hee is a menace, making out, grinding, not proofread sorey

a/n: this was an ask but i'm a dumbass and deleted the entire post

you were hanging out at heeseung's place like usual, lazily scrolling through your phone while he took a quick shower. this was routine for you.

except he usually came out changed in a fresh set of clothes and hair barely damp. definitely not with red strands completely wet, dripping on his very naked shoulders and torso and with a white towel loosely wrapped around his hips, hanging so low you could start to see the shape of a v form.

you didn't mean to ogle, truly. but the way rivulets of water ran close to his brown perked nipples and on his chiseled abs, following the defined lines they created, had you simply salivating.

you cast away your gaze shamefully once you realized what you were doing, cheeks heating up from embarrassment.

you cleared your throat with difficulty as he kept moving around his room, opening drawers in search of something to change in with all the ease in the world, like he had to rush to cover himself whatsoever.

“uhm… can i maybe ask why you’re literally naked right now,” you interrogate, a hint of irritation in your tone. not that you mind the view obviously, you think it’s gonna come quite in handy during lonely nights where you need to get yourself off actually. but it’s also not gonna help your blossoming feelings for the man in front of you.

“i just forgot to bring clothes with me when i went in,” he deadpans, shrugging his shoulders while his eyebrow lifts playfully at you.

“you could’ve just asked me to hand you some, you know.” you’re doing anything in your power to avoid his gaze. or better yet, the sight of his glistening skin. “i’m sure i could’ve found everything for you in no time.”

definitely faster than how long he's taking right now.

“oh, so you just wanted to rummage through my drawers then,” he says, finally grabbing a pair of underwear and sweats. “nasty girl.”

you gasp at his accusation, hand slapping over your mouth. “i literally never said that,” you whine, dropping your phone on the bed and sitting straight with your hands covering your face, nails about to start digging in your eyebrows at just how humiliating this feels.

“okay, then i have to assume you don’t like the view.”

you make the mistake of snapping up your head towards him to deny this accusation too, coming face to face with his back.

and well, entire naked butt as he’s putting his boxers on.

you shriek out, dropping your entire body back on on the bed while he’s struggling to breathe from how much he’s laughing.

you feel the mattress dip as he puts one knee on the bed, his hands coming down to grab your legs and manhandle you underneath him.

you let your eyes wander down to his broad chest again, muscles tightening under the shakes of his full fledged laughs. they slowly but surely start to die down, his shoulders no longer shaking. he quirks his head to the side as he stares at your reddened face. you're avoiding eye contacts at all cost, focused on his midriff.

“you like them that much?” he teases, a toothy smirk on his face.

“oh my god lee heeseung, please put some clothes on,” you beg, finally meeting his eyes, surprised to find his pupils blown out beyond what you’ve ever seen them be.

he keeps staring at you, enamored with the way your eyes flicker down to his lips every so often, rosy tongue peeking out to wet your own pouty ones.

he cradles your cheek in his palm, searching for any hint of actual discomfort in your gaze, the other arm keeping him hovering over you.

“can i kiss you?” he asks suddenly.

you feel like time stops for a few moments. your breath stuck in your throat and you think you can’t form any comprehensible sounds to save your life, but prove yourself wrong when you let out neediest please you can muster up, speaking before you can ever register the word leaving your mouth.

his soft lips crash on yours in an instant, desperate right off the bat as he sneaks a hand up your shirt to caress the overhead skin of your waist.

he pinches you lightly and the pain makes you yelp, leaving enough room for his tongue to sneak in your mouth, sensually lapping at your own.

despite the initial rush, he’s slower now, taking his time savoring your sweet taste.

he thinks he might be addicted already.

he takes note of the way your thighs have been pressing against each other under him, and he roughly grabs a fistful of your thigh to push your legs apart. you gasp and take a moment to regain your breath, chest heaving up and down.

once he has made enough room for himself between your thighs, he lowers himself and grinds his throbbing clothed cock against your core, pretty panties on display since the skirt you wore rode up from all the movement. you throw your head back at the contact, a strangled moan leaving your parted raw lips.

he keeps grinding against you as he attacks your neck, messy trail of spit following in his wake. starting from your clavicle and arriving behind your ear.

“please, hee, fuck.” you slide one of your hands in his hair, pulling a few strands and eliciting from him the sexiest moan you’ve ever heard in your life when he sucks on your lobe.

“please what,” he pants against your ear, voice raspy and lower than usual. “please put your clothes on?” he mocks you, slowly moving to stand up.

“no no, hee please touch me,” you beg pathetically, grabbing his hand to stop him from standing up.

a second passes before he pushes your body forward on the bed, lowering himself so his face is close to where you need him most.

“touch you where?” he lets his head rest on one of your thighs, gaze flicking up to you to hold eye contact while he speaks. “tell me what’s in that pretty little head of yours and i promise i will make it all come true.”

#i wantes to sneak in some ab riding #but oh well #maybe next time #hee!#hard hours!#enhypen smut #enhypen hard hours #enhypen hard thoughts #enhypen #enhypen x reader #heeseung smut #lee heeseung #heeseung

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cutielando · 23 hours

Text

puppy ~ charles leclerc

requested by anon: Hi lovely, can I please request something with Charles adopting a puppy with his girlfriend, I just can't get over how cute leo is 😭🫶🏻

a/n: so sorry it took me so long!!

my masterlist

♡♡♡♡♡

You loved your boyfriend.

Charles loved you.

You were living the life that people could only dream of living. Living with him in Monaco in a shared apartment, you traveled all around the world with him, you had a flexible job. You had everything you could ever want.

Then why did it feel like something was missing?

As you looked around your apartment, the place felt empty.

You got that feeling every time Charles would leave for a race and you wouldn’t be able to join him.

Everything was silent, so peaceful. You loved it most of the time, being a nice change from your otherwise very hectic lifestyle, but it would sometimes become suffocating, being there by yourself.

Which is what you would tell Charles whenever he would call and you would be feeling down.

He had been away for Japan this time, your university classes holding you back in Monaco for the time being. He had called you as soon as he was done with the race, instantly feeling your sadness on the other end of the phone.

“Mon chérie, I can tell you’re not okay” he said, imagining you pouting on the other end of the phone.

“Amour, I’ve told you, I’m okay. Uni is just kicking my ass and my boss is being a jerk more than usual” you said, forcing out a chuckle.

Technically, you weren’t lying. Uni always got more stressful than usual as the summer break was approaching, and it was sometimes hard balancing it out with your job, but that wasn’t the reason behind your sour mood.

You had had time to reflect on your dilemma and had finally come to a conclusion.

You guys needed a puppy.

“Mon ange, you know I don’t like it when you try to lie to me. What’s going on?” he pressed, wanting to make you feel better by any means necessary, even if he was halfway across the world at the moment.

You sighed, closing your eyes and tilting your head back so it was resting on the couch.

Maybe you should have waited to tell him in person, but you figured that he would have more time to reflect on it until he got home.

“We need a puppy” you blurted out.

It was silent on his end for a few seconds. You immediately regretted saying it, your brain started to malfunction.

That was until you heard his sweet laugh through the phone, making your nerves slightly less consuming.

“You scared me so much, amour. Is that what your moping around has been about? Adopting a puppy?” his laughter had now died down, his tone being replaced with a gentle one.

“I just - it feels like there is something missing. We’re happy, we have a very spacious apartment for just the two of us and I get really lonely when I can’t join you for races” you explained, now pacing around the living room as you made your case to your boyfriend over the phone.

Charles listened to your rambling with a smile on his face. He knew how much you loved pets, especially dogs. You had grown up in a house full of them, going crazy over every dog you would bump into on the street.

He loved watching you interact with them, seeing you care for them even if they weren’t your own.

Which is why he had been planning to surprise you with your very own puppy once he got back from Japan.

Joris had taken care of everything, lying to you every time you would get suspicious or whenever he felt like he was about to be discovered.

But luckily for him, you did not suspect a thing.

“Mon ange, why didn’t you say something sooner? You know I would love nothing more than to adopt a puppy with you and grow our family” he said, already mentally coming up with the best plan to surprise you when he got home.

You sighed, realizing that you had been worrying for nothing. You knew Charles loved pets, and you had always talked about adopting one in the future, so why had you been so nervous to bring it up with your boyfriend?

Nobody knew, really.

“How about we talk some more when you get home? I don’t think this is a conversation to have on the phone” you chuckled, not wanting to delve into the topic too deep.

He agreed, wishing you a good night before he hung up.

But, despite what he had told you, he didn’t go to sleep. No, there were more important matters to be handled. Like figuring out a way to surprise you with your new puppy without getting detected.

He thought it over and over again, and the only answer that he came up with was picking up the dog on his way home from the airport from Joris. He figured there was no need to complicate things, you didn’t like complicated stuff.

The next day, you had woken up to a text from Charles telling you his plane would land in a few minutes time and that there was no need for you to pick him up from the airport as Joris had agreed to give him a lift.

You didn’t think anything of it, Charles always having made it clear you would never have to drive him anywhere, you were his passenger princess.

Figuring he would be hungry when he got back, you got started on a simple but filling breakfast, Charles’ favorite breakfast that you made when he would get back from good race weekends. You put on some music and started cooking, not even noticing the time passing by quickly.

You were in your own little world when you heard the front door open and close, calling out your boyfriend’s name.

“Charles? I’m in the kitchen” you called out into the hallway, returning to flipping the last of your pancakes before turning off the stove.

Charles didn’t say anything, afraid not to disturb the small puppy nestled in his arms and prompt it to start barking. He had discarded his luggage by the door, now only holding the little dog and slowly walking over to the kitchen.

He could have sworn that your reaction to seeing the puppy was priceless and forever imprinted into his brain. The way your eyes lit up and filled with tears upon seeing him was nothing like he had ever seen before.

“You did not” you said, too shocked to even move from your spot.

“I did. I’ve been secretly arranging some things in order to adopt this little guy. We were supposed to get him in a couple of weeks, but when you told me yesterday that you wanted a puppy, I figured I would speed things up a little bit” he explained, walking over to you.

You cooed once he got close enough, gently taking the puppy from him and nuzzling his little body to your chest. There were no words to describe how you felt holding your new dog, the amount of love you already felt for such a little human being.

The little dachshund puppy looked up at you, its deep brown eyes already having you wrapped around his little finger. You nuzzled your nose with his, internally screaming because of how cute he was.

“What’s his name?” you asked, not even looking away from the little guy.

Charles chuckled, knowing your reaction was exactly what he had been expecting from you. Already doting on the little dog nestled in your arms, like you had had him forever.

“Leo. Leo Leclerc” he answered, watching your eyes light up even more.

“Leo” you whispered, looking down at the newest addition to your little family. “Welcome to the Leclerc family, Leo”

You spent another minute or two gazing at the dog, Charles not moving an inch from his spot as he admired you interacting with the dachshund. He knew, in those moments as he watched you interacting with the dog, that you were the woman he was planning on spending the rest of his life with.

“I’ve never loved you as much as I love you in this moment” you told him, shuffling closer to him and stretching your neck so you can press a lingering kiss on his lips.

“I love you too”

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candylix · 2 days

Text

a functioning member of society | han jisung

Pairing • Jisung x GN!Reader

A/N • This takes place during the events of another series called one little lie. This can be read as a stand-alone fic, but some parts will make more sense with the context of one little lie. (The reader is not the same person as in oll!)

Summary • Jisung is sick at home... or at least, that's what he tells his boss. Really, he just wants to sleep in and hang out with his cute neighbor across the hall. However, less time working means more time fighting the thoughts in his brain.

Genre • smut (with feelings!)

WC • 3k

Content • no pronouns used but the reader does have a vagina, making out, fingering, oral (reader receiving), jisung has issues

Jisung shot up from his bed. He looked at the digital clock on his bedside table; it was 12:54.

He was late.

He had everything planned for today. He woke up early and called in sick to work, just so he could stay home. He was going to sleep in until 11, eat breakfast, make himself look good, and then pay his neighbor a visit across the hall. You invited him over to 'hang out' at noon, and he didn't want to miss it. Unfortunately, he forgot to set his alarm, and he hoped you wouldn't think he's the worst fling ever.

He scrambled to change out of his pajamas.

He might kill himself if he ruined this, like he'd done so many times with so many people in the past. There's only so much a dumb joke and a cute smile can resolve.

You moved in a few months ago, and ever since then, he'd been looking for excuses to see you more. You were gorgeous, fun, smart, and to be honest, way out of his league. He didn't know how he did it, but his boyish charm captivated you enough to have a one night stand. Which turned into a two night stand, and then you just started having casual sex every once in a while.

Maybe one day he'd want something more, and he could certainly see himself falling for you in the future. You were, quite honestly, a perfect match for him. You actually liked his personality instead of just tolerating it, and you were respectful of his boundaries when he avoided more personal questions. The sex was good, but your friendship was better, and for now, this was enough. Whether or not his feelings would grow, he liked to live in the moment- and in this particular moment, he was very late.

