#one of them keeps biting the others GEE I WONDER WHICH IT IS

[skyjynxart]

SO I was introduced to a new thing, and it really highlighted the 3 primary ways I acquire blorbos.

[writeforfandoms]

Welcome to New York 6

Find the series masterlist

Things get better, and you discover a possible way to earn some favor with Miguel. Jess helps. Sort of.

Warnings: Swearing, mention of injuries from last chapter, stress baking, sass all around, Miguel is not quite as mean, he's getting better okay, reader has low self-esteem.

Word count: 1.9k

Eventual Miguel O'Hara x f!reader

Your ankle was not sprained, somehow. Just stressed. By Monday you already felt better. 

The myriad of cuts, on the other hand, had mostly scabbed over, ugly and annoying. 

But you were determined not to let this stop you from working like normal. So you headed up to work bright and early. 

“Hey! You’re here.” Lyla popped up as you were walking through the lobby to the elevator you had to take down one level. “Figured you’d be home today.”

“Nah.” You shook your head, flexing your fingers. “I can work. Not like it’s physically intense, y’know? I’ll be fine.” You shot the AI a grateful smile, tugging your sleeves lower over your palms. 

“Mmkay.” She lowered her glasses to give you a more thorough look. “If you overdo it, I’m calling Peter.”

“Which one?” The question was flippant as you started pulling up holoscreens. 

“All of them.”

You spluttered surprised laughter and shook your head, grinning. “Duly noted. Where did I leave off on Friday?” 

You would have loved it if the day passed quietly. It did not. Peter came in to drag you up to lunch, whining that his wife had Mayday for the day. You had very little pity for him when he tried to show you a dozen pictures on his phone. 

“Peter,” you finally said, gently pushing his phone away from your face (and your food). “I know she’s adorable. But you need to eat and let me eat.” 

“Oh.” He looked briefly crestfallen, then just abashed. “Oops?” 

You snorted at him and shoved his plate closer to him. “Eat your damn lunch and let me finish mine.”

Peter snorted but obeyed, taking a giant bite out of his burger. 

So of course his mouth was still full when you spotted Miguel approaching your table. You swallowed hard, not sure what exactly to do. He still didn’t really like you, and you didn’t want to do anything to make his opinion of you somehow worse. 

Miguel stopped a few steps away, mask up as usual. But you thought he looked at you, just for a moment. “Don’t be late this time,” he grumbled to Peter, one hand on his hip while the other pointed sternly at Peter. 

“Miguel, buddy, when have I ever been late?” Peter grinned, bright and absolutely full of shit. 

“Yesterday,” Miguel deadpanned, and then ignored Peter’s spluttering denials. His head turned again to you, and you swallowed hard, hoping you weren’t about to be in trouble too. But he simply looked for two very long moments before he nodded, no more than an incremental dip of his head. 

And then he was walking away again. 

Huh. That had been… painless, really. Well. 

“Such a killjoy,” Peter grumbled, though you knew he did it more for fun than because he was actually annoyed. The man had a very deep well of patience when he wasn’t stressed. 

“Gee, I wonder why,” you deadpanned, grinning at his affronted splutter. “I’d probably be going nuts if I was trying to corral the lot of you, too.”

“You’re so mean,” Peter groaned, one hand over his heart in a dramatic motion. While you snickered at him, he suddenly switched to a little more serious, eyeing you. “How are you doing? All your cuts?” He made a vague motion to the upper half of his body.

“Okay,” you answered carefully. “Sore and itchy, but there’s not a lot to be done about that. It’s fine, I’ll heal.” 

“Yeah.” Something sad lurked in his gaze. 

“Oi.” You gently kicked his ankle. “I’m fine. Stop worrying. I’m taking it easy, all will be well.” 

Peter huffed softly, shaking his head. “Just make sure you keep an eye on them,” he advised. “Don’t let anything get infected.”

“Peter, you’re a good friend, but if you don’t stop trying to mother me I’m gonna deck you.” You grinned to take the sting out of your words, and were rewarded with more dramatic clasping of heart and even a wrist to the forehead for an extra-dramatic faint. 

The rest of the day was easier, after that. 

“Hey, Lyla?” You paused the current video and leaned back to rub your eyes. It was nearly the end of the day on Wednesday and your eyes hurt, just a bit. “How many anomalies are currently here?”

Lyla appeared in front of you, tipping her glasses down. “Why?” 

“Partially torturing myself with how much work there is to do,” you admitted easily. “And partially curiosity.” 

“At the moment? A few dozen.” Lyla shrugged. “Plenty of work to go, especially since the anomalies haven’t stopped happening.”

You hummed softly, tipping your head back to look up at the ceiling, letting your eyes rest a little. “So I’ve got job security,” you joked. 

Lyla snickered. “If that’s what you wanna call it.” 

You rolled your neck, eyeing the work still to be done. But you were tired, your brain was fried for the day. “Think anyone will notice if I skip out fifteen minutes early?” 

“Nope. Peter might even shove you out the door if he found out.” Lyla smirked at you, amused.

“Thanks, Lyla.” You stretched and waved all the screens down for the night. You’d pick up again tomorrow. 

It wasn’t until you were on the train heading home that you really thought about what it meant to have dozens of anomalies in HQ. That seemed like a bit of a disaster waiting to happen. What if the containment fields failed? What if something attacked HQ? Just seemed like a bad idea, was all. 

But you understood the decision - it was smoother to have everything properly tagged and the information put into the system ahead of time, and then send the anomalies home in batches. The corresponding Spiders probably liked it, even. Kept one (or two or, in one universe, five) villains out of trouble. 

Still. You couldn’t shake the niggling thought that it was a bad idea. 

You ended up baking to get some stress out. Making cookies had always been a good stress relief for you - mixing up the dough by hand, checking the consistency, dumping in as many chocolate chips as you wanted (and always eating a couple from the bag). It was just soothing to you. And delicious. 

It also meant you had almost three dozen cookies to take into work the next day. Early mornings tended to be quiet around HQ - most Spiders were more nocturnal, and many of them went back to their home dimensions to sleep. (Not all of them - Peter had told you about a couple floors entirely dedicated to rooms for Spiders to crash in or keep as their own. Somewhere there was an actual register of the rooms.) 

All of which meant that you arrived early, walked to the mess, set the cookies on a counter with a post-it saying “Eat me!”, and went back to work without seeing a single person. Officially no longer your problem. 

At least until lunch time, when you emerged to get something more substantial than caffeine. 

Jess sat next to you, and you blinked at her. “Afternoon,” you greeted, a little cautiously. You liked Jess fine, but she wasn’t one to really chit chat. 

“Saw you left those cookies this morning.” She kept her voice down. 

“How–oh, the cameras.” You huffed soft laughter at yourself. Duh. “Yeah, I felt like baking last night but I sure don’t need to eat that many cookies.” 

She nodded, looking around briefly, as if checking for eavesdroppers. “I’ve been craving these cookies,” she admitted quietly, patting her tummy. “But I can’t bake for shit and my husband, bless him, isn’t any better.”

“Do you have a recipe?” 

Her grin was quick and warm. “Sure do.”

“Bring it by and I’ll bake up a batch for you,” you agreed easily. “Unless you want, like, hamantaschen, those are delicious but they’re also a two-day process.” 

“Ham–no, not asking. They’re easy, nothing fancy.” 

“Then yeah, sure. No problem.” You shrugged. It really wasn’t a big deal as far as you were concerned. “Once you get me the recipe–” You stopped. She had a piece of paper in hand, waving it gently at you. “...Did you go back home to get a copy of the recipe and then stalk the mess waiting for me?” 

“I really want these cookies.” She waved the recipe again for emphasis.

You snorted. “Yeah, alright, give it.” You took the paper, scanning it quickly. You had almost everything, and it didn’t look too complicated. “I’ll stop on my way home to get a few things and bring these in tomorrow.”

