#look. words have vibes. they enter the room and i know what's going on even if i don't know where they came from

[hannieehaee]

18+ / mdi

content: loser!jungkook, sub!jungkook, softdom!reader, oral (m receiving), etc.

part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4

wc: 1632

a/n: i havent read the previous three parts in months so if theres any discrepancies pls forgive</3

masterlist

in the time you'd known jungkook, you'd never actually been to his apartment.

he was at university on a scholarship, meaning that he didn't have to worry about paying for schooling or dorming. any money he earned from tutoring or any allowance received by his parents was all his to keep, meaning that his current residence was nicer than that of the average student.

despite being aware of all of this, you were still quite shocked the first time he brought you around.

unlike what you'd expected, jungkook's spacious studio apartment was not filled with nerdy figurines and stacks of comic books (god, that would've been adorable). instead, it replicated the appearance of the average bachelor pad. the furniture appeared of good quality, the bed was comfy, the decor clean, and even the cleanliness gave you a vibe of maturity and put-togetherness that you hadn't quite gotten from jungkook yet. at least not to this extent.

the most shocking thing, though? that was jungkook himself; his look and demeanor while lounging around his apartment.

he'd been growing his hair recently, something which you adored, though tonight had been the first time you'd ever seen him with it without the proper care you assumed went to it every morning. the messy curls laid at the sides, fluffy after a whole day of being worn and played with by the wind. accompanied by that, he donned some loose sweats and a simple tank top, two garments you'd never once seen on the boy. he tended to go for less casual outfits while in public, usually wearing buttoned up flannels or graphic tees.

unfortunately for you, his slight change in look had an instant effect on you. had anyone else seen him like this, you were sure they'd pursue him immediately. as of late, more and more girls were taking notice of him. since meeting you, his confidence had gone up and his way of presenting himself had evolved quite a bit. just a few more months and you were sure he'd become a heartthrob by all definition of the word.

"god, you're gorgeous," you practically whimpered as soon as he let you in, having taken a few moments to simply stare at him before pecking his lips as a greeting.

"oh, i- thanks. you're prettier," he mumbled back as he welcomed you in, "sorry it's a little messy."

he must've been kidding. the place was insanely tidy! you expected as much from jungkook, but it was still surprising to find a college-aged boy with cleanliness.

"it's perfect, baby. show me to your room?", you went straight into business.

with a sheepish smile, he led you to his room.

you had previously agreed that you'd be spending the night tonight. it was your first sleepover at his place, which had you both giddy at the thought. there was no special reason for it other than your sudden insistence for it about a week ago, claiming you wanted to see where a one jeon jungkook spent his nights away from you.

he was shy about it at first, as per usual, but agreed after a few smiles and kisses from you.

and so now you had the privilege of laying on his bed on a saturday night, clad in a pair of his boxers and an oversized shirt of his as you waited for him to do his skincare.

you had insisted on not packing an overnight bag, knowing jungkook would have anything you needed at his place — he was very well put together, after all.

smiling at him as soon as he entered the room, you extended your arms to motion him over to the bed, causing him to chuckle shyly as he stepped towards you. once he was at a close enough distance, you grabbed at his arms, pulling him to the bed and somehow managing to get him to lay down, climbing on him immediately after.

"hey, there, gorgeous," you flirted, hands on his shoulders and full weight sitting on his crotch area. it wouldn't take long until you found a tent under you.

"you don't have to try and fluster me every time you see me anymore, you know ..." he mumbled as he lost any ounce of control under you.

"where's the fun in that?", you smirked as your hands traced their way under his shirt, pulling it off him without a second thought, "god, how'd you get even more handsome?", you groaned as you took him in, so pretty below you with his long hair and his breathless state.

"i- i just- oh-,"

you gave him no chance to speak, choosing instead to quickly throw off your his own shirt and lower your lips down to his. the kiss was immediately heated. you could never really help yourself around jungkook, but fortunately, he liked that about you.

he'd gotten a bit less shy with time. his hands were more willing to explore your body nowadays, currently finding themselves on your waist as he pulled you closer to him.

you adored how much more comfortable he'd gotten around you, both sexually and not so. at times, he'd even initiate sex with you. these instances were a bit awkward for him, but you always liked to encourage him, letting him know through your enthusiasm how much you enjoyed it when he went after what he wanted.

however, you still had to keep him on his toes somehow.

like now.

"no touching, baby," you murmured between kisses, grabbing onto his hands and pinning them above his head as you leaned down onto him.

with a simple gulp, he nodded, lips shyly smooching so you'd kiss him again.

continuing your kiss, your hands went down to his torso, sneaking under the fabric and beginning to play with the skin there. your fingers traced the ridges of his abs, adoring how he shuddered against you but made no complaint. the silent effect of your actions only lasted up until your hands made their way north, eventually finding his nipples and tracing them teasingly.

the poor boy under you whimpered against your lips. his arms made some movement, but did not stray away from where you'd left them above his head, still pressed together as he attempted to follow your directions and not touch you.

your next move was to rid him of his clothes altogether, requiring to get off him for a few moments but immediately taking your rightful place straddling him on his bed once more.

"prettiest thing i've ever seen," you hummed as you looked down at him, leaning down to press kisses on every inch available.

"please ..." he mumbled when your lips first made contact with his chest, knowing their next destination.

ignoring him, you continued as before, letting your lips find their way to his nipple and twirling your tongue around it in a teasing manner. your barely there touch had him whining at the contact, wanting more from you.

you took pity on him, deciding to go all the way and suckling on the bud just how you knew he liked. except the poor boy could barely handle the pleasurable pain that came from it. he writhed under you as you alternated between pecs, filling his chest with love bites that'd flourish by the next morning.

the kisses made their way down his body, landing at his happy trail by the time you lowered yourself to your knees at the end of the bed. with a bite to your lip, you enjoyed the view of what was to be in your mouth in mere moments.

jungkook sat up, wanting to see what threat of pleasure approached him next. he groaned upon seeing how hungry you looked eyeing his hardness, but he remained a good boy by keeping his hands to his sides rather than reaching for you.

"a-ah, fuck," he groaned as soon as your lips made contact with his member, lightly closing in on his tip and suckling at it in a way that had his breath catching and eyes rolling back.

keeping your eyes on the trembling boy, you caught glimpse of his hands fisting harshly at the sheets, holding himself back from wrapping around your hair as he usually did. the thought made you smile around him. he was so so sweet and well mannered.

deciding to be just as nice, you engulfed as much of him as you could, practically deepthroating him. his reaction was immediate, whining and writhing above you while you had your fun with his cock.

"p-please, oh fuck, please," he pleaded for nothing in particular.

you weren't one to ever deny him of anything. every one of your actions was meant to aid him in his pleasure.

humming against him, you slobbered all over him, not minding the mess of your saliva and his cum slowly dripping down onto your chin as long as the pretty boy above you was losing himself because of you.

as per usual, his orgasm hit him pretty quick. as shy as he was, he was never too timid to let himself cum when he hit his limit. jungkook was one to appreciate the pretty girl giving him pleasure by demonstrating his immense appreciation.

it always got to you how loud he became while cumming, which was currently causing a mess in your panties. you decided to enjoy every drop of his orgasm before paying mind to that, though.

finally done torturing him by licking off any remnants off his dick, you climbed up his body and sat yourself on his lap with a smile, leaning in for a teasing tongue-filled kiss before humming in satisfaction against his breathless lips.

"did i tell you i love how you're growing out your hair?"

he gulped.

"you've, uh, you've mentioned."

[yuyuwritesss]

Someone older

Pairing: John Price x younger!reader

Summary: you get mad at Price for being too nice to you.

A/N: Slight angst, 10 things I hate about you vibes and John acts mean for like 2 seconds (but is overall a sweetheart), 2.290 words.

"—"—"—"—"—"—"—"—"—"—"—"—"—"—"—"—"—"—"—"

The giant hand, patting then ruffling your hair, moving to cup your cheek before quickly being withdrawn, always left you in a sea of helpless longing and guilty consciousness. You know it came from a place of father-like pride and approval. But this recurring gesture, not at all dissimilar to his pats on the boys' backs, without a doubt altered to fit your, in his eyes, gentler disposition, doesn't fail to send your idle mind rampant.

Coupled with his softening voice when addressing you as if you were made of glass any loud sound could shatter, a gentle smile painting his face whenever you join the conversation while the whole team is out after a mission. Intense eyes not leaving yours whenever they meet, pushing you to look away lest you get lost in them.

Your naive, eager brain couldn't help but disfigure and reshape the intention behind his attention to its liking, desperately trying to get you to make a move. To feed it after a long fast, cut at intervals during which its only sustenance came from the crumbs dropped by your captain.

This lack of control, mindless yearning, pissed you off to no end. You were supposed to be a soldier for God's sake. But the build-up of moments where you felt your heart almost beat out of your chest at the slightest attention from Captain Price put your mental state on wobbly ground, and you weren't sure how much time you had before it seeped into your work.

This prompted a fit of rage and self-loathing out of you that translated into your being curt and bitter to those around you as a last resort act of self-defiance, to forcibly gain the upper hand on your feelings.

Which didn't go unnoticed by your dear captain, calling you into his office one Friday morning. As you entered you were met with the very smile that brought this on you. The soft crinkles around his deep blue eyes. The dimples hidden behind the thick forest of facial hair. The exposed, strong forearms extending to big hands, one of them wrapped around a fountain pen while the other rested by the top of whatever papers he was signing.

"Morning love. Did you sleep well?"

Humming, you look at the side of the room to avoid looking at him, the way the soft rays of light paint the wall and dark red couch he occasionally sleeps on when he's tired. You know that because you've walked in on him napping on it too many times to count although he always insists he's just resting his eyes.

You're forced to look at him again when you hear the scratch of his chair on the floor, his big body stands to stretch, offering you a front row view of his stomach as his shirt rises and his eyes softly close. Then, having stretched to his heart's content, he starts moving towards you until he's standing less than a foot away, a soft smile on his face and his deep blues looking down to search your expression. The smile barely showing through his mutton chops soured your mood even more than it already was and made you absent-mindedly scowl at it, too transfixed by it to notice his hand slowly rising up, his thumb softly touching your cheek.

Your eyes automatically shut at the feeling of the rough finger pad on your skin, brushing it and igniting a warmth in your chest that you've grown familiar with in your captain's presence.

"What's going on with you, dove?"

Your eyes opened to a slightly worried, inquisitive look on his face.

"What do you mean?" you mumbled, stepping back to no longer suffer at his touch and gain back your wits about you.

He looks at you, almost in disapproval, eyebrows drawn together. "I mean the way you've been acting lately," his tone gets more assertive and you try not to let it show how nervous it's making you. Being at the receiving end of his displeasure is a foreign experience for you, used to being in his good graces without much effort, his soft tone and even softer touches being common occurrences.

"And how have I been acting?" you say, holding your ground, your anger and frustration acting as crutches, holding you up and crushing down any sign of weakness or nervousness.

He gets closer from where he was first stood, enough that you can feel his breath on your face, looking at you as if you were some rebellious teenager he was forced to deal with.

"So that's how you wanna go about this, hm? Alright, you're dismissed, soldier." He says, staring into your soul before turning and walking back to his desk.

You thought him talking to you like this would make you feel better, might create some much-needed distance between the two of you where you can finally get your feelings back in order, but you were so incredibly mistaken. You hated how he made you feel when he was nice and soft to you, but this felt infinitely worse. His sharp tone, his back to you shutting you out of his world. The one you wanted so badly to be a prominent part of but couldn't even allow yourself to dream of coming close to. You were a big girl, but you weren't immune to getting your feelings hurt, no matter how hard you wished for the opposite to be true.

He was once again settled into his chair, fountain pen between his fingers, haven't looked at you again but sensed your lack of movement and looking up he said, "I said you're dismissed, sold-" only to lay his eyes on you, the most upset he has ever seen you, still by his door. He didn't think you would react that way to what he thought would be a harmless ploy to get you to come around later, but seeing you like that tugged at his heartstrings. "Love-" that seemed to jolt you out of whatever trance you were in and sending you forward toward his desk, unshed tears clouding your vision.

"I hate it when you call me that," you barked out.

He was shocked, he didn't understand what prompted this fit but opted to calm you down as best as he could.

"I didn't know, let's talk ab-" "I hate it when you touch me when you pat my head and look at me like I'm the only girl in the entire world."

You felt terrible, especially with the way he was looking at you with heartbreak in his eyes, but at the same time, you were glad he was finally feeling what you felt every single day but had to lock up, so you kept going.

"I hate when you say my name and when you stand so close to me and when you treat me like I'm something special," you say, setting your hands on the desk and coming closer.

"But above all, I hate how none of this is true and that the only thing I truly hate is how you make me feel, so helplessly in love with a man who couldn't possibly love me back, not in a million years," you say softly, your tears finally falling and collapsing on astutely ordered files, in contradiction with your feelings at the moment.

You wipe at them harshly with both hands as if making them disappear equates to making this whole situation go away. You don't even hear him stand up and make his way to you until two hands grip your wrists, inhibiting them from any more abuse on your eyes and cheeks, and pull you into his encompassing chest. "Shhh darl', I've got you," your hard breathing into his neck allows you to get more than enough whiffs of his soothing scent, causing your hiccups to become few and far in-between and your hyperventilating to slow down.

As you calm down, you expect him to step back, letting you go now that he's done, decent man that he is, what he had to do. But you're surprised to feel him sit down on the chair, simultaneously pulling you into his lap.

Your face feels exposed and your hands self-consciously find your face, hiding it from him only to have your two wrists bound by a single one of his hands—the other one circling your back and waist—and pulled back to reveal you to him.

You finally build up enough courage to look him in the eye to find his blue eyes looking at you with such gentleness and pure compassion it nearly melts your heart.

"What makes you think I don't love you back?" Your eyes widen and your mouth can't seem to form a coherent sentence which ultimately becomes useless as lips come crashing down into yours, they kiss and kiss until you can no longer breathe, only pulling away when you nearly go limp in his arms. As you recompose yourself, you feel as though reality split and launched you into an alternate universe out of pity.

The only thing that could come out of your mouth is a wobbly "Why?", as his smile begins to widen. "Why do you think?" A nod to your earlier behavior, one you would've found humorous under different circumstances but the ones you were presently under regressed your brain to a version incapable of understanding irony.

"I need to understand," you said, an earnest albeit confused expression painting your face.

"What's there not to love about you, dove?" He said softly brushing your cheek with the back of his hand, "I fell for you the moment I laid eyes on you and every moment spent with you seemed to justify that, I tried to be discreet but you seemed to catch on, smart girl that you are."

You were on the verge of passing out from how overjoyed and delirious you felt. "Why didn't you say anything?" you said, reaching out to cup his jaw and moving to tangle your fingers in his hair.

"I didn't want to steal your youth away from you, thought you deserved someone your own age."

You immediately kiss him with all the pent-up anger this misunderstanding had culminated in you and pull back to see his lips a titillating shade of red. "I couldn't give less of a shit about that, you're all I need." You felt his hand squeeze your waist as you rested your forehead against his.

"How about dinner tonight, love?"

A hundred sunbeams couldn't match your smile at hearing those words, nodding as you curled further into his warm chest, happy with the knowledge that you were now allowed to touch him as much as you liked.

[azzo0]

Katsuki misses when his daughter was younger, and he could fix her boo-boos with a bandage and a kiss. He could carry her in his arms, clean the scrapes she received while playing at the playground, smack on a cute Hello Kitty bandage, kiss it and get her to giggle. But now that she was older, she did not have scratches and scrapes to worry about. Her boo-boos came in other forms- Boys and heartbreaks, to be specific. 

He'd just come home from work to find his daughter cuddled into you, the teenager bawling her eyes out because some stupid guy she was seeing dumped her for no apparent reason. His heart shattered, watching her wipe her eyes with hiccups leaving her chest. He didn't enter the room. He just stood there, and his daughter caught his eye, quickly looking away and burying her head in her mother's hair. 

You shot him a pointed look, reminding him not to say something that would make her cry even more. Bakugo's fists clenched on his sides, crimson eyes bubbling with anger. His daughter peeked at him, wondering if he was mad at her. Her heart sank when he turned around and left. 

"Now Papa's mad at me too," She sniffled. 

"No, he's not," You stroke her hair, trying to calm her down. "Just give him some time, alright?"

"Mhm..." She lets you comfort her some more before you leave. 

She buried herself under the blanket and scrolled through her socials, blocking that dumb ex of hers from everywhere. Maybe Papa did know best after all. Maybe she should've listened when her father said the guy didn't give him good vibes. She sighed and pushed the phone under her pillow, trying to go to sleep to escape all the tears.

Just as she started to drift off, she heard the door open a creak and poked her head out of the blanket to see her father standing in the doorway with a plastic bag in hand, still in full hero gear.

"Can I come inside?" He asked. She sat up and wrapped the blanket around her shoulders, nodding. 

Katsuki shuffled to her bed and cleared his throat, taking out all his daughter's favourite snacks from the plastic bag, "Erm- thought you'd like some... saw your favourite chocolate, so I bought that too. There's some of that crappy ramen you like. It's shit, but I'll allow it for now."

His daughter can't help but smile at him. So that's why he left without a word. To get her snacks and try to cheer her up. Or so she thinks, "Thank you, papa."

"'S nothin'" He stared at her awkwardly, not sure what to do next. He knew just snacks wouldn't fix a broken heart. He opened his arms for her, and she shifted closer to him, resting her head on his shoulder. Bakugo can't remember the last time he held her like this. It's been a while. This reminded him that no matter how old she was, he'd always be able to hold her like his little girl. He kissed her forehead and wiped tears from her eyes. 

"Don't waste yer tears, squirt," He said, "That asshole ain't worth yer pretty tears. Now open the snacks. I wanna try some."

Bakugo grins when she breaks into a goofy smile and opens a packet of spicy chips. He doesn't really eat this stuff, especially before dinner, but he'll make an exception for his little girl. He takes a chip and pops it into his mouth, glad she is smiling now. He held back a smirk when he thought of how she'd be rolling on the floor laughing when she saw her ex come to school with a bandage on his nose and a bruise on his cheek. 

Sure, he did not know how to fix her boo-boos anymore, but he sure did know how to beat the shit out of people who gave her the boo-boos. Even if it was a teenage boy far younger than him.

[steddiealltheway]

"Steve! You've got to help me. I panicked, and I told my Tinder date that you and Eddie have been dating for two years!" Robin yells as she storms into their living room. 

Luckily, Steve's gotten used to her entering their apartment in such a way over the past few years, but he barely registers what she says in her haste. He takes a moment to stare at her with his eyebrows drawn together in confusion, hoping the words will eventually make sense. 

They don’t. 

"What?" 

Robin paces back and forth while gesturing wildly with her hands. "You know how I do the thing where I ramble around girls I find really really hot? Well, I was doing that, and I brought you up and kept going on about how annoying my roommate is-" 

"Are you kidding m-" 

Robin continues as if she didn't just insult him. "And she kind of stopped and look at me and said, 'Your roommate is a guy?' And I got confused and said yes because why would I lie? And she got all uncomfortable and started asking more questions like if you were gay or straight, and I told her you were bi, and she got even weirder! So, eventually I just straight up asked her what was wrong, and she said that she didn't want to go out with me if my roommate was potentially into me. So I told her that wasn't a problem because you've been dating Eddie for two years." She finishes with that awkward lip bite she does which can be oddly endearing sometimes. But it’s not this time. 

Steve leans forward on the couch. "I'm sorry. You still want to go out with a girl who has no trust in my ability to keep things in my pants? As if she doesn't trust that you're a lesbian and if I ever made a move on you, you would absolutely punch me in the throat." 

Robin sits next to him and grabs his hands. "She's so so hot, Steve. Please." 

Steve rolls his eyes. "Fine, you can keep telling her that I’m dating Eddie, I guess." 

Robin breaks eye contact and starts picking at her nail polish. 

Well, that’s not a great sign. "What aren't you telling me?" 

Robin slowly looks at him in the way a dog looks at their owner after destroying their favorite shoes. "Okay, so then I really got a bit crazy, and when she asked me to show me pictures of you two together, I dropped my phone in my glass of water." She slowly pulls out her phone, and sure enough, it won't even turn on. 

Steve digs the heels of his hands into his eyes before grabbing her phone and stalking off to the kitchen to find rice and a bowl. Robin follows after him. 

"So, all I need to do is take a few pictures of you guys looking really coupley on dates and whatnot and make it look like they range over the past two years. I also told Veronica that I would let her meet you two sometime soon,” She rushes in to add the second thing before Steve can really process the first one. She just smiles, trying to look all sweet and endearing.  

Steve gives Robin the best bitchy glare he has, but she shoots him one back and counters by saying, "You owe me, and you know it." 

"For what?" Steve asks as he pours rice over her phone. 

Robin crosses her arms. "Three weeks ago, you kicked me out of the apartment without warning to have sex with some random girl, and I was left stranded for the night." 

Steve scoffs, "You went to Nancy's and slept in her very nice guest bedroom!" 

"You owe me!" 

Steve puts the bag of rice down and sighs. "Fine, but if Eddie doesn't agree, then I'm out." 

Robin smiles. "Deal." 

Steve hates how confident she is about the whole thing, so he calls Eddie and puts him on speaker. When he answers, Steve immediately says, "Hey, Eddie, you're on speaker with me and Robin, and she has a very ridiculous request for you. I'll let her tell you the details." 

After Robin recounts her night and Steve tries not to rant about how much of a bad vibe he gets from the girl, Eddie pauses for a bit to take it all in. Then, he says, "Robin, I really don't like this Veronica girl." 

"She's hot!" Robin retorts. 

Eddie snorts on the other line. "I'm in if Steve's in." 

Steve's jaw drops. Robin shoots him a big smile. "Perfect! What if we started on pictures early tomorrow? I've got a lot of random dates to prepare you guys for." 

Steve interrupts before Eddie can answer. "And why can't you show her like... three pictures of us cuddling on the couch?" 

"We need to cover our tracks as much as we can and cuddling on the couch a few times won’t do. Oh, we should hang a few pictures of you two around the apartment!" Robin plots excitedly. 

Steve runs a hand through his hair and shakes his head. He can't believe he's doing this. They don’t even have pictures hanging up. 

"Tomorrow works for me," Eddie says, entirely oblivious to Steve’s internal struggle. 

But Steve can't help but get a little excited at the thought of seeing Eddie and spending a whole day with him. 

So, he sucks it up and says, "I'm free, too. And I'm excited to see you, Eddie. I've missed you." 

"I saw you yesterday," Eddie laughs on the other line. 

Steve blushes and argues, "Seeing you for a minute when I get my coffee doesn't count." 

"Whatever you say, pumpkin bread." 

Pumpkin bread? Steve scrunches up his nose in protest. “That’s one of the worst things I’ve ever heard.” 

"Just practicing for when we meet this Veronica girl, my peach." 

Steve can’t help but laugh. "We are not that kind of couple. But I'll see you tomorrow. Have a good night. Sweet dreams, rubber ducky." 

Eddie laughs loudly on the other line and muffles the sound probably with his hand. 

Steve bites his lip, trying not to get too pleased at causing that reaction. 

"Good night, sweetheart." The line beeps three times as the call ends, and Steve can't help the smile that grows on his face. Sweetheart... he kind of likes that one. 

"Glad to see you two get into your roles," Robin says with a smirk. 

Steve jumps back, having forgotten she was there. "I'm going to bed. Goodnight.” With that, he quickly rushes off to his room before Robin can say anything else about the interaction. 

"Goodnight, dingus!" she calls after him joyously. 

This all better be worth it.

-:-:-:-:-:-

The next morning, Steve can't help but get a little nervous when Eddie sends him an "Almost there!" text. He has a feeling this whole thing is going to blow up in their faces or something. 

He's always known that Eddie's been cute. Hell, the first time he saw him, Steve thought he was hot. But he had never thought of them together after that. Sure, there was definitely a certain chemistry between them, but for some reason, Steve always saw him as off-limits. Especially since Dustin would kill him if he ever broke Eddie's heart. 

So, Steve learned to push down any feelings he's had for him over the years. And he's afraid that all those repressed feelings are going to come up today.  

There's a knock on his and Robin's apartment door, and Steve freezes. Hopefully his and Eddie’s friendship will survive whatever happens next.  

Here goes nothing.  

He opens the door to find a curly head of hair in front of him that isn't Eddie's. 

"Nancy?" 

"Hi! I'm here to take pictures today," she explains as she walks through the door, wiggling her Canon camera in her hand. "I thought Robin told you." 

"She certainly did not," Steve says and pinches his nose. He might kill her. He pushes the door shut, but it stops. 

"Hey," Eddie says peaking his head out from behind the door and catching Steve’s eye quickly. "Sorry, I'm late," he apologizes as he pulls Steve into a tight hug. 

Steve lingers in it, squeezing Eddie tightly, smelling the lavender shampoo he uses, and trying to make the moment last as long as he can. 

The sound of a camera shutter snaps him out of the moment. 

He pulls back and looks at Nancy. 

"Taking some candid pictures," she says unapologetically. 

But Steve doesn't care too much when he feels Eddie's hand linger on his back. "You're taking pictures for us? What happened to Robin?" 

"Yes, what did happen to Robin?" Steve asks raising his voice so she'll hear him. 

"Coming!" she yells then comes out of her room looking very strangely put together. Steve glances down at her wrist and notices her wearing her lucky black bracelet. When did she start wearing that again? 

"You look nice," Nancy says with a soft smile. 

"Thanks," Robin replies with a soft blush. 

Steve is definitely missing something, but he can't pay attention when Eddie is gently rubbing his back. He's going to end up dying on the spot. 

"Eddie!" Robin says, finally noticing him, "I see you brought the extra clothes." 

Steve glances down to where Eddie's suitcase sits on the floor. He does not remember him bringing that in. Shit, he's so distracted by his presence. Wait. "Why did you bring extra clothes?" he asks Eddie then notices how close they're standing. Oh, hello, Eddie's very soft-looking lips. 

"I told you we're covering two years. That means different seasons," Robin says as if the answer is obvious. 

Hell no. "There's no way in hell I'm wearing cold clothes outside in the heat." 

"Good thing I planned for us to stay in for those pictures," Nancy says with a smile on her face. "Now go change into one of your sweaters or something. Oh! Eddie, you should change with him so you two can color coordinate. It'll be so cute!" 

Steve adds Nancy to the list of people he might murder. 

Eddie's hand drops from his back as he wheels the suitcase into Steve's room. Steve follows and closes the door behind him. 

"Sorry for all this," Steve says, glancing around to make sure nothing embarrassing is laying out. 

Eddie shakes his head and brushes it off as if it's nothing, "Nah, it's all good. I think it could be fun if we let it. Color coordinating is a horrible idea though." 

"Agreed," Steve replies, deciding that his room looks fine. He opens up his closet and pushes his short sleeve clothes to the side to try to get to his sweaters hanging in the back. "What are you thinking for clothes?" 

"I don't care as long as you wear your yellow sweater for one of the pictures." 

Steve snorts. For some reason, Eddie had such an attachment to the thing. One time, he mistakenly put it in his designated donation bin, and he thought Eddie was going to cry when he found it. 

He had cradled the thing to his chest and dramatically said, "You don't understand, Steve. Some people's lives depend on you wearing this sweater. Their lives, Steve." 

Steve had rolled his eyes, put it back on a hanger, and hung it with the other sweaters. "Better?" he asked. 

"Much better."  

And the whole thing had been worth it to see the smile on Eddie's face - especially when Steve decided to surprise him by wearing it to the coffee shop the next day. 

"Whatcha thinking about?" Eddie asks with a smile, suddenly very close to him. 

Steve shakes his head as if shaking away the memory. "Nothing." 

Eddie raises an eyebrow but he doesn't push it before he goes back to his suitcase and starts laying out his clothes on Steve's bed. 

Steve strips off his shirt and pulls the sweater over his head. He glances down at his jeans and decides that Veronica probably won't remember what pants he was wearing in each picture. 

He turns to tell Eddie as much but freezes when he sees Eddie shirtless, sorting through the clothes to find the perfect assortment of layers. Steve swallows and adverts his eyes. He is not going to check him out while he's changing. He clears his throat and turns back to his closet. "I think we just need to change our shirts. Maybe outside, you can start with a base layer then add on top of that." 

Steve doesn't think he can stand to see shirtless Eddie with all his tattoos out in the daylight or the moonlight - if it takes that long. And he certainly does not want to let anyone else see that either. 

"That's smart, babe." 

Steve's hand squeezes whatever poor shirt he was grabbing a little too tight at the nickname. He's never been one for nicknames, especially over-the-top ones, but knowing it's Eddie calling him that as if he really does love him... it really does something for Steve. 

He doesn't reply as he grabs a few shirts and jackets and lays them out on the bed next to Eddie's stuff. 

He glances up at Eddie and almost breathes a sigh of relief when he sees that he has a shirt on. And a flannel. And his leather jacket. Thank goodness for layers. 

He looks back at Eddie's face and catches the exact moment that Eddie registers him wearing the yellow sweater. His eyes fill with unhinged excitement and joy. He walks right into Steve's space and leans down - oh my god - to talk to the sweater. 

"I've missed you so much. You know, it's so unfair that Steve only gets to wear you for a small part of the year. And he doesn't own anything short-sleeved in your beautiful color it seems." 

Steve puts his hands on his hips and stares up at the ceiling. He can't believe he's ever had trouble pushing down feelings for this man. 