He knocked on your door, and when you didn't answer fast enough, he knocked again. Were you ignoring him? Did you get tired of waiting and leave?

He finally heard the door unlocking, and he breathed a sigh of relief.

He stood leaning one hand against the door frame, trying his best to look cool, calm, and collected. Unbeknownst to him, his messy hair stood up on end and his shirt was half-buttoned and half-collared, and when you finally opened the door, he gave the impression that he just woke up.

"Good morning, sleepyhead," you said, and your fingers combed through his hair, smoothing it down to look more presentable.

"I wasn't sleeping... I was just sick." He faked a cough, a purposefully unconvincing performance.

"Ew, go home then," you laughed. You lightly shoved him, and he dramatically staggered back.

"How dare you! Do you know how hard it was for me to get here?" he asked, knowing full well his door was three feet behind him. "I had to climb uphill, both ways, in the snow, barefoot, just to see you."

You looked down. He was wearing pink fuzzy slippers.

"Just get in here," you said, and opened the door wider to let him in.

You barely had time to close the door before he pulled your face towards his own. His lips met yours, and he pressed himself into your body. He couldn't keep his hands to himself, and you felt the ghost of his fingertips all over your back, until they finally found purchase in your hair. His tongue slipped over your soft lips, asking for entrance, and you gladly parted them for him.

Your back met the door as he pinned you against it. You cupped his cheeks, melting deeper into the kiss, and soft moans passed between his lips. He rolled his hips into yours, hungry for as much contact as possible.

Suddenly, you heard something. It sounded like... creepy carnival music.

He pulled away from the kiss.

"Sorry, that's my phone. My friend is calling me," he said, no attempt to turn it off or indication of how ridiculous this situation was. Knowing him, this was probably in his top 10 most normal things to happen while making out.

"What... why is that that ringtone?"

"One day he pissed me off and I changed his ringtone, and then I just never put it back," he explained. "He hates it, but I kind of find it endearing now, like my nightmare clown friend is calling."

The music continued to play, creepy music box melody haunting the room while sinister laughter faded in and out. You couldn't believe this is the man you invited over.

"Aren't you gonna pick up?"

He took his phone out of his pocket, and threw it across the room, landing on your couch and bouncing across the cushions.

"But it's so far..." he said, weakly raising his arm out towards the couch, as if the phone was barely out of reach.

He cupped your face, and went in for another kiss, but you struggled to kiss back. The music completely killed the vibe. You tried to get back into the mood, your hand finding its way into his hair, but his phone was too distracting.

It's only when his hand reached between your thighs that you're finally able to forget about it. You don't know when it stopped, because your mind was consumed with his tongue in your mouth and his hand on your cunt. It clouded over with thoughts of Jisung and his body, and it wasn't until he picked you up and carried you half way to your room that you came back to reality.

His mouth was still pressed against yours when he laid you down on your bed. Your legs were wrapped around his waist, not wanting him to go. You were too addicted to the taste of his tongue, and when he broke away for air, you chased his lips back onto your own. You could tell he felt it too, with the way the hard bulge in his pants pressed against you when he leaned further in.

He was finally able to part from you, and he peppered kisses over your nose, cheeks, chin, where ever he could reach. He lowered himself down your body, kissing you over your clothing, until his head reached your crotch. He wasted no time pulling down your pants. He licked your core over the wet spot in your underwear, savoring the taste of your arousal for him.

Maybe you would've been like this for just anybody, wet and excited for a touch, but he wanted to think this was especially for him. He didn't care if you fucked other people- that would be hypocritical, considering he'd fuck anyone that asked- but he did look forward to seeing you the most, and he hoped you at least felt that way too.

He nestled deeper into your clothed cunt, nose pressed into you, just to stall until you couldn't take it anymore. You whimpered his name, asking for him to do anything, to please touch you, and the sound of you begging for him was like a sweet melody that he never wanted to stop listening to. You liked him, you wanted him, you needed him.

"You're that desperate for me, huh?"

He finally gave in, and pulled your underwear down your legs, stuffing it into his pocket.

If there was one thing Jisung liked, it was the way you reacted when he licked up your folds, lapping up your juices and seeing you squirm. Both his heart and his dick throbbed seeing you get this worked up because of him.

Words could be deceitful. He was painfully aware of this. His thoughts haunted him when he was alone.

But when your fingers combed through his hair, pushing his face closer to your core, those thoughts vanished. He knew, at least right now, you wanted him here. Words could deceive, but actions under the influence of pure pleasure didn't lie.

He inserted one finger, slowly pumping in and out while his tongue flicked over your clit. He licked and sucked, tongue poking down into your hole, savoring the way his name spilled out of your lips. You rocked into his face, needing every inch of him on your pussy, and he happily obliged. He licked a long stripe up your cunt, making you gasp, and he pulled out his finger to tease your entrance. You were soaking wet, and by the way you clenched around the empty space where he once was, he could tell you were desperate for more.

He pushed his finger back into you, a second finger joining this time. His thrusts were faster, and he loved the way you moaned in pleasure when he curled his fingers. Your bucking became more frantic, and he met your desire by sucking on your clit.

You could feel your orgasm building up as his fingers rubbed into you harder. He forced them into you, completely filling you up until he reached his knuckles, before pulling them out and pushing them back in again. You twitched wildly in pleasure, and he had to hold you down with his free arm just to keep licking your folds and circling your clit.

You were trapped under him, unable to grind into his face at the extreme pleasure you were feeling, and he gave you no respite either. He inserted a third finger into you, stretching your walls while he kept pumping into you, and when he pressed a sensitive bundle of nerves, you could feel your climax coming quicker. You barely had time to think before it came gushing out of you, a loud moan of Jisung's name being the only warning he got before his fingers were drenched in your cum.

He pulled out his fingers and replaced them with his tongue, lapping up your juices from inside and out. Not a single drop went to waste.

All he wanted was to pleasure you. Maybe if he made you feel good every time he came over, you'd keep calling him. Maybe you wouldn't get tired of him, like so many others did when they stopped finding his jokes charming for seemingly no reason at all. At least with you, he knew how you liked to be touched.

He didn't want to feel like his friendship was transactional, but how could he not. Everyone found him annoying eventually. It was inevitable.

He didn't want this to end. He was scared. When you caught your breath, would you expect him to go?

"Jisung," you called, snapping him out of a spiral you didn't know he was having. You patted the bed next to you, and he hesitantly climbed in.

Why was it that the more time he spent with you, the worse his thoughts became? It was like his brain couldn't accept a reality where you enjoyed his company, even though you were the one that invited him over in the first place. It made up excuses to explain how this could be happening; you probably just liked sex and he was the only one available, or you just felt sorry for him and somehow this was all you could think of.

You cupped his cheek, looking into his eyes to bring him back to earth. He pushed those thoughts aside as best as he could, and snuggled into your arms.

"Are you alright?" you asked. "You looked a bit distracted right now."

"Oh, uh, just thinking about how sexy you are.

He wanted you to smile, forget about your concern, but a look he can't quite place flashed across your face. It went away just as quickly, but he can't help but read into it.

Was that pity? Disappointment? Worry?

Was there a difference?

He wished he could open up to you, especially after something as vulnerable as sex, but he didn't know how to break down that barrier that kept his anxieties to himself.

"How was I?" he asked softly, and as if he was afraid of being genuine, he added "Was that the best sex you've ever had or what?"

"You were amazing," you said, and a bit of tension eased up in Jisung's body.

"Avoiding the second question, I see."

"Maybe if you used this," you said, and your fingers move to trace the bulge in his pants.

A sudden rush of nerves washed over his body, and he realized just how hard he was. He was so distracted by his own turmoil that he didn't even notice the way his cock throbbed in his boxers.

"I will if you promise to invite me over again," he said, winking at you.

"Of course I will, you don't even have ask," you said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. It wasn't obvious to him.

His heart beat in his chest. Maybe, just this once, he'd believe it.

His body reacts on its own, leaning in to kiss you. It was soft and sweet, an unspoken 'thank you' that he wasn't prepared for.

It's over just as quickly as it began, breaking away to snuggle into your chest.

And then his stomach growled. He didn't eat breakfast because he slept in, and he didn't eat lunch because he was late. He hoped you didn't hear it, but he knew you had to have. Maybe you had some granola bars he could snack on. He could check in the fridge, maybe you could eat together in the living room, make a fun moment out of it...

The living room. Where his phone was. Because he threw it there when he got a call.

He should probably see what Minho needed... but he was so warm and cozy. He didn't want to leave the bed, and he definitely didn't want to leave you. But he really should.

"Hey, remember when my clown friend called?"

You winced, remembering the creepy music that almost completely ruined the mood.

"No, I don't remember. I'm choosing not to."

"You don't remember this?" he asked, before singing the ringtone, followed by menacing laughter, cut off when you covered his mouth to get him to stop.

His creepy laughter turned into giggles as he tried to pry your hands off his face.

He finally did, holding both your wrists in his hands.

"Should I go call him back? The circus might be in trouble..." he said, and then sunk his head deeper into the mattress, "but it's so nice here..."

"You probably should," you replied, and Jisung groaned.

"Ugh, fine."

He pushed himself up, leaving the comfort of your bed and the warmth of your body. He walked out of your room, turning his head repeatedly to give you his sad puppy dog eyes. You shooed him away, and he finally left for the living room. His phone was still on the couch, face down and waiting for him to rescue it.

One new voicemail. Press 1 to play.

"Jisung, call me back ASAP. It's an emergency."

"Oh, shit."

He called Minho back, and he immediately picked up.

"Oh thank god," Minho sighed.

"What happened!?"

"Ok... don't laugh."

Of course, as soon as he heard what Minho had done, Jisung erupted into a full body laugh.

He hadn't noticed you enter the living room, but you couldn't help but be curious after what you heard.

"Yeah, I'll be there as soon as I can," Jisung said, and he heard Minho sigh in relief. "But I wouldn't worry about her. Trust me, I've known her waaaaay longer than you. She'll be fine."

The conversation didn't last much longer, Jisung promising to be there 'as soon as he finished some important documents', and hanging up.

"Are you leaving?" you ask. "I was going to get you some food."

The way you looked at him, sad to see him possibly go... maybe he should've felt his heart break seeing you like that, but instead his heart swelled. You didn't want him to leave, you didn't just want him for sex and nothing else.

"Well... if you're offering food..." he said, and your face lit up. You body language was expressive, and he noticed it every time.

He knew words could be deceiving, but your actions always told the truth. He would always have thoughts about how people perceive him, if they really liked him or not, if they would leave if he became 'too much'... but with you, he wanted to trust you. He chose to trust you, even if his brain screamed the opposite.

"Nah, I'd stay regardless," he said, "he thinks I'm at work anyway, so I can spend more time here, if you want."

"That's why I invited you over, isn't it?"

If only he could express the warm tingly sensation that ran through his body when he heard those words. He felt butterflies in his stomach, something he hadn't experienced since high school.

He was going to ignore what that could possibly mean for him.

Time passed, you enjoyed your time together, but he thought it was finally time to go rescue his friends. You walked him to the door, and hugged him goodbye.

You pulled away, and that's when you see it.

"Is that my underwear in your pocket?"

"Huh?" he looked to his pocket, and sure enough, white fabric was spilling out. "Oh... whoops! How did that get there? Must've crawled in when I wasn't looking." He pulled it out and shoved it into your hand.

"You know what? Keep it. You obviously want it more than me," you said, stuffing it right back into his pocket.

He was definitely going to use that later.

"If you say so," he said. He turned to leave, but you grabbed his arm to say one more thing.

"Just... when you're done, please wash it and give it back."

He gasped, and his hand clasped his chest in mock offense.

"I would never do something so uncouth-"

"Jisung. Wash it. It was expensive and I want it back."

"Ok, ok, I will," he said, and smirked. "You want me back here that bad, huh?"

You roll your eyes.

"You're lucky you're cute."

He finally left your apartment, and when the door closed behind him, he felt twice as light as when he came in.

taglist: (using the same taglist as one little lie since it's a spinoff, hope you all don't mind!)