“You’re my new favorite non-Spider.” She looked distinctly smug as she stood, her mission accomplished. “Oh, by the way…?”

“Hm?” You blinked up at her, half of your brain already focused on what you’d need for the cookies.

“Miguel liked them too.” She smirked at you and walked away. 

Leaving you to immediately wonder why she’d told you, then wonder if Miguel might like other sweets, then wonder if you could subtly bribe him into liking you with cookies… And then cover your face with a groan because you were not some school girl dammit! You’d outgrown these ridiculous tendencies. 

“Apparently not,” you grumbled to yourself, shaking your head. “Pathetic.” Shaking your head at yourself, you finished your lunch and got back to work, recipe tucked safely away with your things. 

The cookies were easy, after a quick stop on your way home. And then, well, you were already baking, it was almost no extra work to make another batch of cookies, and they’d vanished pretty damn quick… 

Which is how you ended up with nearly six dozen cookies cluttering up the entirety of your kitchen. 

“I need… something,” you sighed to yourself, hands on your hips, a smudge of chocolate on your nose. 

You thought about it as you packed up the cookies to take in the next morning. Why were you going the extra mile, here? Did you actually want Miguel to like you, or did you just want him to not glare at you all the time anymore? 

Probably the latter. Which was fair. You had to work with him, not often, but you did. He was your boss. (At least, you were pretty sure he was.) Nobody liked having a boss that was angry at them all the time. 

Or, you didn’t like it, at least. You wanted him to relax a little around you. You were so far from a threat the mere idea was laughable. 

You just… didn’t want that animosity he’d showed you to be the defining factor of your relationship. 

Huffing to yourself, you finished packing up the cookies. This was fine. Not a big deal. At least you knew your own mind, that was always a good thing. 

You left the extra batch of cookies in the mess the next morning, and then hesitated. You knew where Miguel’s office was. You could just leave some cookies for him, no need to even interact with him. 

Mind made up, you walked towards his lab/office/whatever it was. (Honestly, you’d seen the floating platform once, and thought it was overkill, but that was just you.) 

The lights were all off. Looked like you were in luck. You hopped up onto the platform, currently grounded, and left two cookies on a napkin for him. There. Good enough. 

Jess could come find you for her cookies.

Satisfied, you hopped down again and left, humming quietly to yourself. Time to get to work.

[starlemonbunki]

At the hospital rn so here are some headcanons of bsd men with cats

Chuuya:

- *cat meows* *he meows back*

- likes cats that are chubby

- if someone so much as says "heck" in front of his beautiful little baby he will go on a rampage

- "WHICH ONE OF YOU MOTHERFUCKERS HAS BEEN SWEARING IN FRONT OF MY LITTLE GIRL"

- absolutely spoils the shit out of his cat

- BTW it's a black one with elegant green eyes and she's a total bitch but that's why he loves her

- same spoiled rich bitch energy

- they were made for each other

- he def rants about dazai to her

- idk abt a name yet but I'm thinking he'd name her something fancy like a type of wine or an author of an old book he likes or smth

- they look like they judge people together

- they absolutely do

- if you think ur safe no u are not

- she does not like dazai AT ALL

- whenever he sees her he tries to be friendly and even give her treats but she just hisses or ignores him

- *dazai enters chuuyas apartment (uninvited)* heya Eleanor!

Eleanor: *hisses*

Dazai: okay! :D

Dazai:

- ohhh dazai's cat would absolutely despise him

- it's not really his cat, it just kinda keeps coming back to him for food

- whenever he tries to be affectionate with it it just hisses or bites him

- but it still keeps coming back the next day

- hmmmm sounds like a certain someone

- he also gets the shittest cat foods ever

- "heyyyy I hope you like this new tuna I got ya!!! It's chocolate flavored :)"

- the cat will def vomit on his shoes

- it's happened more often than u think

- BTW it's an orange tabby that he likes cause it's mean and orange and reminds him of someone

- GEE I WONDER WHO

Fyodor:

- fyodor has the most spoiled snooty ass little Persian cat in the whole entire world

- it looks exactly like the ones you see in cartoons

- she's all white with pretty blue eyes and a nice little collar that costs like 10,000 in usd

- I can also see him with a cat like chuuyas, u know the ones villains in movies usually have

- tje black pointy slender ones

- you'd walk into his lair or smth and it's all dark and it's just him in his chair facing you and caressing the cat on his lap

- me next me next ME NEXT ME NE

- it also acts like his own personal spy, by lurking around his enemies (dazai) and finding out all sorts of dirt on them (his love for chuuya) and bringing them to fyodor for him to exploit (putting a hand on his forehead and eyes going "the gays are at it again")

Nikolai:

- your friendly neighborhood animal abuser😝

- u know that cat from the start of princess and the frog???

- the one that lottie had when she was a kid???

- yea it's like that

- bro torments the SHIT out of that poor kitty (mine next please please)

- he would come home and just throw it into the air as a greeting

- his ceiling is covered in cat scratches from every time he's done it

- atp he would just randomly go "Hey where nikolai junior???" Like he's Phineas and Ferb looking for perry meanwhile his poor tortured cat is hiding from him somewhere

- he would bring that thing everywhere

- airport, barbers, hospital, restaurant, PRISON

- "sir you can't have pets in here" "awww why not :((((" "because this is a correctional facility"

- he'd be with the gang😎 and sigma jus goes "nikolai....what's in your shirt???" And he's like wdym?? And sigma goes "it's...meowing?? What have you got in there???" And nikolai has to answer very carefully bc of all the times fyodor has told him NOT TO BRING HIS GODDAMN CAT INTO THEIR MEETINGS so he just smiles sweatily and says "drugs" which for him is honestly way more believable but fyodor just sighs

Anyway that's all I got for now wish me luck at the hoptal guys :DDD

[thebookdragonshoard]

alright, y’all. i just finished The Bell Jar by Sylvia Plath and it’s time to discuss this fig tree analogy.

buckle up cause we’re gonna be properly capitalizing. it’s that serious.

If you’re unfamiliar with The Fig Tree analogy, let me quote it for you, so you can feel the pain I felt the first time and for contextual purposes.

“I saw my life branching out before me like the green fig tree in the story. From the tip of every branch, like a fat purple fig, a wonderful future beckoned and winked. One fig was a husband and a happy home and children, and another fig was a famous poet and another fig was a brilliant professor, and another fig was Ee Gee, the amazing editor, and another fig was Europe and Africa and South America, and another fig was Constantin and Socrates and Attila and a pack of other lovers with queer names and offbeat professions, and another fig was and Olympic lady crew champion, and beyond and above these figs were many more figs I couldn’t quite make out. I saw myself sitting in the crotch of this fig tree, starving to death, just because I couldn’t make up my mind which of the figs I would choose. I wanted each and every one of them, but choosing one meant losing all the rest, and, as I sat there, unable to decide, the figs began to wrinkle and go black and plopped to the ground before me.” - The Bell Jar, chapter 7

First of all, uhm OW SYLVIA?! I did not need to be called out like that right before bed, but here we are anyway.

Basically, if you don’t get it (and it’s perfectly okay if you don’t!!), Esther (the main character) likens the different paths in life available to her as figs on the branches of a fig tree she sits in. However, she doesn’t know which life to pick (i.e. which fig to eat) because, to her, picking one life means losing access to all the others. And because she finds herself unable to choose one life, they all start withering away before her as time goes on until there are no lives left to pick from, symbolized by all the figs blackening and falling to the ground.

And while this is already a beautiful and profound analogy, humor me by allowing me to take it a little further by looking at it from a different perspective.

What about gluttony???

Hear me out, folks. Imagine that Esther, instead of being paralyzed by indecision, instead tries to take a bite from every fig on the tree, therefore trying to live every life available to her? If she can’t choose just one, why not choose all of them?