(But he makes a note to himself to buy more things in yellow just for him.) 

There’s a loud knocking on the door, then Robin yells, “You two have been in there for a while! Everything okay?” 

“Eddie is talking to my sweater again!” Steve calls back. 

There’s a pause before Nancy says, “Sorry, we didn’t hear you right. What?” 

“I’m talking to his sweater! Be out soon!” Eddie yells. 

There’s some mumbling outside the door as Steve finally looks down at Eddie and asks, “Are you done?” 

Eddie smiles up at him. “Never.” 

But he straightens up and presses a quick kiss to Steve’s shoulder before he turns to leave the room. “That was for the sweater, not you,” Eddie clarifies. 

“Right,” Steve replies. Because that makes so much sense.

Today is going to kill him. 

Part two ;)

(This was meant to just be a ficlet for my dear friend @henderdads , and then it turned into a six-part fic. I hope you enjoy!! ((Especially you, Cass)) AO3 Link here!)

[thatfandomslut]

Opposites Attract

Regina George x Reader

Word Count: 1.4k

Trigger Warning: mean Regina bullying r a bit

Request:

r is a new student, a sweetheart, sunshine vibes and regina is randomly mean towards r, but r is just gentle and kind and eventually Regina falls in love, maybe some confessions and a bit of their relationship as a couple

Mean Girls requests are open.

Other Accounts: hoe4flo | ghostyanne

Discords: Mean Girls

Regina could feel her pulse quicken when she saw (Y/n) enter the cafeteria with that dumb, bright, beautiful smile that always adorned her features. It made Regina’s blonde boil to see her over there, laughing. Even though she wasn’t even sure why this bothered her so much. When (Y/n) glanced up, sending a small wave over to Regina and a smile, Regina felt her eyes widen and cheeks heat up as she rolled her eyes and looked away. Why would she, the Queen of North High, have anything to do with her?

“Hey,” Gretchen greeted, her honey blonde hair cascading in waves over her shoulders as she sat across from Regina with a smile. However, when she didn’t get a response, she turned around to see Regina staring at (Y/n) again. She was unsure if she should say something and if Karen didn’t whisper ‘Danger,’ under her breath when Gretchen was about to, she would’ve. Instead, she remained quiet as Regina crossed her arms and narrowed her eyes at the girl across the room. “Do we have any plans this weekend?” It was an attempt to get Regina’s attention and to see if she needed to plan for any kind of party.

It was successful as Regina blinked, suddenly realizing that Karen and Gretchen were sitting in front of her. “What?” She questioned, processing Gretchen’s words. “Oh, right, a party. I don’t have one on my radar, but I’m sure I’ll find one.” She hummed, glancing at her nails, pretending to be nonchalant.

“I heard (Y/n) was going to have one for her birthday this weekend.” Karen spoke up, her voice filled with a bit of nerves. (Y/n) was always a weird subject for the trio. It seemed only Regina could talk about her. Gretchen and Karen had no problem with the girl, but because Regina did, they had to pretend to. “It’s supposed to be really big, and her brother is getting drinks for everyone.”

Regina sucked her bottom lip in, nibbling it for a moment while she thought about Karen’s words. “I guess we could make an appearance. I’m not really sure how a party by Little Miss Sunshine could be big though. I just don’t see her throwing a wild party that’s actually… good.” She hummed, grabbing the apple off her tray to take a bite off of it as she glanced up, making eye contact with (Y/n). She made sure to give her a look before glancing at her friends to see what they thought. Even though they were bound to do whatever Regina wanted to do regardless of their opinions. After all, this was a monarchy not a democracy. There were no votes.

Admittedly, Regina knew why she found it hard to like (Y/n). It was because she was in love with her. She had loved her since they were in the third grade and (Y/n) came running to help Regina up when she scraped her knee. But afraid of the school’s thoughts, she had shoved those feelings down. Instead of being nice to the one girl who made her feel any sense of normalcy, Regina would treat her to icy stares and her infamous scowls. She couldn’t allow herself to allow anyone to know about her feelings. Even if she knew deep down that Gretchen and Karen had caught on a long time ago.

On the night of the party, they were immediately greeted by (Y/n) who had a grin plastered onto her face. “You made it,” she cheered, hugging Karen and Gretchen. She didn’t want to overstep with Regina, so she opted to only extend the girl a polite smile. “The drinks are in the kitchen guarded by my brother. Do you want anything? He is an awfully great bartender.” She said, leading them to the kitchen.

“Sure, we’ll take some drinks,” Regina answered, knowing that she would call her mother when they were ready to be picked up. She nodded over to Gretchen and Karen who enthusiastically accepted themselves, taking drinks. “So, any party games?” Regina questioned, quirking up an eyebrow.

A smirk made its way onto (Y/n)’s lips as she crossed her arms. “I’m glad you asked. You three arrived just in time for a game of Seven Minutes in Heaven. A classic game that somehow never gets old. Shane Oman just spun on Aaron.” Her eyes sparkled mischievously as she walked into her living room where a group of people were talking, waiting for the timer to blare when it was up. When it did, (Y/n) took the liberty to knock on the door, and when it was opened by Aaron, he and Shane had accidentally swapped shirts, causing the group to snicker but say nothing. “Go ahead and take a seat,” she told the three, who sat on a couch that was suddenly open with one look from Regina.

“I think it’s the birthday girl’s turn.” Aaron winked, wrapping an arm around the girl with a wink, hair tousled by presumably Shane’s hands. Everyone but Regina started cheering for (Y/n) to spin the bottle except Regina. She wouldn’t be able to watch her go into that closet with someone else. Her chest felt tight as she glanced over at Gretchen, who looked back at her nervously. It irked her to know that Gretchen knew her so well. Though, it was also pretty comforting to not feel so alone in that moment. “Well, the people have spoken. Go on, birthday girl.”

(Y/n) shook her head with a playful smile, kneeling down to spin the bottle. Regina’s breath was sucked in and held there as the Bud Light’s amber bottle started to slow. She couldn’t even exhale and relax when it stopped, making a clear point to her. “All right,” Shane said, opening the door with a wide smirk. “The birthday girl paired with the Queen Bee. This should be interesting.” Regina almost knocked him out, fist clenching as she made her way into the closet, pushed close against (Y/n).

When the door closed, darkness ensued. Before Regina could think of something- anything- to say, (Y/n) spoke first, surprising her. “I’m sorry you’re stuck here with me.” She said, her voice quiet, and very unlike her. (Y/n) was usually loud, and her smile could brighten up even the darkest of rooms. “I know you don’t like me very much.” She said solemnly.

Regina’s eyes closed before she released a sigh. “That’s not true,” she confessed. The words surprised them both, causing a silence to fall upon them. The closet was stuffy and hot, but neither minded being pressed against each other despite that. “I wish it was, it would make everything easier. The truth is… I do like you. Maybe more than I should.” Regina admitted, wishing she never said anything.

“What do you mean?” (Y/n) questioned, confused on what Regina was meaning. After all, she could never figure the blonde out. She was always staring, but when (Y/n) made eye contact, she would suddenly turn icy. “You like me?”

“I’ve liked you since the third grade. I just never felt like anything would happen.” Regina began, biting her lip for a moment. “Well, that and… I was scared for what others might think of me. Stupid, huh?”

(Y/n) didn’t agree nor disagree. Instead, she stayed silent for a second, processing Regina’s words. “Regina, it’s okay to be worried about personal perceptions. I think that’s very human. Though, you can’t allow it to control your happiness.” She stated simply, and Regina knew she was right. She just struggled with the idea of being happy if the entire school didn’t fear or love her.

Then, she decided fuck that because (Y/n) was here, telling her to stop allowing her fears to control her happiness. “(Y/n), I really want to kiss you,” she finally said. She decided to be bold. She wasn’t going to allow herself to hold onto her fears. Instead, she decided to be happy and to let go of what controlled her.

There was a small snort from (Y/n) that made Regina smile a bit. “Then do it,” she said before Regina crashed her lips against hers. There was a muffled squeak from (Y/n) before she quickly reciprocated, kissing her back deeply. Their hands were left exploring each other, but before they could fully enjoy it, there was a knock. Regina pulled away, rolling her eyes. Opening the door slightly, she narrowed her eyes at Shane, the person who knocked. “Seven more minutes.” She stated before reclosing the door, making the cheering barely audible.

[rin-fukuroi]

𝐅𝐚𝐢𝐫 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲 [𝐀𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐞]

Please do not translate or publish my works without my permission.

The originals of my works can be read here

Fandom: Honkai: Star Rail

Pairings: Aventurine x dealer!fem!reader

Warnings: gambling, sexual tension.

Note: English is not my native language, so I apologize if there are errors in the text qq I'm just starting my blog on Boosty, but I'll be glad if you support me with a subscription and read the full NSFW version of this work there. Soon there will be other works that will not be published on Tumblr.

▶• ılıılıılıılıılıılı. VIVIZ — MANIAC

You have long heard from other casino employees about a certain visitor, which comes here quite often, but you have never been lucky enough to meet him until today. The girls sighed languidly, referring to him as a handsome man, preparing to serve him the best drink, for which he would pay generously, and the men working in security only irritably noted that if he visited the institution today, they would only have more work. Then you didn't pay any attention to their words until one of the bar staff squealed with delight, energetically pointing at the blond man who entered the hall.

A dazzling smile, a light gait, but a sly look hidden behind gold glasses, gliding across the tables and the employees standing behind them before playfully sparkling violet-blue eyes rest on you. Your back straightens reflexively, and your fingers wrap around the back of your hand, and you nod in greeting when several men, led by a blond man, approach your poker table. You have been working in the field of gambling for several years, so you can easily notice expensive watches, chains and rings on his hands and a long earring in the ear of an elegant man in a hat, dressed in a black jacket with a fur collar, a turquoise shirt with a small but provocative neckline on the chest and white trousers with patent leather shoes. In total, all the clothes and trinkets of this person can be compared to the cost of your life. Winning will not matter to him, as losing will not greatly affect the quality of his life, which means he simply enjoys a sense of excitement and superiority, since, according to rumors, he plays very well.

«Well…»

— Oh? I haven't seen you before, — the blond man lowers his glasses on the bridge of his nose, smiling slyly at you as soon as you raise your head.

— I'm sorry, sir, today I'm serving you, because the dealer who is more familiar to you is ill, but I assure you, this will not affect the quality of the time spent in our institution in any way, — you kindly answer with a calm expression on your face, which causes the blonde to chuckle softly.

— How official! Relax, honey, — the man leans lower, slightly tilting his head to one side, carefully watching how the expression on your face changes to a more tense one. — It's a pity that… Oh, what was her name? — the blonde pulls away, thinking for a second, trying to remember the name of your colleague, but in the end only sighs briefly, spreading his hands. — It doesn't matter. You've been brought up to date, that we're going to need a separate room, haven't you?

— Yes, sir. Please follow me.

An unpleasant person. It was clear from afar that it was better to stay as far away from him as possible. These vibes of nauseating self-confidence and narcissism definitely don't bode well, but you still humbly do your duty, pulling on a smile and letting the guests into the VIP-room. Usually this room is rented by companies of influential people whose names are so well known to everyone that such guests don't even bother to introduce themselves, because you always know who they are, but these men… You're seeing them for the first time.

Anyway, a job is a job.

— Have a seat, dear guests. Would you like to see the bar menu?

Men in suits silently take their seats, and only an energetic blonde immediately responds to the sound of your voice, standing in front of the last empty chair.

— We'll order the same as usual,— the stranger says sweetly, spreading into a frighteningly sweet smile that sends chills down my spine.

— I'm sorry, but I'm afraid I don't know…

— Oh, how could I forget! — the blond man clasps his hands in a gesture of apology. — Whiskey on the rocks.

His theatricality is a little annoying, but that's none of your business.

— As you wish, sir.

The female silhouette peeking out from behind the slightly open door and instantly disappearing after the blonde's words only made your task easier, allowing you not to even leave the room. It seems that this man is really very popular among girls, which, in principle, isn't surprising. A pretty face, a thick purse and a sugary voice, like a demeanor, are the pillars that support the classic image of a heartthrob in the eyes of any woman. It would be fascinating if you hadn't met such people before. This place is teeming with both men and women, sometimes even reasonably believing that the whole world belongs to them. Perhaps you would have bought into his charisma too, if you were as frivolous as a bar employee rushing into a room no more than five minutes after the order was placed.

— Thank you, dear. As always, you help out, otherwise my friends seem to be out of sorts today, — the blond man chuckles melodiously, looking at the other five guests. You can almost see in their stern looks the desire to strangle this talkative flatterer, and you can't help but chuckle to yourself.

— Anything for our beloved visitor! Have a nice game, — your friend blushes, smiling shyly before leaving the room, barely restraining a satisfied squeak.

You modestly clear your throat, drawing the attention of everyone at the table to yourself.

— Well, gentlemen, shall we begin?

You leave the button* in front of the blond man sitting first on your left hand. Early* is the most unfavorable position to start the game, but he should have known about it when he sat down here, or is it just an accident?

After the preflop*, while you were deftly shuffling the deck in your hands, someone had already started emptying their glass of whiskey, someone took out a pair of fragrant chocolate cigars. The blonde just watched carefully how skillfully you dealt the cards, not missing a single movement of your fingers. For a second, you even doubted that he didn't trust the new dealer, but every time you dared to look at him, his lips stretched into an even more sugary smile, and his eyes always found yours. Is he trying to get you into the same emotions as the silly waitresses? You wonder how soon he'll lose interest in your indifferent face?

The game went on quite calmly until three people remained at the table, including a smiling blond man.

— Ace of hearts, two of spades, jack of hearts, ten of clubs, two of hearts. The bets are made, you can open, — you say in a monotone voice, glancing at the cards on the table that turn over one by one.

«Street? Not bad…» — you stop looking at the blond's cards before you hear a thud on the table. After looking at the other hands it became clear that there is nothing on the table stronger than two pairs.

— Oh, don't get mad! We've just started, — the blond man raises his hands in an innocent gesture, chuckling softly, it seems, making the man opposite even angrier.

It seems that now you understand a little what the casino guards were so unhappy about, but the more games passed, the more sad the blonde's position became. The empty glasses were hastily replaced with newly filled ones with a new portion of whiskey, and the concentration of smoke in the small room became more and more suffocating, it seems, only exposing the undisguised glee of the men at the table, allowing themselves to mock the blonde, who was catastrophically unlucky today. A flush* against a royal flush, a pair against a square* and, in the end, his hand could only boast of the highest card*. What a disappointment.

— Here, order yourself one more whiskey, — one of the departing men casually tossed a couple of chips in front of the blond man sprawled on a chair, grinning hoarsely before staggering slightly out of the room after the other four, whose loud voices disappeared into the noise of the casino outside the door.

— Sure, — the man who remained at the table smiled gently at the departing acquaintance before taking a sip from his glass.

You wanted to say something, maybe even encourage him, but it's not your way to mind your own business, so you just silently gathered the cards from the table, about to ask the guest to leave the room, when suddenly he spoke first.

— That's not what you expected, is it? — you turn to the blond man, who is resting his head on his own palm. The same strange smile is still playing on his lips, even despite how much money he left at this institution today. He's really weird.

— I don't know what you mean. I don't know how you play, so I couldn't even try to predict the outcome of the game.

— Come on. You know how I play. That girl from the bar told you about me, didn't she?

Annoy.

— Even so, I'm not used to trust rumors, — you reply indifferently, carefully putting the cards back in the box.

— In that case, now you can conclude that I'm a lousy player? Oh, that would be unfortunate, because everyone has unlucky days.

— I don't think it's about luck, — you wanted to say that someone should just drink less and make less risky bets, but you restrained yourself, maintaining professionalism.

— Ho-oh? Then what is it? — the blond man perked up even more, waiting curiously for your answer.

— It is not appropriate for me to give advice to visitors, because my earnings, among other things, depend on them.

— That's how it is! So I was wrong when I decided that you weren't like the other girls looking at my wallet?

— It turns out that it is. But I'm looking at the wallets of every potentially profitable player for me, — you shrug your shoulders. — And now, if you'll excuse me, you should leave the room, since the game is over.

— How pragmatic, you remind me of someone I know, — the blond man, as if he hadn't heard your last words, gets up from his chair, coming closer. — So you don't believe in luck, huh?

The man leans slightly forward, looking into your eyes from under the half-lowered glasses on the bridge of his nose. The expensive sweet fragrance of the perfume instantly cuts into your nostrils, and you take a small step back.

— It's absurdly to rely only on luck in poker. That's all I wanted to say.

— Hm-m … — the blond man pretends to think. — You're right. Then what about roulette?

— Even roulette has its own patterns, but if we don't go into details, of course, this game revolves exclusively around chance.

— Great! Then can we play? — the man turns towards the roulette table, which has apparently not been used for a long time, in the corner of the room.

— I'm afraid my shift is already over… — you frown, even before you finish, he interrupts you.

— Oh, I was so catastrophically unlucky today that I just want to win back at least another game, otherwise I won't be able to sleep peacefully tonight… Are you really that heartless?

— You can use the services of a croupier and play roulette in the hall.

— It would be sad, because I already liked you, — the blonde smiles, looking into your eyes again.

— If you're trying to flirt with me like that, then I'm in a hurry to upset you — it won't work, — you reply irritably, about to leave, when suddenly a weak grip on your wrist stops you.

— I'm sad to hear that, but what if I make a bet?

You turn around, batting your eyelashes in puzzlement when you meet the sharp gaze of a man's violet-blue eyes.

— You can't play roulette without betting, what's the point of all this?

— Let's say… if my bet plays out, you owe me a kiss, what do you say?

You almost boil with anger, looking at this personification of self-confidence standing in front of you.

— I'm not going to play your games, let go of my hand.

The attempt to pull back your hand was unsuccessful, on the contrary, only forcing the blond to pull you closer.

— It seems that luck isn't on my side today, so if I lose, I'll just leave.

The desire to just slap him in the face is almost impossible to ignore, but you wouldn't be working here if you weren't a gambling person too. Your lips stretch into an arrogant smile as you approach the blond man's face, slightly squinting your eyes.

— In that case, on what number* will you put it on?

The blond man's eyebrows rise, after which a ringing laugh is heard in the room.

— I knew you could entertain me! — the man lets go of your hand, but does not take a step away from you before saying softly. — I'm betting on zero.

«He's crazy!»

You almost laughed at how crazy his bet turned out to be, but it sounds like he's already agreed to leave you alone, so you just smiled, silently retreating to the corner of the dimly lit room. The table has indeed not been used for a long time, having already become covered with a layer of dust, but you take a small ball, gently rolling it in your hand before turning towards the blond man who remains standing at the poker table. He doesn't seem to care at all that he's going to lose now, and the smile doesn't leave his face for a second. It will be all the sweeter to see how the expression on his face will change when he loses.

— Your bet is accepted, — you say loudly before spinning the roulette wheel by throwing a ball at it.

The man doesn't even look at the spinning roulette wheel, instead watching your eyes follow the ball as it slides across the sectors.

12, 35, 3, 26, and finally….

— It can't be… — you whisper, eyes wide open and just looking at how the ball stopped at zero.

— Ho-oh? What's is it? Judging by your reaction, did I win? — the blond man grins, slowly removing his hat from his head and leaving the hat on the edge of the poker table.

This can't be happening. Betting on numbers is always a huge risk, because the chance that the ball will stop at the chosen one is incredibly small. Was he… really just lucky?

You purse your lips, summoning all the self-control you have to turn to the man with an indifferent expression on your face.

— That's right, congratulations on winning, sir.

— M-m… it's not just a win, you remember the conditions, right? — the blond man says playfully, slowly walking towards you, until finally he towers over you, elegantly ripping the glasses off his face.

«This jerk has probably been rehearsing this for years…»

— I didn't have to accept such bets at all, — you mutter irritably.

— I understand your disappointment, but still, you accepted it. Be kind enough to hand me my prize, — you look into the extraordinarily beautiful eyes of a man, trying your best to deny how really attractive he looks without glasses and a hat.

— Ahem… okay. But can I at least get your name? I wouldn't want to kiss a complete stranger.

— Huh? So you don't know who I am? How cute, — the blond man squints, breaking into a smile. — You can call me Aventurine. And you… — the man hooks the badge on your chest with the tip of his finger. — Y/N.

Where have all your old composure gone? They probably got lost somewhere in the midst of this madness, which for some reason you signed up for, following your own excitement. Self-confidence is just as much your enemy as Aventurine, only in this case he is elated with victory, and you are trying to collect your thoughts in order to fulfill the conditions of the game he started.

— Excuse me… — you mumble awkwardly before pressing your lips to the man's cheek, leaving as quick a kiss as possible to hastily turn away, hiding the blush that has appeared on your face.

— Hey! And what was that? — Aventurine says in disappointment, touching the place of your kiss with the tips of his black-gloved fingers.

— You asked for a kiss, but didn't specify which one, — you try to sound confident, but still mentally berate yourself for not being able to look into his eyes right now.

— Oh… — the blond man sighs heavily, pulling away and approaching the roulette table. — I'm not satisfied with such a victory. Let's do it again.

— Huh?! — you cry out indignantly, looking at the back of the impudent man rolling the ball around the zero sector. — I shouldn't be here at all, and neither should you!

— I'm betting on zero again.

You freeze, raising an eyebrow when you turn to Aventurine.

— You're going to lose.

— Maybe, — the man shrugs, turning to face you and leaning on the edge of the table. — But if the bet plays out again, you'll give me a real long kiss.

— I'm not going to waste my time on this madness. The chances of hitting zero a second time are so small that it's easier for you to just leave this room right now, since it's simply impossible to play this bet.

— Let it be so. You don't lose anything if you're so sure of my defeat, do you? Besides, didn't you say that you don't give advice to the players?

It annoys you how logical his words sound. But what's even more annoying is that you really doubt it. It's just not possible. You have to show this arrogant idiot his place.

— Okay, — and here you go back to the roulette table again. — But if you lose, you will never return to this casino again.

Aventurine's purple eyes widen before flashing a gambling spark.

— And you know how to make the game more interesting, — the man grins, picking up the ball from the table, carefully leaving it in your hand. — I agree.

This will be the craziest bet anyone has ever made in the entire existence of this casino. And it only fuels your interest too. You spin the wheel in anticipation by throwing the ball. Your heart is pounding in your chest, as if your own life is at stake. It's been a long time since you've experienced such adrenaline, no matter how absurd what's happening, because it's worth it to win…

— Ha-ha! It seems that today is really my day, — Aventurine grins as the ball slowly rolls and stops at sector zero. Again. — The money I lost in poker was worth spending all my luck on such a tempting prize.

Impossible. He just did the impossible. What were the chances? The mind is so devastated by shock that you can't even approximate the probability, just silently looking at the green sector in amazement.

— You're not… cheating, are you? — you're almost whispering, without opening your eyes from the little ball.

— What cruel accusations! How, tell me, could I cheat at roulette? — the man clicks his tongue in frustration, slowly wrapping his arm around your waist before pulling your body towards his. — If these are just assumptions without any evidence, I think it's time to start awarding the second prize.

The lips open, releasing a soft sigh into the air. You feel the warmth emanating from his body, the smell that his nauseatingly expensive clothes exude, and you feel his measured breathing on the skin of your face when Aventurine bends down, almost touching his lips to yours and freezes.

— I'll make it easier for you this time, — the blond whispers, letting his warm breath caress the delicate skin of your lips.

— What do you mean?.. — the only thing you managed to say right before Aventurine's lips covered yours.

Long fingers dive into your hair, forcing you to tilt your head back, and he deepens the kiss, insistently making his way with his tongue through your lips, which are not too resisting. A soft moan dissolves in Aventurine's mouth, and your fingers desperately cling to the fabric of the shirt on the man's chest, but still you respond to the kiss, allowing your tongue to stick out a little further, slowly waltzing in tandem with his. The shock was instantly replaced by a mixture of embarrassment and a flutter in his chest. It seemed that this kiss lasted forever, so harmonious, gentle, but passionate, as if you have known each other for so long that Aventurine doesn't need much effort to make you melt in his hands, which you allow to touch your body.

Lips gasp for air as soon as Aventurine pulls away, looking at your flushed, relaxed face, which isn't touched by the former cold indifference with which you looked at him all evening.

It's a strange feeling. From the very beginning, when you saw this man, the only thought that you would never in your life become infatuated with just his presence somewhere nearby was ingrained in your head, now fighting for supremacy with the unwillingness that he would let you go. You shouldn't give in to this.

You gently press on Aventurine's chest, shuddering as soon as you feel his warm skin under your fingertips, noticing that you touched this very seductive neckline.

— Is that all? I have to go… — you say softly, trying to get out of Aventurine's hands, but he's not even going to let go of your waist or your cheek, to which his palm is still pressed.

— Really? Well, then I won't hold you back, — the blond man grins, still continuing to prevent your imaginary escape.

— Then let me go. I gave away your winnings and I don't owe you anything else.

— Yes, you did, — the man whispers, gently stroking your cheek with a thumb in a leather glove.

You look at each other without saying a word and freeze like statues. The muffled sounds of slot machines, clinking glasses and laughter come from the hall outside the door, breaking the silence that hangs between the two of you, but you can't hear anything else except your own rapid heartbeat throbbing in your ears. A strange warmth spreads in your chest, gradually sinking down, and a heavy weakness settles in your legs, which doesn't allow you to move from your place.

«What are you doing, Y/N?», — you ask yourself one last time before you swear unintelligibly under your breath, grabbing Aventurine's shirt in order to involve the man in the kiss again. Greedy, careless, but you needed it. The blonde's palm shamelessly moves to your buttocks, covered with black trousers, gently squeezing the elastic flesh, and your fingers slowly slip under the neckline in the shape of an inverted heart, caressing the heated skin of Aventurine's chest.

— W-wait… — you suddenly break off the kiss, breathing heavily and looking at the purple irises covered with long eyelashes.

— What's is it? I won't complain that the dealer is harassing me if you're worried about it, — Aventurine grins, forcing the expression on your face to change to the old irritation.

— This is wrong. I don't have to…

— I don't care about the rules, — the man tilts his head to one side, smiling playfully. — I'm betting on black.

— What? — you ask discouraged, watching the man's fingers hastily undoing the buttons of your white shirt.

— If I win, now you'll be my prize, — Aventurine winks at you before opening the cotton fabric on your chest, noticing you are wearing a black lace bra. — Tsk-tsk, how unlucky you are today. I won again.

✧ ✧ ✧

The button is a special chip marked "D", transmitted clockwise and identifying the dealer (in this case, the dealer is an employee of the casino, so the button only determines who will bet first).

The early position is the player's place at the poker table, located immediately behind the dealer.

Preflop is the initial stage of the poker game, which includes the distribution of cards and the first bets, including blinds.

A straight is a combination of a sequence of five cards.

A hand is a combination of two cards in the player's hands.

A flash combination of five cards of the same suit.

Royal flush is the strongest combination of cards from 10 to ace of the same suit.

A pair is a combination of two cards of the same value (for example, two aces).

A square is a combination of five cards of the same value (for example, four aces).

The highest card is the card of the highest value of all lying on the table.

In roulette, it is possible to bet on one color, on even and odd numbers, and so on, including you can bet on a specific number, which is quite risky due to the reduced chances that such a bet will play, but the winnings from it are multiplied by 35.

[sunflower-ozzy-online]

Depths of the Heart

This was supposed to be your last excursion with the party and now you're trapped with Laios. What will be revealed while Chilchuck takes his sweet time helping you out?

Miscommunication? sorta both Laios and the reader are oblivious to their feelings. I did give the reader some anxiety so there's that <3

ダンジョン飯 | Dungeon Meshi | Delicious in Dungeon

Relationship: Laios Touden/Reader

Characters: Namari, Chilchuck Tims, Falin Touden, Marcille Donato, Shuro | Nakamoto Toshiro, Laios Touden

Additional Tags: Fluff and Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Anxiety

As you walk on the stone floors your footsteps echo alongside your parties. The third floor was known for having hidden doorways and traps from floor to ceiling so Chilchuck was leading the group. His senses worked on overdrive making sure the path was safe. 

You had already been in the dungeon for two days so the conversation was light. Marcille and Falin were chatting quietly, probably about spells or their years in the academy. Laios was sticking by Shuros side, like a puppy following a stray cat, asking questions about monsters in the east. Namari and you brought up the rear, protecting the rest of the party from possible attacks. Namari wasn't much of a conversationalist, other than when it came to weapons, so you two walked in a fairly comfortable silence. 

Your mind drifted to your conversation with her before you entered the dungeon a few weeks ago. The party was out to dinner while going over the last excursion. You had wanted to get her input about your thoughts on possibly leaving the party.

“Why!? I mean, not that there aren’t any valid reasons to leave and find a different party, or employer but I thought you and Laios… Got along well. And you like the rest of the party too. You seem happy enough with the progress and payment?” her eyes looking over to where the rest of the party ate in the meal hall. 

“I did, I do. It’s just lately I find myself making mistakes and not feeling like I fit in. The vibes have changed you know? Plus I got an offer for room and board and a paying position in another party on the island. And I know you were thinking about leaving for a little while so I thought I’d get your thoughts.”

She took in your words for a beat and then responded, “I have been getting offers from other parties as well, and they are pretty enticing. Especially when Laios can be a less-than-great leader in the social aspects of leading. Though it would take something pretty impactful to make me just get up and leave.” 

You nod along as she talks. 