@loeyscock @0325tiny @5starlee @miupow @mapofthemazeinthemirror @sadrosessing @luminouskalopsia @minghaosimp @curiousgworge @azuna-sz @piscesrising01 @g-bbzz @extrhotjne @nabi-tokoshi@kpopsstuffs

@weareapackofstrays @jabmastersupriseee @neko-squidblog @lurking-coconut @kiaralynn3838

@chanssmiles @linos-kitten @jehhskz @stanskzot8 @imperfectlyperfectprincess1 @ell0thebell

@hinalara @kaicreech @lazybean246 @idoughnutreadsmut @aeliuss

@the-ninth-moon @poody1608

#stray kids x reader #stray kids #stray kids scenarios #stray kids x reader smut #stray kids smut #han jisung x reader #han jisung smut #han jisung #jisung smut #jisung x reader #jisung x reader smut #han smut #han x reader #han x reader smut

188 notes · View notes

atrwriting · 18 hours

Text

future problems (pt. 2) -- coriolanus snow x fem!wife!reader

me, after posting a one-shot: “ok i won't do a part two”

me, a few days later: *posts a part two*

howdy y'all ;) back with everyone's favorite toxic white man of the month

this part is based on this anonymous request -- love you anon :) xox

find part one here

summary: reader finds out she's pregnant and has to tell the scariest man in panem -- her husband, president snow

as always, warnings: smut!, pregnancy sex, coriolanus snow is a fucking warning in himself, he’s a dick here, fem!reader, p in v sex, mommy and daddy kink just trust me ok)

barely edited we die like men

anyways... here is future problems (pt. 2):

......

he was told by a servant a month before you told him.

he couldn't believe it.

you had not bled last month.

it's not that he was mad... but he wanted to be told by you. he wanted you to be the first one to tell him. it was important to him — trust and loyalty, especially from you. he had allowed you to get close to him, physically and emotionally, and he deserved that same respect.

he couldn't believe you had kept it from him.

you. of all people. you.

how fucking could you?

it had been a total of six weeks since he had been told by the servant.

it wracked his brain like it was the fever that debilitated him for weeks. it gnawed at him, it scratched at him, and it fucking demanded every ounce of energy from him that he possessed. that sort of pain, betrayal — it insisted on being felt and dealt with immediately, no matter what needed to be taken care of first. corio coriolanus couldn't believe he had honestly trusted you, or even thought you were worthy of some amount of trust... and he couldn't believe he, for even a second, allowed either of you to live in that facade.

never again, he reasoned. never again.

on the day after the six week marker, there was a knock on his office door.

his lips fell into a grimace before he forced it to remain even — calm. no emotion shown. not anymore.

“come in,” he spoke.

his eyes fell to the papers on his desk, where he continued to write and edit his memorandum. his eyes traced the words he wrote, but he was barely focused on what he was writing. the only thing he could hear was the sound of your footsteps entering his office.

“corio?” you asked quietly, smiling, as you stepped through his door.

inside, he flinched at his nickname. coriolanus, he wanted to correct.

he did not raise his head. “…yes?”

he could not see you — but he knew that you noticed his flat demeanor.

it affected your own.

he couldn’t see that — but he knew. he fucking knew.

it wasn’t the first time he had been cold to you, but enough time had past where he reasoned that this would be the solidifying moment of your opinion of him. he knew that you knew he was upset about something. what else could have changed his demeanor?

“i-i wanted to… tell you something,” you replied, voice wavering.

he could tell you were working hard to ignore the obvious signs that something had shifted between the two of you. he knew, he knew, and he knew — but he didn’t care. he couldn’t care. why should he, when you didn’t?

“yes..?” he replied once more, this time sighing.

his eyes met yours.

your resolve immediately fell. though slight, he could see that whatever confidence you had possessed had faded from your face. it was gone… and coriolanus didn’t have the resolve to replenish it. neither did you have the strength to fake it.

he saw you begin to pick at your fingernails — another nervous habit of yours he had noticed.

however, this was a new one. once the pair of you shared a kiss — you were rarely seen pulling at the skin of your lips and your usage of lip moisturizer had increased. he appreciated it, at the time — but now? now it was a reminder of what once was. with new bad habits came the alert of the passage of time — and the alert of bonds breaking.

he couldn’t deal. he just couldn’t.

“what is it?” coriolanus demanded, eyes blinking.

your lips parted in confusion, and your brows scrunched right with them. there was hurt in your eyes, and splattered across your cheeks in a pink hue. your cheeks were usually flushed with graciousness or from alcohol — but this was embarrassment. hurt. rejection.

he didn’t care anymore, especially not when he admitted to himself that a part of him loved seeing your face and confidence fall. if he was going to fall, you were going straight down with him.

down, down, down.

“i’m with child,” you responded, appearing to struggle to catch your breath.

there it was. the admission.

he clenched his jaw. his eyes focused on your face — and how the tears began to collect in your eyes. the rejection he was sending towards you was even being felt by him — and he almost felt bad. to see a woman he so blindly trusted, who thought she could outsmart him — play the part of a hurt and broken hearted woman so well.

he did not smile. he did not laugh. he did not even get up. he simply stared at her — silently.

“i take it you are not happy at this announcement,” she responded, voice barely wavering. “i-i would’ve thought…”

coriolanus watched as you placed a gentle hand over your stomach — almost in a protective manner.

“how long have you known?” he asked.

“i took the pregnancy test today,” you responded.

coriolanus’ jaw tightened. he was not expecting that, especially not after the news he was given. “…but you’ve known for some time. you must have — given how you chose today to take the test, and don’t seem as surprised as you thought i would be.”

you narrowed your eyes at him. “…no, coriolanus. i didn’t. i had hopes, yes, but… i took the test as soon as i thought reasonable. you’re the first person i’ve told.”

confusion and hurt. that was all you felt. it encased your body like it was trying its best to cast you from the room — placing a heavy boundary between you and your husband. husband… if you could even call him that. your lips began to twist in a grimace as emotions began to well up inside you.

“tell me why i have displeased you,” you spoke, voice threatening to break. you took a step towards his desk and kept one hand firmly on your belly. your eyes, red and wet, bore into his and refused to leave him. “i thought you would be overjoyed. i-i thought…”

“you claim i was the first person you told,” he spat, holding your glare. “but i was not the first person to assume.”

you scrunched your eyebrows at him… but then you realized. it hit you like a ton of bricks. you bit the inside of your cheek, drawing blood, before stating, “your spies.”

coriolanus narrowed his eyes. it was not an issue that she knew… but he didn’t understand how she could know, nor for how long. spies were useful when their identity and presence was not apparent, and therefore he considered his current spies failures — to be dealt with later. at the moment… he had other matters.

“you might want to elaborate on that statement if you’re going to act like it’s something profound,” he spat, standing and snapping his journal closed.

coriolanus stood behind his desk and pushed in his chair. you watched him as he struggled to keep everything together, neat and tidy.

your face was red and hot, and you weren’t sure if it was due to the pregnancy or the betrayal. how could he? how could he?! there you stood, trying to remain collected — but it proved useless. through your tears, you spat, “a woman is supposed to wait before telling everyone she’s pregnant — god forbid she loses the baby before it’s viable. i waited the standard amount of time most women are practically born knowing to wait. if your spy is going to make my cycle their business, they should at least understand basic fucking female biology, coriolanus, or your spies and their intel are fucking useless!”

you didn’t wait to hear his response. you left the room.

he stared at the oak door out of entitlement — it should open once more, and reveal his wife.

the mother of his child…

he had never considered… things of that nature. tests. waiting periods. hormones.

incompetence. that of his spies — nor his own.

he didn’t understand any of it.

however, he did understand one thing…

he had to deal with the useless spy.

…and that would happen before he approached you.

that approach occurred approximately an hour and a half later. he would have found you sooner, but the spy had… taken more time than anticipated. afterwards — there he stood, at your door, with a tray of food in his hands for the both of you.

his knuckles wrapped on the door.

there were no footsteps.

they wrapped again.

still, no footsteps.

once more.

…and, still, nothing.

he couldn’t believe this.

he went to knock a fourth time, but before he could — the door swung open.

to reveal you in the doorway.

your eyes were blown wide with anger, but the rest of your face did not show emotion. you glared at the man before you, which unsettled your husband,

he picked you because you were unproblematic — but had gotten lucky with the fact that your company was so pleasant. you were not loud, annoying, mean, bold, disrespectful, disobedient, or anything of the sort — but he did not expect this.

he did not expect you… to hold a grudge against him, much less stand up for yourself.

he stood there silently — dumbstruck.

“i would slam this door in your face if you weren’t the president,” you spat lowly. “please do not make me forget formalities.”

“i brought you dinner,” he spoke, ignoring you. “please… join me.”

you raised an eyebrow, scoffing. “you’ve been ignoring me for weeks, when i tried to convince myself you were just busy. you can handle another night of dining alone.”

you went to shut the door, but he stopped it with his foot. your eyes lowered to where his toe was in the doorway, and traveled up to where his eyes were. as per usual, his facial expressions were flat, save for determined. he always had a goal in mind… and refused to change it until he succeeded.

you sighed. you had had enough.

“i’m not doing this tonight,” you bit. “i show you every ounce of respect that i know you expect of me. i have been patient, kind, gentle — but i can’t meet you halfway right now. not after that. leave. please.”

there coriolanus went. searching your eyes once more, like he had done long ago. his jaw clenched once, twice, three times before it finally settled. he did not remove his foot before he spoke once more.

“why didn’t you tell me immediately?” he imposed.

there was a hint of pleading in his voice. your breath began to quicken with anxiety. out of exhaustion and frustration, completely forgetting your station, you rolled your eyes at your husband before responding.

“what if i was wrong, coriolanus?” you spat, your eyes were narrowed. “why would i tell the most powerful and scary man that runs panem — that i am pregnant with his child, if i am not one hundred percent sure? to get your hopes up for nothing, if, god forbid, i lose it?”

he didn’t respond.

you threw your hands up in exasperation. a silent cry left your lips in the form of a broken inhale. your hormones were running rabid — coursing through your veins and filling you with frustration.

you locked your teary eyes with him once more. trying to keep your voice quiet, you hissed, “your spies aren’t exactly discreet. i’ve known about them since my first day here. your spies — they’ve never reported i’ve done anything wrong because i have never done anything wrong. it’s not like i can hide anything here, either — they’re everywhere. nothing is a secret — even a private moment between husband and wife, like a wife finally being able to tell her husband that she’s sure she’s pregnant with his child. i have given you everything you’ve ever requested of a wife, yet there you sat — throwing silent insults in my face.”

there went the boundary.

up and sturdy.

layer after layer of brick and cement. your trust and love for him crumbled with each new layer, until you couldn’t see the man you once adore beyond the wall. the man before you frustrated you so much that you forgot what it was like to look upon his face and feel nervous excitement at the prospect of seeing him smile. you wanted to slam the door in his face, placing two boundaries up — a real one, and an emotional one.

one that would prevent you from ever being so stupid again — from ever letting him close to you, for ever thinking this could work.

stupid, you thought. stupid, stupid, stupid.

but coriolanus corio would have none of that.

he was a man of formalities and manners, but your husband actually pushed his way through.

you stumbled backwards in surprise. your husband had guards for doing his dirty work — not the shoulder of his new and crisp suit.

he shoved the tray of food on a nearby table, ratting the walls and the contents on each surface. you placed a protective hand over your stomach and watched him — waiting for his next move.

“i said get out, coriolanus!” you spat. your gaze was fiery red, and now there were angry tears in your eyes. corio could see the hormones flowing from every opening in your skin they could find — even smell them. “i refuse to speak to you!”

“the father of your child?” he spoke evenly, walking towards you. “your husband?”

you took a step back for every step he took forward. “you were more concerned with the secret kept than the actual chance of life!”

“i thought you were keeping the chance of being happy about a child from me,” he spoke, bitterness instinctually falling from his perfect lips. “you can’t forget — we barely know each other —“

“and who’s fault is that?!”

he stopped. his jaw tightened. he stared down at you and wondered where all of this fury had come from.

him. it came from him. the realization struck him similar to how other pieces of information had been striking him later. in the chest or face, whichever hurt more — and forcing his breath to catch in his lungs. never to reach his throat, let alone his lips.

he couldn’t keep going on like this — watching and waiting. watching others for their mistakes, and waiting for the correct moment to… correct them. at the very least… he couldn’t with you — not with you.

“i committed a wrong against you,” he spat before he could think about it.

you scrunched your eyebrows in disbelief. apologies were rare in the capital, and admissions of guilt were almost as scarce. you stared at him, still consumed with rage — but now confusion began to creep upon you. and where there is confusion… there is always curiosity.

you didn’t respond. you clenched your jaw at his words, but that was the only response he received.

“i did,” he reaffirmed, stepping closer to you. you drew back a step — not far, but still a step. he continued, “when i had heard what my spy had relayed to me — i should have asked you.”

you had three options. ignore him, yell at him, or hear him out. did he deserve the first two? yes. did you have every right to do either of the two, or both? yes, of course. however… were they worth it in the long run?

that was the question that now ate at you.

you had every right to put up the same emotional barrier you had worked so hard to tear down with coriolanus. his? who knows why he insisted on making his hurt everyone else’s problem. yours? he was an elite asshole, but… you were married to him. he was the president of panem. he was the most ruthless man in all of panem.

and you loved him.

you really, really did.

that was why his distrust for you hurt so bad.

it wasn’t about seeking approval anymore — because you thought you had it, or at least had come to close to it. once given that, you felt safe enough, well… to feel safe. to feel safety, trust, respect, reliability… and love. love.

the fucking bastard made you love him.

with reluctance, you took a step forward. “you should have, coriolanus.”

his jaw tightened as he also took a step forward. “corio — please, my love.”

you scoffed out of reflex and threw your stare to the side. you began to rub at your stomach, hoping to quell your own anxiety. there were a million insults waiting to leap from your tongue and latch onto his face, chest, throat — anything to hurt him or get him to fuck off. however, you swallowed them.