But, as she’s trying to live all of these different lives and taste all of these figs, she only has the time to take a bite or two from each fig, leaving them half-eaten around her. She can only enjoy small portions of each life available to her, unable to sit back and fully enjoy the sweetness that life can offer her.

And so, as she tries to live all of these different lives and taste each of the figs, by the time she manages to taste each fig, they’ve all begun to rot anyways. But now, instead of just falling to the ground beneath her and rotting away, they’re rotting away in her hands and all around her. And now she’s suffocating under the sickly sweet stench of their decay. The sickly sweetness of all the lives she tried to live, how she only manage to enjoy a portion of each of them. And at the time, it was fun and she was enjoying living this way. But now, she’s suffocating under the weight of these nice, sweet lives she lived that are now taking their toll on her because we as humans are not meant to do so much at once.

And because she was gluttonous and greedy, she is now too full from all the bites of fig she consumed, consequently giving her a stomach ache from overconsumption. And so, the body’s natural reaction is to get rid of the extra in some way.

By choosing all of the figs, she consequently still ends up choosing none of the figs because they now all rot around her and her body cannot keep them down, leaving her with no figs whatsoever instead of the one she could have had if she had found a way to make a single choice.

Does this make sense?? I hope it does. All I know is I came up with this last night, texted it to my book bestie, and then she was Unwell the rest of the night.

[wrenrogue]

Generally Canon Compliant Kuroken AU where they end up going to the same university. They also see each other as nothing but friends and somehow were able to became roommates. One night, Kuroo drags Kenma to a party.

It's all good for the most part, but then some of the party goers are like "let's play some high school party games for the nostalgia!!" and so they do, and of course the first one is "seven minutes in heaven" and kuroo and kenma are the lucky bastards to be chosen to go first.

They both sheepishly shuffle themselves into the closet, Kuroo being like, "hahah guys we're friends this is weird nothing will happen," before they get locked in. In the closet, both boys are a bit awkward about things, both wondering if anything will happen and after 30 seconds, Kuroo finally speaks. "So, how should we approach this?"

Kenma stays quiet for a bit and then goes, "I don't mind actually going through with it, we're friends, what's the worst that can happen?"

"I dunno Kenma, you might traumatize me by being a bad kisser"

"You say that like you're any better."

"How do you know my kissing skill level?"

"Kuro, you've only kissed one (1) girl in your whole life and that was your grandma"

"All I'm hearing is that you wanna challenge me to a kiss-off"

"Fine, best kisser wins something."

"If I win, you will stop playing video games at 3am on blast and actually sleep"

"And if I win, you will clean the whole apartment for an entire month without my help and without blasting marina and the diamonds"

"Not Marina!"

"I said what I said"

"Fine, you're gonna lose anyway"

So they get closer to each other and they're chest to chest (?) when-

"Kuro, you have to lean down I can't reach your face"

"Oh right, gotta help the little guy someti-OW, was that kick to my shin really necessary?"

"Yes."

"You're so romantic, Kenma. I'm falling in love already"

"Please don't, that would be a nightmare."

"Agreed, I would hate to fall in love with slouchy mcgee"

"Just lean down and fucking kiss me already you gee-" Kenma never has the chance to let go of that last voiceless velar plosive because Kuroo has effectively leaned down and caught Kenma's lips in a soft kiss. He's stunned at first, but then Kenma closes his eyes and kisses back, or at least they stay connected, but don't actually move their lips.

Kuroo is the one to break the kiss. "That one sucked, we can do better." Kuroo says before cornering Kenma and leaning down again, this time Kenma is more prepared and kisses Kuroo back with more intensity, wrapping his arms around his neck.

Their lips glide against each other as Kuroo places his hands on Kenma's hips. Kenma's giving it his all and so is Kuroo, because they cannot lose to the other dammit. Kenma bites on Kuroo's bottom lip and Kuroo thinks, why the fuck not, and opens up his mouth just a bit, which Kenma immediately takes as the okay for him to slip his tongue in.

They have never french kissed anyone before, so theyre kinda not sure what theyre doing, but they're eager to one-up the other so they keep kissing to the best of their ability. Kuroo gets bold and gives Kenma a butt squeeze as he nibbles on his lip and shut up, Kenma did not moan, that was probably some cat outside, he swears.

Kenma wants payback as he drags his fingers through Kuroo's surprisingly soft hair, tugging it, Kuroo groans and Kenma takes advantage of this and pulls again, because he can't lie, that was pretty hot.

They're very much into their snogfest and they don't notice when someone opens the closet door and exposes them to everyone outside. It isn't until someone awkwardly coughs that they stop and come back to the mortal realm.

They immediately break up and are like "good time, it's time for us to leave, bye" and rush out. They are mortified for many reasons but mostly because they were kinda into the sloppy makeout session they just had, and also because they don't know who won the bet. They get home and are like, "haha yeah that happened, we should talk about it tomorrow"

Tomorrow comes and they sit across from each other on their lil kitchen table.

"So"

"So."

10 minutes pass as they twiddle their thumbs, UNTIL-

"Um, so should we just leave it as a draw?"

Kenma, not wanting to think about how he really liked kissing Kuroo is like "Uh, okay, yeah."

They try to go back to normal as best they can and treat each other like usual for the most part, but they're both kinda thinking about kissing the other 95% of the time. Kuroo would be like, "this pillow is so soft" and his mind would provide, "just like Kenma's soft pouty lips." And Kenma would stare at Kuroo's hair and think about how he would groan if Kenma tugged just right.

They were having lunch at some random restaurant one day and while Kuroo was digging into his ravioli, Kenma was thinking, was Kuroo actually attractive this whole time??? Likewise, Kuroo was like Was Kenma always this cute???, when he walked into Kenma scarfing down a bag of cool ranch doritos.

It got worse as the days passed to the point that their usual routine of bickering and slap fights were replaced with "sorry, I didn't mean to brush my elbow against your elbow, I will try not to think about how nice and soft your skin felt against mine, since that's scandalously lewd of me" and "I was not breathing in your general direction, I swear. I'm not a pervert!"

The last straw was when kenma woke up after having a wet dream about kuroo and had the epiphany that "I'm fucking Gay for Kuro why does god hate me so much????" He decides to talk to his bestie about it the next morning because this was going too far.

Kuroo, like usual, was making breakfast by the stove and noticed how tense kenma was as soon as he appeared in the kitchen. "Is everything okay, you look more tired than usual?"

"Kuro, we need to talk."

"Talk about what? Did something happen?"

Kenma sighs as he sits on the kitchen counter. He wanted to look relaxed enough so that kuroo wouldn't worry.

"Kenma, you're worrying me. What did you need to talk to me about?" because of course Kuroo would not fall for Kenma's antics.

Kenma took a deep breath. It's now or never. "Kuro..."

"Yeah?"

"I think..."

"Go on"

"I think I...hmm..."

"Use your words, kenma"

"Shut up I'm trying"

"Sorry."

"I think..."

"You sure do think a lot"

"Kuro, I swear to god-"

"I'm sorry, I'll stop, I swear"

Kenma glares at kuroo for a minute and then takes another deep breath. "I think...I like you," he says, immediately hiding behind his hair. He shuts his eyes and waits for Kuroo's reaction and he hopes to everything that is holy that he doesn't regret what he just did.

"Kenma, hey." He feels a hand brushing his hair away from his face, but he refuses to open his eyes. "Kenma, it's okay, look at me." Kuroo speaks so softly that kenma decides to look at his friend. He's holding on to the counter so intensely that he feels his fingers hurting.

When he looks at his friend, he's taken aback by how tenderly Kuroo is looking at him.

Kuroo gently cups Kenma's cheek with his hand, ghosting his thumb against his lips. "I think I like you too," He confesses.