“But that’s me. What's important is that if you feel like staying in the party is not for you then that's what you feel. Before you leave you should talk to Laios, see if maybe this is something you could ya know, work out together.”

Your face grows hot at her suggestion, that was the opposite of what you wanted to do. Recently just being around Laios made you self-conscious and kinda clumsy, which is not what you wanted when in a life or death situation “Maybe. I’ll give it some thought. Thanks, Namari.” 

When you had gone to Namari you had expected her to agree with you and support your decision to leave. It would make sense given that she was always voicing her displeasure with the financial situation. It seemed strange that she would encourage you to try and talk through your issues. Walking on the third floor you think about the resignation letter you had in your pack for after the end of this crawl. You hadn't told anyone yet, not wanting to ruin your last adventure together. Though most of the party members had noticed your emotional distance, besides Laios. He would still tell you monster facts about the monsters you had just taken down, even repeating ones he had told you before. Earlier on you would grin and comment on them, or even offer some of your own. Now however it makes you feel uneasy when his smiling face and positive energy are directed towards you. You simply acknowledged his words and continued. 

You can't blame him for not noticing. You were trying to not let him know how strange you felt, and you were not about to tell him and make him concerned. And what if he got mad at you when you told him, you couldn't handle that? It would be easier to just take it on yourself and remove yourself from the equation. You had been in your mind so much you hadn't noticed that there was an odd stone in your path. Though Laios had. 

“(Y/N!)” he shouted while rushing back towards you. You looked at him right as your foot stepped down. His body collided with you as the section of floor you were standing on gave out beneath you. 

~~~

“Damn it!” you exclaimed after you had landed properly on your bottom with Laios’ body over top of yours. “I can’t believe I was dumb enough to step on that pressure plate! I should have been paying attention.” 

“We all make mistakes,” Laios said while standing up and dusting himself off. “Plus Chilchuck should be able to find the release mechanism up above. Then Marcille or Falin can help us out.” He starts looking around, the temporary holding place having a few torches for light. “At least it wasn’t a spike pit.” 

“We shouldn't try to escape without Chilchuck. We may get ourselves into even more trouble if we press the wrong thing. Plus neither of us specialize in things like this.” you tell him, worried as he walks along the perimeter of the room.

He nods along, “You’re right, looks like we’ll just have to wait it out.”  

Your heart beats loudly in your chest. Not only were you trapped due to your airheadedness you also had brought Laios down with you.  Mistakes like this were exactly why you needed to leave. You were becoming a danger to yourself and others. Whenever Laios was around or on your mind you just could not focus. Why had you decided on one last trip? You had already agreed to the new job?  You knew you couldn't be trusted but you just had to follow along. But when Laios told you about the plans for this trek you just agreed, without a second thought. And now, you could die in this stupid room and no corpse retriever would be able to find you. No, you try to tell yourself, you're only on the third floor and you trust your party. As long as you stayed where you were and did not move there would be no way you could mess it up anymore.

“Well while we're here we may as well make lunch.” 

“Yeah I guess.” you're an idiot

~~~

Laios went through his rations finding some dried meat and barley rice. He didn’t have enough water to soak the barley rice in. 

“I think I have some backup in my pack, you can check. Oh, also I brought some seasonings along if you would grab those too” You were busy using your limited magical knowledge to start a fire. 

“Thanks.”  No matter what was cooked he would always stomach it with enthusiasm if it came from you but you did pride yourself on being able to make the rations a bit better with seasonings and some oil. Some people, Chilchuck, thought it was an unnecessary weight but you liked it. Plus you could tell he liked it better when you were on cooking duty. 

Rummaging sounds came from Laios as he looked through your pack for the ingredients. Your fire was done and you placed the pan over the fire to start heating up. 

“Here.” he handed you the water and your spice pouch. 

“Thank you Laios,” you added the water to the pan and let it come to heat as you prepared the barley rice. 

After a while the food was ready. You and Laios ate together. It may have been your anxiety but he seemed suspiciously quiet. Laios was rarely this quiet for this long, always filling the air with his thoughts on monsters or the dungeon, freely asking questions about his party members' lives. To be fair you were quieter lately, though he had not seemed to notice, he would have brought it up. Or would he? He wasn't very keen on social cues so you hadn't seen him confront anyone about it before. 

“When are you leaving?” 

“Huh?” 

“I saw your notice in your bag, signed and everything.” 

“Oh,” You forgot you had it in your bag when you told him to look for the ingredients. “I was planning on leaving after this crawl.” 

“I… I thought you liked it, you know, with us.” 

“I do.” 

“Then why are you leaving, is it finances? I know we're a little down right now but if there was a problem why didn’t you come to me?” 

“It’s not the money, I mean it didn’t help but that’s not it.” 

“Did someone say something? Did they make you feel unwelcome or uncomfortable?” he looked worried now “Is it me?” 

You had paused long enough for Laios to pick up on it. 

“It is, isn't it? What was it?  I…  thought we got along well. That we were friends!”

“We were, or are.” You shook your head “It’s not you, you haven’t changed or done anything wrong. I just, I’ve been off and I can’t figure it out.” your heart was beating even faster, you were shaking. This was exactly the conversation you wanted to avoid. 

His head tilted “Off? Like sick?”

“No, more like clumsy. My thoughts keep wandering and I make silly mistakes like getting us trapped here or like during our last crawl. Do you remember when I got sucked into that living painting and Shuro had to jump in to get me? I had zoned out looking right at it and didn't notice it moving! I could have gotten Shuro hurt.” 

Laios is looking at you like you're a hurt puppy

“I’ve become a burden on the rest of the party. It’s not fair to you guys for me to stay so I accepted an offer from another party. They're giving me room and board too, so that’s nice.”

Laios seems to be thinking over your words, looking down at his now-forgotten food.

“But if you are leaving cause you’re distracted how will that be fixed by leaving? Won’t you just be distracted in a new setting? That seems even more dangerous! You don’t know if you can trust your new party members. At least with us you know we will always have your back.” 

“I didn't even want to have this conversation. It would have been so much easier if we had a successful crawl and then I would tell the party I was leaving and said our goodbyes. Simple and nice. People change parties all the time Laios!” 

“That doesn't answer my question.”

You sigh and look away from him, looking towards the torch on the wall. They are always lit yet they never burn out. Must be tiring “I know.” He doesn't take his eyes off of you. “I guess it’s because it usually only happens when I'm with this party. Well mostly.” You can't bring yourself to fully look at him. 

“Oh.” 

You breathed in, hoping he would just drop it. Hoping he would come to some kind of understanding in his head. 

“But why?” 

Of course not. 

You buried your face in your hands. “I don't know.” 

“If we can work this out then I want to try. You shouldn’t leave.”  

“It’s not like I want to leave! I just, I can’t justify putting you and the others at risk because I’m afraid to lose my friendships. I just know that when I’m around the party I get self-conscious or I keep thinking weird things and I make avoidable mistakes.” 

“Self-Conscious?”

“Yeah … like if I look okay, or if I’m fighting well or not. If i'm being too loud or talking too much or not enough. As if I was an adolescent again trying to make the cool kids like me.”

He takes some time to weigh your words in his head.  

“Well I don’t know much about romance but that kind of seems like maybe you have a crush? Maybe? Marcille has talked to me about some of the books she read, and one of the characters acts like that around the character they want to court.”

Your heart seems to stop. 

“I think the next step is to figure out who it is and then tell them. You should ask Marcille though she really likes this kind of stuff. She's been talking about it to me more lately so she must really want someone to talk about it with.”

“Oh god.” of course it’s just a crush you feel so silly. “I guess that makes sense.” But who? 

Oh. Oh no. 

“Maybe it’s Shuro? He is pretty cool, and strong. Or Marcille, I know some people really find elves attractive, plus she's also good at magic.” 

Of course it's Him. It could never have been anyone else. 

“Or Namari, you two do seem pretty close.” 

Before you started having trouble your thoughts were always filled with ‘What does Laios think about this’ and ‘I wonder if Laios would be interested in that’, you had just thought he was a good friend. It was right around the time he had carried you away from an attacking dryad after it had pierced your thigh that you became more distant. He was always so careful with you and attentive. But he had never shown you any interest, not romantically. You weren't sure if he was even interested in those kinds of things. If leaving the group was bad, being rejected by Laios would be even worse. There was no way you could tell him now.

“Never mind. It’s probably best for me to leave. I wonder when Chilchuck will figure this damned trap out huh?” 

“Y/N?” 

“It’s already been like 30 minutes at least right?” you got up abruptly.

“Y/N.” 

“Maybe we should try and figure out a way to escape. They could have been ambushed.” you were now walking around the room looking for switches.

“I don’t think so, and even if they had been they would have taken care of any monsters we were only on the third floor. Why don’t you want to talk about this?”  He was still sitting on the ground

“I’m feeling restless.” your hands ran against the wall, looking intently at the grooves.

“But if we work it out then you may not have to leave? You just have to tell them.” He sounds a little breathless.

“They don’t like me, Laios. Not like that.” Your fingers find a loose piece of stone

“You figured out who it was?” He’s almost hopeful

“Yes.” you pick at the small rock

“But you won't tell them?” confused

“No.” you let it fall from the wall

“So you're still going to leave?” 

The rock sits still in the place it fell

“Yes.” 

“Will you look at me?” 

“No.” 

A beat passes 

“We don’t want you to leave.”

“You don’t know that. I’m sure you can find another decent party member to take my place.” 

“I don’t want you to leave.” 

“Maybe a Kobold, that would be cool.” 

“I don't want a Kobold, I want you.” 

“No you don’t.” 

“Don’t tell me what I want. I don't want another party member, it’s not even about losing a party member. I just want you. Don’t leave.” 

“You don’t want me Laios.” 

“I do.” 

“No, you don’t!” you whip around to look in his direction unable to fully look at him, tears have been collecting in your water line for a while now. “You don’t want me!” A tear finally spills, you take a deep breath in and look away “Not like I want you. So just… let me go. I will be fine, Laios.” you don't want to yell at him, you don’t want to be crying.  “God what is taking them so long.” putting your focus on the ceiling where you fell from. 

Calloused yet soft hands touch your face, you don't know how he got so close to you so fast. Or quietly for that matter with all that armor on. 

“Look at me, please.” 

You sniffled, letting your eyes turn down to meet his. He, noticeably, was not crying. He was smiling, softly, a blush adorned his cheeks. His eyes took in your face and a huff of breath escaped his lips. 

“It’s not funny, Laios.” scolding him. You had just basically confessed and now he was what? Amused by the fact you were crying?

“It kind of is. You see I have just realized we are probably two of the stupidest people in our party.” 

“You’re not stupid.” 

“No, I am. Because I have had you in front of me for how long? And I am just now realizing how much I like you. Marcille didn’t want to talk about her books. She was trying to make me realize my feelings for you. Chilchuck has been complaining about in party romances more lately, And Namari told me you were thinking about leaving and yet I couldn’t even let myself fathom being without you that I let you pull away from us, from me.” 

“What?” 

“And you’re stupid if you think I wouldn't reciprocate your feelings. You are so stunning and clever, well usually. You let me ramble about monsters and you always light up when you talk about cooking or other interests. Anyone would be lucky to be on the receiving side of your affection.”

“But you've never even shown the slightest interest in anything romantic before.”  

He nods while wiping at your tear stained cheeks with his thumb.

“It is rare, but it has happened before. Though it was never reciprocated, after that I kind of gave up. I focused on being a soldier, and being a good brother to Falin. It seemed like I would never have a chance to love, much less be loved like that.” he looked down and away but just for a second. “I’m sorry I made you feel unwanted.” 

“I can’t believe I didn't realize what it was before we fell in this stupid hole.” you giggled slightly

“I’m glad you did, otherwise I wouldn't have gotten to do this.” 

“Hmm?” 

He softly placed his lips on yours. It was tentative, and unmoving. You pushed back lightly, letting your lips slot in with his.  

Above you the ceiling opened up, grabbing both of your attentions. 