“i would do anything for you,” you stammered, trying to keep emotion out of your voice. “i have proved that time and time again.”

he took a step closer. “i know.”

“i know better than to keep something substantial from you,” you replied. “god forbid it was a fluke…”

another step closer. “i know.”

“i have done everything i can to prove that i am loyal to you, and only you,” you spoke, your voice wavering. “in the future, i ask that you approach me first — yell at me, fuck, i couldn’t care less — just as long as you don’t ignore me. anything, corio — just don’t push me away.

he laughed then, only a foot away from you now. the tears in your eyelids hadn’t hit your cheeks yet, but they threatened to. he reached forward and cupped your face in both of his hands. he leaned down due to your height difference and pressed a kiss to your forehead.

“i know,” he repeated. “and i promise — i will try my best to not push you away.”

“okay,” you nodded, sniffling.

“never heard such coarse words from my perfect wife,” corio attempted to break the tension.

you chuckled then, wiping away any moisture from your eyes. “there were more — trust me.”

“i would have deserved them.”

your eyes flickered up to his them, searching his irises for answers like he did to you. you weren’t sure how he did it — but he could find every lie or fact inside someone’s eyes. that trait had not found its way to you.

but maybe it would to your child.

“i want to hear you say it again,” you whispered, now meeting his eyes. “i want to hear you say that you promise you will try your best to never push me away again.”

“i promise,” he spoke, nodding.

you refused to stare into his eyes at his admission. if he wasn’t a good liar, you didn’t want to know — not in that moment.

"am i allowed to kiss the mother of my child now?" he asked with a smirk.

you glared at him. "you would've —"

"shhh," he cooed, before leaning down and pressing his lips to yours.

one of his hands slid to the back of your head and cradled the bottom of your skull. he wrapped his free arm around your back, pulling you into him. the kiss, you couldn't explain it — it — it...

it was like he swallowed you.

there was no place for you to move, but then again — why would you want to? you body was perfectly molded to fit his, in every way he wanted you to bend to him. his warmth, his scent, his taste — it all coaxed your senses into such a feeling of satisfaction that you weren't sure where it started or ended. it held your consciousness in warmth and safety — something rare in the capital. the only thing that mattered to you was that you were in your husband's arms and the kiss did not stop.

"so pleased with you," he mumbled against your mouth. "a child..."

warmth bubbled within the lower half of your body. praise, from a man like corio... any woman's weakness.

you hummed into the kiss, rubbing your hands up and down his chest. "going to be so proud of their father, the president."

the groan that emitted from his chest was deep and guttural — so masculine. it made every hair on the back of your neck stand at attention, waiting for a direction from the man before you. you began to finger his top button, hoping... hinting...

"sweetheart," he spoke, pulling away. "as much as i want to, i am not sure whether —"

"i think i'm fine," you gushed, only realizing after how desperate you might have sounded. "we might as well — especially before i become too big to breathe."

he stiffened as he held you. you immediately grew worried.

"what's wrong?" you softly asked, rubbing his chest.

he shook his head. "nothing —" he stopped for a moment, appearing to contemplate something. "it's just — i was imagining —"

you looked up at him curiously, hoping he would elaborate. his eyes immediately flew to your lips — perfect and plump, a match for his. you smirked.

you had him. “what were you imagining, husband?”

his jaw clenched again as his eyes widened. “my pretty wife has become so much more bold since i met her.”

you smiled up at him, hoping that he found it amusing more than disreepctful. one of his hands found your cheek as his thumb caressed the skin. your eyes were big as they gazed up at your husband, keening into his silent praise.

“i disagree with you, wife,” he spoke. “too big to bed —“ he scoffed before leaning down to your ear, your words rolling with disgust off his tongue. his lips brushed against the skin of your lobe before he spoke, “i’ll have a hard time keeping my hands to myself when the mother of my children will swell with me inside of her.”

your eyes, still wide, were frozen on corio’s. mischief danced in his irises, like a snake coiling around its prey. air left his nostrils in a small, sudden gush — amusement. the look that played on his face depicted the power imbalance — but, then again, how stupid could you be to ever think you would have control over your husband for a substantial amount of time?

he grasped your chin in his fingers before your lips parted. you were at his mercy — to be bent to his will. his head bent towards you before he spoke.

“you think you’ll repulse me — when my seed takes inside you, and it shows?” he asked. his eyes searched yours — but what yours reveal that he didn’t already know? he had you. he had you, and there was nothing you could do about it. “my naive, little wife… i don’t expect i’ll allow you to leave the bedroom much when that time comes.”

christ, you thought. your breath began to quicken as his words settled upon you. in a soft voice, you replied, “you leave me speechless, husband.”

he wickedly smiled then. “get on the bed, sweetheart. making up for lost time is in order, wouldn’t you agree?”

you couldn’t help yourself. you should’ve listened to him — but how could you, when he smelled so good, spoke so nicely, and was so close? you rolled onto your toes just enough to be able to press a kiss to your husband’s lips, and wrap your arms around his neck.

the angle was annoying for corio, who thought pulling you into his arms would be better use of his strength — especially if you weren’t going to listen. his large hands held your ass, supporting your weight as you leaned into his touch. your breasts, arched into his chest, were the only barrier that kept you two apart. there was nothing like a kiss from corio — heat, lips, teeth, spit. all of it melted into one.

“you missed me… didn’t you, sweetheart?”

“yes,” you spoke, breathlessly. “so much, corio.”

“i was so mean —“ he replied, in between kisses. “wasn’t i? neglecting my perfect wife. a good husband would have to make up for that.”

you hummed in agreement, almost breaking into a whine. “kiss me, corio. missed you so much…“

it was like he swallowed you. body, lips, breath, emotions — all of it. once yours, but now his. all his. your body temperature increased with every fold of his lips against yours. heat pricked at the tips of your cheeks, the back of your neck, and your lower back. your fingertips, tingling, made quick work of his buttons to strip him of his clothing.

he couldn’t deal with how slow and gentle your fingers were. he loved you and how gentle you were — but when his cock was straining against his pants? the head of his cock, so red it was almost purple, leaking at the sight of his redeemed, perfect, pregnant wife? begging for him?

you were fucked. so fucked.

he should've been disgusted at the thought of fucking his wife while the babe sat protected inside your womb. however, nothing could stop corio from rejoicing at the fact that you had never done him wrong when you had actually presented him with a gift, also showing the utmost protection for it.

you fell back against the bed, your back awkwardly landing on the edge. you couldn't stand or lay back perfectly balanced, therefore relying on your husband to hold you upright and your grip of his clothes.

"my perfect wife —" he moaned into your neck, mouthing at your clammy skin. he had shoved his hand into your panties, finding you already soaked. "glowing as a mother —"

it was like you were both succumbing to the heat and haze of all-consuming lust. your hot breaths added to the humidity in the air, making your embrace with corio feel like a sauna. he couldn't rip your lace stockings off fast enough as you struggled to hold your balance.

your husband loomed over you as one large hand cupped the back of your head. his long, talented fingers on his other hand drew rough circles on your sensitive bud and you couldn't contain your cries. it had been so long. so, so long. the feeling of loneliness and lust had dissipated and was replaced by satiation. you need corio's hot, and husky breath groaning against your ear and all of your muscles holding you up and in place, forced to take everything he could give you. tears began to well up in your eyes at the thought of not only having your corio back, but for the lonely need for intimacy to also leave you.

he laughed darkly. "you're so close already, aren't you?"

you whined, struggling to regain your composure as you fought through embarrassment. "it's just been — so long —"

"how would you feel if i took it away, little dove?" he asked, eyes taunting. "how helpless would you feel? — how much of a mess would you make?"

"don't take it away from me, corio, please —" frustration was eating at you as you held onto him. he was so far away, then so close, and he was threatening to pull away as if it was a game. your feelings, your safety, you — all a game to him.

the hand on the back of your head left you to grasp at your chin as tears rolled down your face. your teeth were firmly planted in your bottom lip as you struggled against his touch. the rope in your womb was being wrapped so tightly that you felt the strands would snap at any moment, but you knew he would pull away. his eyes, dark and boring into yours, spoke for him — you were right. it was a game, and he was loving it.

"tell me it was worth it — for this," he rasped, eyes still locked on you. "tell me all of the pain i caused you was worth it — for this."

you were writhing against his hold at this point, grinding your hips down onto his hand as you whined against his lips. you were pulling at the fabric adorning his shoulders, hoping to rip it from him — hoping to make him feel as strung out as you felt.

"it was all worth it," you croaked. "all worth it for how good this feels."

"i'll never leave you again," he promised, his movements now becoming more rough on your core. "tell me you love it. tell me you love me."

"i love you, corio — !" you cried, pressing the sides of your noses together so your lips were barely touching. "i love it so much — please, don't stop —"

"that's it, doll —" he groaned. "cry for me. do it — cry."

something snapped inside of you.

your eyes closed, and your vision went black.

your throat went hoarse from the sob that left your mouth.

your lips were ragged with how your teeth ripped into them.

but you? oh, god — you felt so full.

corio's palm rubbed against your clit as his fingers entered you, pressing into that deep spot only he could find. you rode his hand like satisfaction was the only thing that mattered to you. greed and gluttony — want and need. none of it mattered.

"mommy feels so good now, doesn't she?" corio whispered into your ear. "just needed what only daddy could give her. — s'all right — just keep cumming, darling."

"fuck, corio —" you whined, buzzing with overstimulation.

he clicked his tongue at you. "such a naughty mouth on you. i'll teach you."

and he meant it.

he immediately withdrew from you — letting you fall onto the floor with both hands on the sheets, facing the bed. you almost scrambled to get back up, until you heard corio's pants drop from behind you. he kicked open your knees, and found himself with your perfect round ass pressing into his cock. he pressed the front of you into the bed, and snaked a arm around your throat.

you felt the tip of his cock prod at your wet and swollen lips before he slipped his length inside of you. you tried to lean forward into his thrust, but corio didn't like that. with a hand wrapped around your throat, he pulled you backwards against him.

the angle made your shiver. the tip of his cock began to hit the wall right behind your clit, making your head go dizzy. his finger found the corner of your lips, dipping inside your mouth. he pulled at the corner, forcing you to look up at him.

"so helpless — so perfect —" he groaned, rutting into you. his head held you perfectly in place for his total control. "can't believe i let myself miss out on the chance to breed my perfect wife. so perfect, aren't you?"

you didn't know what to say. your head was swimming. you were barely down from your first orgasm and now corio was forcing another onn you. hormones, emotions, and sensations were running wild inside your body and you weren't sure how to make sense of the fever. coupled with his own frenzy, you were a mess. a rubber band, for him to snap and play with whenever he liked.

"i asked you a question," he snapped. "you're perfect, aren't you?"

you hesitated, working through insecurity as lust overtook your mind. mumbling, due to the finger in your mouth, you spoke, "perfect."

corio stared down at you in awe. your hair was a mess, as was the rest of you. your face was flushed, your lips were swollen, but your eyes... oh, your eyes... corio was a sick bastard. the look of any sight of wetness in your eyes during sex made his cock so hard he could explode. crying with need was a feeling corio would never let himself feel, no matter how much he wanted to let it overtake him. he wouldn't let himself feel it, but he couldn't hide the fact that he loved the vulnerability you showed when you wanted him. needed him. craved him. his thrusts weren't rough because he hated you, but because he knew that need all too well.

"keep crying for me," he rasped, letting his tongue fall past your ragged lips. "so pretty when you're a mess."

there was nothing like it — being held so tightly you couldn't move and being forced to accept the pleasure and satisfaction only corio could give you. draining you of every negative emotion you had ever felt to replace all of it with animalistic give and take. his own throaty groans were being swallowed by you, as his hips snapped relentlessly against yours.

"make me a mommy, corio," you whispered. "wan' it so badly."

his grip tightened around you as he shook with pleasure. with three thrusts and a heavy groan, he let all of his spend leak inside of you and paint your walls. you felt his rough voice against your ear, mouth obscenities as satisfaction overtook him. you hadn't came again, but you didn't care — not when the air still felt so warm and soft.

that was until you felt a hand find your clit with his softening cock still inside you.

you knew how sensitive he was, and you should've care — but you didn't. all you could think about was giving into how good his fingers felt against you, still feeling so full. the thought of him also being so sensitive while you rode his cock pricked at your senses, relishing in the fact that you were giving him a taste of his own medicine as you came around his cock.