Kenma stays silent, processing what kuroo had just said. Everything seems to click into place as they stare at each other in their kitchen, no thoughts, heads empty, just gay.

"Should we do something...about it?" Kenma finally says.

Kuroo shivers at how Kenma's lips brush against his thumb. "I think so...yeah."

They lean forward and their lips meet once again, but this time, it wasn't for a bet. Their feather light kisses eventually became a bit more eager, a bit more passionate. Kuroo found himself in between Kenma's legs in an attempt to get closer to him on the counter.

Kuroo had moved on to leaving open mouthed kisses up the column of Kenma's neck, while kenma had his hands up Kuroo's shirt, when they smelled smoke.

"Oh fuck, the bacon!" Kuroo immediately turned around to turn off the stove, leaving kenma kiss bruised and a bit disoriented.

"Fuck, fuck, the bacon didn't make it."

"Kuro."

"Oh god, why didn't the fire alarm go off. There's so much smoke."

"KURO" Kuroo stopped to look at kenma.

"Yeah?"

"Open a window, we can make more bacon, and I'd rather we continue where we left off."

Kuroo looked surprised at Kenma's boldness, but then his bastard energy kicked in and a smug grin appeared on his face. "You want me that bad, huh?"

"Yes."

"Kenma, I'm the one that's supposed to be smooth," Kuroo says, definitely NOT blushing.

"Just get over here and kiss me already."

"Only because you want me so bad."

"I'm having regrets."

"You don't mean that."

"I wish I did."

"You don't mean that either."

"Kuro, I'm waiting."

"You're so hot when you're bossy"

"Kuro-"

Kenma never finishes his thought and he's okay with that as long as Kuroo keeps kissing him, and Kuroo isn't one to disappoint.

[ris-multi-fandom]

Here’s day 17 of Housevember22!

Fandoms: House MD

Pairings: Gregory House x James Wilson

Characters: Gregory House, James Wilson, Alison Cameron, Robert Chase, Eric Foreman, Lisa Cuddy, Chris Taub, Remy Hadley, Lawrence Kutner.

November 17th: Alternate Universe

Riiiiiinng!

The bell rung at Princeton Plainsboro as the students got there that morning. The corridors of teenagers slowly emptied as they filed into the classrooms.

“Quiet down,” House told his students as they sat at their desks, “if not you won’t be able to hear Mr Wilson in distress at my latest prank,” the students all giggled before the room went silent as they waited. Suddenly a loud bang was heard.

”House!” Wilson shouted from the next room. The connecting door opened and the younger man rushed through, covered in glitter, “glitter bomb? Really?”

”It was a chemistry experiment,” House replied, “as I’m the chemistry teacher it’s kind of expected.”

”And as I’m the English teacher, the words that are coming to mind to describe you should be expected,” Wilson said.

”And what words would those be?” House asked.

”The words would not be appropriate in front of your class but just know that revenge will be sweet,” Wilson replied, he went back to his classroom and House’s students began laughing.

”Alright, open your books and finish answering the questions you started yesterday,” House told them, picking up his guitar that was sitting in the corner of the room. He began plucking at the strings when one of his students, Robert Chase, spoke up.

”Can’t really focus on the questions when you’re playing you guitar,” he said.

”Well someone’s in a bad mood today,” House commented.

”Alison dumped him a week ago and is now avoiding him at lunch,” another student, Remy Hadley, who everyone knew as thirteen, told him.

”What like she hides in a cupboard when she sees you coming, or she just completely ignores you?” House questioned.

”Neither, just can’t find her, I’ve gone to every place that she would hang out but she’s never there,” Chase answered.

”Probably because she’s been hanging out in Wilson’s classroom for the past week,” House said, “I see her there every time I go to steal his lunch, she seems to have turned into that nerdy kid who helps decorate the classroom during her lunches.”

”That’s gotta hurt, Alison would rather hang out with Mr Wilson than you,” Eric Foreman, who was sat next to Chase, teased.

”Piss off,” Chase replied. House let his students wind each other up a bit longer before they got on with their work and spent the rest of the class in silence.

————

“You’ve changed,” House commented, walking into Wilson’s classroom.

”Yes, I keep spare clothes in my car on the off chance that you do something to ruin my clothing,” Wilson replied. House noticed the insane amount of glitter covering the floor by Wilson’s desk and smirked.

”You still have glitter in your hair,” House told him.

”Gee, wonder why,” Wilson mumbled. House came over to him and picked up half of his sandwich before taking a bite, “I literally made you lunch this morning and you’re still eating mine,” Wilson complained.

”I just wanted to come see you,” House pouted.

”And you can do that with your own lunch,” Wilson told him.

”Yeah but that’s boring,” House replied.

”I hate that it’s impossible for me to hate you,” the smaller man grumbled. House just smiled at him before sitting on the edge of the desk and grabbing Wilson’s hand.

”You love me really,” Wilson looked up at him with a serious expression which didn’t last long, he smiled back at him and House had to hold himself back from kissing him then and there. The door to Wilson’s classroom opened and the two men quickly pulled their hands apart.

”Hey Mr Wilson,” Alison Cameron said cheerily as she entered the room, “and Mr House,” she added when she saw the man, “what a surprise to see you in here again.”

”I’d say the same to you but I saw your ex earlier and apparently that’s why you’re hiding out in here,” House replied.

”Well he’s being an ass,” Cameron told him.

”Watch the language,” Wilson said and House rolled his eyes.

”Speaking of ass’” House commented causing Cameron to chuckle.

”Oh, Lawrence Kutner is going to be joining me today so we can finish up on the chemistry project,” Cameron said, “hope you don’t mind Mr Wilson.”

”That’s fine,” he said, looking down to the stack of papers he had to grade.

”That’s due after lunch,” House told her, “for my class, you’re really cutting it fine.”

”Well Lawrence hasn’t finished his part so we’re going to go through it now,” Cameron replied.

”I’ve almost finished,” Kutner said as he walked in.

”Good because I don’t want Cuddy on my ass again,” House grumbled.

”Looks like she’s already on your ass,” Kutner commented as the door opened.

”Care to explain to me why there is a motorcycle in the parking lot that’s covered in toilet paper?” Cuddy asked, annoyance on her face.

”You tp’d my bike?” House asked, looking at Wilson.

”You hid a glitter bomb in my desk,” Wilson replied.

”You did what?” Cuddy questioned, stepping into the room and spotting the large amount of glitter, “I can’t with you two today,” she sighed, walking out of the room.

”How has she not fired you two yet?” Cameron asked and the two men just shrugged.

”Probably because she’s placed a bet on how long it will be until they get together and if she fires them both she won’t find out,” Kutner commented.

”What?” Wilson asked.

”How much has she bet?” House queried at the same time.

“Almost everyone has made a bet,” Kutner told them, “I’m hoping you get together soon or I’m down twenty bucks.”

”I’ll make any announcement at anytime if you’re willing to split the profits,” House replied.

”Deal,” Kutner said.

”House,” Wilson warned.

”Sorry guess I won’t be,” House told his student.

House and Wilson continued to eat their lunches as Cameron and Kutner finished off their project, the bell rang and the two students packed up their belongings and went to House’s classroom next door.

”I’ll see you later,” House told Wilson, “I’ll pick dinner up on my way home.”

”Do you want to come clean with people about us?” Wilson asked.

”Do you?” House replied.

”Kind of, I mean it would probably be easier, we wouldn’t have to take two separate vehicles to work,” Wilson told him.

”Alright,” House said, standing up and walking through to his classroom.

”What do you mean ‘alright’?” Wilson asked, rushing after him, knowing House had something planned.

”Lawrence!” House called out, “What timeframe have you got on this bet?”

”Er-“ Kutner started fumbling through his bag for a piece of paper, he looked through the list of names, “any time this week and it’s mine, next week would be Chris Taub, last week was Robert Chase who just missed out of quite a lot of money.”