“We should get our stuff.” you say. Slowly you pull away from each other and pick up your back packs. Hiding your flushed faces from view. 

~~~

It took a little bit of time but with some rope and climbing you were both able to get out of the hole. It seemed that the rest of the party also had lunch while you were in the trap. A part of you wanted to cuss them out for leaving you down there so long. The other part was grateful because now you had Laios and you got yourself back. Shuro was avoiding looking at the both of you but Chilchuck and Marcille seemed pretty smug.  

Smiling, Chilchuck finally spoke up “Sorry it took me so long, it was a very complicated mechanism.” Asshole. You glared at him as Laios spoke up.

“No it’s fine, but we did loose quite a bit of time we should probably move on if we want to make it to the fourth floor.” 

Everyone agreed and started to pack up and head out. While everyone was busy Laios grabbed your hand and gave it a slight squeeze. You would have to talk later but for now you felt lighter than you had in a while. You reminded yourself that you needed to rip up that notice and send out a letter to the other party. This one suited you just fine.

Masterlist

[hazelsmirrorball]

Back To December | Charles Leclerc

SUMMARY: Charle's Pop singer girlfriend drops a song in honor of Charles FACE CLAIM: Sabrina Carpenter pairings: Singer! Reader x Charles Leclerc authors note: Christmas Vibes!!

liked by taylorswift, charles_leclerc, and 4,050,245 others

y/n surprise! i love you guys so so much that I decided to give you guys an early christmas gift... Back to December is out now!

view all 5,694 comments

y/nsmirrorball I'm sorry what?

y/nsferrari you can't keep getting away this!!!

user5 Back to December, you know what also happen in December?

→user6 what?

→user5 Y/n and Charles break up was announced on December

→user7 you are reaching so bad. How do you even know this.

→user6 no because I get it

taylorswift in love with this song

→ y/n I'm in love with you

y/nlover real music is back!!

user10 omg! omg! Charles is in the likes!! WHAT DOES THIS MEAN

→user12 IT MEANS THAT OUR PARENTS ARE BACK TOGETHER.

via twitter

charles_leclerc via instagram stories.

y/nxcharlesupdates via instagram

liked by arthur_leclerc, user101, user10 and 1,245 others

y/nxcharlesupdates things are pretty wild right now. Today is one year since Y/n and Charles broke up and we prayed for them to have an interaction but this wasn't the answer we expected. Y/n dropping a song unannounced after a being on break for almost a year and a half and Charles congratulating her in her stories after posting a picture of some roses. I truly believe this is a petty war.

view all 94 comments

user10 no because Charles is being so shady and I'm here for it. Have you guys even seen the time stamp, he. would go back to December!!! he misses her bad.

user68 I love that we are assuming everything, she didn't say the song was about Charles!

→user6 girl are you dumb? I want to be as oblivious as you are....

user5 Arthur in the likes? He knows something we don't

user9 okay but we all have to agree that back to December is the anthem of December. Fuck all I want for christmas is you or whatever

user5 Y/n and Charles break up was announced on December

user7 Charles is in his reputation era and I'm here for it!!!

→user6 I usually support women's wrongs but right now I want peace

user11 my parents will get back together

→user45 Girl. Keep dreaming

y/nxcharlesupdates via instagram

liked by user1023, user101, user10 and 1,245 others

y/nxcharlesupdates guess we are technically back in December :)

view all 103 comments

user10 what the actual fuck

user5 screaming, crying, throwing up.

user9 they want tea pages to go crazy

user5 Y/n and Charles are back together in december

user7 wake up and make up

→user6 starting the New Years right!!

user11 I support this

user45 the world is healing

user68 hun, what's this? @ynnn

→ynnn what? I was clear when I said I would go back to December

...

The cold breeze hit y/n’s body making her cover herself for some type of warmth. She was starting to regret doing this. It felt she was doing something wrong, she could feel the guilt eating her away. Yet she couldn’t manage to knock on the door in front of her. Maybe this wasn’t the best idea, maybe she should just go back home and act like she didn’t see his car parked in the driveway and pretend he wasn’t home. She wished she could just go back to the night where everything happened, take back every word that haunts her at night. She wished she would’ve stayed and maybe things would have been different. She wanted him, she wanted everything she had before. 

Before she even had the chance to knock on the door she was faced with those soft eyes she had fallen for. She slowly pulled her hand down and stared at him, taking him in completely. 

“I was debating on opening the door. But it’s too cold to let you outside. I’m not that mean” Charles said, moving to the side so she could enter. Y/n slowly entered the room noticing that it was practically the same as the day she left. As she looked around she noticed how Charles stood awkwardly in front of her wanting for her to speak. She debated on what to say first, not wanting to risk her chances. 

“Happy Birthday” She managed to get out, as she did, her words echoed through her head she scrunched up her face in embarrassment. She knew it wasn’t his birthday but she had decided not to text him that day. She needed to start somewhere. She needed him to know that if they loved again, she would love him right. 

[violetdawn001]

What is with the Dreamer's Houses? Herrah's Den

Okay, we can all agree that Team Cherry put a LOT of thought into crafting the backgrounds and environments of Hollow Knight. But why is nobody talking about the designs for the Dreamers' houses?! Especially compared with their base forms?  Well, let's start talking about it!

Herrah

This is Herrah's design:

Herrah is massive compared to several creatures we have come across in Hallownest. While her mask and horns give off sharp and spooky vibes, take a look at her bottom half. It is round and supported by many limbs.

In comparison, Hornet is far slimmer than her mother, which can either come from her father's genes, her age, or lack of nutrition. Herrah, however, is matured in both mind and body. Herrah's body is like a woman's body which has gone through a pregnancy: stretched and curvy. I do not mean it in a demeaning way. No, these are Herrah's battle scars that she wears proudly as Hornet's mother.

Do people think about that when they see Herrah? No.

At first, they are put off by Herrah's sharp horns and six eyes. It is a mental aspect of our brains to associate sharpness with threats. But the roundness in character design is often associated with warmth and approachability.  This Beast is the same person who Hornet called "Mama"; the deadly hunter queen who cuddled her baby.

By the time we meet Herrah within the Dream Realm to strike her, we should already know that she is Hornet's mother and be conflicted about killing her. Herrah's design only adds to the drama as we listen to Herrah's last words "For her…for her…"

Herrah is a Seal but also a Mom and a Queen. And most likely the main reason why anyone writes AUs sparing the Dreamers.

But I have written too much about Herrah. Let us check out her den!

The entrance is carefully spun while the door is framed by metal design not seen in Hallownest, implying that the Weavers know both the arts of metalwork and weaving.

After entering the Beast's Den, you are treated to a large hall. It seemed to have served as a dining hall, meeting hall, and war room in the past. Now, it is solely used to "prank" any visitors.

Both pictures, however, are the only ones that visitors see when they come to the Beast's Den. Unless you count the distorted view you get as you try to peer through the silk before you get eaten.  Now, if you are lucky enough to be seen as a visitor and not future food, you will see the Weavers are crafty and capable in many arts: weaving, metalwork, and war.

Now, apply that to Herrah and you should carefully take a few steps away.

This, however, is what is applied to Herrah based on a public area. It is time to enter the Beast's Den proper.

And immediately you start to have claustrophobia.  Webs everywhere…

Need I say more?

There is light, but it is very soft and in-between. Your lantern must suffice. But for the Weavers and Herrah, the light from the few lamps is more than enough.

Herrah's Den does not seem to be just for her glory alone, however, as several masks are seen.

IMPORTANT! Neither mask belongs to Herrah! The first mask is too round, like one the few Weavers we find alive in Deepnest, while the other is a Stalking Devout as seen by the hole where the mouth would go.

As for their significance, we are unfortunately left without a guide to tell us anything. But if they were in Herrah's Den with such fine art surrounding them, then Herrah wanted these masks there to honor whoever the masks represent. This detail speaks volumes of how Herrah greatly respects those whom she believes are worthy of honor, even if you must to travel into her den to know of her respect.

As for respect, let us see how the Weavers paid their last respects to Herrah as she laid dreaming to protect them all.

First, the room is the most lit in the whole den due to wide array of candles. Second, the webs are everywhere, but the angles framing the space make it far nicer on the eye (unlike the rest of the den. 😬). Herrah herself is laid perfectly centered, framed by two banners hanging. Even her hands are neatly folded in rest. This is no longer Herrah's home; it is her shrine.

Yet it seems that the Weavers are the ones who highlighted the importance of Herrah. The queen, after all, cared more about her people and daughter than herself. Of all the banners hung, the only markings on them are the six eyes of the Weavers, not just Herrah. It is her people's flag, not Herrah's. 

One last thing to mention before moving on to the other Dreamers, is asking Herrah what in goodness gracious is this?!

As it is deep within Herrah's den and there are more pressing questions in Hollow Knight, I have not seen many attempts to answer it. As such, we have literally no idea except for some insight provided by the Fandom wiki. I quote:

Beast’s Den Shrine

"A room located in the west part of the Beast’s Den contains an unknown being. The file names for the sprites in this room refer to the area as a ‘shrine’. Hitting the being with the Nail produces a metallic sound. Hitting it with Spells makes a seal appear over it. It is unclear if this being is the corpse of an ancient bug or a statue.” Taken from the Hollow Knight wiki: Ancient Civilisation - Hollow Knight Wiki.

If this is true, then we found what Herrah worshiped, or at least what she let her people worship within her den. Whatever this thing, it is not Weaver in origin. The seal used on it does NOT match up with the various Weaver seals of protection we see in the rest of the game. Perhaps the Weavers learn how to make such seals and spells by studying this creature? If so, then it shows how Herrah is willing to learn from others to protect her people.

Willing to learn from anyone but Hallownest.

The bench and elevator are destroyed, specifically the ones from Hallownest as seen in their designs. It is not that Herrah does not like benches, but that she doesn't like Hallownest. See proof below.

The Bench design here fits far better with the Weaver metalwork than the broken bench in the Stag Station. 

Herrah will use Hallownest to benefit her people, but it will always be on her terms.

Even the existence of the Stag Station is to further trade to increase power and influence for the Weavers while lowering the risk to them. Pro-Hallownestian or Pro-Weaver, you must admit that Herrah acts like a queen should, forever serving her people.

And that is all I could find! If you have any thoughts or questions, comment or reblog down below!

This is a part series to see if I can fit everything in. I hope you enjoyed Herrah's den!

Part 2.0: Monomon's Archives: Here

Part 3.0: Lurien's Spire : Here

Part 3.25: More of Lurien's Spire: Here

Part 3.5: Lurien's Spire: Pillows and Patriotism: Here

Link to essay on Ao3: Here

[mattsenthusiast]

𝙞𝙣𝙠 𝙢𝙮 𝙗𝙤𝙙𝙮 𝙪𝙥 𝙖𝙨 𝙬𝙚 𝙛𝙪𝙘𝙠~ Matt Sturniolo

Summary: You finally decided to get your first tattoo. But what if your tattoo artist senses your nerves and tries to make you feel better?

Warnings: smut, unprotected sex (wrap it up guys), exhibitionism, hand kink, breath play if you squint, needles, pet names, degrading and praising, Dom!Matt, fingering, oral (female receiving), p in v

Word count: 2k

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I looked into the small mirror one last time to make sure I looked presentable before exiting my car.

Today is the day- I was about to get my first tattoo. I’ve been looking forward to it since I was 13, maybe even younger, and my dreams will finally come true.

My legs were shaking slightly from excitement and nerves as I entered the building and made my way upstairs.

The arrangement of the main room was rather dark. Long curtains were covering huge windows that were spread all the way along one wall, and the black drawings decorating any free space on the walls were a perfect finish to the whole vibe.

My eyes scanned the room for a few more seconds before landing on the main desk- specifically on a person sitting behind it.

The man’s gaze was fixated on the computer screen as his fingers swiftly clicked the keyboard. He was wearing a black sleeveless shirt that exposed his slightly toned arms covered in tattoos. His hair was a perfect length, long enough to sit gently on his forehead but short enough to not cover his vision. Dark, circular glasses were sitting on the bridge of his nose. The sight alone made my heart skip a beat and I knew that I’ll be fucked until the end of the appointment.

I approached the desk and that’s when he looked up at me with his blue eyes. I swear I could see them wander down my body for a moment before he cleared his throat.

,,Hey, what can I help you with?”

,,Hello, I actually have an appointment for 6:30. I figured I’ll be a few minutes earlier just in case” I offered him a smile which he returned.

,,oh yeah! You must be y/n, nice to meet you. I’m Matt and I’ll be taking care of you today” he straightened his hand into my direction. I shook it and couldn’t get over how soft and big they are ,,why don’t you follow me to my station and we’ll get to work, sounds good?”

Before I could start my answer he already stood up from the chair ,,yup sounds great!” he smiled at me once again and led me to a different room.

His work room was no different than the lobby- dark and fancy looking. The nerves that were rooting inside of me were showing more and more. I started to play with the hem of my skirt and balancing from one leg to another.

,,Okay so you can make yourself comfortable while I pull up the project from my shelf. Where’d you like to get the tattoo again?”

,,Right under my collarbone. It’s cute and minimalistic so I thought it’ll be a good idea you know” I tried to keep the conversation going.

,,I got ya. Do you have any other tattoos or is it your first one?” He asked while preparing the equipment.

,,No, it’s my first one. I’ve always wanted one so now that I’m finally able to I decided to fuck it and come over here. Now that I’m about to get it done I’m scared” I laughed slightly after realizing that I’m rambling from my nerves.

Matt offered me a soft smile and got closer to me. He started to slide the straps of my top and bra to get a better access to my collarbone. His hands were slightly grazing over my skin and the rings he was wearing left a cold feeling over me. A breath got stuck in my throat at his action, but I tried to cover it up with a cough.

,,Alright, I’m just going to put a stencil on your skin so there’s nothing to worry about. Just try not to move to much, alright sweetheart?” He spoke softly while clearing my skin with an antibacterial gel. His voice as smooth as butter. I wonder if his tongue would also be this smooth on my pu-

,,Earth to y/n, are you okay? I asked if you’re ready for me to start tattooing you?”

,,I- yeah you can start please” I looked away from him, my cheeks burning from the image that my mind just put me in.

,,thank you, I’m just gonna get into it, if you need a break just let me know. First tattoos are always scary. Been there, done that”

He put his left hand dangerously close to my boobs. He had to stretch the skin for a better access, but it still made me wet. The veins that ran through his hands were right at my sight now and I couldn’t get enough of looking at them.

That’s when I felt it. The sensation of a needle with ink being stabbed into my skin. To my surprise the pain was not the only thing I could feel. There was also something else, was it a pleasure? I moaned at the two sensations mixing together and my eyes widened.

,,Sh sh shhh, you’re doing so good princess, so good for me” Matt whispered- almost whimpered- the praises to me. I could feel the hand that was just holding my skin crawl down to my thigh, really close to my dripping core since my skirt as ridden up. He started rubbing small circles on my leg and his other hand was tattooing me like nothing was happening. Like the sexual tension and filthy activity and thoughts were absent.

I could help myself though. I kept squirming in my seat and groaning every time he pressed the needle into my skin.

,,I think I should distract you from the tattooing. A good orgasm would do it for you, wouldn’t it baby? Do I need to touch you or can you cum just from the pain? I know you’re enjoying it, you’re just a little slut”

,,I mmmmm, please touch me Matt, please” I whined and looked straight into his eyes.

,,Good girl, asking me so nicely. How can I say no to such a pretty girl” he smirked darkly and his hand started going further under my skirt, finally reaching my dripping core.

,,Really? No underwear? Such a whore, you’re practically begging to be fucked. Now, you’ll let me finish the tattoo for the next 10 minutes and don’t you dare to cum. Understood?”

,,Yes sir” my mind was already going foggy and him slightly rubbing against my pussy, so when he put two of his digits into me and I let out a loud moan, he wasn’t surprised at all.

The 10 minutes felt like hours. Matt kept mindless thrusting his long fingers inside of me while being focused on his work. Not cumming was a real challenge to me considering that a wet dream of a man was sitting in front of me and touching my body.

,,Okay, and you’re all done. Normally I’d give you a mirror to see the tattoo right away but I’m so desperate to make you come so you’ll have to live in a mystery for a bit longer” with that being said he removed his fingers from me and licked them clean.

Before I could even say a word, his face was already pressed to my pussy, eating me out as his nose perfectly bumped into his clit.

I was a moaning mess. My hands made their way to his hair, pulling him deeper into me. He was like a starving man that hasn’t eaten for the past week. As my orgasm was approaching I closed my legs around his head, definitely cutting his access to air. It was so unbelievably hot, especially since his eyes never left mine. It only took him a few more licks before I was squirting all over his face and the chair I was sitting in.

,,SHIT I’m so sorry oh my lord I didn’t mea-“ I was cut off by his lips being pressed to mine, tasting myself off of his tongue.

,,no need to be sorry sweetheart, that was the sexiest thing I have ever seen” he gave me a cheeky wink and pressed his lips to mine once again.

,,I’ve got a deal for you. I get to fuck you right now and you can walk out with a free tattoo and my number. How does that sound hmmm?”

I actually couldn’t believe my ears, but who I was to resist a hot man who wants me? So I wasted no time and started rubbing his bulge through his pants, as a sign that he can do whatever he wants to me.

,,that’s what I wanted to see” he groaned at my action and placed his hands under my shirt. His palms playing with my boobs and twisting my them.

He definitely noticed that it’s my sensitive spot because soon he was taking my shirt off and throwing it across the room, his plump lips attacking my nipples.

The feeling was unbelievable, but I couldn’t help but want more. I took the matter into my own hands and started to unbuckle his pants, taking it off right with his boxers.

,,you’re a needy slut holy shit. If you want to act like this then fine. I’ll fuck you like one”

The next thing I know is that I was turned around and my whole body was pressed into one of the big windows. It was already getting dark and the studio was on the second floor, but it didn’t change the fact that the street was still busy and if someone looks up, they can easily see what’s going on here.

It only thrilled me more though. I swear Matt was making me learn so much about myself tonight.

His hands found their place on my body, one was on my hips when the other one wrapped right around my neck. The hem of his shirt was in between his teeth and his glasses were slightly fogged.

Wasting no time, he pushed his dick into me, stretching my walls to an unbelievable level. I let out a scream, but he paid no mind to this and immediately started thrusting deep inside of me.

,,I know you like it rough so take it like a good girl. Take the pain of my cock drilling into you. What would all of those people think if they saw you right now? They’d probably take you for a slut and they wouldn’t be wrong”

I couldn’t say anything at that point. All of this was too much for me to think straight and all that was on my mind was that I was already close. Matt could feel me clenching around his cock and brought his hand to rub my clit.

His peace never slowed down and before I knew it, I was cumming all over his dick. His thrust didn’t stop after this thought. He kept going and going until he reached his high and came on my back.

We were both panting from exhaustion and bliss. I couldn’t help but let out a slight chuckle at the whole situation.

,,So, now that you fucked me senseless, can I get your number that you promised me so we can go one a date?”

The silence was broken by our laughter.

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Tattoo artist Matt has finally made an appearance!!! Next up we have that youtuber dating thingy so bare with me😚

Not proofread sorry!!!

Tag list (lmk if you wanna be on it!!!!): @st7rnioioss

[marvel-snape-writes]

just an idea - a situation where you have never referred to severus by name (only professor snape), and him going feral for you when you do say it in a one on one setting, if you catch my vibe 🙈

Watch Your Mouth

Snape x original female character

18+ smuuuuuuuutty

3.7+ words

Thank you to whoever requested this, I hope you enjoy it! 🫶

The marking of his students’ papers was growing monotonous and never-ending for the Potion’s Master. Even now cursing himself for the way he would always insist on himself to go through each and every paragraph of potion ingredients with a fine tooth comb. He muttered to himself as his eyes skimmed the text, then his eyebrow arched as he found himself impressed with a particular piece of work. He completed his first pile of books and then moved onto the next, huffing as he pushed one pile away and brought one closer.

A knock sounded upon his classroom door whilst he opened the first student’s book and his eyes briefly glanced over to it.

If they really want me, they’ll knock again, he thought to himself.

They did.

He exhaled slowly, almost irritably, and looked up properly this time, speaking loud enough so that his voice would carry to the door, “Come in,” He then mumbled under his breath, “If you really must.”

“Sorry to disturb you, Professor,” The voice spoke as a tall, dark haired woman entered the room without a moment of hesitation, “Oh, marking in your dinner hour?”

“My students appear to apply fifty fifty to either of the following; they simply lack common sense and therefore I need to doublecheck their pathetic attempts at stringing a sentence together or they host a little too much knowledge in that their writings are so… pointlessly long when they really could have summed it up in one or two paragraphs,” Snape spoke in a very matter-of-fact tone, “Either way meaning that I have to spend endless hours doing this.” He gestured toward the several piles of student books.

“And I assume your face tells them all that without you having to open your mouth.” She bit her lip to hide a grin.

Snape remained silent, jotting down something with his quill as he glanced back and forth over the written text in front of him.

“Nice candles in this dark dungeon, Professor,” She commented as she glanced around at the many lit candles scattered about the room, “Have you got enough of them?”

“They are to ward off unwanted visitors.” Severus replied bluntly.

“Oh, you don't need candles to do that.” She mumbled under her breath, her eyes still looking around the room.

“Was there something you needed from me, Miss Eleanor, or have you just come here to simply distract me from my work?” Snape asked in a flat tone, growing irritated by watching Eleanor wandering around his dungeon classroom.

“I just thought I'd drop by…” She was now behind him, “Since you have barely acknowledged my existence since… that night.”

“Forgive me if I have been a little invested in finding out exactly what level my fifth years are at prior to them taking their O.W.L.s.” He fought not to break character, though her words did cause a slight stir in him.

“You say the word and I will leave you be,” She placed a hand on his shoulder, “Relax, Professor.” She said with a gentle squeeze over his cloak, knowing full well he was the last person to relax in a situation like this, especially not on command.

Snape huffed quietly under his breath and pushed the books to one side, staying quiet for a few long moments until he felt Eleanor’s hand leave his shoulder, “Alright!” He spoke rather louder than intended, “Alright, I am sure this marking can… wait.” He turned his head to look up at her stood at the side of him.

“Wait for what?” She played dumb.

“What ever it is that you came here for.” He spoke in an oddly timid tone, almost as if there was a hint of fear within it.

“And what do you think I came here for?” She bit her lip, now standing with her hands on her hips.

“Do not play games with me,” Snape warned dominantly as he stood up, facing her, “I cannot stress how much I urge you to not-”

“Not play games with Professor Snape, hm?” She finished his sentence for him, her head now tilted upward as he towered over her.

“Let… me… finish,” He emphasised each word more than the last, gritting his teeth.

“Oh, I know how you like to finish, Professor…” Her lips curled into a smirk, “In my mouth.”

Snape’s throat suddenly became very dry and he hoped his face didn't look as warm as it felt. His hands both balled into fists and he struggled with how to respond, blinking hard as his mind helplessly transported itself back to that night. When he dared to look at her again, this wasn't helped by her saying,

“I can still feel the marks of your fingers on the back of my neck…” As she reached over one of her shoulders and lightly rubbed her fingertips back and forth over the red raised skin on her neck that his frantic fingers had caused whilst trying to hold her head in place that night.

“I… did not…” He cleared his throat sheepishly, trying to push down the knowing that her words’ effect would very soon show itself in his trousers, “D-Did not invite you in here to… to make mockery of me… in my own classroom…” It was as if trying to string a sentence together was suddenly a huge task.

“And, yet, you do not ask me to leave… Severus.” She spoke in a tauntingly seductive tone.

Though the way she had spoken would've made anything sound appealing, it was her calling him by his name that caught him off guard. Not once had she ever addressed him as anything other than ‘Professor Snape’ or just simply ‘Professor’, not even during that night. He didn't know if it was the shock of her calling him by his name and the knowing that she would be slightly afraid of how he would react to not being addressed by his usual title, or whether it was the intimacy of her now speaking to him on first name basis — something only those who he really let in would do in confidence.

His lips were still parted in brief shock as their eyes met again and he felt his heartbeat throb in his throat, urging him to respond to her new daring confidence of calling him by his name for the first time. He raised one of his large hands and cupped her cheek in it, both of them now as eager as each other for their lips to be pressed together.

“Do not think I forget how you pleaded,” She breathed against his lips, now standing on her tiptoes and placing her hands against his chest to secure herself in order to deliver a more firm kiss to his lips, “How you begged, Severus.”

“Watch your mouth.” Severus snarled against her lips, kissing her harder.

“What, watch my mouth now?” She asked in between kisses, “Or when it's filled with your cock?”

Severus felt a shiver down his spine and into the pit of his stomach. His cock jolted in his trousers, earning a shaky breath from his lips. Both of their eyes opened briefly, but the look on Severus’ face took Eleanor’s breath from her completely; she had never seen such want mixed with such a furious expression. Before she even had chance to question what was on his mind, it was soon answered for her when his lips crashed back down on hers at the same time his hands gripped her hips.

“Oh…” She gasped but it was barely audible, hearing a load of clattering on the floor whilst eagerly kissing him back and then quite literally allowing him to sweep her off her feet and place her on his desk.

Once upon it, arms snaked around his neck, it became rather apparent that he had swept all of his marked and unmarked books to the floor in one desperate motion. His hands switched to her thighs and he lifted them up, gesturing for her to hook them around his waist as they devoured one another’s lips.

“Mm.. are you sure you don’t want me on my knees again, Severus?” She spoke quickly in between kisses, her fingers tangled in his black hair whilst his were frantically trying to grab at the buttons of his trousers.

“No,” He answered almost immediately, popping the button and pulling down the zipper of his trousers desperately and inhaling shakily against her lips, “I’m going to fuck- you- senseless,” He emphasised each word with a harder kiss to her lips each time and then speaking lowly against them, “I suppose you’ve earned it.”

“Oh, earned it, have I?” Eleanor grinned, lightly grazing her fingernails against the nape of his neck and kissing him with parted lips as he began to whimper into her mouth, “Is this what a girl has to do to ‘earn’ Severus Snape’s cock?” She dug her nails in a little harder, “Just suck him off a few times?”

“That’s certainly a good start, Princess.” Severus growled against her lips, reaching under the hem of her skirt and tearing her underwear down her legs as their tongues tangled.

“I’m no fucking Princess, Severus.” Eleanor tugged at his bottom lip and dipped her hands into the front of his open trousers, repeatedly caressing her fingertips back and forth over his hardened length straining against the material of his boxers.

Severus hissed from the feeling and narrowed his eyebrows, already feeling precum seeping into the material as Eleanor practically jerked him off through them with the pressure she was now applying with her palm. If this had been the first time they had ever gotten intimate with each other, that would have been enough to get him off completely, and he hated that she was aware of that, too. Now he had built somewhat of a resilience to her touch, mainly her lips, causing him to last more than all of three pathetic seconds. Still, he didn't quite fancy his chances with the aroused state she had managed to get him in, in impressive timing.

“Enough.” He spoke lowly, pushing his own hand now between her legs, “In my classroom, you are whatever I say you are.”

Eleanor’s hand returned to her side and her legs parted more the higher his hand traveled, eventually gasping when she felt his fingertips lightly brush against her. She instinctively leaned up to press another kiss to his lips, purring against them as he continued to circle his fingertips.

“That’s right…” He whispered against her lips, “Just because I haven’t fucked you yet, doesn't mean this doesn't belong to me.”

“Fuck… me, Severus.” She gasped shakily, wrapping her legs around him and trying to bring him closer with her heels against his bottom. One of his fingers pushed inside her and curled each time she pleaded for him, making him smirk against her lips when she began to moan.

Without barely a second thought, he removed his hand completely and pushed her legs further apart, fumbling in the crotch of his underwear before thrusting himself forward in one, heavy motion. Eleanor gasped in pleasure and Severus gritted his teeth, exhaling shakily as he repositioned his hands on her thighs. Their eyes met for a brief moment before their lips smacked back together, desperately kissing one another as his desk began to move beneath them from his movements.

“Fuck, how do you feel even bigger than you do in my mouth…” She breathed against his lips, tangling her fingers in his hair.

Severus didn't answer. Instead, he bit down on her bottom lip harshly and earned a small squeal, speeding up his thrusts as he gripped onto her thighs harder. He pulled her a little further off the edge of the desk and moaned against her lips from the feeling of her legs tightening around him.

“Wh… where are we going?!” She gasped when she felt Severus lift her, now holding her around him as he spun them both around, “What’s this, a change of scenery from your desk to your board?” She asked through a muffled laugh as her back thudded against the display board fixed to the wall at the side of his desk.

“If you’re not a Princess, then don't expect to be fucking treat like one.” He grunted, pinning her against the board with his hips as his arms secured themselves around her.

“Mm.. yes, Professor.” Eleanor grinned and snaked her arms around his neck.

Her lips gradually parted as Severus’ relentless hips continued to slam upward against hers, her head falling slightly and her lips landing upon his neck. She suckled on the skin briefly before breaking the contact to gasp in pleasure from the impressive motions of Severus’ somewhat questionably inexperienced hips.

“Christ, if I’d have known you’d be this good to fuck, I'd have done it weeks ago…” Severus grumbled, feeling his cock pulsating in delight with each movement.

“Too much time spent with your cock in my mouth, hm?” She teased him, lifting her head so she could kiss his lips.

“I…” Severus swallowed hard, the images of her knelt in front of him now flooding his brain.

“This mouth?” She kissed him again, “How does it feel to kiss the mouth that has contained your cock so many times, hm?”

“Sh—Shut up.” He grunted.

“Do my lips taste of—”

“I said…” Severus butted in, inhaling sharply though clenched teeth. Though, he did think about it, only for a short while before their lips were pressed against one another again, “Shut. Up.”

Eleanor began to rock her hips down against his, creating a slight banging noise against the wall as the board behind her began to hit against it with each movement. The beads of sweat began to gather upon Severus’ forehead as they continued to kiss and moan in sync, surprising Eleanor at how quickly her orgasm began to approach. Unaware of how close Severus was, she squeezed her legs around his waist, digging her heels into his bottom and urging for him to keep going, as if her world would stop if he did.

“O-Oh, Prof…” Her eyes rolled back in pleasure as she squeezed them shut, “Severus!” She half cried out in pleasure as her climax fell victim to his thrusts before he clasped a hand across her mouth in an attempt to quieten her, “Sev, Sev, Sev…”

“Mm… yes?” He asked wearily, pressing their lips together but growing dizzy from his own orgasm fast approaching and Eleanor continuing to address and moan at him by his first name certainly not helping.

“Do you enjoy the taste of your own cock against my lips?” She asked, smirking tauntingly against his lips.

Severus broke the kiss immediately and pulled back, now pressing his lips so tightly together that they turned white. He stopped moving his hips, careless of whether he was cutting the ride of her orgasm short, and unhooked her legs from around his waist, making her feet land back on the floor.

“On your knees,” He glared darkly, “Now.”

“Severus…” Eleanor inhaled shakily, her eyes daring to look up into his black ones.

“Knees.” He terrifyingly emphasised it this time, grumbling under his breath, “I want to cum.”

Eleanor nodded quickly and began to kneel in front of him, almost afraid that she would reach her orgasm again just from the way he was speaking to her. She fluttered her eyelashes innocently and parted her lips, flattening her tongue for him as their eyes met. Severus stepped closer to her and cleared his throat, glancing down at his angrily red length still glistening with the remanence of Eleanor’s orgasm, also a droplet of precum threatening to drip from the tip and land upon her tongue.

“Good girl,” Severus exhaled deeply once Eleanor had leaned forward to push the tip of his cock into her mouth, gently suckling on the head tenderly whilst making sure to massage her tongue against the underside.

“Mm, mm…” She made soft noises each time more pushed into her mouth, feeling his hands beginning to entangle themselves in her hair.

Severus’ head gradually tilted back more and more as his length slipped further into her mouth and he gripped her hair slightly tighter when the tip of his length touched the back of her throat. Eleanor raised one of her hands and wrapped it around the base of his cock, starting to bob her head back and forth over him and following the movements of her head with her fist.