"greedy fucking wife — !" he seethed, anger spewing from his lips as he struggled to fuck you back with his oversensitive cock. you knew it was so red that it was purple and swollen, hating you but loving every bit of you at the same time. you should've cared, but you didn't. not when you knew it felt so good for the both of you, his whines in your ear telling you everything. with one final groan against you, he spoke, "you're never leaving this fucking bedroom — i'll tie you to the bed if i have to, do you fucking understand?!"

all you could do was stare up at him with awe and tears in your eyes.

his mouth parted at the sight. with his cock still inside you, you still riding his softening cock as you rode out your orgasm, nothing was prettier. nothing fulfilled your corio more. with one last kiss, he spoke, "just as evil as me, aren't you?"

you giggled. "i love you, too."

---

if you're wondering if i went batshit insane i did HAHA hope you enjoyed

L xox

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wh1msic4alwasab1 · 2 days

Text

𝐒𝐢𝐫 ⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩彡

synopsis: working at your husbands company meant no short skirts <\3

tags: semi-public, vulgar, degredation, rough, spanking, penetration, explicit

wrd cnt: 1.2k

a/n: i need him biblically

You walked into the office, your high heels clicking on the floor, making it echo throughout the halls. You were late today, but no one would say anything about it. They all knew better than to tell your husband what they thought of you.

You wore a short tight skirt, which was a mistake on your part, but someone had to bring a little fashion into the boring corporate world which was your job, and your husbands business.

"Y/n?" One of the men said, looking at you up and down. "Are you coming from a party or something?" He said, chuckling.

"Nope…why?” You say, too tired this morning to jest anyone.

“Alright well, boss wants you in his office."

"Okay!" You gave a small wave and got up, oblivious as to what he’d need you for.

As you stepped into the room, you noticed that there was only your husband and another one of your colleagues. "I'll leave you two alone then." The man said without another word.

"Ah, y/n. Come sit next to me." Your husband gestured to the seat across from him, his desk.

"Yes, sir." You nodded and moved to sit.

“Sir”, it was a little formal, but it’s what he preferred.

He took your hands in his own, pulling you closer to him as he leaned back against his chair. His eyes never leaving yours. "How’s work so far?"

"Good, sir." You answered truthfully.

"Good, good. And how was dinner last night?" He asked curiously.

"It was great, thank you." You replied honestly this time.

"Great!" He grinned happily at you. "Now, tell me about these new clothes you bought for yourself."

"Oh, they're really nice." You blushed a bit at his question. "They fit me perfectly too."

“Oh yeah? They definitely turn some heads huh.” Do you know why?” He said, slowly getting up to hover over you as you sat atop his desk. So close you could feel his breathe across your cheek. His demeanor had completely changed.

You nodded your head, getting nervous as to what he was going to say.

He placed his hand on your thighs, squeezing them slightly before smacking them.

“Because everyone’s so curious as to why you look like a whore in my office.” He whispered, his eyes piercings yours. “Everyone wants to fuck you, you know that right?” His voice was low and raspy. It sent shivers through your body.

You shook your head, trying to deny it, but you couldn’t lie. You did look like a whore in his office. Everyone wanted to fuck you, didn’t they?

His hand left your thigh, moving up your skirt to grip your waist tightly. He pulled you towards him, his lips brushing against yours as he spoke once more. "Tell me, y/n. Do you want to be fucked by every single person who walks into this building? Or are you just trying to embarrass me on purpose?"

You nodded, unable to speak any words. All you could do was nod no’s as he gripped your body tighter.

“Or you want me to fuck you that badly? Let everyone hear? Hm?” He said, pinning your wrists behind your back, his body pressing against yours. “If I take off that tight top, would you let them all see those beautiful breasts of yours?”

“No-no!” You whimpered out, tears forming in your eyes.

“You want to deny it?” He growled, pushing himself further into you. “Is this what you want? To get punished by me?”

“Please...please stop,” You cried out, tears rolling down your face as he continued to push himself inside you.

"Then tell me the truth." His voice was deep and commanding as he thrusted deeper into you.

"I...I don't know." You whimpered, your body trembling under his touch.

"What do you mean you don't know?" He growled, his grip tightening around your wrists.

"I...I..." You stammered, unsure of how to answer his question.

"Answer me, y/n. What do you want?" He demanded, his voice harsh and demanding as he thrusted harder into you.

"I...I want you to punish me," You finally admitted, your voice barely audible as you spoke.

That’s all he needed to hear, all he needed to turn you right around and bend you over just enough and your skirt slid right up by itself; your ass spilling out and revealing the cutest thong too. You heard a snap as it hit your ass, along with a deep chuckle from your husband.

“tch- such a fucking whore.” He said, unzipping your pants and pulling his belt out.

"Spread your legs, slut." He commanded, and you obeyed immediately.

You spread your legs wider, giving him access to your pussy. You felt the cool leather of the belt against your skin as he ran it up and down your slit.

“This will be the first of many punishments for you, y/n.” He said, and you nodded your head in agreement. “And I hope that you enjoy them all.” He said, and you nodded your head again.

He slapped the belt against your ass, hard enough to make you cry out in pain. “Are you ready to be punished?” He asked, and you nodded your head yes.

He began to spank you, hard enough to make your ass sting and burn. Each slap brought a fresh wave of pain and humiliation.

After a few minutes, he stopped and stood up straight. “Stand up.” He ordered, and you complied immediately.

He pulled you over to the edge of his desk, where he bent you over and pulled your panties down to your ankles. Then he grabbed hold of your hips and pushed you forward until your knees were resting on the desk.

“Spread your legs apart for me.” He commanded, and you obeyed immediately.

He spread your legs wide apart, exposing your pussy to his view. “Look at this pretty little cunt.” He said, and you nodded your head in agreement. “Does it belong to me?” He asked, and you nodded your head yes.

“Good girl.” He said, and then he leaned forward and licked your pussy.

You moaned softly as he licked you, his tongue sliding over your clit and then down to your asshole. “Mmm, that’s a good girl.” He said, and you moaned again in response.

He continued to lick you, his tongue sliding over your clit. “I bet you wanted everyone in the fucking office to see this, with that fucking skirt on.” He said, and you moaned louder in response.

He continued to lick you, his tongue sliding over your clit faster and faster. “Fuck, I bet you’d love if they heard you right now..” He said, and you moaned louder still.

He leaned forward and kissed your pussy, his tongue sliding over your clit as he did. “You love being watched, don’t you?” He asked, and you moaned in agreement.

He leaned forward and sucked on your clit, his mouth moving up and down your pussy as he did. “Fuck, I bet you’d love it if they saw you taking my cock like a dirty little slut.” He said, and you moaned louder still.

Without much thought, Alhaitham pulled you close, spreading your legs further as his hard cock rested right below your slippery lips, just waiting to sink into you.

Without warning, Alhaitham plunged his cock deep into your pussy, causing you to gasp in surprise. “Fuck, that feels good.” He said, and you moaned in agreement.

He mindlessly rammed into you, feeling your clench around his cock while tears spilled out of your eyes, the thickness making you quiver.

“S-sorry, mmph, sir-! I won’t wear that skirt again, please, lemme cum!”

“Sluts don’t get what they ask for.”

whimsic4alwasab1 ™ - do not copy, translate, modify, or claim any of my work as your own.

#jo’s posts #genshin smut #alhaitham scenarios #alhaitham genshin #alhaitham smut #alhaitham #al haitam x reader #al haithem #al haitham #al haitham smut

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little-miss-dilf-lover · 16 hours

Note

HI SWEETIE I HAVE A REQUEST!! i hope you dont mind!

so, bucky and f!reader, maybe married and they have a baby together. after that time of recovery reader is a bit shy of her own body cause it's been a while since they did it and she isnt back at her pre-pregnancy weight and bucky is absolutely like mind blown by her beauty? like, nearly drooling? and please can you add body worship on this?

i seriously hope it's okay for you, but if it's not please ignore this!

HII BBY!! I love love love it. thank you for requesting, hope you like it💌

DEFLECTION.

bucky barnes x fem!reader (married & parents) — comfort

word count. 1034

disclaimer. the hair colour and type has no significance to the writing. the gif just suits the theme of this fic. also please read the ask carefully

Only a few short months ago, you gave birth to a healthy baby girl - a daughter you shared with your husband, Bucky. Very quickly she became the sole focus of your attention, neither of you having much time to do anything like you used to.

Consequently, your sex life had taken a hit, and not because of the significant decrease in quality time, but instead something far more complex.

So far, motherhood has been a slight struggle to adjust to - the differences in your life between then and now are almost stark. You've been trying to adapt to all the changes that come with it, the main being your new body. You've been feeling shy and insecure with your new shape, often feeling like the weight will never drop off to what you looked like before.

It was hard to digest the change.

You were in the bathroom to freshen up, your eyes looking back at you in the mirror almost pitifully - your gaze travelling down, honing in on your stomach through your once baggy tee.

"They're here," Bucky calls from the other room, his voice putting a hold on the thoughts in your mind.

You step out of the bathroom, meeting your husband and daughter by the front door, a pink baby bag slung over his shoulder.

He notices the downcast direction of your eyes, seeing the way you tried to pull away from his attention. "Everything okay?" he asks you, rocking his little girl in his arms, bouncing her when she makes a noise.

You hum, walking closer to say goodbye to your baby - running a finger over her soft cheek.

He doesn't believe you, though he waits for it to be just the two of you before he can question it. He doesn't want to create a situation before your parents arrive to pick up your daughter. They offered to have her for a few hours to give you both some respite.

The second the door closes, and it's just the two of you again, he turns to look at you - his brows curled up inquisitively.

"Now, what's really going on?" he asks, referring to all those times you shut yourself off from him - primarily that one a few minutes ago.

You turn away, heading to the kitchen to get a drink. "Going on with what?" you deflect, trying to avoid the topic.

He follows you, standing behind you at the sink - his arms wrapping around your middle, chin resting over your shoulder.

But he's too close to where you don't want him, so you flinch at his touch, moving his hands away from your tummy and stretching the hem of your top - pulling on the fabric.

Bucky rips his hands from you, your avoidance of his touch making things whirl in his mind. "You don't like that anymore?" he asks, stepping aside to face the side of you.

"I do... just— just not right now," you reply, taking a quick sip of water before moving across the kitchen - heading towards the fridge. "Tired, feel gross," you shrug, trying to ease the tension you accidentally created.

"That's not it," he softly shakes his head, eyes focused on you even though every glance goes unreciprocated. "It's something else."

"Just need a nap and shower," you partially lie, pulling out two apples, handing him one.

He doesn't accept your attempt at deflection, instead turning it down. "No, it's something else," he continues, his eyes glued to the side of your face. "And you're afraid of saying it."

"I'm not," you softly protest, voice quiet.

"So it is something else," he mutters, the unknown confession of you making things easier for him, harder for you.

You're cornered. You sigh and nod faintly, closing the door of the fridge.

"What is it? Please talk to me," he reaches for your hand, fingers wrapping themselves around yours. "It's just the two of us, no distractions... what's been going on?"

"It's hard to get used to," you start, pausing to think of what to say next.

"What is? Being a mom?" he asks, noticing your focused gaze on the baby stuff on the counter.

You nod, pausing once more. "Not just that," you exhale, shrugging. "Everything's changed."

"With us?" he asks, hand tightening in yours.

"With me," you correct, looking down at your hand in his. "I've changed, and I'm not used to it... I don't like it."

"How have you changed?" he questions, trying to prompt more answers from you.

"My body has," you softly reply, trying not to squirm at your confession. "My boobs, tummy, my hair. The weight is taking longer to come off than I thought, and I feel— I feel like a..." you go quiet, not wanting to finish your sentence.

However, Bucky's not done coaxing words from you. His face softens when you finally meet his gaze, his features inviting and knowing. "Feel like a what?" he whispers.

"I don't know," you shrug again.

"'You are not your thoughts'," he says, reciting those words you've said to him countless times after his nightmares. Though now he's repurposing them to someone else who needs them, you. "I repeat that saying in my head all the time. Do you know who taught me that?" he asks, his gaze honing in on you - trying to stop you from looking away.

"Me," you whisper.

"That's right," he nods, bringing his spare hand to cup your cheek. "You need to use that same kindness to yourself. And right now," he starts, pressing a kiss into your lips. "You have never looked more beautiful to me."

You softly frown, the rest of your features relaxing.

"Your body gave us a daughter," he smiles. "You made her. You'll get your old body back eventually, but the one you have now is perfect, too."

"Thank you," your voice cracks, the sweet words of your lover soothing all the doubts in your mind. You envelop him in an embrace, arms hugging around him in the ways you've recently longed for. "I mean it."