”Well young Kutner, you sir have just won yourself some cash,” House told him, “Wilson and I are in a relationship, so everyone pay up to Lawrence.”

”You’re only saying that because you’re splitting the prize money with Lawrence,” Cameron argued.

”When did she lose?” House asked.

”A month ago,” Kutner replied.

”Explains why she’s so bitter,” House said.

”Still doesn’t mean you’re not faking this to win the money,” Cameron told him. House sighed before turning to Wilson and planting a kiss on his lips.

”Better?” House asked. The students all stared with their mouths open before Taub pulled $20 out of his pocket and handed it to Kutner.

”Can’t believe I missed out by a week,” he grumbled.

”House,” he heard Wilson say, he turned to face the man, “House,” he heard again but Wilson’s lips didn’t move.

”What-“ he began to ask, but his words weren’t coming out, suddenly Wilson’s face started to fade and House stepped back in surprise, he looked around at his students who’s faces were also fading.

”House?” He heard again as everything started to go black.

————

“House!” Wilson shook his partner for the umpteenth time.

”What?” House asked, opening his eyes.

”Your alarm is going off and I’ve been calling your name for ages, turn the damn thing off,” Wilson said. House reached out and hit at his phone until the alarm stopped. He turned over in the bed until he was facing Wilson.

”I had the weirdest dream,” he said.

”What about?” Wilson asked.

”We we’re teacher’s and it was odd,” House replied, “but we did make out in my dream,” he placed an arm over Wilson and snuggled into him, “wasn’t as good as real life though,” Wilson chuckled before planting a few kisses on House’s lips.

“C’mon, we’ve got to get ready for work,” he told his boyfriend.

”Just five more minutes,” House whined, Wilson smiled at him before pulling him closer.

”Fine, five more minutes.”

[lavenderbardley]

Cannibal Pizza Party

Diiiiiiiiing Dooooooooong!

“Pizza’s here!” Calls the collective voice of many girls who sit in the room. Each announces with this declaration that they do not intend to get up and answer the door themselves.

“Why don’t you get it Billie?” Devona calls from her spot on the worn leather loveseat, where she’s perched like a feline, ready to pounce.

Bileam, known to her friends and family as Billie, rises from her spot on the floor. She brushes the dust and debris from her scandalously short skirt before ambling to the door. She smooths a stray piece of hair behind her ear, chewing on the inside of her cheek as she reaches for the doorknob.

The sounds of the living room waft through the hallway. Billie can hear the distant drone of the TV, where some newswoman talks about the recent attacks in a robotic monotone.

“Don’t forget to give him a huuuuuge tip Billie!” Diane calls in a sing-songy voice that somehow sounds like a tone-deaf bird.

Of course, Billie knows what she means, though she is unsure if she can do it. The other girls are much more confident than her, but she knows she cannot back out of it. It is her turn, after all.

A sharp knock sounds at the door, pounding in a quick and irritated fashion. Whoever is standing outside is tired of waiting for one of them to open the door. Billie throws open the dinky front door and is stricken dumb by the image of a handsome pizza delivery boy-No! Man…definitely a man.

“Did you order three large veggie pizzas with extra cheese?” asks the man in a dull and uninterested tone that says he’s been on shift for a while.

The air is overtaken by the savory smells of baked bread and melted cheese. It should leave her drooling and hungry, but it doesn't. The smell appalls her, but she tries to keep a straight face so he does not notice.

“Yes, that was us.” She eyes Annabeth, who has moved to be seen from the entryway. Billie notes the slight nod of her chin before proceeding. “The truth is things have been hard for us lately. We don’t have a lot of money and-” She bats her eyelashes and bites her lip, selling herself for everything she is worth. She can taste the warm metallic flavor of her own blood as she bites down a little too hard, praying he cannot tell.

“I was wondering if me and my friends could pay you another way?” She grips her plaid skirt with her hands, bunching it up as if it were a nervous habit. She knows he will notice her bright lingerie under it soon. She watches his eyes dart down and then away, repeating this sequence several times before he swallows, turning his head away from Billie altogether.

“Well. Gee miss.” He runs a hand over his head, smoothing down any cowlicks and unruly pieces. “I’m not supposed to do things like that. I-“

Annabeth materializes behind Billie. She rests her hands on Billie's arms and nestles her head between her neck and shoulder. Her warmth is both inviting and terrifying.

“Ooooh is that sooooo.” She laments, her face taking on a pouting quality that always gets men hot for her. Billie had to admit that she was probably the most beautiful girl in the world with her soft, smooth, almond-colored skin and gorgeous shimmery black hair. She smells like cardamom, nutmeg, and all things spicy and sweet.

Billie watches as the man visibly gulps, like a cartoon character, which might have been comical under different circumstances.

“You see, it’s just a dozen or so of us girls in there, and we soooo would love to pay you back. If you know what I mean.” Annabeth winks, sliding out to circle around the man, coming up behind him. She towers over him, bending down to plant kisses along his neck. Her breath washes over his skin like a warm mist. “I know we could make it worth your while,” she purrs.

Billie averts her gaze. Each of the girls has their own method of seduction. Billie took a more shy and passive approach, but Annabeth was hands-on. She wasn’t sure if she should be admiring Annabeth for this, but secretly she did. Annabeth got what she wanted, and she had enough confidence to take it if need be.

“Well. I guess this one time, it wouldn’t be so bad.” The man says, following the seductively gorgeous Annabeth inside. In the living room, he finds a menagerie of girls of different ages, styles, and cliques.

They all get up from their spots on the couch and loveseats, on the armrests, on the floor, and move towards the man, engulfing him in a sea of hormones and lust before leading him into the bedroom.

Only Billie and Annabeth stand alone in the emptied living room now.

“These recent attacks have made many people afraid to travel in these neighborhoods.” Says the newswoman in the newfound silence of the room.

“Are you joining us?” asks Annabeth, reaching for the doorknob.

“I-”

“You know you want to. Why should you fight it?” She smiles in a way that is both motherly and predatory, and Billie wonders how she manages to be both so effortlessly.

Billie glances at the coffee table, where the discarded veggie pizzas lie, unwanted. “I’ll be in in a sec. I just feel a little queasy.”

“Is it the pizza?” Annabeth grimaces, showing her own distaste for the smell.

“Yeah. That’s it.”

Annabeth strolls over to the table, picks up the pizzas, and walks out the front door to throw them in the outside garbage. “There,” she says with a tone of finality.

“Seems like a waste,” Billie mumbles to herself.

“I wasn’t going to eat it. And I know you weren’t either.” She opens the bedroom door. “Just don’t take too long.” She says with a wink and closes the door behind her, silencing the noises of ecstasy within.

Billie leans against the back of the couch, wondering how she came to be here. How her life has become what it is.

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

It all started about a year ago when Billie moved with her family to this strange town.

She had gone into the new school year a junior, completely isolated from her peers who were already in well-established cliques. It was difficult for anyone to move to a new school, but it was harder for Billie because of…well…who she was.

Iblis Public Highschool was by far the strangest place she had ever been to. Not because of the school itself, it was pretty standard for a public high school, but because of the mysterious cult that was rumored to have been founded by some of its students.

It seemed like it was just another one of those dumb fake satanic cults that kids start so they can feel edgy and cool. They never do much, and most rituals are uninspired and based on Hollywood stereotypes rather than actual satanic texts and sources. But what made this particular cult different was that it only invited females to join and did not discriminate by age, race, sexual orientation, clique, or popularity.

The girls participating varied from the most preppy stereotypical cheerleader to the most outcasted nerd.

Billie had never had an interest in cults or any of that edgy, mysterious bullshit that most teenagers seemed to like at some point or another.

Still, she was thrilled when she received an invitation to join because the cult only invited girls. It meant that the cult recognized her as one of them, a girl, which meant a lot since most people in town used the wrong pronouns for her, and many insisted that she was a boy.