“Now…” Severus exhaled shakily, trying to talk through the moan taunting his lips, “I ask you a similar question, you little brat…” He felt his breath hitch from her actions, “Do you enjoy the taste of my cock with you splattered all over it?”

Before Eleanor even had a chance to reply, he swatted her hand away from him and firmed his grip on her head. Eleanor gazed up at him with a willing expression and tightened her lips around him, the head of his length now lingering in her mouth as she teasingly traced the tip of her tongue back and forth over the leaking slit. That bolt of pleasure was enough for Severus to begin thrusting himself back and forth into her mouth, throwing his head back with painfully quiet shouts of bliss; afraid he would bring too much attention to his classroom if he did so, but unsure how long he could keep himself quiet. One of his hands slipped to the back of her neck and his fingertips began to re-raise the reddened lines on the back of her neck again.

“Fuck, fucking… fuck,” He grunted, his hair covering his face now as it whipped in time with his thrusts, “Agh!”

Eleanor’s eyes began to water from the force of his hips and the constant bounce of the tip against the back of her throat each time. Thankfully, she was used to his liking of her mouth, so his size wasn't that much of a surprise.

His hands began to tremble, hers now pressed against his thighs to keep herself still, and he felt the all-too-familiar warmth in his stomach rapidly begin to rise. His moans caught in his throat and he suddenly stopped his hips, leaving only the head of his cock in her mouth again and weakly gesturing down to her;

“Fu… fucking make me cum…” He could barely speak, his toes already curling in his shoes in anticipation.

Eleanor immediately obeyed his command as if it was second nature at this point and began to suck on the head whilst her hand frantically pumped up and down his entire length. It wasn't long before his cries of, “Oh, oh, oh-!” quickly developed into sticky warmth landing on her now flat tongue. She gazed up at him with heavy eyes and watched as his face screwed up in pleasure, hands shaking madly in her hair as he struggled to grip onto anything from the ecstasy now coursing through him.

“E-Eleanor, ugh!” He whimpered, now stumbling back slightly and catching himself with his hands weakly gripping the edge of his desk.

“Mmmh…” Eleanor gradually slowed down the movements of her fist but continued to wiggle her tongue against the sensitive ridge, making him twitch madly from the sensitivity of it.

“I-If I open my eyes and find that you have not had the decency to swallow what you caused, I shall have to put a stop to these… encounters.” He spoke still out of breath, leaning back against the desk as his heavy eyes opened.

He was met with the sight of Eleanor still on her knees and licking her lips before they settled into a proud grin, their eyes meeting. The sight alone sent a shiver down Severus’ spine, and he feared his cock would never soften if that image was forever in his mind.

“I hope this has allowed the encounters to continue, then.” She bit her lip, getting to her feet.

“It does make my dinner hour go rather quickly, and my students’ markings may suffer, but…” He sighed softly, watching as she stood.

Eleanor began to nonchalantly tuck him back into his underwear and fasten up his trousers, arching a brow as she looked up at him again, “But?”

“I suppose I can make an acceptation for something like this to take place again.” He replied in a calm tone, trying to ignore the feeling of her hands upon him still and trying to distract himself by looking at the time, “But, I am afraid I am going to have to ask yourself to leave my classroom… for now, at least.”

“Don’t strain yourself, Professor…” Eleanor jokingly rolled her eyes and fixed her dress properly, walking over to the door, “It is not good for a man of your age.” She giggled.

“Actually…” Severus spoke, his footsteps evidently close behind her and making her silently fear a loud verbal repercussion of her daring words. She stopped at the door and turned around to face him, raising her eyebrows, “Drop ‘Professor’. I liked it when you called me ‘Severus’.” He admitted.

“Oh?” Eleanor smirked, “I couldn't tell.” She spoke sarcastically.

“I would tell you to watch your mouth, Miss Eleanor, but I am actually rather fond of doing that myself.” He swallowed hard, his lip twitching.

“Mm…” She grinned, placing her hand on the door handle, “Have a good rest of your day.”

“And you, too.” Severus nodded.

“In fact, one more thing…” Eleanor quickly turned around and bent down, picking up the torn underwear that had been carelessly tossed to the floor from before and then standing up straight again. Severus’ eyes narrowed and his breathing suddenly quivered when he felt her finger push into the waistband of his trousers, then underwear, pulling it away from his skin slightly and tucking her underwear into the front of them, “This way, I can always be wrapped around your cock… Severus.” She spoke in a seductively smooth tone, quickly pecking his lips.

Severus barely had time to take a breath before she had left his classroom, let alone form a response. Instead, he watched her leave from the doorway; once again on his own, once again counting down the seconds until their next encounter, and once again visibly aroused.

---

Thank you for reading! ♥️

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[spookyserenades]

Trouvaille - Chapter Eleven

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; 20k

Trouvaille Masterlist

Trouvaille playlist

Updates on the 7th of each month

Hi my dear friends! I hope you are all happy and healthy. Welcome to the newest chapter of Trouvaille! In this chapter, there's angst, fluff, and a return to a bit of spiciness (warning you now!) Things will be picking up after this update, and I'm super excited to explore more of this story with you all. As always, I love hearing all of your feedback, answering your questions, and in general screaming about the boys with you. Please enjoy this chapter, and let me know what you think!

Previous Chapter // Next Chapter

“Oh, perfect,” Y/N sighed, feeling Yoongi cringe at the sound of the slider slamming shut, shaking the walls a bit. Poking her head back outside, she caught Seokjin’s attention as he was handing out Smarties to a gaggle of young boys in superhero costumes. “Honey, do you mind staying out here for a bit? I have a fight to de-escalate.”

The jaguar hybrid nodded solemnly, pity rounding out the corners of his sunset stare. Yoongi, adjusting the stiff collar of his dress shirt, made a move to follow Y/N to the parlor, but she stopped him with a light hand on his bicep. 

“Can you stay with Seokjin? Just in case he gets overwhelmed, and I think it’s best if I try to feel out the vibe myself, for now,” Y/N asked, Yoongi melting over her pleading tone. “Besides, you should show off your costume. Looks good on you.”

With that, Yoongi cocked a brow, tongue flicking out to wet his lips, slinking back to the open front door. 

“You say that about all of my outfits, sweetheart,” Yoongi called over his shoulder with a smirk, taking her former spot on the porch steps beside Seokjin. 

Comforted by the fact that Yoongi didn’t seem as distressed as she originally read on his expression, she placed the pointed witch hat she was wearing on the staircase before heading towards the parlor. She didn’t think the hat was appropriate considering the situation. 

The citrusy, pine scent of copal incense filled the house thickly, a stick of it burning in pretty much each room for Samhain, but at the moment it was turning her stomach rather than clearing her head. The shouting had stopped since Jeongguk had stormed out, and Y/N couldn’t even begin to fathom where he thought he was going. Further, as she hurried down the hall into the spookily decorated parlor, Y/N’s concern for Hoseok overwhelmed everything else. Between his uneasiness around Namjoon, and the fact that he was never one to let a snide remark or what have you provoke him into an actual fight, she was worried about him. 

As she entered the room, the first thing she noticed was Namjoon by one of the windows, his back to her and his forehead in his palm, ears turned backwards. Scanning the room, littered with candy wrappers and Halloween party favors, she located Hoseok, who was sitting in the leather recliner, quite pale and quite still, like he saw a ghost. 

“What’s the problem this time?” Y/N cut to the chase, sweeping up cellophane from salted caramels on the coffee table, surprisingly maintaining a calm demeanor. At least the fight didn’t escalate to physical violence. “Are you two alright?”

No one spoke, and the corny tune of “Monster Mash” from outside filled up the silence comically. Hoseok– still in his pirate costume– appeared like a fox hybrid statue on the recliner, and blinked at Y/N, the color slowly returning to his face as she approached him. Her hand outstretched, she reached to push some of his wavy mahogany hair out of his face, his forehead a tad clammy as her fingertips brushed it. 

“Joonie, what happened? Weren’t you guys just watching Scream? What’s with the yelling?” Y/N chose to question Namjoon, considering Hoseok was still locked in some kind of trance. Maybe he had too many caramels and was feeling sick. 

Namjoon turned, tail literally between his legs, and guilt all over his handsome face once he met Y/N’s eyes. Adjusting the neckline of his cable knit gray sweater, he cleared his throat uncomfortably. 

“Uh, truthfully… I don’t know what started it. Jeongguk took offense to something that was said, and things kind of spiraled out of control from there,” Namjoon offered up, his voice gritty and strained. 

She could only thank the sky that Taehyung was up in his room, editing photos on her laptop she had loaned him, and Jimin was out back with Vista. It was comforting that those two weren’t involved, considering Taehyung had just begun to come around to some of the other hybrids, and Jimin tended to hold grudges over even petty arguments for days. 

“Okay, well… I mean, Jeongguk makes rude remarks constantly. It must have been something personal to warrant him barrelling outside,” Y/N pressed, though immediately regretted it once the guilt on Namjoon’s face became even more cloaked in the shadow of it. 

“I–” Namjoon began, taking a step towards Y/N and Hoseok, warily gazing at the latter as he was abruptly cut off. 

“Namjoon wasn’t a part of it. He was trying to calm Jeongguk down and break it up,” Hoseok interrupted loudly, as if he just remembered he had a body his spirit was inhabiting, and a voice, too. 

Taken aback, both Y/N and Namjoon exchanged looks of bewilderment, the wolf hybrid’s shoulders relaxing downwards several inches when Hoseok cleared his name. It was shocking that Hoseok actually came to Namjoon’s defense, despite his issue with wolf hybrids and the fact that he implicated himself as the instigator. 

“Hoseok?” Y/N urged gently, watching him squirm in his seat as he finally made eye contact with her. “What happened?”

Hoseok coughed uncomfortably into his fist, his ears drooping to the sides, his free hand tugging at the red sash tied around his waist. He looked like he’d rather stand in front of a moving vehicle than fess up, but Y/N couldn’t go about repairing damage until she knew what had unfolded in her absence. 

“I really didn’t mean to set him off like that. Things were pretty normal, then he and Namjoon started talking about ghosts and shit. You know I don’t really believe in all that crap, so I was just joking around but I guess I hit a nerve,” Hoseok’s throat was sort of scratchy sounding, hauling himself off of the recliner and pushing a hand through his hair. “Sorry. I didn’t want to ruin Halloween for you…”

“Oh, don’t worry about that, Hoseok. It’s still early in the evening, and I think it’s salvageable,” Y/N shook her head, knowing that Hoseok certainly didn’t have malicious intentions, and he clearly felt badly about causing a ruckus. “I’ll go find him, try to get him back into the house. Why don’t you two go out front with Seokjin and Yoongi? I’m sure the kids will love your costume, Hoseok, and our house has been popular this year. Those two could probably use a couple of extra hands, anyways.”

“You’re not mad?�� Hoseok ignored her suggestion, speaking incredulously, missing the look of dude just go with it Namjoon was sending him several feet away. 

Again, Y/N shook her head. Fights would happen from time to time, there was no way of getting around it, and considering there was no physical violence involved, there wasn’t a reason for her to be angry with Hoseok. 

“No, honey. I’m going to talk to him though, and hopefully you two can work things out once he cools down,” Y/N put a hand on Hoseok’s shoulder blade, urging him towards the hall to the foyer with Namjoon hot on their heels. The sooner she found Jeongguk, the better, and she hoped that he wasn’t taking his frustrations out on Jimin in the backyard. “It’s a beautiful night, it’ll be nice for you two to get some air. I’ll come find you after I check in on Jeongguk.”

“Be careful, Y/N. Don’t let him talk to you abrasively, even if he’s upset,” Namjoon stopped her by grabbing her shoulder firmly once Hoseok hurried outside to sit beside Seokjin, the wolf hybrid’s expression serious and concerned. 

“Don’t worry too much, Joonie. I’m sure everything will be okay,” Y/N soothed, Namjoon cocking an eyebrow as skepticism washed over him. It looked like he desperately wanted to follow her to the back yard, but he reluctantly went out on the porch to lean over the railing next to Yoongi, who was handing out lollipops to a set of twins. 

Before she traipsed back through the house to head into the backyard, Y/N snapped a picture of the four hybrids on the porch with her phone with a tiny smile, all of them blissfully unaware that she had a secret folder in her camera roll containing candids of each of them. As she made her way through the kitchen, she giggled at the picture of Yoongi she had taken while he was cursing at a sheet pan of burnt vegetables he had forgotten to pull out of the oven. 

With a sigh, she left her phone on the kitchen island and shrugged on her denim jacket hanging by the slider, pushing the cracked-open door and letting the chill autumn air shroud her. Recently, Jimin and Taehyung had helped her replace all of the outdoor lighting, so the backyard was illuminated and less haunted looking. In the distance, she could hear the thumping sound of Vista’s hoofs as Jimin took her around some of the lengthy trails around their property. 

It wasn’t very difficult to find Jeongguk. All she had to do was follow her nose, the slightly sweet scent of burning tobacco cutting through the crispness of the night time air. He was over on the covered wooden swing under one of the willow trees positioned outside of the large window in the parlor. His eyes were squeezed shut with a hand massaging his temples, the lit cherry bright orange and making his features glow as a cigarette hung out of his mouth. Y/N knew that he was aware of her approaching, but he made no movement to indicate so. 

Silently, she sat beside the elk hybrid, the swing swaying slightly with her weight, Jeongguk continuing not to acknowledge her presence even when she hummed as her spine hit the padded backrest. As she gazed up at the stars in the sky, she tried her best not to curl into Jeongguk’s warmth inches away. Minutes ticked away, and Jeongguk was still ignoring her, tattooed middle and forefinger prodding away at his right temple. 

“Can I have a drag?” Y/N broke the ice, palms settling over her bare thighs to warm them up. Perhaps the short, twilight colored dress she had worn for her witch costume wasn’t the most season-appropriate choice. 

Wordlessly, and to her great surprise considering she was prepared for him to tell her to piss off, Jeongguk passed the cigarette over, eyes snapping open and looking down through his eyelashes to study the side of her face. Gratefully, Y/N took the cigarette, fingertips lightly brushing his, carefully bringing it to her lips and taking an indulgent drag. The Marlboro reds Jeongguk smoked were harsh, the tobacco tasted strong and fiery hot, and it had her lightly coughing as the smoke burned her lungs. Immediately, Jeongguk snatched the burning cigarette away with a grunt.

“That was a bad idea. Seokjin is going to come out here and smack me around,” Jeongguk muttered, using his left hand to thump on Y/N’s back as she coughed into her fist. “Yoongi I can take. But the jaguar? Definitely stronger than he looks…”

“I’m f-fine, oof, Jeongguk, don’t hit so hard, you’re gon-na knock a rib out of place,” Y/N wheezed, leaning away from his harsh strikes. “You should try some of my m-menthols. Those reds are nasty.”

Jeongguk halted his pounding on her back, leaning his elbows forward on his knees and cradling his head in his hands, as if he had a blinding migraine. Concerned, Y/N mirrored his action, eyeing how his antlers had darkened over the past few weeks in the absence of his velvet. 

“Are you going to tell me what happened?” Y/N murmured gently, wondering why he seemed to be in so much pain. Did he drink too much of the alcoholic Butterbeer she had made earlier that evening?

“Does it even matter to you?” Jeongguk shot back, a bit of bite to his smoky voice. His response made Y/N grit her teeth– she thought him and her were past this. 

“Of course it does. How could you think it doesn’t matter to me?” Y/N curled her hands into fists, staring daggers into the side of Jeongguk’s skull. 

“I don’t know. You and the fox are so close, I’m assuming you’ve taken his side and came out here to call me an asshole,” Jeongguk turned his head to meet Y/N’s eyes, the onyx shade of his pupils intimidating and darkened with contempt. “He can pretty much say whatever he wants, he’s your favorite.”

“What the fuck are you even talking about, Jeongguk? I care about all of you just the same. I don’t take sides, I don’t have favorites, and I want to fix whatever the problem is. You know, I’m finding it odd that I’m having to resolve conflict between two grown men,” Y/N ranted, feeling like she was just about fed up. Seriously, they were all older than her, shouldn’t they be able to hash out their own arguments?

There was a brief moment where they both stared at each other with intensity, anger written across both of their faces, and Y/N wasn’t sure who was going to break first. A muscle in Jeongguk’s jaw pulsed in agitation, momentarily breaking eye contact to stub out his cigarette on the bottom of his combat boots. 

“You don’t have favorites? Yeah, I’m sure,” Jeongguk muttered, mostly to himself. This, however, angered Y/N even more, but before she could open her mouth to deny the accusation once again, he continued. “You know what? I don’t even care. You didn’t even need to come out here, I wasn’t going to run away.”

“Where is this ‘favorites’ thing coming from? Is that what your argument with Hoseok was about? He claimed it was a fight over paranormal subject matter,” Y/N tried her best to compose herself, though she felt that she was seconds away from throttling the elk hybrid and Hoseok. 

“What do you think?” Jeongguk rolled his eyes, leaning back on the swing, his annoyance seeming to deflate second by second. He could probably smell how pissed Y/N was becoming. “Like I said, I don’t care. I just told him to shut the fuck up about… whatever, I told him to shut up, and he wouldn’t, so I came out here before my head could split.”

“Hoseok likes to make jokes, he probably didn’t mean anything by what he said, but I’ll still run it by him later that I’m not cool with him spreading around the idea that I favor one of you over another. Okay?” Y/N took a few seconds to collect her thoughts before responding to an increasingly uncomfortable looking Jeongguk. Clearly, she wasn’t ever going to know exactly what Hoseok had said, judging by both of them skirting around the issue.

Jeongguk went back to ignoring her, now massaging the area above his eyebrow piercing, his lips pursed and eyes fluttering shut once more. Shuddering with a sudden icy breeze that rolled by, Y/N wondered why she could still feel electricity in the air even though their heated exchange had ended. 

“You mentioned that you had a headache, want me to get you some Advil?” Y/N leaned closer to Jeongguk, close enough to smell the earthiness of his black leather jacket, the muskiness of his oaky body wash, and the smoke that constantly clung to him. The masculine scent was enough to have her head going a bit fuzzy, embarrassingly enough to admit. 

Jeongguk grunted, one of his ears flickering rapidly, his posture becoming stiffer as Y/N inched into his proximity closer than ever. 

“I’m fine, Y/N. Go back inside, it’s too cold out here for you to be wearing that little dress,” Jeongguk gave her a once-over as he spoke, his voice rough and scratchy.

“I’m not cold! Let me get you that Advil, you look like you’re really in pain, sweets,” Y/N attempted to cover up her blushing when he made the comment about her dress by making a move to get off of the swing, but a hand grasped her wrist before she could get too far. 

With the force of the hand tugging on her wrist, Y/N was forced backwards, ass landing back on the swing harshly and the wind knocked out of her lungs as she found herself nestled up to Jeongguk’s side– pretty much the closest she had ever been to him. Floored, she stared up at Jeongguk with owlishly wide eyes, her line of sight landing on the lip ring sucked into his mouth and his slightly crooked cupid’s bow. 

“What did you just call me? ‘Sweets’?” Jeongguk’s voice was abruptly saccharine, and Y/N was spellbound, finally letting herself curl into the warmth of his body and melt. “Have I ever been sweet to you?”

This question had her head spinning. The way he was speaking to her, in a lilting, almost cooing way, was entirely new to Y/N and out of character for Jeongguk. Truthfully, the term of endearment fell out of her mouth so naturally she didn’t even register she had done it in the first place, but Jeongguk certainly did. Still blinking at him like a three week old kitten, Jeongguk arched an eyebrow expectantly.

“Yes,” Y/N squeaked, honestly forgetting the question he had asked her mere seconds ago, too busy drowning in the darkness of his irises. 

“Yes, what?” Jeongguk prodded, cocking his head slightly as he lazily draped his arm across the swing’s backrest behind her. Stunned, Y/N used all of her might to will her mental facilities into functioning properly again. “Yes, you think I’m sweet?”

“Y-yes, I do. In your own way, you can be s-sweet,” Y/N stuttered, heart beginning to race in her chest. How did they get there? The push-and-pull between them was mind-bending, confusing, exhilarating. She had to look away from him in order to screw her head back on straight.

“Hmm? Like when?” With her heart in her throat, Y/N sat dumbstruck as she realized he still had her wrist in his grip, disinterestedly sweeping his eyes over her fingertips and knuckles. “Tell me.”

“Uh… when you helped with the cleansings and banishing. That night when I collapsed, and you took care of m-me. Telling me how to handle the situation between Joonie and Tae,” Y/N listed off the top of her head miraculously, though she had dozens of instances where Jeongguk had revealed his softer side to her. 

Jeongguk paused, finding her eyes again, like he was trying to identify the colors of her soul, slowly releasing the silver ring hugging his lower lip from his mouth. Y/N’s gaze was fixed on the action, and like a woman possessed, all she could think about was how the silver ring would feel against her own lips. 

The silence was absolutely maddening. Blood was rushing in her ears, and she had a sickly suspicion that he could read her mind about wanting to kiss him. Attempting to pull away a few centimeters in order to not act on her rampant fantasies, Y/N’s breath got stuck in her throat when Jeongguk’s grip on her wrist tightened bruisingly. Hissing, she arched into him, her free hand flailing out to grip the collar of his jacket. 

“Jeongguk, you’re hurting me,” Y/N whispered, watching with awe as his eyes rounded out in alarm and he loosened his hold immediately. “What’s going on with you tonight?”

“Stop worrying about me, please,” Jeongguk looked a bit pained as he vocalized his hoarse plea, the arm he had over the swing backrest landing heavily across her shoulders. “Need you to come here.”

For a heart-stopping moment, she really thought he was going to kiss her, using his arm wrapped around her to haul her into his chest, Y/N using the hand gripping his jacket to brace herself by pressing her palm over his heart. Taking her wrist, he hooked it around the nape of his neck, his other hand flat over her lower back, his head dropped as he buried his face into the base of her throat. The hasty, bold action had her gasping, her fingertips sliding through the longer silken hairs at the nape of his neck. It had been weeks since any of the hybrids scented her, Jimin being the last, and honestly it had slipped her mind that it was a ritual that had to be repeated periodically. The last of Jimin’s mark on her wrist had long since vanished, and the thought of having a fresh one from Jeongguk had her head swimming. 

“Mmm… you’re sweeter, I think,” the elk hybrid spoke over a breath, and Y/N was completely overwhelmed with all things Jeongguk. His scent, his voice and words, the way she felt protected encased in the solid muscles of his chest and arms. “Don’t you? Sweetness?”

Hardly able to formulate a coherent thought, she barely heard a word of what he was mouthing into her neck. No wonder he was so quick to become agitated with Hoseok’s joking around, he had a splitting headache, and was being so forward– he needed to scent her again. 

Taking the opportunity to be as close to him as possible due to the circumstance, Y/N all but crawled into Jeongguk’s lap, swinging a thigh over one of his to straddle it, the hand in his hair carding through the strands more boldly. Grunting gutturally with the press of her weight over him, Jeongguk’s hand moved dangerously low on her hip, making her skin flash with white-hot heat. 

“Fuck, what are you…” Jeongguk groaned, nudging her earlobe with the tip of his nose, his free hand reaching up to grip her chin tightly and move it to the side. With her neck craned, delicate skin of her throat exposed to his penetrating gaze and the brisk night air, a reedy sigh escaped from her parted lips. 

“Bite already,” Y/N egged him on, becoming impatient. She had missed this, the intimate closeness to her boys, and she needed his teeth in her neck more than she needed her next inhale. 

Jeongguk did not reply to her petition, though she swore she felt a slight puff of air against her sensitive skin as he snickered through his nose. Hold tightening on her, his lips descended, the chilly temperature of the silver ring through his lip making her shiver with delight. 

Quaking on top of him, her eyes slid closed as Jeongguk dragged his tongue up from her collarbone to just below her ear, the smooth, rounded sensation of the barbell threaded through his tongue distantly familiar to her. Y/N was able to hold back the whimper that was threatening to tear from the back of her throat, though she could not choke it back when he sunk his teeth into the paper-thin skin of her neck, just below her left ear. The pain of his blunt, though somehow still razor-sharp incisors wasn’t as intense as she remembered it to be the first time, and if anything, it had her collapsing more of her weight onto his sturdy chest. 

She was plunged into the hazy euphoria at light speed, and as soon as his teeth were cutting into her flesh, Y/N could only grip his hair in her fist like it was her only anchor to reality. Breathing heavily, she winced as he pulled his teeth from the puncture wounds, repeating what he had done the first time he scented her; with a lave of his tongue, he pursed his lips, sealing them over the mark and sucking. 

Boneless, Y/N’s chest was heaving into Jeongguk’s as he bruised the skin around the puncture wounds, the sting of his teeth piercing her flesh completely absent once the brush of his tongue cauterized the site. His frame sagged with relief as he cleaned up his mess, droplets of her blood sluggishly rolling down her neck and pooling in the dips of her collar bones. Delirious and wickedly full of a strange, intimate emotion, Y/N snaked her arms around Jeongguk’s neck, hugging him desperately for the very first time. 

As he came to, Y/N fully expected Jeongguk to pry her off of him, and she relished in the remaining seconds she had to hold him. However, to her immense surprise, Jeongguk clasped his forearms together behind her lower back, his nose still tucked into the crook of her neck as he embraced her back. She didn’t know if in her post-scenting foggy haze that she was hallucinating the way he actually held her, but she was too wired with emotion to unpack that thought at all. Slumped against the elk hybrid, she weakly continued to stroke his silky chestnut locks with her fingertips, nuzzling into his sharp collar bones indulgently. 

After a few minutes, her thoughts coming to her more fluidly as the high slipped away, Y/N was beginning to dread pulling away from Jeongguk’s warmth. He was the only thing blocking the teeth-chattering chill, and even then, she felt goosebumps blooming up the bare skin of her calves and thighs. As if sensing this, one of Jeongguk’s roughened palms trailed down to the skin of her outer thigh, covering the cool flesh with his wide hand, a grumble coming from the back of his throat. Once the heat of his palm nearly burned Y/N’s thigh, she stiffened immediately in his arms, pulling away a few breaths to get a look at his face. 

“Go inside, now. Put something warmer on before you hand out more candy,” Jeongguk finally used his grip around her hip to push her up and off of him, and astonishingly, she managed not to topple over and melt into the Earth’s core. 

“Come with me?” Y/N extended her hand out to Jeongguk, not willing to part with him just yet. 

With a soft chuckle, Jeongguk shifted his weight, standing on his own and paying no heed to her outstretched hand. Pouting, she followed his long strides across the backyard, still somewhat reeling from the interaction, the Halloween music from the front porch starting to ring in her ears as they got closer to the house. Studying the back of Jeongguk’s head as they walked towards the patio, she noticed him slow his pace so she could catch up, his chin tilting down as he looked at her. 

“Stop pouting,” Jeongguk smirked, making Y/N’s annoyance with him return. Scoffing at him, she turned her nose up into the air, ditching him and storming away petulantly. 

“Sheesh. You really don’t like not getting your own way, huh?” Jeongguk matched her pace with ease, taking her off guard for the umpteenth time that night by grasping her hand in his, thumb pinching all of her fingers together tightly as he continued on his way. “Bratty.”

“I’m the brat?” Y/N squawked, squeezing Jeongguk’s fingers as hard as she could, though secretly delighted he was actually holding her hand. A giant step forward, in her opinion. “That’s a crock. You’re one of the brattiest men I’ve ever met.”

Jeongguk barked out a wild laugh, throwing his head back with abandon, and Y/N had never seen him look so mirthful. Heart hammering around in her chest again, she composed her face into nonchalance, tugging the elk hybrid into the house.

“Yeah? I thought you said I was sweet? Did you lie to me?” Jeongguk teased, his expression becoming thoughtful as Y/N dropped his hand to shut the slider door, sighing in content as the heat in the house wrapped her up like a blanket.

Choosing to ignore him, Y/N rolled her eyes, moving to the island to pour herself a glass of red wine Yoongi had cracked open earlier in the night. Jeongguk was back to his normal, teasing self, and she had run out of wit to keep up with it for much longer that night. 

“Wouldn’t you be able to tell if I was lying to you?” Y/N countered after a long sip of Cabernet, narrowing her eyes at the elk hybrid hanging up his jacket on the hatstand by the door. He was wearing a black Deftones tee-shirt under the jacket, which had her making a noise in the back of her throat– she liked them, too. “Alright, I have to go rescue Seokjin. Hoseok is probably driving him up a tree.”

However, as she went to exit the kitchen, her path was blocked by his figure, tattooed arms crossed over his chest. What now?

“Go change first. If you wanna rescue Seokjin, put him out of his misery watching you shiver in a skimpy dress in fifty degree weather and throw some sweats on,” Jeongguk drawled, making heat crawl up her throat and bloom across her cheeks. 

“Okay,” replied obediently, with no room for questioning the tone of authority in his voice. Not to mention, she couldn’t believe she hadn’t noticed Seokjin’s fretting over the course of the night– he did typically try and bundle her up even when the temperature was in the mid-sixties. 

Again, before she could get too far into the foyer, his raspy voice called out her name. Looking over her shoulder, she scowled, waiting for him to tell her to shingle the roof while she was at it. 

“Send the wolf in when you go back out. I want to finish Scream, and I don’t want another spat happening if I watch it without him,” Jeongguk sent a wink her way, slouching off towards the dimly lit parlor with a smug look on his face. Bastard. 

Muttering, Y/N woodenly found her way to her bedroom, rustling around in her drawers for a thick pair of leggings and her specific Halloween sweater with cute skeletons on it, she rid herself of the skimpy dress (sadly, it looked fantastic on her), and begrudgingly pulled on the warmer clothes, even going as far as tugging woolen socks up over her leggings to her knees. She looked a little ridiculous, but there was no way she was going out there and risking Jeongguk dragging her by her ear back inside, or making Seokjin worry about her. 

Ruffling her hair in the mirror, she heard the slider from the kitchen being firmly shut and locked up, the heavy sound of steel-toed boots clacking against the marble floors. Jimin had finally come in from his evening ride. 

Before she could scramble out to greet him, he had already whisked himself away into his bedroom, and then the sound of his shower tap noisily turned on. Old house, old rickety plumbing… even with the refurbished bathrooms, the pipes in the wall carried water everywhere with audible whooshing and clanking. Jimin typically took long showers after being out with Vista most days, he hated tracking dirt around the house, and his muddy boots were placed neatly on the giant shoe rack by the front door she had to order on Amazon recently. 

The front door was shut, but she could still hear Yoongi’s gruff voice through the thick wood, which made her smile. Reaching for the doorknob, she paused, her phone vibrating in her leggings pocket. 

Tae: Y/N, can I borrow your laptop until the morning ? I have a few more pictures to edit, I’m sorry

Y/N: Don’t be sorry!! Keep it as long as you need, Tae. As long as I can see the results!

Tae: Okay :) thx

She was definitely thinking of getting Taehyung a laptop for his birthday in December or perhaps for Christmas. It was that or getting some kind of desktop setup in the office next to Jimin’s bedroom, so anyone who needed to use a computer would have access to it. It all depended on whether or not she could rely on the money that would soon be coming in once they began boarding horses in the upcoming weeks. 

Much warmer now in her new outfit, Y/N re-joined Seokjin, Yoongi, Hoseok and Namjoon on the porch, and she resumed her seat on the top step beside the jaguar hybrid. Seokjin certainly seemed relieved by both her return, but also by the way his mouth curved upwards in satisfaction and his eyes roamed over her attire, pleased that she had changed into something toastier. She took the plastic cauldron that was recently refilled with Hershey bars off of his lap, adjusting his crooked devil horn headband again with a click of her tongue. 

“Joonie, Jeongguk wants to keep watching Scream with you, told me to send you back in,” Y/N tilted her head up to seek out the wolf hybrid’s eyes, finding him staring at her neck with slightly narrowed eyes. Whoops, maybe she should have worn a turtleneck. 

“Everythings…?” Hoseok appeared, guiltily, around Yoongi’s shoulder, a lollipop rounding out one of his cheeks. “Alright?”

“Mm-hmm. You and I have something to talk about later, though. Nothing bad, don’t worry,” Y/N assured with her hands up, as soon as Hoseok’s russet ears drooped in response. 

“I’ll go in, then,” Namjoon interrupted, not realizing that there was a young girl dressed as a little red riding hood gawking at him with cartoonishly large eyes. She pointed at him excitedly, tugging on her mother’s shirtsleeve to get her to notice Namjoon. 

Ears perking up, he tilted his head at the girl, his eyebrows raised as he figured out who she was dressed as. Namjoon gave her a sweet, albeit wolfish, smile complete with pointed incisors and waved slightly, the girl squealing in delight and waving back. With blush dusting his cheeks, Namjoon retreated back into the house. 

Shortly after Namjoon’s departure, Yoongi went inside, as well. He announced he was going to start on dinner; even though all he had to do was stick pizza from Sal’s into the oven on sheet pans and dress the salads, but Y/N knew he was probably itching to get some alone time. Hoseok, too, started lamenting about the biting wind, and after fifteen minutes of handing out candy with Y/N and Seokjin, he, too, went inside to see what Jimin was up to. 

“So everything was worked out with Jeongguk? What is it that you have to talk to Hoseok about, did he really say something horrible?” Seokjin asked curiously, when there was a short reprieve of little ones barreling up their front walkway. 

“Ah, nothing horrible. He was just making jokes about how I have ‘favorites’ amongst you all, which just isn’t true… I don’t want him to give anyone else the wrong idea. I imagine Tae wouldn’t have liked those jokes, either,” Y/N admitted, the sensation of Seokjin’s sleek tail periodically flicking her on the lower back familiar and endearing. 