His arms wrap around you just as tight, one hand running up your spine. "So do I.”

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes comfort #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x fem!reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes oneshot #bucky x reader #bucky fanfic

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writingforstraykids · 3 days

Text

Always back to you - Chp.2

Pairing: Minho x m!Reader (mention of Chanlix)

Word Count: 7523

Summary: Minho and you grow closer over time as he watches you handling his beloved son with such ease. Minjun's innocent question, asking you to stay with them, changes the dynamics a little. One day, you're taking the trust Minho offers you regarding his son a little too freely, and it ends in a mess...

Warnings/Tags: fluff, single dad!min, angst, domestic shit, double "date" with chanlix, panic attack (brief description), argument (y/n and minho/ minho and chan), min collapses during practice

PART ONE | PART THREE

Two weeks later

You just left the local aquarium, and all of you felt like getting something to eat now. Minho had mentioned their planned visit to the aquarium a few days ago, and Chan and Felix had decided to tag along, inviting you as well.

It had been great fun seeing Minjun so fascinated with everything and answering all his questions. Chan and Felix fell back occasionally, taking some private moments as a couple for themselves as well, which left you a lot of time to talk to Minho.

Now, you’re back outside, standing in front of the aquarium. “You’re hungry, mate?” Chan asks, kneeling in front of Minjun.

“Yes,” he nods, wrapping his arms around Minho’s leg and cuddling into him.

“Then let’s go get some food, yeah?” Chan suggests with a warm smile, and Minjun nods.

Minjun glances around before gently tugging at Minho’s trousers. “Daddy?” he asks, and Minho hums in response. “Up?” he asks, seeming a little intimidated by all the people after the peace and quiet at the aquarium.

“Come here, dumpling,” he chuckles, picking him up. He tickles his side, pulling a sweet giggle from him, and kisses his cheek. “Let’s go eat, yeah?”

“Yes,” he nods, much more content up here now.

Felix looks up from his phone and taps Chan’s shoulder. “Babe? I found something,” he tells him, and Chan’s hand finds his as he leans over to glance at his phone.

“There’s a small restaurant not far from here that offers a lot for kids,” Chan tells them after humming agreeingly. “They even have a small playground in the back in case he gets bored and some coloring sheets.”

“Oh, guys, seriously, we can go wherever you want. He can still have some of mine if they don’t have kids' portions,” he assures them, and you notice his slight discomfort.

“I don’t mind, it looks good,” you agree with Chan.

“Minho hyung, relax; there’s plenty of stuff for all of us there. We don’t mind, honestly,” Felix assures him with his usual bright smile.

“Okay then,” Minho nods with a shy smile.

The theme restaurant is vibrant, decked out in bright colors, and adorned with characters from children’s shows. It was every kid’s dream, but as you sit down and look over the menu, Minho feels a familiar sense of dread begin to settle in. You excuse yourself for the bathroom and leave them for a moment.

“What would you like to eat, Minjun?” Minho asks, pointing to pictures of various kid-friendly options. “They have dinosaur-shaped chicken nuggets, or maybe you’d like some noodles?”

Minjun scrunches up his face and shakes his head fiercely. “No! I don’t want those!” he protests loudly, causing a few nearby customers to glance over.

Minho’s heart sinks; they are in his son’s favorite type of restaurant, yet the usual struggle is unfolding. “Come on, buddy, you love dinosaurs. These nuggets look fun,” he tries to keep his voice cheerful, but the frustration is hard to mask.

“I don’t want it! I want to go home!” Minjun’s voice starts to rise, edging towards a tantrum.

Minho shoots his friends an apologizing look and shakes his head gently. “Baby, we'll eat here as we said.”

“They have your favorite noodles, Jiho; look,” Felix tries to help, showing him on the menu.

“No!” Minjun swats his hand aside. Felix blinks in surprise but draws his hand back with an apologetic grin toward Minho.

“Minjun, hey,” Minho says more firmly than he intended. “I know you're upset, but we don't hit people. Say sorry to Lix, baby,” he lessens the firmness in his voice again.

“Sorry, uncle Lix,” Minjun says timidly, tears starting to form in his eyes.

“It's okay,” Lix assures him gently.

Minho takes Minjun's little hands into his and gently smiles. “Thank you, buddy. You still don't want to eat?” he asks.

Minjun shakes his head, avoiding his eyes. By the time you arrive, Minjun is on the verge of tears, and Minho is feeling the stares of other people, each look like a weight added to his shoulders.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” you ask gently, taking your seat next to Minho.

“He doesn’t want to eat anything,” Minho explains, rubbing his temples. Chan gently pats his back, trying to calm him a little.

You turn to Minjun, your expression thoughtful. “You know, I was really hoping you could help me with something,” you begin, speaking directly to Minjun. “I’m super hungry, and I can’t decide what to eat. Maybe you could choose something for me? What do you think is good here?”

Minjun, now distracted from his brewing fit, looks curiously at you. “Fries…or dino nuggies...” he mumbles, still upset but intrigued by the involvement in the decision-making.

“Great choice. But I heard this place has a secret dish that’s really, really cool,” you whisper conspiratorially. “It’s a magic pizza that makes everyone super happy when they eat it. Do you think we should try it?”

Minjun nods, a slight smile breaking through his frown. “Okay, we can try,” he agrees shyly.

You wink at Minho, who looks at you in astonishment as you get up. You talk a word in private to your waiter before the rest orders their things. While they wait for the food, you engage Minjun in a conversation about the aquarium you had visited earlier, effectively diverting his attention from the earlier situation.

When the food arrives, the pizza is presented by the waiter, who plays along with the 'magic' theme, sprinkling imaginary dust over it. “Enjoy your magic pizza, brave knight!” he exclaims, leaving Minjun giggling.

“See, it’s magic because it makes you smile,” You say, taking a small slice and offering it to Minjun. “You want to try some magic?”

Minjun hesitates for just a moment, glancing at his father.

“Go on, baby,” Minho encourages him.

Minjun nods before taking a tiny bite. His eyes widen in surprise. “It’s good!” he declares, a genuine smile spreading across his face.

Minho watches the scene, a mixture of relief and gratitude washing over him. He smiles at you, mouthing a silent "thank you." The rest of the meal goes smoothly, with Minjun even trying some salad from Felix's plate and some noodles from Chan's.

As they leave the restaurant, Minho feels lighter than he has in days. “You really have a way with him,” he says to you as you walk toward the park.

“It’s all about making it fun, turning it into a game,” you giggle. “Sometimes, kids just need a little distraction from their worries, even if it's about food.”

Minho nods, watching Minjun run ahead to the playground with Chan and Felix. “I guess I need to be a bit more creative with meals,” he admits.

“Or just call me when it’s time to eat,” you joke, and you both laugh.

The rest of the afternoon passes in a blur of laughter and play, with Minjun in high spirits, having forgotten all about the lunchtime drama. As Chan and Lix say their goodbyes, Minho feels not just the exhaustion from a day well spent but a profound appreciation for his friends.

“Thanks again, Y/nnie. Today could have gone a lot differently without you,” Minho says as you part ways with them.

“Anytime, Minho,” you reply with a warm smile.

“Let me drive you home? You're on our way after all,” he says, and you take his offer.

Minho gets Minjun settled in the back before driving off. “Y/nnie?” Minjun's little voice comes from the back.

“Yes, buddy?” you ask, turning to face him.

“Stay?” he asks, and you frown at him gently.

“Stay where Minjunnie?” you ask.

“With us?” he asks timidly.

Minho glances at his son through the mirror. He can see the need in his eyes and swallows hard. He knows how much his son sometimes longs for someone else besides him. He asked about his mother before seeing other kids at the playground.

You glance at Minho nervously, not quite knowing how to respond without hurting either of them. “You mean for dinner?” you ask, trying to find a way out.

“No…always,” he says softly, his big round eyes watching you timidly.

Minho stops at a red light and stares out of the window, avoiding your look. His grip around the steering wheel tightens as his thoughts start spiraling, once more feeling like he isn't enough for his son. He knows he isn't.

“Oh, love,” you say quietly and reach back for him. “It's okay, you know, we see each other sooo often, and I'm always at the company.”

“But I miss you,” he says softly, and you honestly don't know what to say about that.

“You want to stay for dinner?” Minho speaks up quietly, and you look back at him. He sees the hesitation written all over your face and swallows softly. “It would be fine,” he assures you quietly.

You nod slowly, considering Minho's quiet offer. "I can stay for dinner, Minjunnie," you tell him, smiling as his face lights up. Minho gives you a grateful look, the tension easing from his shoulders as he turns back to the road.

The rest of the drive is spent in a comfortable silence, broken only by Minjun's occasional chatter from the back seat, talking about his day at the aquarium and the 'magic' pizza he had enjoyed. You listen, amused by his excitement and the way his eyes sparkle when he recounts his adventures.

Arriving at their home, Minho helps Minjun out of the car and into the house, with you following close behind. The familiar warmth of their home greets you and you slip off your shoes at the door, following Minho into the kitchen.

"I can help with dinner," you offer as Minho begins pulling ingredients from the refrigerator.

"Thanks," Minho says, his voice soft. "I think I'm just going to make something simple I know he likes. Is some pasta okay with you?"

"Perfect," you reply, setting the table while Minho starts cooking. Minjun hovers between the two of you, occasionally helping by passing ingredients or stirring the sauce under Minho's watchful eye.

As the pasta cooks, you and Minho chat about work and plans for the upcoming week. The conversation is light, but there’s an undercurrent of something deeper, something unspoken lingering between the lines.

Dinner is ready in no time, and you all sit down to eat. Minjun chatters happily, clearly enjoying having both of his favorite two people together. The meal is delicious, and you compliment Minho on his cooking, which makes him smile with pride.

After dinner, Minho insists on cleaning up, so you take Minjun into the living room to play a game. As you build a tower of blocks, Minjun's earlier request echoes in your mind. You glance towards the kitchen, where Minho is quietly washing dishes, and your heart twitches with a mixture of affection and concern.

"You're really good at building things," you comment, watching Minjun place another block on the tower.

"Daddy says I'm good too," Minjun states proudly, his concentration evident as he places each block.

"Of course he does," you encourage him, your thoughts still on his request to have you stay. It wasn't just about tonight—it was about all the nights and all the days. He wanted you there, a permanent fixture in their lives.

When Minho returns, drying his hands on a towel, he finds you and Minjun laughing as your tower wobbles before toppling over. He can’t help but smile at the sight, feeling a warmth spread through him he hasn't felt in a while, not like this. He watches you, studying your features as he has so many times before, and something in him screams not to think you're beautiful. But you are. Lately, he can't help but notice it again and again.

"Ready for bed, buddy?" Minho asks after checking the time.

Minjun pouts but nods, knowing that bedtime is non-negotiable. You help Minho get him ready for bed, a routine that feels both familiar and strangely intimate. Minho reads Minjun a bedtime story, and you watch, feeling a part of this little family.

After Minjun falls asleep, you and Minho settle on the couch with cups of tea. The house is quiet; the only sound is the occasional distant car passing by.

"Minjun seems to be getting attached to you," Minho begins, breaking the silence. "More than just as Y/nnie from work.” You nod, unsure of what to say, feeling the weight of Minjun's request weighing on you both. "I've been thinking about it," Minho continues. "About what he said in the car. It's not just that he misses you, Y/nnie. I think... I think he's looking for that missing piece. A family."

You meet his eyes, seeing the vulnerability there. "Minho, I-"

"I know it's a lot," he cuts you off, his voice gentle. "And I'm not asking for anything, not really. I just... I want you to know that you're already part of our family. If you ever want that, for real, it's yours. But no pressure. I mean it."

The offer hangs in the air, profound and sincere. You take a deep breath, feeling the significance of his words settles around you. You’ve grown to love Minjun and Minho, too, in a way that is more than just friendly concern.

"Thank you, Minho," you finally say, your voice thick with emotion. "That means more than you know. I love being with you guys. It feels like home."

Minho reaches out, his hand covering yours hesitantly. "That's all I needed to hear," he says with a relieved smile. “You can stay with him as much as you want to. There's no one else I trust him with as much as you.”

“Thank you,” you tell him, your hand still feeling warm as he draws his own back again.

You stay a little longer, talking and planning for the coming weeks until the yawns get the better of both of you.

As you leave, Minho walks you to the cab he called, and the night air is cool and comforting. "Stay safe, Y/nnie," he says, leaning close to hug you. You hug him back, a little surprised. "See you tomorrow."

"See you," you reply, the warmth of his hug lingering as you drive away, the image of Minjun’s sleepy smile and Minho’s thankful eyes etched in your mind.

Tonight, Minho’s words feel true in your heart—you are part of their family. And as the city lights blur past, you realize how much you’re looking forward to what the future might hold. Yes, you're delusional enough to hope there could be something deeper than what you have now.