When she received that letter in her locker, delicately decorated with red lace and elegant loopy writing, she nearly wept. Every one of the girls in the cult always referred to her in the way she wanted, making her feel like she belonged.

It had started out small. Sleepovers, coffee dates, and the occasional night in the woods circling a bonfire and chanting about their Goddess Khosteus, the devourer, dressed in their silly red robes.

You know, girl stuff.

To Billie, the whole thing seemed kind of stupid and silly. She didn’t think they were worshipping a real Goddess or doing anything that mattered. It was just a quirky way to pass the time and feel important.

That was, until about a month after she joined. It was on the night of the new moon when Annabeth, the eldest of the group, and the official leader, insisted Khosteus was most powerful. Per usual, the girls gathered in the woods, dressed in crimson velvet robes, ready to begin their monthly ritual.

Billie was a little late due to her parents going out for the night and asking her to stay home while they were gone. She had to wait until they left to sneak out and join her fellow cult members in the woods, tugging on her own red robe as she raced across town.

When she arrived at the circle of stones they had set up, she noticed the fire in the middle was already lit and burning brightly, a large cast iron pot hung on a tripod heating over the flames. There was an intoxicating smell, a strong, savory, almost gamey smell like they had killed and cooked a wild boar.

She quickly joined the formation, forming the missing link of the circle of girls. Near the middle, facing the pot, was Annabeth, holding an old worn leather book with its yellowed pages, thin and crinkly like wax paper. She was reading out one of the passages in a deep, toady voice. Billie imagined she would have a sore throat later because of it.

“Oh, great devourer Khosteus! The Goddess who devours the Gods! Call us unto your purpose; make our bellies an extension of yours as we feast tonight!” She bellowed into the still night. She then grabbed a stack of wooden bowls from a flat rock near the fire. She filled each one, handing it to her second in command, Devona, who then passed it to her left, who then passed it to her left, and so on, until each person in the circle and Annabeth in the middle had a bowl of the strange stew.

The food looked unappetizing, with very little vegetable matter and large chunks of meat floating in the reddish stock, like half of the liquid had been replaced with blood. Billie had been a vegetarian for three years, and her stomach churned at the idea of consuming animal flesh, but she didn’t want to lose her place in the cult and her newfound friends with it.

She leaned over to the girl on her right, Diane, and asked, “What kind of meat is this?”

Diane merely smiled and ignored the question saying, “Don’t worry, it’s very symbolic. You’ll like it.”

“Let us eat the flesh of man! And thereby, may Khosteus eat of man too! Through our stomachs, may she be full! Through our tongues, may she taste the delights of flesh! Through our noses, may she smell the wonders of this feast! And thereby bless us!” Annabeth chanted, stopping after each sentence for the rest to repeat.

Then they lifted their bowls to the moonless sky, brought them to their lips, and ate.

Billie’s tongue exploded with rich, savory flavor as she consumed the stew. The meat was a little gamey but had the texture of soft, tender beef with a hint of sweetness. After eating, she wondered how she had ever managed to go vegetarian with such excellent meat in the world. Although the talk of eating the flesh of man scared her a little, she remembered Diane saying that the meal was symbolic. They were probably eating some great beast like a deer or a boar and calling it the flesh of man, like Jesus called the bread his body and the wine his blood.

She devoured the entire bowl, scraping desperately at the sides with her spoon as if she could extract the trace amounts that had soaked into the wood. She was incredibly disappointed when Annabeth did not offer them seconds.

It wasn’t until a couple of days later that Billie noticed the difference in her body. Her skin was softer, more supple, and had become void of any blemishes or dirty pores. Her hair was shinier, glinting a honey blonde that seemed to turn golden when hit just right by light, and was full of such volume and shape. Upon looking in the mirror, she thought she was looking more feminine than normal, and this pleased her greatly. On top of that, she felt full of energy and bounced her way through school that day, feeling happier than she ever had. She was pleased to see the boys were looking at her differently. Before, they had looked with disgust or disproval of who she was, but now they couldn’t hide their sudden interest in her enticing new form.

A week or so after that, the hunger set in. Nothing she ate would satiate it, and she could not think of anything but that stew they had eaten during the ritual.

She found Annabeth outside the school after classes that day and begged her to tell her what was in the stew they had eaten.

“I keep daydreaming about that night. I find myself sooo hungry, but nothing I eat will make it stop! I even dreamed about that stew last night. You have to give me the recipe! What kind of meat was that anyways?”

“Oh! You didn’t know? I’m so sorry I thought I made It very clear.” Annabeth placed a hand on her cheek. She looked genuinely concerned.

“Huh?”

“Why, it’s the flesh of man! I was pretty sure that was part of the ritual hymn.”

“Yeah, I get that it was symbolic of human flesh, but like what animal was it really?”

Annabeth furrowed her eyebrows and gave Billie a look like she had just asked who George Washington was or something else equally ignorant. “No. The meat was human. Don’t you remember hearing about Preda? The guy who went missing from school last week?”

“Yeah…” Billie hesitated as the truth began to sprout in her mind, its vines unfurling throughout her body in tingles, growing the dark fruits of fear inside her stomach which ached with hunger and dread.

“Well, that’s who we ate! Preda! I’m afraid you can’t copy the recipe entirely, Preda was a rare treat, I must admit. Not too much fat, but the muscles weren’t too tough either. The perfect meat. Oh, you should have seen the marbling!”

Billie pulled Annabeth quickly and a little violently behind the dumpsters, checking to make sure no couples were making out back there before whisper screaming, “You’re saying we actually ate someone?! Like an actual person?!”

Annabeth waved her hand in a dismissive gesture. “You don’t have to worry. We only eat men. And it’s purely ritualistic and very safe! Me and Devona prepare the meat ourselves!”

Billie wanted to throw up. Her stomach was churning with a mixture of hungry desire and disgust. On the one hand, she felt happy knowing she was seen as a girl and wasn’t lumped in with men in Annabeth’s eyes. On the other hand, despite knowing herself to be a woman in her heart and soul, she couldn’t shake the sort of defensive kinship she felt with her birth sex, hearing the girl speak of men in such a way. “This is wrong! We can’t just-“

“Billie.” Annabeth towered over her like a tree does a shrub and reached a hand down to place it on her cheek. “We are in service of the lady Khosteus, and she has blessed us for our tribute. Blessed you.” She stroked the girl’s face with her hand. Such warm and steady hands they were.

“How soft your skin has become. It’s no coincidence. It’s the meat. It’s the blessing.” She reached for Billie’s hair, running her fingers through it. So smooth and shiny, like honey spun into silken threads. “And your hair. How lovely you look now, Billie. I know you love it. It makes you feel happy, doesn’t it? What is the world going to miss a few men here and there?”

Billie shuddered with every touch, but her stomach was in such pain. The hunger didn’t feel like hunger anymore. It felt like a fire burning and singeing her inside out like her stomach acid was dissolving her insides.

“I can see you’re craving.” Annabeth sympathized, rubbing circles into the girl’s back with a gentle hand and reaching into her purse with the other. She pulled out a small pink thermos and handed it over like a mother would hand a child their lunch. Such a normal gesture. Such a kind and loving gesture. “This is all I have left over. But in a few weeks, we’ll be holding another ritual. So, you need not fear.”

She offered a smile that seemed so genuine that Billie couldn’t help but think, She really loves me. She is so kind. Maybe I’m wrong. Maybe this is…ok.

And that was that.

After that day, Billie was a full-fledged member.

It had started out as a purely ritualistic activity, occurring only on the new moon each month. The girls would find a victim, someone who both seemed to be appetizing and had little friends or family to really notice their absence, and then they would kill him, butcher up his body into meat in Devona’s shed, and eat his remains in honor of the devourer Goddess.