“I wouldn’t have liked it, as well,” Seokjin grumbled, his thick lower lip jutting out into a pout. “Not all of his jokes always land, that’s something he needs to learn.”

“All in due time, Seokjin… there was no physical violence, and it was easily resolved, so that’s all I can hope for,” Y/N sighed, tiredly leaning her cheek on Seokjin’s shoulder. 

Purring, Seokjin hooked his arm through her’s, tucking his hand into his jacket pocket to secure their arms together. His bright eyes flashed, tiny giggles coming from the front of the property, indicating that they were about to get a few more visitors. 

A Frankenstein, Red Power Ranger, and a girl dressed as a witch came skipping up their walkway, with great baskets already stuffed with various candies. Of course, all eyes landed on Seokjin first, with his vibrant orange eyes that shone in the darkness, his elegant, rounded black ears, and the length of his tail that curled to and fro behind him. It was moot to mention how gorgeous Seokjin was, additionally– he had many bashful kids, mothers, and even fathers alike gawking at his beautiful face the entire night. 

Seokjin, however, was either used to people ogling at him, or perhaps he was painfully oblivious, so with a closed-lipped smile, he used his free hand to pass out chocolate bars once the kids chorused ‘trick or treat!’. Y/N found that not only were children enamored with Seokjin, but he seemed to adore them as well. He tossed the chocolate bars in the air, the kids having to catch them with delight. The witch, who’s attention was on Y/N clinging to Seokjin, seemed inquisitive, unlike her brothers who were happily catching candy in the air. 

“I like your costume! That’s an awesome hat,” Y/N spoke up, the girl looking from her to Seokjin as if they were mythical beings that appeared before her. 

“Are you married?” The girl ignored the compliments Y/N doled out, obviously referring to her and Seokjin, pressed up so close to each other it was like they were morphing into a singular body. 

Y/N was at a loss for words. She knew kids could be incredibly forward and bold, but this question had her mouth drying up. Did she look old enough to be married? Further, did it make sense for her to be with a man as heart-stoppingly beautiful and kind as Seokjin? The simple, innocent inquiry rocked her world. 

“Uh–”

“Yes, we are,” Seokjin grinned like the cat who ate the canary, his tail winding around Y/N’s waist as he snuggled into her. Blood draining from her face, she side-eyed Seokjin with utter shock, not even noticing that the young girl was giggling like mad. “For two months already!”

“I wanna marry a pretty hybrid like you, too!” The girl exclaimed, cupping her hands to make what Y/N assumed to be a mimic for hybrid ears on top of her head. 

Once recovering from the fact that Seokjin had told the girl that they were a married couple, it dawned on her that he had used his adoption date as the day they “tied the knot”. The sentiment was certainly not lost on her, stomach filling up with butterflies. 

“Like me? Really?” Seokjin put a finger to his lips, theatrically acting out deep contemplations, eyes cast up to the stars and all. “Don’t you think my wife is prettier?”

With that, Y/N coughed on a bit of spit that unfortunately found its way into her windpipe. While the girl was nodding in agreement, her mother was calling her name out on the street, and she went to follow her brothers up the walkway– but not before saying goodbye to her new friends. 

“Bye-bye!” She waved and grinned, and as Seokjin waved back, he pressed a loud, firm kiss to the apple of Y/N’s cheek, concluding his great act. 

Hand flying to the flaming flesh Seokjin’s lips pressed his stamp of affection over, she gaped at the jaguar hybrid as he waved at the children merrily, his eyes squeezed shut and offering up a toothy smile. Reeling, she waited until the voices of the children floated off down the street until she began breathing again, nudging Seokjin with her shoulder. 

“Huh? What, are we out of candy?” Seokjin asked innocently, though there was a hint of mischief in the quirked corners of his mouth. Melting instantly, Y/N nudged Seokjin again, now feeling quite shy. 

“No, we’re good with candy still, husband,” Y/N couldn’t help but poke fun back, since Seokjin was typically so easy to fluster. This time, he seemed somewhat unfazed, his squeaky laughter tickling her ears like she just told a hilarious joke. “You’ve been spending too much time with Hoseok. Teasing me like that.”

“Sorry, I couldn’t resist. She was adorable, and you’re cute when you’re caught off guard,” Seokjin shrugged, his tail tightening around her waist securely. 

“Seokjinnie, stop embarrassing me! I feel like my blood is coming to a boil,” Y/N huffed, using a free hand to fan the heat across her cheeks. 

“I know, I can feel how flushed you are from where I’m sitting,” the jaguar hybrid used the back of his hand to gently check the temperature of her cheek, just over the spot he had kissed not five minutes prior. What in the world was coming over him? “So cute!”

“Wow. You’re turning out to be quite the charmer, aren’t you?” Y/N murmured, so discombobulated and dazzled that she forgot all about the task at hand– tending to the trick-or-treaters, six of which were shuffling up the walkway oohing and ahhing at the decor scattered about the front yard and decked about the porch. 

“I think the amount of kids will start to thin out soon, since it’s getting later in the night. Kids have bedtimes, especially on school nights, right?” Seokjin went back to normal conversation, as if he didn’t flirt with her like a seasoned Casanova. 

“Eh? Oh, yeah, it is… and it’s almost dinner time, too,” Y/N snapped back to reality, watching Seokjin do his little tossing game with the kids crowding around the porch. “You’re good with kids, Seokjin. They love you.”

At last, she managed to make Seokjin blush, his ears fluttering and pointed incisors biting down on his pillowy lower lip. For the following forty-five minutes, they passed out candy to some older children who had later bedtimes, until Yoongi poked his head outside to announce that the food was all heated up, her arm still linked with Seokjin the entire time. As they got up to go inside, finally separating, Y/N noticed that Seokjin had refilled the plastic cauldron with more candy and left it on the porch step for remaining visitors. 

October seemingly came and went, and frosty, gray November was settling over the city of Boston and the town her and her hybrids lived in. Leaves on the trees had almost completely fallen off every tree in the front and back yard, which Y/N had a blast (for once) raking up with the help of some of her housemates. After a little over two months of adopting all of her hybrids, everyone settled into a normal, functional routine. While it could certainly be hectic– between keeping track of basketball games, track meets, the odd photography expo, transporting everyone where they needed to be, and juggling her job, household duties, and renovations on top of all of that– it was lovely to have companionship and fulfilling purpose. 

Mid-November one morning, when Y/N woke up to the grass outside crystalized with sparkling frost and darkened skies; she dressed as warmly as she could, relishing in the day off from work. All she had on the agenda that day was baking and cooking with Yoongi, and in the afternoon, helping Jimin out with the arrivals of two horses that were ready to be boarded for the upcoming winter. 

The hallway into the foyer was noticeably brisk, and Y/N cursed as she turned up the thermostat by her bedroom door. Cringing, the loud hum of the heating system broke the quiet ambiance of the morning, and she resumed her shuffle down the hallway with her arms wrapped around her sweater-clad middle. 

Orange light spilled out into the hallway from Namjoon’s open door. He usually kept it open, Y/N wasn’t quite sure why, but it seemed he was up and about already. Y/N figured he would have moved into his trailer full time after his birthday, but her hypothesis was proven wrong, he hadn’t. In fact, the wolf hybrid hadn’t even taken it out of the driveway since September, and really only disappeared into the vehicle a few times a week to retrieve books and bring them back into the house. 

Peering into the room, she saw Namjoon sitting at his desk dressed in his rose colored thermal, taking notes from a tattered chess strategy book with the board her mother got him for his birthday neatly set up off to the side. He had yet to take her up on her offer to play with him, Y/N assuming he was trying to absorb every rule and trick he could beforehand. 

“Morning, Joon,” Y/N greeted softly, hesitant to break his concentration. Over the past couple of months, she had gathered that he wasn’t exactly receptive to conversation when he was focused on reading. She knew, though, that he was listening and aware that she was in his doorway; his silver ears twitching with every minute movement she made.

At once, he set his fountain pen down, lifting his head from the palm he was resting his forehead in, concentration clearing from his eyes. 

“Morning. You have the day off?” Namjoon cleared his throat, voice thick and gravelly as if it was the first time he had spoken that morning– and likely, it was. 

“Uh-huh. Tuesdays I have off, remember? What are you up to today? Want to play a match later tonight?” Y/N gestured towards his notes and the pristine board sitting beside him, leaning her hip against the threshold of his door. “We can bring the board out to the parlor, and put it on the table in front of the fireplace. That way we’ll have good lighting!”

“Alright, sure. That sounds nice,” Namjoon allowed himself to smile a little, the gesture indenting dimples into the apples of his cheeks. “I think breakfast is ready, and I heard Jimin asking for you in the kitchen not too long ago.”

That was Namjoon’s code for “get out, I want to keep reading”, though Y/N didn’t mind. The warm, enticing smell of sausage and hash browns had her stomach growling loudly, Namjoon staring pointedly at her stomach. With that, she smirked at the wolf hybrid, leaving him to his note taking and skipping to the parlor, despite the strong desire to bolt immediately into the kitchen. 

She stopped short, however, when she noticed the task she wanted to complete had already been taken care of– a tall, roaring fire crackling away in the fireplace. Stoking it with a fire poker was Taehyung, an emerald green flannel covering his back and a black beanie pulled over his wild curls. Taehyung wasn’t typically an early riser, so his presence made her giddy. 

“Oh, thanks, Tae! I was just going to do that,” Y/N approached him, using her arm to squeeze him into her side by his waist. Taehyung, like Seokjin and Yoongi, was quite affectionate, so she had grown used to giving out constant hugs and pats throughout the day. “I think it’s going to be a cold winter. I better stock up on firewood.”

“Why don’t you just let me chop it? That’s what I used to do all day, you know,” Taehyung replied with a slight groan, though lowering his head so he could bury his nose into the crown of her head. 

She thought it was a little strange, at first, how Taehyung often liked to smell her hair, but she had noticed that Jimin had also exhibited the same behavior, so she wrote it off as just an instinctual hybrid mannerism. In only two months, she had become extremely comfortable with her personal space being explored and invaded. 

“But there’s one of our neighbors who sells it by the bundle! That way you don’t have to be out in the cold,” Y/N countered. Truthfully, she felt way too bad to have Taehyung resume a type of labor he had been exploited for in the past, but she didn’t want to come out and exactly tell him that. 

“Y/N, you’re being stubborn. It gives me something to do, and you shouldn’t have to pay for wood that you can gather around the back yard for free. Just let me chop the wood,” Taehyung pushed her away by her shoulders, getting down low so he could make level eye contact with her. As always, it was an intense experience, and she quickly looked away before she could drown in the garnet depths of his gaze. 

“I know if I say no, you’re still going to do it anyways. As long as you dress warmly, okay?” Y/N relented, using the sleeve of his flannel to drag him to the kitchen for some breakfast. 

The kitchen was brightly lit, as always, and the lights starkly contrasted the dark morning, making Y/N’s eyes hurt. Jimin, with his mug of coffee– one with a moose on it, his favorite, Y/N presumed– was sitting at the breakfast nook with a newspaper like an old man. He looked incredibly ready to tackle his day; freshly showered, dressed in his blue jeans, a tee shirt, and his new heavy-duty leather jacket Y/N had ordered him for his long hours outside. 

Predictably, Yoongi was cooking, in his pajamas and cheeks still puffy from sleep. Y/N’s coffee was waiting for her on the island, always with the perfect ratio of cream to sugar. It appeared that Yoongi was making a giant vat of scrambled eggs– something that was on a heavy rotation for breakfast lately since Yoongi discovered Anthony Bourdain’s recipe for them.

His hair was getting even longer these days, falling forward into his face and feathering around his neck, and Y/N was harboring a secret desire to try different hairstyles on him, especially when they were watching movies together at night. Yoongi, more than the others, was a big fan of his hair being played with; and usually grabbed her hand to card through the silky locks, and she now had the duty of putting it up before his basketball games. 

“I’m starving,” Y/N sighed, now behind Yoongi at the stove, hooking her chin over his shoulder to watch him sprinkle chopped chives into the scrambled eggs. “Smells so good. We’re lucky to have you, Yoongi.”

“Don’t butter me up. You still need to study the circle of fifths later,” Yoongi glanced backwards at her, his “serious teacher” expression on his face. For the past few weeks, his piano lessons have involved a lot more music theory than anything else, and it nearly bored her to tears– no matter how important it was to becoming a better player. The latest lesson, tackling the circle of fifths, she swore was harder than veterinarian school. 

“You never let me off the hook, do you, sir?” Y/N saluted him like a soldier, watching his eyes roll back into his skull and his spotted tail whacking the side of her thigh. 

“Good morning Y/N!” Seokjin’s happy voice filled the kitchen– apparently, he had been in the pantry the whole time. “Guess what?”

Ditching Yoongi, she joined Seokjin, who was eagerly bouncing on the balls of his feet by the oven, two plaid oven mitts on his hands. He grinned from ear to ear, tail swishing back and forth with excitement. Lately, Seokjin had been doing a little more experimenting in the kitchen, following Youtube tutorials and starting off with simple recipes, mostly side dishes. 

“What’s that?” Y/N reached up to his broad chest, dusting off a sprinkle of flour across the black tee shirt he was wearing, curious as to what he had made this time. Whenever he’d make something new, she had to be the first to see and try it. “You know what? Maybe I should sign you and Yoongi up for Masterchef.”

“Don’t do that. We both suck under pressure,” Yoongi immediately responded from the stove, transferring the eggs into a large casserole dish. “They definitely don’t take hybrids as contestants, anyways.”

Seokjin made a feline noise of annoyance, shooting Yoongi a dirty look, before he softened and opened up the oven carefully, Y/N waiting to see what he presented her. Seokjin had only ever made tapas-style dishes, easy to execute, so she was curious to see what he was going to pull from the oven. 

“No way! Jin, you made bread?” Y/N’s jaw was hanging loose, the jaguar hybrid taking a perfect boule of sourdough out on a sheet pan. Bread was something she hadn’t even attempted to make yet, and here Seokjin was, with a loaf that looked like it came from a prestigious bakery. “Don’t you need to make some sort of starter a week or so in advance?”

“Yeah, didn’t you notice that jar of sludge over on the coffee bar the past seven days?” Yoongi pointed to a mason jar that looked like a science project sitting by the coffee maker. Truthfully, since Yoongi usually made her coffee for her every morning, she rarely found herself in front of the carafe. 

“No…” Y/N mumbled, slightly abashed, Yoongi tutting at her and using a spatula to flip over some hash browns in a cast iron skillet. “I can’t even remember the last time I made my own coffee, to be fair!”

“Hmph. I think I spoil you too much,” Yoongi sighed with a shake of his head, so quietly that Y/N almost missed it. 

Her mouth dropped open to deny the accusation, mostly because there was nothing she wanted less than Yoongi to stop giving her princess treatment, but a sturdy grip on her chin turning her head away had thoughts clearing from her mind in an instant. Finding the vibrant flame-colored eyes boring roguishly into her face, she blinked, a chunk of warm bread pushed between her puckered lips, Seokjin lightly squeezing her jaw in his grasp to keep her mouth pried open. 

“How is it?” Seokjin cocked his head, thumb and forefinger stroking the hinges of her jaw as if to encourage chewing. 

Y/N did so numbly, finding it impossible to look away, while still somehow managing to actually taste the delicious bread he had tossed into her gaping mouth. Under her nose, he had even buttered the chunk of bread while she was preoccupied by Yoongi’s teasing, the rich fattiness of the butter complimenting the full-bodied flavor of the sourdough. It was the best bread she had tasted in years, putting the local bakery in the town square to shame. The fact that it was his first time baking something like that and having it turn out heavenly was frankly unfair. 

“Seokjin, it’s fucking delicious,” Y/N announced after a thick swallow, her tastebuds already begging for another slice. With a satisfied purr, Seokjin released her jaw– which she didn’t even realize he was still gripping– his human ears turning pink and the jaguar ones fluttering in delight. “Seriously. I might eat that whole loaf.”

“Jinnie, cut me a slice! Feed me, too!” Hoseok strolled into the room, wearing a red tracksuit and his hair a little sweaty from a likely morning workout. 

Y/N did end up having her little chat with Hoseok about the whole “favoritism” thing, which he felt badly about once she was able to have a moment alone with him. During an afternoon of trying out a yoga video on Youtube together, they talked about it at length. While it was awkward and uncomfortable at first, as always she left conversations with Hoseok with a stomach cramping from too much laughter and a certain, fresh outlook on life. Since then, he’d promptly gone back to his normal, clever and upbeat self; and things between him and Jeongguk had been patched up as if nothing had ever occurred. 

“Only if you say please,” Seokjin retorted, giving Y/N a little pat on the top of her head as he began to slice a slab of bread for the fox hybrid. 

It seemed with each passing day, the extreme shyness that Seokjin had once hid himself behind was melting away, and his personality was turning out to be a lot more teasing and sly than Y/N originally thought. The blossoming of some of his extroverted tendencies had made sense of why Seokjin and Hoseok had formulated a close bond so quickly at the shelter. Hoseok must have sniffed out the underlying troublemaker in the jaguar hybrid. 

“Heh. Please,” Hoseok drew out his plea obnoxiously, hungrily watching Seokjin spread a thick smear of butter over the bread, an amused smirk on the fox hybrid’s face. 

With that, Seokjin leaned over the island, sticking the sliced bread into Hoseok’s mouth, a squeaky laugh shaking his broad shoulder as Hoseok groaned pleasurably and dramatically. 

Hoseok’s next quip was around a mouthful of bread and a generous amount of butter. “Who woulda thought you were so demanding of manners, Jinnie?”

Seokjin sliced up the rest of his sourdough to be toasted with breakfast, a content simper on his face, Y/N finding her way to the breakfast nook in order to escape any more touches from Seokjin that had heat curling in her gut. Under Jimin’s watchful eye, and at times his reproachfulness towards the other hybrids, she knew no one else would try and tease her in his presence. Taehyung, who had been lurking around the coffee bar making himself some kind of iced, sugary concoction, slid into the booth beside her, sandwiching Y/N between him and Jimin. 

“Hey, Tae, if you’re going to be outside today for the firewood, do you mind helping Jimin and I out with the horses that’ll be dropped off around noon? It might be better to have another pair of hands. I believe two, maybe three are being brought over,” Y/N sipped her coffee indulgently, letting it heat up her insides. 

With the mention of his name and their shared task for that afternoon, Jimin’s ears perked up immediately and he set his newspaper down. Tae gave her a thumbs-up, whipped cream coating his upper lip from his drink, Y/N noting how he looked 100% human with his beanie on, his rounded ears hidden beneath. 

“What are horses' names, again, Y/N?” Jimin accepted a plate of breakfast food from Yoongi with a polite nod, the leopard hybrid placing a second one heaped with outrageous portions in front of Y/N. Y/N had an inkling that Yoongi’s love language was making sure she was always well fed. 

“Blue, Oliver, and possibly Willow, if her owners can make it today,” Y/N recalled, her eyes to the ceiling to pull the information out of her brain. Though she was once a veterinarian and often treated horses, taking care of so many that lived in her backyard full-time was sort of intimidating. It was lucky that she could heavily rely on Jimin, who was at home almost always, and grew up taking care of horses specifically. 

Sneaking a peek at the coyote hybrid beside her, who was the picture of anticipation scanning the backyard through the picture window behind the breakfast nook, she melted in her seat like a pat of butter in a scorching pan. Jimin was a striking combination of delicately beautiful and ruggedly handsome, and quite frankly Y/N found it unjust. To her, it was wrong that someone could be simultaneously runway material and dripping with inherent brawniness. 

Additionally, the sort of romantic dreaminess that Jimin often displayed in his actions (unbeknownst to him, Y/N believed) practically made him into a Jane Austen hero that walked off of the weathered pages and into her reality. It was extremely difficult not to fall for the coyote hybrid, and Y/N spent a good chunk of her time trying to grapple with that whenever she hung out with him in the stable. A man who was gentle and caring towards animals was certainly high up on her wishlist for a lover. 

“Alright. Everything is all set in the stalls, I put hay in three of the vacant ones this morning just in case,” Jimin grinned at Y/N, as if he could read her mind and see the thirsty thoughts floating around in her skull. Hastily covering up her guilt, she took a scalding swig of her coffee, wincing at the sear in her esophagus. 

“Eat up, Y/N. The eggs taste like shit when they’re cold,” Yoongi interrupted her coughing fit, his eyes narrowed from his spot by the sink, Y/N unaware he was even monitoring her. There was an odd look on his face, his fine features shadowy, lips downturned at the corners, and his ears twitching in agitation. Okay?

Obediently, Y/N worked through her comically large plate of breakfast, giggling at Hoseok and Seokjin teasing each other at the island, their jabs at each other filling the kitchen with a little sunshine despite Yoongi’s sudden storminess. She’d have to ask what was up with him later, when they cooked dinner together. 

“Oh, she’s beautiful, Mr. Orlov! I’m so glad you could bring her today. We’ll take great care of her,” Y/N stroked Willow, a dapple gray, gently on her strong neck, admiring how soft her coat was. Mr. Orlov was a good friend of her grandfather’s, a Russian immigrant, and was planning on spending the winter in Arizona with his wife. 

“I’m sure you will. Your grandfather spoke highly of the young man who will be helping you. A former ranger hybrid, no?” Mr. Orlov asked in his thick accent, walking beside Y/N and his horse with his hands clasped behind his back. 

Though it was the forth time she was escorting a horse through her backyard towards the stable, she still found it a bit funny to do so, especially without Jimin. He was busy in the stable already, tending to the two new horses and his own. 

“Yes, Jimin worked at the Yellowstone ranch, so he’s very experienced. He even used to train horses! I’m really fortunate to have him, he was able to fix up the old stable in the blink of an eye…” Y/N took the opportunity to gush about Jimin, soothingly patting Willow as she became a little skittish with the sounds of splitting wood off into the distance. 

“It is nice to know Willow will be close to home while I am away,” Mr. Orlov’s crystal blue eyes scanned the backyard for the source of the sound growing in volume. “Is that him?”

Taehyung, with his flannel tied around his waist and in a sweat-dampened white tee shirt, was by the little woodshed several yards away from the stable, an ax in hand and a neat pile of firewood beside the block he was chopping on. Mouth drying up at the sight, the sheer strength Taehyung possessed in being able to split a thick chunk of wood in one fell swoop, Y/N shook her head distractedly. 

“No, that’s Taehyung, another one of my hybrids,” Y/N gave Taehyung a weak wave when his head whipped up upon hearing his name coming from her lips. He adjusted the beanie on the top of his head, blinking at her stoically, returning to his task. Y/N had the feeling he was aware she was peeved he was only in a tee shirt in fifty degree weather. “Jimin is in the stable.”

“That’s him?” Mr. Orlov pointed towards the chicken coop, where Seokjin was shaking out a bag of feed with the birds pecking around his feet. 

“Uh, no, that’s not him either,” Y/N chuckled sheepishly. She wondered if her grandfather had told Mr. Orlov just how many hybrids lived with her. It was the sort of thing that tended to be a bombshell dropping during conversations with curious strangers. “Just through here, let’s bring Willow inside and see how she likes her new digs!”

Mr. Orlov politely waved at Seokjin, who had a chicken tucked under his arm. Due to the colors of the feathers, Y/N could tell it was Sable– her and Jimin had named all of the chickens– the hen that was greediest with the food and often ate more than her share. Chuckling at the bird struggling to free herself from Seokjin’s arms, Y/N slowly led Willow and Mr. Orlov into the stable, which was lit up nicely and immaculately swept clean. 

“Ah, gorgeous. You fixed up this place very well, I remember what it looked like last winter,” Mr. Orlov took a look around, Jimin appearing from one of the stalls with a wide grin that made his eyes narrow into slits. 

Probably sensing that Y/N was in need of more experienced hands to take over horse duty, he hurried over, hands already extended– one to shake Mr. Orlov’s hand, another to take the reins from Y/N’s clammy fist. Relieved, she took a few steps away from Willow, watching Jimin lead the horse and her owner to a free stall, one next to Vista, Jimin’s own horse. Y/N noticed the ground of the stable was a bit wet, the scent of shampoo slightly perfuming the air from when Jimin had given Vista a bath earlier that afternoon. 

She let Jimin handle himself and take over answering any questions Mr. Orlov had about the stable and how they’d care for Willow. Truthfully, she would just be awkwardly standing there while they chatted, and Jimin could definitely handle talking to Mr. Orlov himself, so she gave Vista a soft pat on her nose before heading back outside to see if Seokjin had gotten his arms pecked bloody. 

When she left the stable, Seokjin was already gone. It was kind of brisk outside, and since Seokjin was not a fan of chilly weather, she figured he had gone back inside as soon as he fed the chickens to warm up by the fire. Taehyung was still busy chopping wood, and Y/N realized that he had found an old portable CD player and was listening to something as he worked, the old headphones he typically plugged into the turntable attached to the device clipped to the belt loop of his jeans. He still somehow managed to hear her as she walked towards the house, even with the music playing– or perhaps he caught a whiff of her. Either way, he gave her a closed-mouth smile, sweat collecting along where his beanie met his forehead. 

Y/N’s phone began to ring in her pocket, making her pause and plop down onto a lounge chair on the patio beside the kitchen door. The caller ID showed a picture of Ben from college, drunk and eating ramen with a fork. 

“Hey Ben! What’s up?” Y/N picked at her cuticles, which were unfortunately drying out due to the change in seasons. 

“Same old, Roy just took Daisy to the grocery store. She wanted spaghetti for dinner, and we were fresh out.” Ben sounded like he was bustling around his kitchen, pots and pans clanging together. “How’ve you been? Didn’t you say there were some people dropping off horses at your place today?”

“Yeah, three of them got dropped off today. You should see Jimin, he’s so happy,” Y/N felt warm fuzziness envelop her, imagining the radiance of Jimin’s joy in her mind. “I’ve been really good lately. I finally feel like the routines are making sense and flowing.”

“That’s a relief. You were running around like a headless chicken for a few weeks there,” Ben chuckled. “Speaking of chickens. Do you think I could get some eggs from you sometime this week? The last batch was awesome.”

“Of course! We have more eggs than we know what to do with, even with Hoseok boiling so many for his pre-practice snack,” Y/N snuck a peek into the kitchen slider, hoping to see Yoongi in there waiting for her to join him. However, no one seemed to be in the kitchen, which was highly unusual– all of the boys were prone to constant snacking. “Is that why you called? For more eggs?”

Y/N was teasing, but Ben texted her most of the time to catch up. When he’d call her, it was typically because he had something important to say. 

“No, actually. I have some news for you,” Ben cleared his throat, tone becoming more serious. “It’s about Hannah. She won her case this afternoon, and someone has already requested to adopt her. She’s out of Cirque Mystique.”

Y/N fell silent, heart pounding quickly in her chest. She hadn’t talked to Seokjin about what she had found out about Hannah yet, wanting to wait and see how her trial went before getting his hopes up that she had been freed from the circus. Now that Hannah was free, Y/N was suddenly stumped on how to bring it up to Seokjin. Since their chat about Hannah and the circus, the jaguar hybrid had not brought up the subject again. Part of Y/N wondered if he thought she forgot about it, since the conversation happened weeks ago– the thought making her heart squeeze. 

“Hello? Earth to Y/N, did I cut out?” Ben whistled on the other end of the receiver, Y/N squeaking once she realized she had zoned out with him still on the line. 

“No, no, I heard you! That’s really great news, you said someone wants to adopt her?” Y/N recovered, watching Jimin escort Mr. Orlov back to his car in the distance. 

“The public defender who represented her, actually. I know the woman, she’s wanted to adopt a hybrid for a while, she’s extremely nice. Actually, she just decided to move to Upstate New York, more clients around there, more nature, et cetera. So her and Hannah will be moving at the end of the month, when the adoption goes through. I guess they really bonded over the course of the trial, Hannah felt safe with her,” Ben explained, Y/N trying her best to process all of this new information. “And I know what you’re thinking. You were probably itching to adopt Hannah for Seokjin, but seven hybrids is already a handful for you, Y/N. This is a good thing.”

Lifting her eyebrows, she considered Ben’s accusation. Honestly, she wasn’t even close to thinking about adopting Hannah– Ben was right, seven hybrids was more than enough to keep her on her toes, an eighth would send her straight over the edge of sanity. Besides, adding another hybrid to the house was a recipe for throwing the carefully constructed balance she had created between her seven boys off kilter. 

“Ben, I might be a little off my rocker, but I’m not that crazy. It was difficult enough to get some of my boys to even tolerate one another, I’m not about to disturb the peace now,”  Y/N pushed a hand through her hair, wondering if there was a way she could arrange for Seokjin to meet with Hannah before she moved to New York. 

“Mm-hm, I’m sure,” Ben replied airly, as if he didn’t buy what she was saying at all. “Apparently, though, Hannah was asking about Seokjin. I told my friend– Sarah, is her name, the one adopting Hannah– that he was with you and he was safe. I think she’d like to see him, and I told Sarah that I’d ask if it was alright to pass on your contact information.”

“God, it’s like you read my mind. That’s totally fine, send over my number and email. I’ll definitely find time for Seokjin and I to meet up with them,” Y/N agreed, growing anxious to tell Seokjin the good news. There was no telling how he’d react, but she was hoping that it would be positive. “Listen Ben, thanks for letting me know. I gotta get going though, I want to break the news to him.”

“Just as well. I have a Zoom meeting with a client in half an hour, enough time for me to finish roasting vegetables for dinner. We have to blend them into the tomato sauce to get Daisy to eat anything green, ironic for a bunny hybrid,” Ben bid Y/N goodbye, hanging up with a curse as it sounded like he may have burned himself on a hot pan. Ben’s cooking skills were never really something to write home about. 

Shivering, eyes trailing after Jimin making haste back across the yard to the stable, Y/N took a calming, deep breath as if to steel herself. Strangely enough, she was becoming nervous to talk to Seokjin, which was unnerving and even a little alarming. Gnawing on her lip, she tried to swallow down the anxiety, pulling her sweater closer around her body and finding her way back into the house. 

Y/N’s anxiety subsided monumentally as soon as she found Seokjin. He had made himself comfortable in the parlor, arguably the warmest room in the house, wrapped up in a throw blanket with the fireplace alight and his attention on the cooking channel. Without a word, Y/N took a seat beside the jaguar hybrid, his chest rumbling with purrs as she squirmed into a suitable position. In amicable silence, Y/N defrosted next to Seokjin for several moments, humming softly when he peeled back a corner of his blanket to pull it over Y/N, as well. 

“You shouldn’t spend so much time outside when the weather is like this. You’ll catch a cold,” Seokjin murmured after a while, eyes focused on Gordon Ramsay demonstrating how to cook the perfect duck entree. He attempted to put off nonchalance, but his eyebrows were knitted and Y/N could tell he was slightly admonishing her. 

“For someone born in December, you sure hate the winter, huh, Seokjinnie?” Y/N deflected, naturally scooching closer to his elevated body heat. It was nice that the hybrids were such warm beings, perfect to cuddle up to. “Speaking of, have you found a place you’d be interested in going to eat for your birthday?”

Y/N knew that she was beating around the bush, but her brain was still trying to come up with a way to bring up what she had discovered about Hannah. Luckily, it seemed that the rest of her hybrids were either outside or holed up in their bedrooms doing their own thing. She swore she had heard Yoongi on the piano when she had come inside, a familiar tune he often played but never directly in front of her, but the music had stopped abruptly as soon as she sought out Seokjin. 

Grumbling, Seokjin didn’t seem to like her obvious change in subject and disregard for his fretting, but his features softened as he finally cast a look downwards at her. He pulled his phone out from under the blanket, tapping away on the internet browser with determination, before holding the phone out in front of Y/N’s face, his lower lip tucked between his teeth. 

“Oh! Ramsay’s Kitchen? As in Gordon Ramsay? There’s one of those in Boston? I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised, he is a household name around here,” Y/N gingerly took Seokjin’s phone from him, flicking through the website’s gallery. 

Seokjin didn’t say anything, his cheeks a little pink as he watched Y/N check out the website, his ears dropping down sideways as if she was going to tell him they couldn’t go or something. 

“Mmm… the menu looks delicious. Hey, your birthday falls on a Sunday, so we could go to brunch– only if you want! We can go any time, really. It’s entirely up to you, it’s your day, after all,” Y/N passed Seokjin’s phone back to him, the jaguar hybrid pulling his teeth from his lip, blood rushing to the flesh and making his mouth look even more tempting than ever. 

“No, brunch is perfect! There’s more to choose from on the menu, for brunch. Are you sure we can go there? You don’t mind driving into the city?” Seokjin’s eyebrows shot up into his hairline, blinking harshly at her like he had sand in his eyes. 

“The drive is nothing. It’ll only take us like half an hour to get there, don’t worry about that. Want me to make a reservation? I think it’s probably wise considering Ramsay’s popularity…”

“I can do it,” Seokjin assured, already looking for the page to reserve a table. “Do you think everyone else will come along?”

“Do you want them to?” Y/N cocked her head, speaking cautiously. Perhaps he only wanted to go with her and Hoseok?

“I mean, whoever wants to come can tag along. I don’t mind,” Seokjin mumbled quietly, fingers hesitating on the drop-down menu that asked how many would be in their party. 

“Uh, why don’t you just reserve a table for eight, and if anything changes, I’ll give the restaurant a call. Okay?” Y/N made a mental note to convince everyone to join in for brunch, even the ones who tended to be late risers, because as much as Seokjin was trying to appear neutral, she could tell he secretly wanted everyone to be present. Whether or not his reasoning was so he could try more menu items, Y/N didn’t know. 