At first, you were still hesitant about staying with them so often, knowing how important it was for them to have some time to themselves. Over the following weeks, dinner with them grew into a part of your daily routine. You and Minjun spend a lot of time together in the kitchen, trying out new dishes, which makes eating a fun experience for the little one. This allows Minho to wrap up things at the company in peace, able to focus on himself for a little without having to worry about his little troublemaker. Minjun looks forward to cooking with you in the evening which makes saying goodbye to his father so much easier.

With all the cooking, you two start making extras for everyone. You know they have a fridge at the company where they store their personal stuff, so you and Minjun start filling it regularly. It delights them all, always finding a fresh meal for whatever time of the day or night if your name is Chan. It feels like you're not only part of Minho's private, small family but also his bigger family at work.

It’s been almost a month since Minho’s offer to be part of this family, and you didn’t regret it one bit. You all found your routine by now, and you had a spare key to their house, allowing you to get home earlier with Minjun. It means a lot to you that Minho trusts you when you tell him you’re taking his son home. Minho and you have grown closer, knowing how much it meant to both of them that Minho was sharing his home with you.

It’s getting harder with every passing day to ignore how much he means to you. How beautiful he is when he’s wrapped up in a blanket, hair messily falling into his face, a wide smile on his face as he’s fooling around with Minjun. How treasured the sound of his genuine laugh after a long day had gotten. How caring he is for both Minjun and now, to some extent you. How strong he is for his kid, making sure to excel both at work and at being a father when all he wants is to hide away sometimes.

Tonight, you and Minjun decided to make dumplings and surprise Minho with them for dinner. The kitchen is soon filled with the aroma of spices, the rhythmic sounds of chopping, and laughter. Minjun, your little bundle of energy, is sitting on a chair next to you, his eyes bright with excitement. You patiently show him how to prepare the filling, and Minjun watches, eager to learn.

“Okay, Minjunnie, you want to try mixing?” you ask, handing him a large spoon.

“Yes,” he nods quickly, taking the spoon with both hands. His attempts are messy but earnest, and you can’t help but laugh as a bit of the filling spills over the side of the bowl.

“Good job, buddy! Now, let’s make the dumplings,” you encourage him, showing him how to place a small amount of filling in the center of a wrapper. You demonstrate pinching the edges together, a technique that has taken you a while to master. Minjun tries to mimic you, his small fingers fumbling at first, but with each attempt, his technique improves. “You’re a natural!” you compliment him and get the sweetest smile in return. Once more, you realize how similar he looks to Minho when he smiles, cheeks grow squishy, eyes squint in joy, and the bunny teeth show.

Later, as the dumplings steam, Minjun's attention shifts to the window. "When is Daddy coming home?" he asked, his voice tinged with concern.

"Soon, I think. He might be very tired, though. He had a long dance practice today," you reply, checking the dumplings.

As if on cue, the door opens with a soft creak, and Minho steps in, his face showing signs of exhaustion. Minjun runs to him immediately, almost tripping over his feet, wrapping his little arms around Minho's legs.

"Daddy! You're home!" Minjun exclaims, looking up with a smile that falters as he notices Minho's tired expression.

"Hey, little chef," Minho says, his voice weary as he bends down to scoop Minjun into his arms. "Did you make all these dumplings?"

Minjun nods proudly, and then his face turns serious. "Daddy, are you okay? You look sad."

Minho manages a tired smile. "Just a bit tired from practice, baby. But I'll be okay. Smelling those dumplings definitely makes me feel better."

You watch them, your heart swelling with affection but also concern for Minho. Lately, the dance practices have been intense, often leaving him drained. "Let's eat! I bet your daddy's hungry," you suggest, ushering them to the dining table where the dumplings were now ready, steaming hot and inviting.

The meal is cheerful, with Minjun chatting about his day and the dumplings he helped make. Minho eats with evident pleasure, praising Minjun's efforts, which makes the boy glow with pride. However, you notice Minho grimacing slightly every time he moves his shoulder.

After dinner, while Minjun is occupied with his coloring books, you approach Minho. "You're really pushing yourself hard, aren't you?" you ask softly, concern coloring your tone.

Minho sighs, rubbing his shoulder. "Yeah, the new routine is tough. But it’s what I love to do."

You nod, your hands reaching out instinctively to his shoulder, your fingers pressing gently. "Maybe I can help a little," you offer.

Reluctantly, Minho agrees, and as your skilled hands work over his sore muscles, he feels the tension beginning to ease. The room is quiet besides Minjun's occasional hums as he colors and Minho’s low hisses whenever your fingers meet a tense spot.

"Thank you, Y/nnie," Minho murmurs, genuinely grateful.

"It's nothing," you reply, your hands steady.

As you settle into the evening, Minho watching Minjun draw and you tidying up the kitchen, you feel complete, having spent a day well. The night ends with Minjun falling asleep early, curled up on the couch with his favorite blanket in Minho’s lap. “I’ll better get going,” you say with a glance at the clock. “I’ll be late on set tomorrow; I have an important call about a possible photoshoot for you before…but I’ll make sure someone’s there to keep Minjun occupied until then.”

“Alright,” Minho nods thankfully. “Get home safe, yeah?”

“Always,” you promise and gently squeeze his shoulder as you leave.

The next morning dawns bright and early for you. After a quick breakfast and the call, you make your way to the set where Minho is filming the music video for the song with Chan. Today's plan includes picking up Minjun from Minho’s set and treating him to some ice cream—a little surprise to break the monotony of his dad's long shooting days.

Upon arrival, you notice the usual hustle and bustle of the set, but with an added layer of excitement given the complex scenes scheduled for the day. As you navigate through the crowd of crew members and equipment, you spot Minjun sitting near one of the monitors, his eyes wide with fascination as he watches his father perform.

"Y/nnie!" he exclaims, his face lighting up as he sees you approaching. He runs over, nearly tripping over a cable before you scoop him up into a hug.

"Hey, my little star! Watching Daddy work, huh?" you say, smiling as you set him down.

"Yeah, Daddy’s really cool!" Minjun responds, his enthusiasm infectious. You chat briefly about what he's been watching before steering the conversation towards the day’s special plan.

"So, how about we grab some ice cream after this? Just you and me," you suggest, watching his reaction closely.

Minjun’s face splits into a broad grin. "Ice cream! Yes, please! Can we get chocolate?" he asks, bouncing on the balls of his feet.

"Chocolate it is. Let’s go," you reply, your heart warmed by his excitement.

The ice cream shop isn't far, and the walk there is filled with Minjun's chatter about the various things he’s learned from watching his father on set. You listen, amused and impressed by his observations and memory.

Arriving at the shop, Minjun presses his nose against the glass display, his eyes scanning the array of flavors. "Two chocolates, please!" he declares when it’s your turn to order.

With the cones in your hands, you find a spot outside on a bench. Minjun eagerly attacks his ice cream, and the chocolate soon smudges his lips and cheeks. You can't help but laugh, pulling out a few napkins to clean him up.

"Y/nnie, do you like being with me and Daddy?" Minjun asks suddenly, his tone serious, as he looks up at you with those big eyes.

"I love it, Minjun. Being with you and your dad is the best part of my day," you answer honestly, touched by his question.

Minjun nods, seemingly satisfied with your response, and returns his attention to the rapidly melting ice cream. "Good. You're fun," he adds, his words muffled by a mouthful of chocolate.

As you sit there, watching Minjun enjoy his treat, you reflect on the changes in your life since joining their little family. Each day has brought its challenges and joys, but moments like these highlight the beautiful simplicity of your new life.

About half an hour later, you decide to make your way back, not knowing what mess your little surprise caused.

Minho brushes a strand of hair from his face, eyes flickering to Minjun’s prior spot, only to notice he isn’t there anymore. He frowns and quickly scans the room, a shiver running down his spine when he can’t find his son anywhere. “Chan hyung,” he asks, terrified, grabbing his friend's arm.

Chan turns toward him, frowning, confused. “Hey, what’s wrong? Are you okay?” he asks worriedly, seeing the fear in his eyes.

“Where’s Minjun?” he asks, and Chan glances around the room, not finding him either.

“Baby, where’s Jiho?” he asks Felix, who’s already looking. “Min, who was watching him?”

Minho inhales shakily, his hands trembling by now, and his stomach tightens in pain. “I…He was right there the whole time,” he says, pointing at the now-empty chair next to the cameras. “Hyung, he was right there and-.”

“Breathe,” Felix tries gently, wrapping his arm around him. “He’ll be okay, yeah?”

“You don’t know that,” he shakes his head, anxiously watching Chan, who’s talking to their staff and trying to figure out who had seen him last. “Fuck, I shouldn’t have stopped watching him,” he whispers, and Felix squeezes him gently. Chan quietly ushers their team from the set so it’s only them, and pulls out his phone. Minho braces himself on his knees and squeezes his eyes closed as a wave of nausea crashes over him. “I’m gonna throw up,” he whispers, and Felix soothingly rubs his back, reminding him to breathe. He exchanges a worried glance with his boyfriend, anxiously biting the nail of his thumb.

The door opens, and you step inside, accompanied by a brightly smiling Minjun, who’s carrying a small bag of waffles for all of them. You look up, startled, and notice how empty the room is now, as well as Minho’s anxious form. Is he having a panic attack? Minho looks up, and the moment his eyes meet yours, something in his anxious expression changes. The fear makes room for a sudden coldness you’re not used to, which quickly gets replaced by anger. “Where the fuck were you?” he asks dangerously low.

“Minho, what’s wrong?” you respond, confusion evident in your tone as you hold Minjun’s hand a little tighter.

Minho pushes himself to his feet. “You took him. Without telling anyone? That’s what’s wrong!” His voice rises with each word, the strain of the moment overtaking his usual composure.

You glance down at Minjun, whose smile fades as he senses the tension. “I…we just went for some ice cream,” you explain, your voice steady despite the rising anxiety. “Minjun wanted to surprise you with-”

“A surprise? By letting me think my son had gone missing?” Minho snaps back, his words sharp and biting. “You don’t just take him, Y/n! Not without telling me.”

Minjun’s eyes begin to water, and his lower lip trembles as he looks up at his father and then at you. “Daddy, I wanted to.” His voice is a whisper, drowned out by the escalating argument.

“Not now, Minjun,” Minho says, a bit too harshly, his focus still fixed on you. "What were you thinking, Y/n?" he snaps, his voice laced with accusation. "You know you're supposed to let me know before taking Minjun out!"

You swallow hard at the sharpness of his tone, your eyes wide with surprise and hurt. "I'm sorry, Minho," you reply, your voice trembling slightly. Fuck. "I didn't think it would be a big deal. We were only gone for half an hour."

But Minho was beyond reason, his frustration bubbling over. "It is a big deal!" he insists, his expression one of betrayal. “I trusted you. How could you just take him without telling me? What if something had happened? How would you explain that, huh?”

Your heart clenches at his words, the hurt evident. “Minho, I would never put Minjun in danger. You know that.”

“No, I don’t,” Minho says harshly, making you take a step back, your grip on Minjun’s trembling hand loosening. What?

“Let’s all just take a breath, okay? This is getting out of hand,” Felix suggests, looking between you and Minho with concern. “Minjun is safe. He was with Y/nnie, and they weren’t far.”

"Minho, calm down," Chan steps in, seeing the clear shock written all over your face, his voice firm. "He was just trying to help out. You're overreacting."

But Minho now turns his anger towards Chan, his frustration boiling over. "Stay out of this, Chan," he snaps at him, his tone cutting. "This is between me and Y/n. This is about my kid."

“Calm the fuck down right now, Min,” Chan says, his voice rising as well.

“Channie, baby, please,” Felix chimes in, fearing that his involvement would only make it worse.

You let go of Minjun’s hand, looking at Minho timidly. “I thought you trusted me with him. You left him at home with me all the time, Minho. How is that any different?”

“The fucking difference is I knew!” he yells at you at the top of his lungs.

Minjun flinches, the bag dropping to the floor. His face crumples, big tears spill down his face, and a loud cry ripples through him. Felix quickly scoops him up, walks a little away from the whole mess, and soothingly talks to him. It’s the first time Minjun has allowed Felix to comfort him when he’s upset, curling up in his arms.

You nod gently and shakily pull the keys to his house from your pocket. “That doesn’t give you an excuse to be such a fucking asshole,” you say, more calmy than you feel right now. “You just ruined his day; congratulations. Here, I won’t need them anymore,” you say, throwing the keys to his feet. “I’ll send you an email with your schedule for next week and make sure to find a proper replacement.”

“Y/nnie,” Minho breathes out, the reality of your words slowly settling in.

“Don’t Y/nnie me, not after this,” you shake your head and grab your jacket. “I’m sorry, Chan, I really liked working for you guys. You’re amazing,” you tell him before leaving, tears burning in your eyes painfully.