It turned out that many of the girls in the cult were a lot older than they let on. Some were not even really students at school, just loitering around. Diane was 27, yet still looked like she was in high school, Devona was 31, and Annabeth, the eldest of the group, was 36. None of the girls looked like they were aging, and they all shared perfect complexions, perfect shapely hair, and an overall glow that left them desired by many.

Billie couldn’t deny how much she loved her own transformation. Her body which had seemed to fight her for so much of her life, was finally starting to change into something she wanted, something she felt comfortable in, and men were taking notice. It would have been great if not for the fact that the cult looked down upon men and thought them only useful for two things, the first of which made Billie blush and hide her face, and the second was food.

It wasn’t long, however, before the hunger became an addiction. Many of the girls, including Billie, began to be unable to stomach normal foods, finding the smell and taste of them repulsive. It made home life very difficult for those living with their parents. The school counselor was called on several occasions by worried parents about anorexia concerns.

The formal monthly rituals turned into biweekly and then into casual weekly gorgings. They would gather each week at one of the older members’ apartments or houses and order takeout for delivery. Some weeks it was pizza. Some weeks it was Chinese. They tried to diversify as best as possible, trying not to “overfish the waters” of one particular restaurant.

The girls would purposefully meet in different places, so they wouldn’t draw suspicion to a specific neighborhood. They always ordered for the house next door, knowing the neighbor would answer and say they had not ordered anything. Then the delivery man would check the other houses next to it before going home to see if there had been a mistype in the address. This was a great way to keep suspicion off them because if the police talked to the restaurant about the attacks, the receipt would direct them to a different house or apartment.

It seemed the devouring was no longer about their Goddess. It was now simply a primal need, an addiction that would not lessen its hold on the girls.

Despite the wonderful things this new habit of consumption had instilled in Billie and the other girl’s lives, she had started to notice that there were drawbacks. When she had first entered the covenant of the devourer and had first partaken in the flesh of man, her hunger was manageable, and she was able to last the month in between rituals. But very soon, as they consumed more and more, forgetting about their Goddess, she noticed she could scarce suffer a day without some sort of meat or blood of man. Her hunger was incredible, like a sponge that had been introduced to more and more water, expanding to reaches not thought possible.

Right after feeding, she would feel that glow and that rush of energy she enjoyed, but now, soon after, she would find an equally strong wave of nausea and fatigue take hold of her. Once, during a longer stretch of time between feedings, due to the police beginning to take notice of the trends, she had found her hair falling out in sizable clumps.

Was this punishment from Khosteus? Was she angered because they had forgotten their devotion to her? Billie had never supposed she was even real. Now she wondered If they had been cursed.

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

“If you know anything about these recent attacks on delivery men or have seen anything suspicious in one of the listed neighborhoods, please call the number below,” says the newswoman, shaking Billie back to the present.

She hears screaming, muffled, and panicked from the bedroom, and she knows they are already digging in. No butchering and preparing of the meat these days. The hunger was too strong for anyone to wait.

She glances around, making sure none of the girls are left in the room, and quickly enters the number from the Television into her phone and backs out onto the front stoop.

“NC DPS. How can I help you?”

“I’d like to report suspicious activity, I think it has to do with the attacks they’re talking about on TV. Having to do with delivery men?”

“Alright,” says the voice, obviously interested. Shifting can be heard on their end, making it clear they are getting ready to take notes.

“I saw a delivery person, male, get dragged into one of the apartments on Anderson Street. Bubsy village apartments. Apartment 1667. I’m not sure if it was anything…”

“Alright, thank you for the information. I will be sending someone over right away. get somewhere safe if you aren’t already.”

“Alright, ma’am,” Billie says, putting the phone back in her jacket pocket before going back inside.

They can’t keep living like this. She knows they might not live at all if they stop. But still.

She brushes a few stray tears from her cheeks and dabs gently under her eyes before putting on her best poker face. She opens the bedroom door, where she can see a modern art piece painted with red over the canvass of the room, blood soaking into the bedsheets and carpet. The girls are hunched over what remains of the body, pieces of flesh in their crimson hands, their teeth gnawing on bones.

“What took you so long?” Asks one of the girls, her mouth full of flesh, blood gushing out of the corners of her mouth with each bite.

“I just needed some air.” She lies, closing the door and taking her place among the others. She grabs a piece of meat and smears the blood over her face and hands. She shutters, but the hunger wins out, and she begins to devour it, tears mixing with the blood and flesh as sirens can be heard softly, getting louder, in the background.

[solomonish]

Way To Go MC, You’ve Allowed Yourself to be Poisoned (Demon Brothers)

CW for: descriptions of food and eating, brief descriptions of choking-like symptoms. (mainly in the intro, though the individual stories mention coughing, (light) blood and fainting). there will be talk of food and keeping an eye on what is being eaten in the individual character stories as well.

Ahh thank you nonnie! I got tired and stopped at the demon brothers but I’ll finish the nowdateables later if you want! Which let’s be real, I’ll probably do soon because I wanna write for Solomon lol

I hope you like it!

---

It started off like any other night, with you grabbing a seat at the dinner table as the last of the food was placed in the middle. Someone beside you took your plate and gave you your portion for you, smiling at your murmur of thanks as they set it down. You waited until the last person, Levi, sat down, smiling at him as he muttered something about finishing a level to nobody in particular. 

The moment you ate your first bite of food, something felt...off. Your tongue was tingling the slightest bit and you swore you could feel an uncomfortable heat follow the food as it slid down your throat. Thinking it was just a weird Devildom spice - after all, you’ve been here for how long? and nothing has happened yet? - you take another bite and immediately regret it.

Though such a food was no big deal for demons, it was powerful enough to knock you out of your chair and hunch over, grabbing your stomach as you cough forcefully in a desperate attempt to get the food out. Your insides were burning, your airways closing in and your chest crying out in pain the more you coughed. Soon enough, tears clouded your vision, and though you could hear the chaos around you, the only thing you could focus on was what felt like fire burning you from the inside out.

When you start coughing:

The moment you let out a little cough, his eyes are on you curiously. It’s just a remnant of the days when you were still so new to it all: the fragile little human makes a strange noise, be prepared to save a life.

He almost let his eyes fall from you, but he noticed that you weren’t stopping. It wasn’t the first time you had caused a scene at dinner, saying something afterwards about it “going down the wrong tube.” Still, this seemed...different.

When you fall off of your chair, he’s out of his before you even hit the ground. He’s kneeling by your side a second later, trying to tilt your head towards him so he can fully understand what is happening.

He finally realizes that you aren’t just choking and this is much more urgent when the blood starts coming out of your mouth.

He takes his attention away from you for a moment to ask who cooked dinner, and the brothers promptly rat out Mammon.

Though Lucifer is clearly agitated at that, he decides to lecture later and instead ask what Mammon put in the dish. Everyone erupts at once about halfway through because “How could you have forgotten what that will do to a human??”

That’s the last thing you remember for yourself - whether from the poison itself or being unable to breath through all your coughing, you passed out fairly quickly afterwards

Taking care of you afterwards:

Lucifer isn’t the type to panic in the moment. He’s very accustomed to taking the lead and having everything under control.

That’s in the moment, though. When he has Satan mix up the remedial potion, he’s fine, checking over you and keeping his brothers a safe distance away while he makes sure you’re still breathing. Once you’re safely in bed, brothers having been banned from your room until at least morning, and he’s the only one left lingering in the doorway, that’s when it all begins to set in.

There’s less regret and more general uncertainty in these moments - it starts with him wondering if he should really leave you alone, and soon enough it spirals into him reminding himself just how careful he needs to be with you in the Devildom. (And really, after taking charge of seven demon lords on accident, isn’t it just like you to get killed by a spicy leaf? Honestly, he should’ve known better.)