They lapsed back into silence for a bit, Seokjin finishing up the reservation form and the both of them watching Kitchen Nightmares with the occasional shared giggle. The mid-afternoon light was beginning to wane, filling the parlor with blue light, the fireplace offering a dim, homey glow. 

“Seokjin, I have some news for you,” Y/N spoke up abruptly during a commercial break, unable to hold information back anymore. Besides, she’d have to get going on dinner in a bit with Yoongi, and she promised the leopard hybrid that they’d bake something for dessert together, too. 

Reaching forward, she lowered the volume of the television, twisting her body and curling her legs to the side so she could face Seokjin fully. Able to sense her change in demeanor, serious and full of purpose, Seokjin promptly tore his attention from the TV, a quizzical look on his beautiful face, his nose slightly twitching. 

“So, remember a while ago, when we talked about Cirque Mystique, and I said I’d have Ben look around for some information?” Y/N dove in headfirst, deciding that she had been stalling for far too long. 

Watching the color drain from Seokjin’s face, he went rather still, even the constant twitch of his ears had paused in their movement. Not wanting him to think she had bad news, she reached for his hands under their shared blanket, the feeling of his crooked fingers slotting against hers boosting her confidence. 

“Hannah is fine,” Y/N assured at once, Seokjin’s mouth dropping open and his loose grip on her hands squeezing weakly. “Ben’s public defender friend, Sarah, actually represented Hannah in a negligence case against the circus. Hannah won her case, and she doesn’t have to work in the company anymore.”

“She’s free?” Seokjin breathed, his face still extremely pale and his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed repeatedly, like he was trying to lubricate a dry throat. 

“She’s free,” Y/N confirmed, smiling wistfully as tears began to gather along Seokjin’s lower lash line. The sight had her heart absolutely breaking in her chest. “In fact, Sarah has requested to adopt her. She’ll be safe, living in a loving home. Ben said that Sarah and Hannah had bonded over the course of her trial, so I think this was the best possible outcome for Hannah.”

Seokjin began to process what she had revealed to him, periodically clutching Y/N’s hands in small pulses as his wide eyes flitted from each of hers, as if to detect any deceit. His mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water, apparently at a loss for any kind of response, but Y/N let him take his time to sort out his emotions as she clung to his hands for dear life. 

“So… she’s going to be adopted,” Seokjin spoke barely above a whisper, releasing one of Y/N’s hands to use the inside of his wrist to dab away at his watery lash line. “That’s good. She’s not hurt?”

“No, she’s not hurt. Ben said she only sustained minor injuries, but those have definitely healed up by now,” Y/N was trying not to read too much into Seokjin’s reaction to the news– Hannah seemed to mean a whole lot more to Seokjin than Y/N had originally thought. An itchy, uncomfortable sensation began to bloom in her gut. Was it selfish to be jealous of Hannah? Probably, but it was near impossible to squash it down. 

Regaining his sense of self, Seokjin clumsily lurched forward, the blanket around them falling around their waists as he crushed Y/N in a fierce hug. His entire body crooked over her, and his wide shoulders did a good job of caging her in and shielding her from the world. Hands trapped between their chests pressed flush together, Y/N could only wind her fingertips into the fabric of Seokjin’s black tee shirt, breathing stuttered as Seokjin clutched her and shoved his face into her neck. The fabric making up the collar of her sweater was growing a bit damp, and Y/N realized Seokjin had allowed tears to fall freely down his cheeks, soaking into her top.

“Shh, it’s alright,” Y/N whispered, able to free one of her hands so she could smooth her palm down the back of Seokjin’s wavy head of raven hair. Shoulders slightly shaking, Seokjin pressed closer to her, almost forcing Y/N into his lap. “She’s going to be alright. Would you like to see her? Sarah said that Hannah was wondering about you, once she found out you were here with me.”

Pulling himself together slightly, Seokjin nodded into the crook of her neck, sniffling a little as Y/N’s previous jealousy melted away into concern for the jaguar hybrid. Still raking her fingers through his hair, she accidentally grazed the shell of his rounded, silky ear, a choked noise coming from Seokjin as he shuddered at the swift contact, his body becoming totally slack against her. Muttering a whoops, sorry, Y/N held onto Seokjin for a few more moments, her cheeks burning, before carefully maneuvering him off of her so she could assess his expression. 

“Oh, Seokjin… I didn’t mean to make you cry, honey,” Y/N’s throat was growing thick, the image of tears tracking down Seokjin’s face nearly unbearable to witness. Reaching up, she used her thumbs to tenderly brush away stray tears, Seokjin leaning into the touch and offering a weak smile. “I told Ben to give Sarah my information. As soon as she reaches out to me, we can make a plan. There’s one more thing…”

Seokjin shook his head, in order to encourage Y/N to continue talking even while he was overcome with emotion, trying his hardest to compose himself, his hands coming up to rub at his biceps self-consciously. 

“So, apparently Sarah is planning on moving to Upstate New York with Hannah, as soon as the adoption is finalized. Of course, we can visit whenever you’d like, but I just thought you should know that, as well,” Y/N now found it hard to look Seokjin dead in the eyes, her fingers fiddling with a stray thread poking out of the throw blanket tossed haphazardly across her lap. 

“New York? She… Hannah always wanted to live there,” Seokjin croaked, though a warmhearted beam began to grow on his face. Again, the itchy feeling in her gut returned, and Y/N felt overwhelming guilt flood through her. 

“She’ll love it there, I’m sure!” Y/N cheered, desperately hoping he couldn’t smell the emotions that were eating her alive only inches away from him. Shit, she was in deeper than she thought. “C-can… can I ask? How long have you known Hannah?”

Seokjin froze, scanning her face quietly, his friendly expression still in place but the barest hint of caution glazing over the set of his mouth. Immediately regretting her question, wishing she could stuff the words back into her trap and swallow them whole, Y/N began to wave her hands and chuckle everything off. 

“Jesus. Sorry, none of my business–”

“I’ve known her for about six, almost seven years. It’s okay, you can ask,” Seokjin gave Y/N a gentle pat on the back of her hand, likely noticing her picking at the loose blanket thread nervously. “She was brought into the company a couple of years after me. I had several friends in the company, but Hannah I felt closer to than anyone else.”

Digesting this, Y/N began to imagine what Hannah might have looked like, and how she acted. For Seokjin to speak so highly of her– and care so deeply for her wellbeing– she must have been an incredible person. 

“Ah, you might think this is ‘corny’, like when we watch those romance dramas with Hoseok and Jimin, but, um,” Seokjin made goofy air-quotes, his teeth coming down to chew on his lower lip once more. “But you know how those dramas often have a particular trope? Well, Hannah– I guess you could say– she was my ‘first love’.”

Then, Y/N’s ears began to ring loudly. Staring at the jaguar hybrid like he had just told her he planted a bomb in their basement, she took a split second to recover, once again chuckling like an idiot. The concept of one’s ‘first love’, as cheesy as it could be in dramas and novels, was nothing to laugh about, however. Often, the ‘first love’ stuck around in someone’s heart until the day they died.

“F-first love?” Y/N squeaked, and it dawned on her that she, herself, never experienced such a thing, so there was no way she could put herself in Seokjin’s shoes. “Are you still…?”

“In love? God, no,” Seokjin caught on to the unsaid, ever the perceptive one. “We realized early on we were better as friends, rather than lovers. She’s just a dear friend to me, now.”

Expecting to be placated upon hearing those words, Y/N’s brain was still chanting ‘she was my first love’ in Seokjin’s voice over and over in a loop like the creepy robed dudes in Eyes Wide Shut. All she could do was plaster a hopefully convincing impartial expression on her face, wishing another hybrid would bumble into the parlor and save her from her self-imposed humiliation.

“Oh! Um, well, it’ll be really nice to see her, huh? Sarah will probably contact me any day now, so we’ll set everything up, honey,” Y/N cleared her throat, praying her words didn’t come out like she was spitting them through her teeth. 

Y/N was engulfed in another organ-crushing hug, Seokjin thanking her profusely for finding out about Hannah for him, and swearing that he’ll have to bake some bread for Ben and his family to thank him as well. Nuzzling into his eucalyptus scented chest, Y/N concentrated on getting over herself; it wasn’t fair that she was letting her growing feelings for Seokjin get in the way of his relationship between him and his longtime friend– and former lover, she mentally added, bitterly so. She was only soothed by the gentle purring vibrating from Seokjin, the heavy weight of his tail wrapping around her hips. 

When she broke free after several moments, the tip of Seokjin’s nose pink, he announced that he wanted to clean up and take a shower before dinner, but Y/N suspected he was a touch embarrassed for crying in front of her. As he stood, he doubled back, planting a kiss on her forehead swiftly before scurrying out of the room like he was on fire. Reeling, Y/N sat statue still for the length of three commercials, attempting to unpack everything she had just experienced, until she broke free from Seokjin’s spell and switched off the television. 

“Yoongi? Angel, where are you?” Y/N had been milling around the house for thirty minutes trying to find her leopard hybrid so they could start on the dough for the cookies they were planning to make. 

She elected to freshen up after her conversation with Seokjin and showered, changing into some leisure wear. Y/N had already checked up on Namjoon, who was busy reading– she encouraged him to set up the chessboard in the parlor for later, but he claimed he wanted to finish reading the next few chapters of his book club selection, so she didn’t push him. 

Meanwhile, Hoseok had left her a sticky note on the fridge that he had gone for a run around the neighborhood, something that wasn’t unusual for him, Taehyung and Jimin were still outside, and she didn’t typically bother Jeongguk unless she was absolutely desperate to talk to him. That left only Yoongi available for her to pester, if she could find the slippery little bastard. 

“Angellll?” Y/N poked her head into the music room, to see if he had fallen asleep on the leather loveseat in front of the record player again. Alas, he was nowhere to be seen, and he had left all of the candles in the room lit and unoccupied. Frowning, she had run out of places to look for him– all of his usual spots were void of his presence. There was one last place to check; his bedroom. 

Y/N hadn’t gone into Yoongi’s bedroom since she adopted him, but he had chosen one of the tower rooms, so she pivoted and started down the hall with a pout. Yoongi was never one to ignore her, and would always appear whenever she’d call his name, so she was a little peeved. 

“Hey, Yoongi, are you in there? I thought you and I were going to bake together,” Y/N couldn’t keep the whine out of her voice, and she didn’t even feel ashamed about it. “Yoongi, I can hear you grumbling. Let me in?”

She could picture the eye roll he was giving her from behind the wooden door to his room, but the muffled sound of sock-clad feet padding to the door had her grinning in victory. Gotcha. 

As the door opened, Y/N was smacked in the face with the cologne-scented candle Yoongi liked to burn in his room, and she got a wider-than-usual visual of the bedroom than she would whenever she’d drop off his clean laundry at the door. Yoongi, dressed in sweatpants and a long-sleeved white tee shirt, wordlessly stepped aside so she could enter his room. 

“Are you avoiding me or something? I feel like I haven’t seen you all day, angel!” Y/N pouted, taking a seat on his desk chair with her arms crossed. His room was quite neat, but there was sheet music strewn about on his desk, handwritten notes scrawled across the pages. 

“No, I’m not avoiding you,” Yoongi similarly crossed his arms, leisurely sitting down on the foot of his bed across from her. “I practiced in the driveway for a little while with Foxy, came up here to shower, and then I planned out the next few piano lessons for you. Besides, weren’t you a little preoccupied with Seokjin?”

Taken aback at Yoongi’s flat, disinterested tone, Y/N blinked at him with shock. Yoongi never spoke to her with such a tone, and it certainly caught her off guard. 

“Okay, what’s up with you? Did I say or do something to offend?” Y/N demanded, recalling how he had been grouchy during breakfast as well. “Wait, do you need to scent? Is that it?”

“No, I’m fine, Y/N,” Yoongi responded quietly, looking out his window distractedly, like he couldn’t meet her eyes. His long hair was messy, like he was running his hands through it all day, and his tail was flicking back and forth on the bed behind him in an agitated manner. “Nothing’s wrong. How’s Seokjin?”

“He’s alright, why so curious all of a sudden?”

Silence. The awkward tension was entirely new between them, and it set Y/N on edge. She decided to try again. 

“There was something he asked me to find out about his past, I was just updating him on the news,” Y/N didn’t think she should divulge much more than that to keep Seokjin’s privacy, but she also didn’t want to ponder on the thought of Seokjin and Hannah’s reunion for much longer. 

“The past, huh?” Yoongi muttered cryptically, heaving himself off of the bed and moving so he could stand by his window overlooking the front yard, a scowl on his face. 

Y/N really only had a few clues about Yoongi’s past; he hadn’t really brought it up too many times. What he did bring up was working at the bar in Boston, with vague details, but that was all. Yoongi didn’t even know that Y/N had found out about his mother’s death via his report sheet on the hybrid database, and she wasn’t bringing that up at all until he did. 

So, Y/N didn’t really understand why Yoongi was being so weird. Was he hoping she was going to pry into his past? He hadn’t shown interest in discussing it before, so Y/N had no reason to fish around for information and risk opening old wounds for him. 

“Yeah, the past. Seokjin had me find out about a friend of his from the circus he was a part of. I’m sure if you ask him about it, he’ll tell you,” Y/N spoke slowly, waiting for the tension to break and for him to make some kind of wisecrack. 

“Do you remember everything from your past?” Yoongi voiced his question to the window, rather than Y/N herself, so close to the glass his breath fogged it up. 

Y/N thought that was an odd question. Everything? 

“I mean, I remember specific memories, if that’s what you mean, but I don’t remember every single thing that has ever happened to me,” Y/N felt like she was trying to answer some kind of riddle, and no answer would end up being correct. 

“Ugh,” Yoongi grunted, clearly not hearing what he wanted to. “Okay, let me rephrase. Has there ever been a time where you’ve forgotten something or someone completely from the past, like it was erased from your mind?”

“Is this a riddle, Yoongi?” Y/N blurted, bewildered. His ears flattened against his skull, back still turned to her. “I mean, say that something like that has happened to me. How would I even know? If it was like it was erased from my mind, how would I even remember the person or the event at all?”

She felt like she was talking in circles, and she wished that Yoongi would just tell her what all of this was about. He might have been a mind reader, but she certainly wasn’t. 

“Nevermind, Y/N, it doesn’t matter. Come on, let’s get started on dinner,” Yoongi sighed, his shoulders drooping as he briskly left the room and Y/N sitting at his desk in confusion. 

“Joonie, I’m rustier than I thought,” Y/N complained, sitting across from the wolf hybrid as he kicked her ass for the second time during their chess match. He smirked, and she wanted to reach across the table and wipe that grin off of his face with her thumb. “Besides, you cheated. You read like five books on strategy. Not fair.”

“Don’t be a sore loser, Y/N, darling,” Hoseok called over his shoulder, curled up on the sofa in front of the TV. While his head was turned, Y/N gave him the finger, watching the fox hybrid snort with glee at the bitter gesture. 

“Honestly, Y/N, I really wasn’t even using any of the strategies, I think you might just be terrible at chess,” Namjoon leaned back in his seat, amusement all over his handsome face. 

She squawked in offense, pelting a pawn at his broad chest, the wooden piece hitting one of his pecs and unceremoniously clattering to the floor. Namjoon simply raised an eyebrow at her, as if to challenge her to try that again, before plucking the piece off of the floor with his elegant– and apparently, talented, fingers. 

It was a Friday, and it was one of the afternoons that was free of any events at the rec center. Y/N was blowing her entire paycheck from Judy’s on gas and groceries alone, but the added $3,000 she was getting monthly from boarding the horses was nicely supplementing her income. She spent the morning with Jimin, helping him give the horses baths, took a walk with Taehyung around the neighborhood to take some pictures for his clubs, and was now getting kicked in the ass by Namjoon on the chessboard. All the while, Jeongguk, Hoseok, and Seokjin were going through Quentin Tarantino’s entire filmography– currently on Kill Bill. 

“Christ, the blood is so fake looking. Did they even fucking try?” Jeongguk pointed out from his spot on the recliner, between a mouthful of popcorn Seokjin had brought out for them all. 

“Gratuitous violence, obvious fake blood. That’s Tarantino for you,” Y/N stood stiffly from her seat, waving an imaginary white flag. “You win, Joonie, I give up for today. Loan me one of those strategy books, why don’t you, so I can stop embarrassing myself?”

Before Namjoon could reply, Jeongguk had more commentary to offer, scoffing at the TV. 

“Tarantino. I heard he’s a fucking douche canoe,” Jeongguk stuffed more popcorn into his mouth, and Y/N had never seen him look less intimidating in her life. 

Seokjin audibly winced at Jeongguk’s word choices, glaring at him disapprovingly. Y/N, however, had to choke down her laughter in the palm of her hand. 

“Sure he is, but he makes great movies,” Y/N agreed, making her way to the back of the sofa, soothingly giving Hoseok a light scalp scratch. Violence corny or not, the fox hybrid wasn’t a huge fan of blood and guts. 

Unfortunately for the hybrids in the parlor, Namjoon joining the others by sitting on the floor by Seokjin’s feet, Y/N had to part with them. It was about time for her weekly piano lesson, and for once, she wasn’t eager for it. 

Since that previous Tuesday, Yoongi had been acting strangely around her. He wasn’t nearly as clingy as he always was, and his replies to all of her questions and comments were clipped and quite short. Honestly, it depressed her quite a bit, and she spent hours at night staring at her ceiling combing through her memories to find something that might have caused his change in demeanor.

Trudging up the stairs slowly, Y/N paused halfway up, listening to the sweet melody of the song Yoongi was currently playing on the piano. It had become her absolute favorite tune that he played, and she had a hypothesis that Yoongi might have composed it himself. Sensing her approach from the stairs, the song was cut off halfway, disappointment flooding though Y/N. She wondered why he never played it right in front of her. 

“Hi, Yoongi,” Y/N slipped into the room, promptly perching herself beside him on the piano bench. Her heart ached looking at him, purplish circles under his usually vibrant hazel eyes, as if he hadn’t been getting enough sleep. “What are we doing today?”

“I figured we could attempt something more difficult. ‘Someone Like You’, Adele,” Yoongi tapped on the sheet music he had printed out, missing the spark of excitement that lit up Y/N’s face. Usually, they’d do short tunes, nothing that one would hear on the radio. She must be improving, in his opinion. 

Not making his usual small talk, Yoongi dove into teaching her patiently, all business. Y/N jolted whenever his foot would press over hers on the sustain pedal, so embarrassingly starved for his touch it was humiliating. She didn’t know how to get back to how they were prior to that week, but she felt like she needed it more than she needed to breathe. 

They made it up to the chorus by the time an hour had passed, and that was typically how long Yoongi would teach her before Y/N’s wrists would get sore. Massaging them, Y/N bit her lip, watching Yoongi scrawl a note where they left off in the score, his hair hanging in his face and curtaining it from her. 

“Yoongi, what’s that song you always play when you’re alone?” Y/N tried to get him to stay with her longer, to open up, anything. She wasn’t sure if it was the right topic to bring up, but again, she was desperate. 

Yoongi stilled, pushing hair behind his ears and finally looking her in the eye. When he could smell the melancholy coming off of her in suffocating waves, his features softened, and he felt like he could tell her anything that she wanted to know. 

“It’s just something I play mindlessly,” Yoongi dismissed, tongue peaking out to moisten his lips. “I wrote it a long time ago.”

“I thought that you might have written it,” Y/N brightened up a little, suddenly very impressed with Yoongi’s talent. “It’s beautiful, I love it. Why don’t you ever play it for me?”

Yoongi went pink, shockingly, and diverted his eyes at once. Y/N wasn’t having it anymore. 

“Yoongi, can you tell me what’s wrong? You’ve been distant all week, and if it was something I said or did, I want to make amends,” Y/N begged, her voice fraying at the end– she felt like she was going to have a nervous breakdown at that point. “I really miss you.”

Her final utterance was soft, broken, and small. Yoongi’s head immediately whipped up, smelling the salinity of tears gathering in the corner of Y/N’s eyes, and he suddenly felt like the world’s biggest prick. 

“Come here, I miss you too, sweetheart,” Yoongi broke down, pulling Y/N in for a hug by her waist, gently wrapping his arms around her middle as she swallowed down her tears. “I’m sorry, don’t cry, please, don’t cry because of me. I’m an asshole.”

“No you’re not,” Y/N sniffed into his chest, soothed by the scent of his spiced vanilla shampoo. She hadn’t been close enough to smell that comforting scent in days, but it felt like a lifetime. “You’re just stubborn. Is this about Tuesday? Your questions about me forgetting things from the past?”

“You can just forget about it, sweetheart, really. I’m sorry for being moody, it’s just…” Yoongi trailed off, looking conflicted and pained. 

“I’m not going to forget it, it’s clearly bothering you. Say your piece,” Y/N pulled away from Yoongi, staring at him expectantly. She wasn’t letting him out of her sight until whatever was on his mind was hashed out. 

Yoongi slouched on the bench running both hands through his hair and appearing to sort out his thoughts, perhaps figuring out where to begin. 

“Y/N, you went to school in Boston, right?” Yoongi spoke after several excruciating seconds, not waiting for her response but charging on, “I was born in Boston. Unlike most hybrids, I was born naturally, not created in a lab. My mom and I worked under the table at that bar I mentioned, The Black Lodge, remember?”

“I remember,” Y/N confirmed, having no ever-loving clue where he was going with this. 

“So, you never went to that bar? Think back, do you ever remember walking by it, hearing about it from someone?” Yoongi pressed, even though Y/N was almost positive she had no knowledge of that bar prior to adopting Yoongi. “It was near Chinatown. By that basketball court you mentioned you used to pass by on your way to school.”

“No, I’m sorry Yoongi… I don’t remember ever going to a bar called The Black Lodge.”

Yoongi sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose delicately and nodding to himself. 

“I might not have gone to that bar, but honestly, Yoongi, since I’ve adopted you, I couldn’t help but feel this sense of familiarity with you. It’s the strangest thing. Have we… Have we met before? Is that what you meant the other day, about forgetting someone you’ve met before?”

Yoongi glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, hope sparkling there. Was it true? They have met prior to that day at the shelter? Why couldn’t Y/N remember it?

“Maybe,” Yoongi straightened up, apparently wanting her to piece everything together herself. Y/N was trying, despairingly so, not believing she could ever meet Yoongi and forget him in a hurry. 

“Maybe? Yoongi, be serious, have we met before? Why can’t you just tell me?” Y/N gave up her memory combing in favor of accusing Yoongi, her temper getting the best of her. 

Yoongi stood, groaning in frustration. He strode across the room, shutting the French doors to the music room, effectively making their conversation private. For good measure, the leopard hybrid pressed down on the pin that locked them inside, to prevent interruptions. The hair on the back of Y/N’s neck stood on end, not expecting Yoongi to act that way. 

“The Black Lodge, it was a fucked up place. I don’t really know exactly what was wrong with it, if it was cursed, some kind of fucking portal like those losers on paranormal shows you and Jeongguk watch talk about, or if it was built on a magical tectonic plate that made it the fucked up place that it was,” Yoongi collapsed onto the leather loveseat, head tipped back as he ranted. 

“What do you mean?” Y/N furrowed her eyebrows, completely lost. Any sort of paranormal subject matter was something that didn’t typically interest Yoongi. He tolerated talking about it, but he wasn’t one to bring it up. 

“What I mean, sweetheart, is that you were there. One year ago, you were in The Black Lodge, on a Friday night, by yourself. But you can’t remember, because everyone who comes into the bar forgets it as soon as they leave,” Yoongi finally revealed, his voice tired and resigned. “Me, being the fucked up exception, of course.”

A pin could drop, and it would sound like a gunshot. Y/N, who had been standing by the piano, began to feel dizzy from this confession, so she woodenly walked to the loveseat and dropped down heavily beside Yoongi. His spotted ears perked up with her movement, but he seemed to give her a few moments to process. 

“How is that possible? It can’t be, there’s no way… there’s no way…” Y/N babbled, Yoongi using a hand to rub slow circles on her back. “I met you a year ago? How could I? How could I possibly forget you?” 

“Everyone forgets The Black Lodge, except for those who actually work there, for some reason. Patrons forget, and they usually never come back. You were not exempt from that, no matter how much I wanted to believe you would be,” Yoongi murmured, and Y/N realized that he had been holding on to all of this information for months, probably waiting to see if she would ever recover the memory. 

“Did we talk at all? Yoongi, I swear, I would have remembered if we did. This doesn’t make any sense,” Y/N started to feel delirious, staring at Yoongi imploringly. 

Yoongi’s hand on her back became motionless, resting over a shoulder blade. Though he definitely looked relieved to finally be sharing all of this with her, Y/N could tell there were things that he was holding back. Reeling too much to pry, she waited for him to speak again. 

“Yes, we talked. After I played piano for a bit, you approached me. I made you drinks, and we talked for a while.”

Expelling a breath she had been holding, Y/N took a look, a good look at Yoongi, soaking in every feature, every strand of hair on his head, the twitch of an ear, the shape of his jaw. That ever-present emotion, the sense of familiarity, returned tenfold, and suddenly she couldn’t deny that Yoongi was telling the truth. 

“So you must have recognized me at the shelter? You should have said something, Yoongi,” Y/N said mournfully, feeling bad that he had been holding onto this for so long, waiting for her to remember him. It formed a sour pit in her stomach. 

“I didn’t really know how to. I could tell the day you came in, you had no idea who I was,” Yoongi replied gently, still looking like he was holding onto a key bit of information. “You know, when you came in, I thought you recognized me, even though I was shifted. I thought you came back the next morning to adopt me, but then you adopted the other six as well…”

Y/N’s heart started to race, the conversation taking a more intimate, meaningful turn, and it had her head spinning. 

“I couldn’t leave you all there,” Y/N breathed, Yoongi nodding along with her response. 

“I know that. I also know you’re not totally well-versed in hybrid behavior, let alone for hybrids like all of us, but there’s something I should tell you. We’re not, by nature, entirely fond of having to share the human who adopts us. That’s why you’ve had a hard time with some of them, like Namjoon and Jeongguk. Myself, well, I wish I could say it didn’t bother me like it did them, but I’d be lying to you.”

“What?” Y/N, like she was shocked by a live wire, felt her stomach doing somersaults, the room becoming insufferably hot around her. “S-share me? I–”

“We’ve all made peace with it, of course,” Yoongi cut her off, not wanting to give her the wrong idea. “We’re all happy here, I think, with you. I just thought that telling you that would give you some perspective on the jealousy that will probably worsen over time.”

“Yoongi, I don’t even know what to say…” 

“Y/N, I know how you feel,” Yoongi interrupted once more, his expression serious as his hand shifted from her shoulder blade to her upper arm. “About us, all of us. For now, I think I’m the only one who knows, but you can’t hide it from them forever.”

With this statement, Y/N actually flinched off of the loveseat, shooting across the room to gawk at Yoongi with astonishment. 

“What are you talking about? The fact that I care about all of you? I think we’ve established that,” Y/N attempted to throw Yoongi off, just in case he was getting at what she thought he was. No way. Was she about to get rejected, her romantic feelings snuffed out like a flame?

“Call it that, sure, Y/N. Take your time to process your feelings, and we’ll talk about it then,” Yoongi sighed, standing and moving towards the door, apparently trying to end the conversation and move on with their evening. Not on Y/N’s watch. 

“Oh, no way, Yoongi, you can’t just say something like that and expect me to drop it,” Y/N gripped his wrist, blood rushing in her ears as he looked down at her through his lashes. “Besides, there’s something you’re not telling me. The whole thing about us meeting at The Black Lodge and everything, it doesn’t add up.”

“How so?” Yoongi lifted a brow at the change of subject, eyes on her hand encircling his wrist. 

“Well, if what you say is true, and everyone who patrons that bar forgets about it and never comes back, you’ve must have met thousands of people over the years. What about me was so memorable?” Y/N challenged, shock settling over Yoongi’s face, almost comically so. 

“Are you serious?” 

“Deadly. What, did I spill my drink on you?”

“No, I told you, we talked. I made you a drink, some kind of gin martini. You left, and you never came back,” Yoongi explained, his never-ending patience seemingly beginning to wear thin. 

“What did we talk about?” Y/N began to pry, secretly pleased that she had distracted him enough to not press the whole ‘I know how you feel’ situation. 

“I don’t know, Y/N, your classes? The weather, piano? Normal stuff.”

“So talking about university classes, the shitty weather, and music left enough of an impression on you to recognize me after a year?” 

“What exactly do you want me to say, sweetheart? I can’t help that I remember that night and you don’t!” Yoongi exclaimed, his voice raising a tad as annoyance washed over him. 

“I want you to tell me what you’re keeping from me.”

They glared at each other, the only sound in the room from the metronome ticking away on the piano that Yoongi had forgotten to switch off. Shaking her grip from his wrist, Yoongi pushed back some of his hair again, sucking his teeth. 

“Fine. You asked for my number,” Yoongi admitted, watching Y/N’s expression carefully. 

“Okay, yeah, that sounds like me. Again, something that probably happened to you all the time, I mean look at you,” Y/N was unconvinced this was the bombshell, Yoongi making a noise of exasperation. “I’m just going to assume you let me down gently, I was tipsy, and I said something embarrassing. Trying to pry this out of you is like pulling teeth, and I should get going on dinner.”

With that, Y/N unlocked the door to the music room, marching out into the hallway in embarrassment and making it halfway to the stairs before a grasp on her elbow yanked her back, Y/N’s world turning upside-down as Yoongi easily slung her over his shoulders in a fireman’s carry. Too stunned to make a noise, she limply felt Yoongi carry her into his bedroom, kicking his door shut behind them and setting her down on her feet, his eyes flashing with anger. 

“Will you just listen to me for a second?” Yoongi hissed, clamping his wiry hand over her mouth before she could cuss him out. This was her first spat with Yoongi, and it had her blood positively boiling. Shouldn’t this have been a tender moment, finding out that she really had known Yoongi all along?

“You came into the bar, torn up over a shitty exam result. I noticed you sitting at the bar while I finished up my set, but when I got up, you were heading my way. You complimented my playing and whatnot, and complained that the drink the bartender made you wasn’t stiff enough,” Yoongi articulated each word with precision, as if he was reliving the memory mentally. “I offered to make one for you. Like I said, we talked about your classes, the weather, music, and as the night went on, more personal things. You told me about your house, your friends, your family. I liked talking to you, so I sat beside you and we continued our conversation.”

Under his palm, Y/N’s cheeks were burning up, and she knew that Yoongi could feel it. She was hooked on every word, and she was convinced there was nothing in this world that existed other than Yoongi. 

“After a while, you asked me to show you where the bathroom was, and that you were thinking about heading out. I waited for you outside of the bathroom to say goodbye– I didn’t really want to, because I knew I’d never see you again, but I figured I’d have to suck it up– and you walked right up to me, pushed me against a wall–”

Y/N yelped from beneath Yoongi’s palm, ice-cold dread flooding through her. Oh no, she threw herself at him. He was right, she was better off not knowing. He pressed on, ignoring the noise she made. 

“You pushed me against the wall, dug a pen out of your purse, and demanded that I write my number down on your forearm. That, I promise you, hasn’t happened before. I’ve gotten numbers, but I never handed mine out– what’s the point, if they don’t remember you?”

When Yoongi was satisfied Y/N wouldn’t start hollering at him, he dropped his palm, tracing a pointer finger down the length of Y/N’s forearm, goosebumps following in its wake. Heart still pounding, Y/N found that she was sufficiently shut up. 

“For the first time, I had hope that someone would remember me, outside of coworkers. Hope that you’d walk out of that fucking bar, go home, pick up the phone, and call. Remember. As I was writing my number down, you grabbed my hand, led me down the hall towards the kitchens for ‘one more drink’. I think we did a couple of shots of gin, but the possibility of you calling me the next day was fucking with my head too much to really focus on what the fuck we were drinking.”

“Yoongi,” Y/N whispered, overwhelmed and on the verge of passing out, honestly devastated she couldn’t remember this evening with Yoong. 

“Before you left, I walked you to the door. You were talking about how you wanted to take me to this concert the following Friday, making all these future plans. I just… never met anyone like you. I didn’t want you to leave, but I wanted you to leave just to see if you’d come back.”

“And I never did,” Y/N finished for him, hating the way Yoongi looked so regretful. “You waited, didn’t you?” 

“Yeah, I waited. I knew it wasn’t your fault, it was the fucking curse or whatever on the bar, but I waited. Each day that passed I grew less and less hopeful, until I realized you likely walked out of that bar and wondered why the hell you had a strange number on your arm.”

“Yoongi, I’m sorry,” Y/N sniffed, overcome with emotion. “I’m so sorry.”

“It isn’t your fault, it’s the bar, and whatever is wrong with it,” Yoongi shook his head, guiding Y/N to lean against his wall for support, her knees shaky and unsteady. “In the end, I got to see you again, after all.”

“I must have really liked talking to you, huh? Just like now. And you must have made me one hell of a drink to push you against a wall and demand for your number,” Y/N tried to lighten the mood, now angry with herself that she had backed Yoongi into a corner. 

“Yeah, I really liked talking to you too. I really liked you.”

An odd look crossed over Yoongi’s face as soon as those words left his mouth, absently reaching down to tuck hair behind Y/N’s ear. Heart galloping in her chest at the gravity, the meaning of what he just said, Y/N wanted to reach out and touch him, but was completely frozen. Yoongi’s lips dropped open to say something, but no sound came out. 