As soon as the door closes, Chan snaps at him. “What the fuck is wrong with you, Minho?!” he yells. “Are you insane? You just lost the one person who’s always been there for you. The one person your son felt comfortable around. You wouldn’t still be here without him; I hope you know that!”

“Fuck off!” Minho snaps back at him, feeling cornered.

“No, you fuck off! Minjun has no one to look after him when you’re busy except Y/nnie. Without Y/nnie, you wouldn’t even be part of the group anymore because you can’t fucking handle it on your own!” he says, and seeing Minho’s face fall, he knows he went too far.

“Chris!” Felix raises his voice at him, looking at him shocked.

“Well, thank you for finally being honest with me,” Minho says dryly, nodding to himself.

“Min, he didn’t mean it like that,” Felix tries gently as Minho makes his way over to them.

“Give me my son, please,” he says quietly. Minjun nearly screams as he eases him out of Felix’s hold. He flinches back, eyes filling with tears at the broken sound.

Felix worriedly glances down at the little boy clinging to him tightly. “Minjunnie, you’re gonna go home, okay?” he asks, growing anxious, at him shaking his head firmly. “Your daddy’s gonna take you home now,” he says, gently lifting him off his chest.

Minjun shakes his head, sobbing heavily, and holds onto his shirt tightly. “No, Daddy’s stupid!”

Minho carefully eases Felix’s shirt from his son’s hands and takes him into his arms. Minjun starts kicking, hitting his chest. Minho presses his lips together tightly, tears threatening to spill from his eyes. “I’m sorry,” he says quietly, holding onto him tightly so he won’t slip from his grip. Minjun wails in his arms, still fighting him as he carries him outside to the car. “I’m so sorry, buddy. Daddy’s an idiot,” he tells him shakily, the seatbelt slipping from his fingers repeatedly. “I’m sorry,” he whispers, finally managing to buckle him up. He closes the door to the car and tries to hold back the sob threatening to leave him.

“You forgot your stuff,” Chan says softly, suddenly next to him.

Minho quickly wipes his cheeks with his sleeve and takes the bag from him. “Thanks,” he mutters, not meeting his eyes.

“Min…I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that,” he says carefully. “You’re doing your best, and we all know it. That wasn’t fair,” he tells him.

Minho throws the bag onto the passenger’s seat and shakes his head, sniffling. “It’s fine. You were right. I suck at this, and I’d do you all a favor if I quit until he’s older.”

“Don’t say that,” Chan says gently, shaking his head. “We couldn’t do this without you.”

“I highly doubt that,” he says, voice breaking.

“Minnie,” he says quietly.

“Fuck, Channie hyung, I messed it all up,” he finally breaks down, hot tears spilling down his cheeks.

Chan pulls him into a tight hug, swallowing at how hard Minho is trembling in his arms. “What happened in there, hm? You’re usually not like this,” he asks carefully, and Minho shakes his head with a sob. Chan chews on his lower lip, realizing this could possibly go deeper than he thought, considering Minho’s insecurities regarding raising his kid right. The question hung in the air, heavier than the silence that followed. “Look, I know you’re doing this whole parenting thing on your own, and you’re doing an amazing job,” Chan continues, soothingly rubbing his back. “But you can’t let your fear make you forget who your allies are. Y/n loves Minjun almost as much as you do. He wouldn’t just take him without any consideration of the risks.”

Minho’s eyes met Chan’s, a mixture of anger and sorrow battling within. “I know. I just... When I didn’t see him, all I could think about was all the things that could go wrong. He’s everything I have, Channie. He's my baby, and no one can just take him without telling me.”

Chan nods, smiling at him sadly. “I know, mate, I know,” he assures him. “Let me drive you two home, okay? You shouldn’t be driving right now,” he says, and Minho nods weakly. “Come on,” he urges him gently. Minho slips into the passenger’s seat, wiping his cheeks with his sleeves messily. Chan notices Felix a few steps away, anxiously chewing on his lower lip. “You’re coming with us, baby? We can take a cab from there,” he tells him, and his boyfriend nods quickly.

“You really think he’ll quit?” Felix asks timidly.

“Min? No, he-” he says, but Felix shakes his head.

“No, Y/nnie,” he says, chewing on his lower lip anxiously. “That would be the worst thing for Minjun.”

“I don’t know, baby,” he shakes his head. “That depends on Min and Y/nnie. We can’t do much; they have to be okay…but Minho feels like shit for it,” he sighs and kisses his cheek. “It’ll be okay, baby.”

“Mhm, maybe,” Felix nods before slipping into the back to Minjun, who’s still crying softly.

“L-Lix,” he whimpers and reaches for him again.

“Hey, buddy,” he says gently, taking his hand. “It’s okay, yeah? We’re taking you home now, okay?”

“O-Okay,” he hiccups.

Minho remains quiet during the ride home, silent tears running down his cheeks as he’s biting his lower lip hard. Minjun cries quietly in the back as Felix tries to soothe him a little.

They reach their house not much later, and Felix carries Minjun inside. He exchanges a long look with Chan before moving Minjun to the room with all his toys.

Minho's face is a canvas of frustration, marked by the occasional wipe to remove the tears running down his cheeks. Chan gently guides him to the sofa and sits down with him.

"Minho, man, we need to talk about what happened," Chan begins, his voice firm yet gentle, trying to cut through the tension.

Minho nods, not meeting Chan's eyes, his gaze fixed on the floor. "I know, I know I messed up. It's just... when I couldn't see Minjun, everything went black. I panicked, Channie hyung."

Chan places a hand on Minho's shoulder, squeezing it reassuringly. "I get that, really, I do. The fear of losing Minjun is real and valid, but the way you handled it with Y/n wasn't fair. You trust Y/nnie, don't you?"

"I do, but at that moment, all that trust just... vanished. I just felt so out of control," Minho confesses, his voice cracking with emotion.

"It’s important to remember that Y/n cares about Minjun almost as much as you do. He wouldn't have taken him without considering his safety. But I think this goes deeper, Minho. This isn't just about today, is it?" Chan observes, trying to dig deeper into Minho's fears.

Minho sighs, a long, weary sound that seems to carry the weight of the world. "It's everything, Chan. The pressure of work, trying to be there for Minjun, getting closer to Y/n, and not knowing where the line is—it's all piling up. And today, I just... broke."

Chan nods, understanding more than Minho realizes. "You're not alone in this. You've got us, you've got Y/n…you need to fix this."

Minho wipes his face. "Maybe you're right. I need to handle this better, for Minjun and for myself."

"And you need to apologize to Y/n properly. He deserves that much, Minho. He's been here for you through thick and thin."

Minho knows Chan is right. The thought of facing you was daunting but necessary. He owes you an apology, one that acknowledges his overreaction and the hurt it caused.

Later that day, after taking some time to compose himself and gather his thoughts, Minho found Minjun playing quietly in his room. His little boy looks up, his face still showing signs of the day's stress.

"Hey, buddy... can we talk?" Minho sits beside him on the floor, his tone gentle. Minjun nods, his eyes curious and a bit cautious.

"I want to apologize, Minjun. Daddy got very scared today when I couldn’t find you, and I didn’t handle it well. I shouted, and that wasn’t right. I’m sorry for scaring you," Minho starts, his heart heavy.

Minjun moves closer, leaning into his dad. "Okay, Daddy… Y/nnie bought ice cream."

"I know, and it was a wonderful idea. I’m sorry for ruining it. And I’m sorry for how I spoke to Y/nnie. He didn’t deserve that. I’m going to apologize to him, too," Minho says.

"Do you still like Y/nnie, Daddy?" Minjun’s small voice is filled with worry.

"I do, very much. Y/nnie is important to us, right? I made a big mistake today, and I hope he can forgive me," Minho explains, hoping his son could understand.

Minjun hugs him tightly, "I forgive you, Daddy."

Minho chuckles softly, hugging his son back. "Thank you, baby."

Two weeks later

Life had once more settled into a stressful rhythm for Minho following the upheaval of his outburst and its emotional aftermath. Days morphed into weeks with Minjun by his side; each one layered with the joys and challenges of single parenthood, combined with his demanding schedule. Despite his deep love for his son, the strain of juggling his roles was evident.

Minho is preparing Minjun's backpack for the day, his movements automatic. The routine is well-practiced but no less draining. Minjun is playing on the carpet, glancing at his father suspiciously as he's preparing breakfast.

“Daddy, you okay?” Minjun’s small voice cuts through the morning stillness, his eyes wide with concern.

Minho pauses, taken aback by the question. “Of course, buddy,” he replies, forcing a smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes. “Why do you ask?”

“You're tired,” Minjun says simply.

Minho sighs, the weight of his exhaustion settling deeper on his shoulders. He is tired—more than tired. Each day felt like a battle, each night a too-short break from it all.

Later that day, after getting Minjun settled, the effects of chronic stress, sleep deprivation, and emotional turmoil begin to manifest more aggressively. As he moves through the complex choreography, his steps start to falter, his usually sharp movements grow sluggish, and his focus wanes.

“Minho, take five!” Chan calls out. “You’re off today, man. Everything alright?”

Minho nods mutely, too spent to formulate a response. He retreats to a quiet corner, his breath uneven, his heart racing uncomfortably in his chest. He presses the heels of his hands into his eyes, trying to stave off the dizziness that threatened to overwhelm him.

Just as he felt like he'd be fine, a sharp pain clutched at his chest, his breathing growing labored, and the room seemed to tilt on its axis. Panic claws at his mind as he staggers, trying to call out for help, but his voice is a mere whisper.

“Minho!” He hears someone shout and feels hands steadying him just before everything goes dark.

When Minho regains consciousness, he finds himself on a couch in the studio’s lounge, surrounded by concerned faces—Chan, Jeongin, and Felix, holding a distressed Minjun. An ambulance siren wails in the distance, growing louder as it approaches.

“What… what happened?” Minho manages to ask, his voice weak.

“You collapsed, man. Scared the hell out of us,” Chan replies, his expression tight with worry.

The paramedics arrive swiftly, assessing Minho quickly. Blood pressure high, heart rate erratic, they murmur words like "exhaustion" and "stress" as they prepare him for transport to the hospital.

The hospital tests confirm what Minho had tried to ignore: he was suffering from severe exhaustion combined with stress. The doctor’s advice was obvious. "You need to rest, Mr. Lee. Your body is telling you it can’t keep up this pace. If you ignore this warning, the next incident could be more severe."

Minho lies back on the hospital bed, the sterile white of the room a stark contrast to the vibrancy of his daily life. The words hit hard, a sobering reminder of his mortality and the stark reality of his responsibilities as a father.

Chan, who had accompanied him, squeezes his shoulder. “You gotta take care of yourself, Minho. For Minjun’s sake, if not your own.”

“I know,” Minho murmurs, the gravity of his situation settling in. “I just… thought I could handle it all.”

Chan’s look is sympathetic but firm. “No one can handle everything alone, Min. You need to let others help. Maybe it’s time to reach out to Y/nnie again. For support.”

The suggestion lingers in the air between them, heavy with implications. Minho’s thoughts drift to you, your warmth, your laughter, and the comfort you brought to both him and Minjun. The thought of reaching out, of potentially being rejected, is terrifying, yet the fear of what might happen if he continued on his current path is greater.

Anxiously, Minho makes the decision to call you from the hospital, his heart pounding as he dials the familiar number. The phone rings, each tone echoing like a drumbeat in his tense silence.

“Hello?” you ask, cautious yet warm.

“Y/nnie, it’s Minho. I… I need to talk to you. It’s important.” His voice is unsteady, and his admission of need is a significant release of his tightly held pride. “I…I need help.”

There’s a pause, a breath held, and then released. “I'm listening.”

Minho's voice wavers as he speaks, the hospital's fluorescent lights casting stark shadows across his face. "I... I had an incident today at rehearsals. I collapsed," he confesses, the words tasting like defeat but necessary in their truth.

You suck in a sharp breath at his words. "Minho, are you okay? Where are you now?" you ask, your voice thick with worry.

"I'm at the hospital. They're telling me it’s stress and exhaustion. Nothing life-threatening, but...can you look after Minjun for a few days?” he asks, chewing on his lower lip as you're silent for a while.

“So you're suddenly trusting me again?” you ask dryly.

Minho takes a moment to answer. “Minjun does…that tells me everything I should need to know,” he says quietly. “I've been an asshole, okay? I know I was. Once I'm better…can we talk? Really talk?” he asks timidly.

You sigh softly, rubbing your face. “Where is he?”

“He's with Lix,” he tells you, heart racing in his chest as you didn't answer his question.

"Get some rest, Minho. We'll sort everything else out later," you reply, your voice a soothing balm to Minho’s frayed nerves. Shit, he missed you.

“Thank you,” he says, tears burning in his eyes.

“Just…take care, okay? Your little boy needs you,” you say quietly.

“I will.”

PART ONE | PART THREE

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