“What is it?” Y/N murmured, noting how close they were standing. 

“There’s something else I haven’t told you,” Yoongi’s gaze was intense, penetrating, and pleading. “I don’t know how you’ll react, though.”

“I’m sure there’s nothing that can shock me now, angel…” Y/N had motion in her limbs again, hand on Yoongi’s cheek to tilt his face back to her, his eyes searching and unsure. 

He leaned his cheek into her touch before pulling her hand away, still holding it and watching her every reaction. His tail, which was anxiously swishing behind him, began to curl around her leg, and Y/N stood transfixed as Yoongi pressed a featherlight kiss to the inside of her wrist, her palm, and finally the pad of her index finger. 

“That night, before you left. Before I said goodbye,” Yoongi whispered against her hand, maintaining their eye contact. “You asked me to kiss you, and I did.”

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 @gooooomz @uarmyhore @lopprhe @oopscoop @xicanacorpse @i-like-anime13 @hemziii @demarie04 @im-sinking-in-mud @talkyoongitome @bangtxnbxunch @primrose2507 @kihyunniesmonbebe @lilmxchis @7evensin @00ihatesnaku @neverthefirstchoice @sometingreallycool @cathy-1997

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[starryriize]

any nicholas fluff thoughts pls 🥺 ppl often depict him as some kind of tsundere bc of his looks but he's actually such a sweetheart and the members have said he's a genuinely kind and caring person. he said he even tried smiling more growing up so that people wouldn't find him so intimidating oh i want to protect him with my life 😭

delulu thoughts | nico

╰┈ ⋆｡˚ 🪼genre: fluff!!

╰┈ ⋆｡˚ 🪼author’s note: i agree nonnie 🫶🏼 he deserves the world!! anyways, i hope you enjoy this love :(( hehee i giggled while writing this 🤭

🫧laur’s taglist: @chiiyuuvv @kehnarii

⋆⑅˚₊ the type of bf to have a small smile as he watches you work! or just the look of love when he sees you do anything :((

⋆⑅˚₊ plays piano for you and sometimes puts on music as he takes your hands, leading you in a slow dance in the living room (stop he would do this idc)

⋆⑅˚₊ the type to pout but smile when you call him cute!! he knows that he can come off with the vibes of "big scary dog" but like most big dogs, he's a total softie 🥹

⋆⑅˚₊ strikes me as the type to pick you up randomly and just give you big hugs!! he gets all smiley while hugging you too :((

⋆⑅˚₊ when you feel sad, he's by your side in a comfortable silence as he gives you a reassuring look 🫶🏼 words aren’t always necessary when his eyes speak a thousand words to you

⋆⑅˚₊ “why did you do that?” and “because i care” type of relationship!! he cares so much about you that he always remembers the tiniest details about you :((

⋆⑅˚₊ he’d take you on really cute dates and a lot of them are pure fun!! would buy the matching souvenirs and play games for you so he can win you the biggest prize 😌

⋆⑅˚₊ the type to always reach for your hand!! he just loves knowing that you’re his makes him feel like he saved a world in his past life🥹🫶🏼

⋆⑅˚₊ loves it when you play with his hair and let him lay down on your lap :((( it’s so comforting to him, especially after a long day in the practice room

⋆⑅˚₊ when you dress up together for a fancy occasion and you tell him that everyone's staring at him because he looks so handsome, he replies, "no love, they're staring at you." (argh stop i'm giggling even thinking about this) 🤭

⋆⑅˚₊ the type of romance that you only read about and used to dream of having! he entered your life and made you believe in true love :( the way he puts you first no matter what too :(( please it's so incredibly sweet

⋆⑅˚₊ his friends most definitely tease him when they catch him staring at you so lovingly, saying things like, "nico, when are you going to propose??" and he just stops. he secretly knows that you're definitely the one for him.

⋆⑅˚₊ often asks you why you love him because he fears that his intimidating looks might cause you to leave one day, but you always reassure him 🥹 you love him for who he is and that he has the most genuine soul and a pure heart :((

⋆⑅˚₊ he regales you with stories of his childhood and his time on i-land as you listen to each and every tale!! and then asks about your childhood while he's giggling at every word you say 😭 (he's so cute pls)

⋆⑅˚₊ KARAOKE DATES!!! hear me out when i say that he loves nostalgia and fun like...the carefree vibes! when you start dancing while singing off-key, he bursts out laughing, and at this point, both of you are just enjoying the vibes 😭😌

⋆⑅˚₊ when you're sad, he's holding you tight and letting you cry on his shirt! he's willing to listen if you want to and he holds your hands to reassure you that he's not going anywhere! through thick and thin, he'll be by your side 🫶🏼 (he gives forehead kisses too)

⋆⑅˚₊ overall, a green flag!! he's a gentleman and kind-hearted so please don't ever break his heart <3

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[blackleatherjacketz]

Shadow and Sin: Chapter 3

Klaus Mikaelson x Female Reader

Summary: Having just moved to New Orleans, you get intimately acquainted with both Mikaelson brothers, but don't find out who they truly are until it's too late.

This Chapter: Your brother warns you against Elijah, so you get a Tarot reading to clear things up, only to be interrupted by Klaus.

Warnings: Brotherly Warnings, Witches, Alcohol, Tarot, Compulsion, Negging, Manipulation, Holding Hands, Kissing, Biting, Blood Play

Word Count: 2.7k+

Read the rest of the story HERE

“That Elijah guy really creeps me out, you know.” Austin tells you as he haphazardly enters your apartment. He makes his way over to the middle of your living room before throwing himself down on the sofa, opening his Styrofoam container of pad Thai

“Creeps you out? You met him for like five seconds!” You juggle your to-go box and two bottles of water as you kick the refrigerator door shut, setting them both down on the coffee table next to him. Your brother always had something bad to say about the men whose company you kept, but he seemed painfully vigilant about this one. “What do you even mean?”

“I dunno, sis, there’s something off about him. I can’t quite put my finger on it, but like… who wears a three piece suit like that in New Orleans?” He shakes his head and takes a bite of his noodles as if he hadn’t eaten in days, which very may well be the case. “And an all black one, at that?”

“Maybe he’s a local,” you argue with a shrug, having noticed that particular strange detail yourself. “Maybe the heat doesn’t bother him like it bothers us?”

“No, his accent isn’t from here.” He shakes his head and takes another bite before taking his time to swallow. “Whatever it is, I don’t like it. You’re always way too trusting of people, and it’s going to get the best of you one of these days.”

“Oh, shut up, you don’t like anyone.” You roll your eyes and twist the noodles onto your fork, slightly blowing for them to cool. “Maybe he just came from a funeral… or maybe he’s a vampire, and that’s why he’s cold enough to wear all those layers.” You joke with a dramatic tone, finally taking your first bite.

“Vampires aren’t real, sis. How many times do I have to tell you that?” Despite living in the most magical city in the world, your brother remains one of the most defiantly skeptical people you’d ever known. He refuses to believe in the supernatural despite the local legends, convinced instead that Louisiana has the highest homicide rate in the country due to the fault of human beings alone.

“So, what is it this time, then, huh? The vibes are off? His handshake wasn’t as strong as you wanted it to be? He didn’t look you in the eye for the correct amount of time before looking back down at the floor?” You call him out of his chronically obsessive behavior, referencing reasons he’s given you in the past for not liking certain people. “All we did was talk about books, anyway.”

“Uh-huh.” It was his turn to roll his eyes as he chewed on his noodles. “I know that look.”

“What look?” You ask sheepishly, hoping you weren’t imagining how Elijah was staring at you in the library.

“Just be careful.”

———————————————

The city is more alive after your brother passes out on your couch, and you slip out into the heavy night air, leaving him nothing but a note that you locked up tight and would be back before morning. You know you’d never hear the end of it if you didn’t tell him where you were, even if he had never done the same for you in return. Classic Austin.

The absence of the sun does little to bring down the temperature and humidity of this place, making it feel as if a thick blanket of heat rests on your shoulders, wrapping itself around your torso and legs as you attempt to seem unaffected by it, the beads of sweat on your skin no doubt giving you away. Everyone else in the crowd around you either seems to embrace it, not to notice, or be far too inebriated to even care. You duck in between a few drunk and disorderly tourists, a splash of watermelon slushie getting spilled in your hair before you’re able to walk into the voodoo shop that most people were too scared to enter.

“You shouldn’t be here, baby. It’s dangerous after dark.” The old lady behind the counter tells you, looking up from her ancient spell book. The wrinkles on her face tell the story of decades of magic, of life in the quarter that your brother would never even pretend to believe as the power within her vibrates the air around you, reminding you of what drew you to this city to begin with.

“The sign out front says that you do tarot readings.” You pull a twenty dollar bill out of your pocket and gently place it on the counter, pushing it toward her. “Would you be willing to do one for me?”

“You sure you want that?” Her voice is cautious as she looks you over, her eyes whitened with age as they peer into your very soul.

“I’m sure.” You’ve been dying to have your cards read so that you might know what to expect, to see if the fates can prove your brother wrong about his misconceptions about the man in the library.

“Alright, baby.” She smiles and shuffles the deck, slowly singing a song to herself in the process as three cards slowly fall out onto the counter in front of you. “Let’s see, here.”

She turns the first one over slowly before looking up at you, almost as if to make sure you’re paying attention. “The Moon. You’re going to have to choose between two paths, although it may not be clear which one is good and which one is bad. You can rely on the light of the moon to guide you, though, child. Don’t forget that.” She wags a finger in your face and turns the next card over. “The Emperor, a strong masculine figure will enter your life. He is rigid on control and order, but he’s also one who will serve you well. Don’t dismiss him too quickly, now.” She smiles at you before her hand hovers over the last card for what seems like forever, shaking a little before flipping it upright.

“The King of Swords… reversed.” She gives you a wary look, inhaling deeply before lifting her palm up to face you, as if that will help ease your mind somehow. “Don’t you worry now…”

“Don’t worry? You look worried!” Your eyes widen as your heart begins to race, wondering what could be so damn scary about this card that could frighten this old woman to the point of shaking.

Before she can answer you, the bell jingling above the door breaks your train of thought. The woman’s face suddenly drops as if she’d just seen a ghost, her expression far worse than when she saw your third card. She pats your hand affectionately as if to tell you that she’s all done with you, that you can go now, before letting go of your fingers. Without a word, she hurriedly collects your cards, making sure to shuffle them evenly back into the deck before taking a deep breath and glancing up at the new customer.

“What have we here? A little midnight tarot reading, is it?” You’d recognize that voice anywhere as it resonates deep within your bones, his very presence prickling your skin into an uneven pattern of excitable gooseflesh. “Consulting the fates before deciding to give me a call, love?”

“No harm in that, is there?” The woman answers for you, plastering a more believable smile onto her face as your benefactor slowly approaches the both of you.

“I suppose not.” He looks at you with a dark grin before addressing her again. “And what did the cards tell you this time, Marie? Anything you’d like to share with the class?”

“You know I can’t tell you that. The reading’s for her, and her alone.” She continues to shuffle the deck, making sure to lose your cards along the way. “Although I’d be happy to read your cards if you’d like.”

“Oh, I don’t think that will be necessary.” He smirks, standing right next to you as he leans against the counter. “I’ve had them read more than enough times in my lifetime.”

God, he smells good.

“What can I do for you this time, wolf?” Marie asks him with a pained familiarity.

“Wolf?” You repeat, trying to make sense of the growing knot tying into your stomach.

Klaus laughs nervously, turning that angelic face of his toward you. “That’s just a little term of endearment Marie uses for me.” He pauses and waits for her to agree with a silent nod. “Wolf, baby, love, darling… you’ve heard one, you’ve heard them all, isn’t that right, love?”

“That’s right, ‘love’,” she corrects herself.

You can tell that Marie’s afraid of him. You can see it in her eyes, plain as day, but for some reason, as soon as Klaus looks at you, you hear a voice in your head telling you not to fear him. It calms your nerves and reassures you that her trepidation is unfounded, telling you that you can trust him with your life. It’s a new, very odd feeling that makes the knot in your stomach seem to unravel and disappear entirely without much of an explanation at all.

————————————————

“I was right about you, wasn’t I? You’re a believer.” Klaus glances over at you knowingly as you lead him through the quarter toward your apartment. Although his tone is light and flirty, his eyes are very serious.

“A believer? What happened to me being morbidly disturbed?” You vaguely remember the three cards Marie had given you, but decide not to focus on them for now. Instead you decide to focus on how closely his hand brushes against yours with each stride, how electric it makes you feel as he walks beside you.

“I don’t see why the two can’t coexist within that beautiful body of yours.” He raises an eyebrow as his pinky finger hooks in between your thumb and forefinger, sending a jolt of warmth up your spine. “As your benefactor and mentor, I find it my duty to inform you of the dangers that lurk in the darkest corners of this city, witches being one of them.”

“Witchcraft is real?” You ask point blank, cutting through any witty banter you might otherwise throw his way.

“Oh, I’m afraid so, love. Every story you’ve ever heard hushed whispers of, every suspicious tradition carried on by the locals, every legend of lore uttered by a tour guide…they’re all true. It’s a way of hiding in plain sight. They get to practice their way of life while the tourists are none the wiser. It’s a pretty convenient arrangement, really.”

“And you know all this, how?” Your heart skips a beat as he speaks so plainly about the supernatural presence in this city, giving you hope that you’ve found a like-minded person. You’ve always suspected that the stories were true, but never talked about it with anyone this openly.

“Oh, I’ve lived here for centuries,” he exaggerates with a cocky glare. “But it won’t take you that long to notice all the magic that’s in this city, to see just how dangerous it can be for someone like you.”

“Someone like me? What does that mean? Every city is dangerous, Klaus.” You take his warning with a grain of salt, but you still heed it, keeping his words in the back of your head and saving them for later. “And what do you mean, my mentor?” You allow him to take hold of your hand completely, wrapping his fingers around it with a squeeze.

“Did I fail to mention that I’m a painter, as well?” He laughs as you turn a corner on the sidewalk, your apartment building just a few doors down now. “It must have slipped my mind the moment I saw you and your work.” He gives you a beguiling smirk, his lips flushing a light rosy hue. “You were both so enchanting.”

“Really?” You smile at his confession, blushing at his compliment. “What do you paint?” That smirk of his suggests that he feels the growing warmth that’s spreading all over your chest and neck as it slowly makes its way into your core, that maybe he’s been feeling it all along.

“I tend to focus a bit more on abstract ideas, landscapes, skylines, things like that. Painting for me is a way to… clear my head when I need to escape, but it’s nothing as political or bold as your work.” He pauses, rubbing your knuckles with his thumb. “That being said, with the right funding and guidance, I think yours could be astoundingly better.”

“Better?” You try not to sound offended, but his words cut like a knife as you arrive at your doorstep, steeping in the awkward silence before he speaks again.

Does he even like your artwork at all?

“Oh, don’t be cross with me, love.” He releases your hand and slowly turns toward you, plating both palms over your hair to better look into your eyes. “The things I could show you if only you’d let me into your mind, into your creative process, in here,” he presses his middle and forefinger against your chest, pointing at your heart as he brings his face closer to yours. “I could help you discover so many new things, teach you techniques you haven’t even dreamed of, make you see stars brighter than the hottest summer’s day.”

Is he still talking about art?

His words fan that warmth inside you into a spark, unable to stop your body’s chemical reaction to his touch or the hypnotic sound of his velvety voice. You know deep down that something that burns this hot can’t possibly keep you alight for very long, but like a moth to the flame, you can’t help but be drawn to the fire within him. It’s been so long since you’ve allowed yourself to be consumed by anyone else’s madness, to be engulfed by their passion, but if this is what burns you down to mere embers, then so be it.

“I can do that.” You nod, eyelids fluttering as his lips feather over yours, parting ever so slightly before you decide to stand on your tiptoes and kiss him.

He tastes just as good as he smells, the faint flavor of whiskey and copper parting your lips as you breathe in his citrusy scent, committing it to memory. You moan as his tongue clashes against yours, exciting every neuron in your body as your hands end up in his dirty blonde curls, tugging and pulling him in even closer to you. You can feel his breath quicken as his chest rises and falls against yours, his hands mapping out every inch of your neck and shoulders as he greedily sucks your bottom lip between his teeth. Step by step, he walks you backward against the wall, his hips needily pinning you in place as his kiss greedily deepens to the point of breaking your skin.

You gasp as he pulls back just enough for you to notice your blood on his lip, his eyes seeming to darken with desire before he languidly licks it off, looking you in the eye to see how you’ll react.

Your eyes widen, uncertain if you’re actually witnessing what you think you are. Did he just bite down hard enough to draw blood and then… lick it?

He holds onto you with that wanton stare, watching the wheels turn inside your head as you try to register what’s happening. He tilts his head to the side to see if fear or disgust will override your carnal desire for him before he gently brushes his thumb across your bottom lip, collecting the rest of your blood. The salt of his skin stings your exposed tissue as he tugs it downward before bringing it up to his own mouth to taste.

“Klaus,” you start, the pain in your lip barely outweighing your need to keep kissing him.

The sight of your blood on his lips somehow triggers something deep within you, something he already knew was there from the very second he laid eyes on you. Like some kind of dark and twisted Manchurian Candidate, he knew exactly how to draw it out of you, how to give you just enough to make you want a little bit more. How did he know something about you that you didn’t even know about yourself?

He merely grins in response, sucking his bloodstained thumb as he keeps those enchanting eyes of his locked onto yours. “I look forward to mentoring you, love.”

[koisuko]

Hello! Could I request a MK1 one-shot or headcannons of either Tomâs, Kuai Liang, or Bi-Han with a quiet and shy reader who can manipulate water? Maybe the reader is more reserved and prefers to work by themselves but is paired with ^ on a mission and they get closer to one another through different situations they’re put through?

Apologies this took so long, I realized I didn’t know much about Tomas and looked into him some more. Hope you enjoy it!

Gn reader, sfw, hcs

Tw: none, just fluff

You silently approach the doors of Liu Kang’s map room, faint conversation could be heard within. He had called you in for a special favor, a mission, the details still unknown to you. As you lightly knock, you could hear the conversation cease, a soft yet firm voice reaching your ears, “you may enter.” The doors creak open to reveal a rather unexpected sight, three men stand opposite Liu Kang as they surround a long map table. These men were unrecognizable to you, as they all turned to face your small frame. Liu Kang held a soft expression as he addressed you, “y/n, please come in, we have much to discuss.” You smile rather sheepishly, your head low and eyes focused on the wood beneath you, slowly approaching the wooden table. The men continued to stare you down, silently observing you. You kept your distance for the most part, watching Liu Kang’s hands as he guided the symbolic pieces across the paper, detailing the mission ahead:

Bi-Han

At first glance Bi-han would keep you at arms distance, very cold and reluctant to speak to you unless it was required of him.

He would most likely feel distaste in the fact that someone who “isn’t Lin Kuei” will be accompanying him on this mission, let alone just the two of you.

Likely cold and distant at first, only voicing his opinions on your fighting ability. Although the occasional “are you unharmed?” Does not go unnoticed on your end, earning a slight blush to grace your features.

His eyes are very expressive, many years of wearing a metal mask subconsciously taught him to do so, even if he tries to hide it.

His ego and cold demeanor would never allow him to admit it, but he was in fact intrigued by your ability to manipulate water.

He also might feel a sense of protectiveness over your shy and reclusive behavior.

Eventually you will learn that he may not speak words but his actions speak volumes, he protects you when needed in combat, using his ice to aid you where he can.

Despite his words, he does not find your shyness a hinderance, quite the opposite actually. He enjoys the quiet between you two and would much rather focus on the mission than make small talk.

To him, your powers and his combined make a formidable force, enhancing eachother during battle.

He enjoys the power you give him and vice versa, he finds this compatibility admirable, though he won’t ever tell you that. Merely standing by your side and attempting to mix your abilities when the opportunity presents itself.

If he makes you blush one way or another, he will definitely hide a sense of pride rising up in him at making you flustered. Occasionally, feeling confused on what exactly caused this reaction.

Kuai Liang

Kuai Liang, much like his older brother, is also not much of a talker. Not because he thinks negatively of you, no, he actually admires your prowess when wielding your aqua abilities.

At first he may keep to himself and keep things strictly business, only really discussing the plans and mission ahead.

Kuai Liang is much more approachable than his brother, offering warm welcoming smiles and gentle hushed tones to make you more comfortable.

He would be more openly protective of your reserved behavior, treating you like a delicate flower but never doubting your self sufficiency.

Conversations would be had if you are comfortable to open up to him, he offers a warm and safe environment, giving off gentle vibes to put you at ease.

During the mission he would be taking the lead, understanding that you’re used to working alone and helping you learn the ropes of working with others.

He often worries if your abilities will clash with his, he’s very capable of working around the differences, however.

He will often check to make sure you’re safe and secure, aiding in any injuries you may have acquired in battle. He would never overstep though, making sure you’re comfortable in his care.

When you blush, a small grin will pass over his features, he finds it cute and will attempt to bring that heat rushing back up in anyway he can.

Tomas Vrbada

Tomas is just as shy and reserved as you, he will keep to himself but not in a cold way.

He will offer an ear if you need it, even comforting you if you show that you’re overly uncomfortable.

During the mission his eyes will shine with awe at your unique abilities, the way you handle yourself filling him with determination and inspiration.

He finds your water abilities to be beautiful, and quite fitting to you as a person. He may even observe the way you interconnect your water and fighting abilities seamlessly.

Much like his brothers, he may feel a sense of duty to protect you from danger due to your shyness. Instinctually pushing you behind him when conflict arises.

He won’t say it out loud, as his nerves would get the better of him, but he actually finds your shyness adorable.

To him, you two are much alike and have much in common. He may look forward to having more missions with you in the future.

He will openly complement your abilities, not without the occasional blush or fumble of the words.

When you blush or stutter, he will also blush, not of embarrassment, but out of admiration. He thinks it’s adorable, watching your expression change to that of embarrassment. He may even subtly tease you, only for you to repeat the process tenfold.

When the blood comes rushing to your face, he can’t help but stare, taking in your features and memorizing the way that light pink dusts your cheeks. This only causes your face to become a deeper shade of red, he smiles and looks away, attempting to hide a blush of his own.

Be gentle, this is my first request! Hope you enjoyed it, hopefully I can learn and get better for the future.

[itsohh]

The True Ghost

AN: I kept editing this one and I feel like the vibes are a little over the place.

Summary: After getting shot in the head you find yourself not in the land of the dead but stuck in the land of the living without a real form. Unable to interact with anyone, your forced to watch your lovers suffer with your loss.

Word count: 2156

Warnings: MW3 spoilers, angst, canon typical violence, hurt no / little comfort

Masterlist AO3

The twist of your arm, the furious look on Makarov’s face. The shouts that echoed around you, then… nothing. 

You opened your eyes. 

When you sat up you did so with extreme ease, the weight of your body was non-existent. Perhaps that's what it was like on the moon. It was like being submerged underwater but with no force of any tide. 

You looked up from your sitting stare to see your entire team staring at you. “Got something on my face?” You joked but they didn't reply. When had Gaz and Ghost arrived? 

Soap collapsed onto his knees with a choke. He reached towards you but as his fingers were to come into contact with your skin, they phased right through. The warmth of his hand spread through you and you looked down to see what he had truly reached for. 

He had reached for you. More specifically your body. You scrambled to your feet to get a good look. Blood pooled under your head as a lifeless look was frozen on your face. 

“Shit.” You covered your mouth and looked at your team. “Shit!” You were dead? “Shit! Shit! Shit!” Your eyes went to Ghosts and his eyes closed for a second before he placed his hand on Johnny's shoulder, a sombre look in his eyes. 

Price couldn't tear his eyes from you as he radioed in. The call of KIA which confirmed your death. Your hand threaded through your hair and took a few steps away. If you were dead then why were you still there? A fucking ghost. It should have been somewhat ironic but you couldn't bring yourself to laugh. By the obvious lack of other ghosts around, it seemed you were a special case. Was it because you hadn't killed Makarov? Was that your unfinished business? 

The thoughts raced through your mind as you glanced over to see Soap lean over your body and press a kiss against your forehead. His hand shook while he held yours. As you stared at him you realised that his entire body was shaking

“I've got her Johnny.” Ghost's voice was broken, empty and Soap turned to look up at the man. Tears swelled in Soap's eyes and Ghost crouched down next to him. Ghost gently pried Soap's hand from yours and brushed your eyes close. 

If it hadn't been from the hole in your head you could have looked like you were asleep. “I've got her.” Ghost squeezed Soap's hand and the man nodded in return. It took all his strength but he backed away from you and Ghost went to pick up your corpse. 

You didn't know if it was comforting or not that they weren't leaving your body there. It was strange, you were so disconnected from it but at the same time, it was still your body. It was like a childhood home you no longer owned. 

“It should have been me.” Soap muttered as they started to walk and Ghost froze for a second. 

“Don't do that Johnny. Don't do that to her.” 

Soap glanced at Ghost's hardened expression and went silent. 

-

The car ride back was that same prolonged silence. You had sat in your designated spot, at least you had that going for you. With the whole ‘everything passes through you’ situation, you were just glad you didn't have to walk back. 

You watched as Soap entered his room. Not yours, not Ghosts, but his own dorm room. It was a place Soap rarely visited anymore. Ghost’s room had been a sanctuary for all three of you. 

He ripped his gear from his body, his hands shook and he threw it all to the ground. Tears now flowed in free fall and he staggered over to his bathroom where he flicked on the the shower. Soap stepped in immediately, not caring about the cold water. He desperately started to scrub at the skin on his hand even though there wasn't a speck of blood. 

You sat down in the corner and closed your eyes as his sobs started to echo in the room. He swore your name and choked on his tears. 

Eventually, the water turned off and he came out. His eyes were red and puffy while his muscles were dense. Soap's skin was red and raw from scrubbing it too much. He went over to the sink and leaned on his two palms. 

You got up from the floor and went behind him. So desperately did you want to confront him, to hug him, to tell him it was okay. It was an act in vain but you placed a hand on his shoulder. Warm but tense you looked forward and paused at the sight. 

Perhaps it was because you could see yourself but the reflection showed the pair of you. Honestly, you looked terrible. A picture image of the moment you died. Wet blood eternally stuck to the side of your head as your eyes lacked a certain warmth to them. 

A sudden smash came as Soap's fist collided with the mirror right where your reflection was. A fractured spider web formed and a stain of his blood tainted the centre of it. 

You flinched at the moment and covered your gasp with your hand. A choked sound still escaped, not that anyone could hear. You reached on to him as leaned on the sink. 

“Should have bloody fucking let me die.” He growled. “Should have saved herself but she had to play hero. Never seen her do something so stupid-” Soap slammed his bloodied fist down without a care for the pain that it would obviously inflict. 

Would he be the same mess if your position with Simon was flipped?  

His choked sobs came but you didn't attempt to vainly comfort him again. Perhaps Ghost could help- perhaps if you could somehow communicate a way to get your lovers to join hands…

You left Johnny's bathroom and went towards his bedroom door. 

You put your hand on his locked door handle to open it but once again it went right through. Brows furrowed you tried again but this time with a lot more concentration. 

Your eyes widened when it jiggled a bit but the stiff lock was just a little bit too much. With a sigh of frustration, you went to slam your fist on the door but ended up going right through it. With a stumble, you fell forward across the hall into your own room. 

Surprise crossed your face to see Ghost there. His mask off. His eyes were closed and he took deep breaths as if he were meditating. You couldn't help but wonder how long he was there. 

“I'm sorry.” He eventually said, his eyes cast at the ground. “We weren't fast enough and you paid the price.” He let out a deep breath. “I should have known that you would eventually go. But for a moment, I could play pretend.” 

You sat down on the bed next to him. He couldn't see you, he couldn't hear you but you hoped somehow that he knew that you were with him. 

-

Days went past and you saw two events. The official funeral that was done for all operators, a big fancy honourable thing that felt more political than anything. Then there was when they spread your ashes, a more quiet event where they flew to your homeland and did so.

You preferred that one. 

It got a bit boring if you were honest. Most of the time you just walked with anyone who was at base. Normally Ghost or Soap but sometimes it was Gaz or Price. On the odd occasion, it was Kate. You missed Farah and Nik. 

Ghost seemed to spend a lot of time in your room. Soap didn't. Their relationship had certainly suffered because of it. 

s

One night as you watched Ghost leave your room, you heard it. A small buzz. You went over to the nightstand to see your phone exactly how you had left it. It was on charge on the side table. You went to pick it up and surprisingly, it obeyed your command. 

With wide eyes, you slid your finger against the screen and it unlocked. A sound of glee left your lips as you tapped away on it. “My sweet baby boy, you recognise me.” You grinned at the phone. 

Consequences be damned, you hit Soap's name and opened your messenger.

I love you

You sent it without hesitation and as you started to type to Ghost you heard the shout. It was Soap's voice. Uh-oh. You placed the phone down and left your room to see Soap at Ghost's door. His first was raised and banged against the door while his phone was clutched in the other. 

The door eventually swung open and you saw Ghost there peer above Soap. 

“Johnny.”

“What the hell is this huh? Trying to fuck with me with her phone?”

“I don't know what you're talking about.” 

“Oh cut the bullshite, I know you spend half of your time in her room.” He waved the phone in Ghost's face and grabbed his collar. 

Ghost's brows narrowed. “I know you’re hurting Johnny-”

“Oh that's rich-”

Soap's voice was cut off by Price who had been woken up by the endeavour. 

“The hell is going on?” He barked and walked up to the two men. Price took the phone from Soap and looked at the message. A sigh left Price’s mouth.

“It's probably just a scheduled text message Soap. You know what she was like, always one to think ahead. Probably did it because she knew you well enough to know that you would refuse to watch her recorded messages.”

Soap let go of Ghost's collar and looked down. 

“She loved you, the both of you. She wouldn't want you to fight. I know you're both in pain but you're better off working together not against each other.” He clasped a hand on Soap's shoulder. “If you really hate it that much you could go disable it in her phone. It's probably where she last left it.”

“Passwords 2019.” Ghost finally spoke up. It had been a running thing that you never told Soap your phone password. Something to tease him about. Soap threaded his hand through his hair and nodded. 

“I'll…I'll go check out her phone.” His voice was quiet and then it dawned on you. 

As much as you wanted them to stop fighting, you didn’t want them to take your phone.

You turned on your heel and dashed through your bedroom door. With a snatch of your hand, you took it off the charger and went to put it in your pocket but then paused. It fell to the floor. It seems your pockets didn't work. With a roll of your eyes, you picked it off the floor, climbed onto your bedside table and turned it to silent. You balanced on the table and slid it on top of your dresser. It was tall enough that not even Ghost would be able to see on top of it

Last second you lost your balance and let out a cry as you fell onto to hover awkwardly above the ground. “Guess ghosts can fly after all.” You muttered.

Slowly you lowered your feet onto the ground just in time for Soap to walk into your room. It was the first time since you died. He went to your nightstand only to find it gone. A frown formed on his face and then he went towards your desk. 

He let out a sound of frustration but it was Ghost's voice that filled the air. 

“Can't find it?” 

“Did you take it?” Soap asked

“No. I'll call it for you.” Ghost brought out his phone and started to call your number. Yet it didn't make a sound. Soap stood up and started to walk to the bathroom to look for it. You followed him as he searched under the sink and when he stood up, his eyes made contact with yours in the mirror. 

He didn't say a word. Soap looked away and rejoined Ghost. Just in time to hear your voice through your phone. 

“I'm unable to come to come to the phone right now. Don't leave a message and please send me a text. Thanks!” 

“She probably hid it somewhere.” Soap’s eyes shut. “It's fine. I don't want to be in here.” He pushed past Ghost and left the room.

Pain swelled in your chest. You didn't want to hurt him- either of them. But your phone was all you had. Ghost glanced to the rest of the room and left. The door clicked behind him. 

Slowly you went for your phone again and unlocked it. It was still open on Ghost’s contact. 

You finally hit send. 

A moment later you surprisingly received a reply. 

I love you too.

I miss you

Rest well