Once you finally do wake up, he tries to act like his normal “down to business” self - “I’ve told my brothers they are not to overwhelm you today, though we both know how that will go. I’ve made Leviathan figure out what bland foods are safe for humans, you’ll have to take it easy for now as your stomach is still irritated. Let me know immediately if you feel woozy or nauseous for any reason-” He prattles on and on, and though you’ve stopped paying attention you can still feel the softness in his tone

He tries to be gentle with you, and you have to remind him that you were just poisoned, not bedridden for months. Sometimes he’ll shoot you a glare and try to justify himself by saying it’s just like you to make another foolish mistake, but others he just won’t say anything and will keep the hand he has placed on your lower back “for safety”

Firmly believes in establishing as many preventative measures to keep this from happening again, so the next few weeks are going to be....a lot.

Sets up an alarm so he can remind you every lunch not to pick any of the “not safe for humans” options. Probably also gets you a seat in a class that goes over poisonous plants in the Devildom. 

Do not try to skip this. It’s easier for everyone if you just let him ease his mind how he likes.

When you start coughing:

At first, Mammon assumes that you just heard the joke he made and (naturally) started laughing so hard your weird little human body couldn’t take it

So essentially, you start choking and he starts laughing at you thinking you’re laughing together

That all stops the moment you fall out of your chair and double over, suddenly dry heaving on the floor.

He sort of short-circuits for a second, not entirely sure what to do until one of the more knowledgeable brothers stoops down beside you

They tell him to just keep your airways clear and make sure you’re still breathing while they go to get the elixir they need, and he does. It’s one of the few times they see him so serious - he just doesn’t want to mess up, so he doesn’t focus on any of their comments or bite back

(”Gee, Mammon’s actually stepping up for once” “Yeah, too bad he was the one that poisoned them in the first place”) 

(Lucifer: he WHAT)

Taking care of you afterwards:

Mammon is usually the first thing you see in the morning, so that doesn’t come as a surprise. What does surprise you is how quiet he’s being. 

When you sit up and groggily ask, “Is something wrong?” (barely getting the words through your swollen lips) he is torn between trying to say something smooth (”N-not now that you’re okay!! not that i care....”) or calling you a dumb human. So instead he just stares at you

Eventually you can get it out of him what happened, and it explains why your face feels like it had been burned and your stomach feels gross

Mammon says he’s going to come up with a surefire way to protect you so nothing like this ever happens again, but his version of protecting you is sticking by your side 24/7 and he already does that so?

You’re the one that’s going to have to take the lead. Make a list of common ingredients that are SUPER deadly to humans and make sure you both have one for reference

Soon enough, though, he figures out how he can help you without your guidance and you catch him pointing out what’s safe without you having to ask

He follows you to the lunch line and examines the clear plastic boxes until he can point out a few human-safe options. He’ll bend to whisper in your ear in line at some fast-food joint. If you’re not sure, he’ll be the first to ask before you even remember that’s something you should be doing anyway.

He’ll even try to make dishes he thinks you’ll like without the poisonous ingredient! Sometimes it takes a few tries but if he wants you to try something with him, he WILL make it himself

When it comes to you, Mammon really will give you the best care he can. Sometimes he just needs that extra push to think things through.

(And if this wasn’t a push. a hard shove. over a cliff. into shark infested waters)

(don’t do this again, mc. his demon heart can’t take it)

When you start coughing:

Levi has never mentioned how his brother don’t normally speak much to him at dinner and he’s just learned to be highly attuned to you. He notices a lot of little things you do, and is normally the first to realize when you’re choking or something.

That’s why, when you start coughing this time, he is the first one to panic. He knows that that isn’t a normal cough, he just doesn’t know what to do about it.

He looks down at his plate and realizes what’s on it, something he cries out right when you fall to the ground, clutching your stomach. You’re on the other side of the table and his brothers are already crowding around you, so Levi doesn’t get to see the blood and can only hear your coughing.

When your coughing gets weaker as you faint, he freaks. the. fuck. out. Did you die?? Even as he tries to look over his brother’s shoulders, he can’t get a good grasp of what happened until somebody tells him.

(It doesn’t matter much though. He’s still stuck in a loop of wondering what he could’ve done if he had gotten to dinner sooner, if he had managed to score a coveted seat next to you, if he had just looked at his plate or offered to take over for Mammon...)

Taking care of you afterwards:

You wake up in your bed and Lucifer is the one who comes in, asking you how you feel and if you’re up to classes to die. 

Being poisoned sure does take a lot out of you, so you ask to stay. Lucifer gives a quick nod and warns you not to shirk your duties, wishing you a fast recovery and letting you know that (human safe) food has been set aside specifically for you.

You doze off soon after (hey, a sick day may as well be spent sleeping in, right?) and when you wake up, somebody else is there, looking at you with inquisitive orange eyes and nearly scaring you half to death.

When you scream, he screams, backing up into your dresser and knocking some of the things off of it. 

“I-I’m sorry-! I was just- told to check up on you- just in c-case....I’ll leave now!”

Boy’s gonna make you chase after him when you’re basically sick smh

If you go to his room and demand to be let in, he will - and he’ll let you stay under the guise of “well if you have to check on me every hour it’ll be less of a hassle if I just stay here...”

You won’t be able to get him to say he feels guilty for letting this happen, but when you pick up on the signs ensure him that he’s doing fine taking care of you. HIs cool room helps soothe your mouth (which is still a little irritated), and you’re honored he has an alarm set to check up on you

You know he’s feeling better about it all when an alarm goes off and he just asks “Hey you good?” and he chuckles a little bit when you respond “Hold on I gotta check my own pulse....... yeah i think i’m good”

Overall he is worried but he doesn’t know how to communicate it? So it’s a lot of quick, worried glances and double checking nutrition facts on packages before he hands them to you.

He kind of leaves you to your own devices, but he does send you worried glances every now and then until you’re recovered. He also makes it a point, when Mammon’s on dinner duty, to tell him exactly how he prepared the meal, though you don’t know if it’s for your sake or just to bother him. Probably both.

When you start coughing:

Satan has taken to leaving his books in his room for most dinner and talks to you in their place, so he notices what’s in the dish pretty quickly.

However, the second step of realizing what it could do to a human doesn’t quite hit him until you’re already on your second bite.

He reaches out to grab your wrist anyway, watching you cough while also staring at him in confusion. As he watches your face redden and your mouth swell, you take your wrist from his grasp and cover your mouth with your hand.

He’s the one who knows what to do, so he appoints someone to keep and eye on you while he runs (yes, runs, but he’ll act all cool about it if his brothers bring it up later) to his room to get some potion that’ll (hopefully) negate the effects

(Don’t let him hear me say this but) he’s similar to Lucifer in that he’s very level-headed when it happens - somebody needs to be focused on the cure when some of his more dramatic brothers are screaming (looking at you, Mammon and Asmo)

Taking care of you afterwards:

Satan might be the best at taking care of you, but he’s probably also the least fun.

Once he realized a while ago how fragile a human could be (and that he was interested in actually keeping you alive rather than just watching how long it takes for something to hurt you), he put in an effort to read up on how to help a poisoned human in the Devildom.

He knows how you must be feeling, and he offers you soothing teas or even a (human safe!) numbing lip balm to help you out.

(He finds great pleasure in how ridiculous you look, now that the danger’s passed - though he won’t tell you outright, you can tell it by the amused grin he isn’t even trying to hide)

Don’t be surprised if you catch him eyeing your plates of food for a while after the incident, and any time you catch him in the act he’ll look at you, take a drink out of the nearest cup and lift his eyebrows in a weird little acknowledgment that he’s been caught before saying “It looks tasty.”

Overall, he’s the standard amount of worried? Even though he will take every opportunity to tease you about how you looked afterwards or how feeble you are to be taken down by something so small (jokingly), he won’t ever get out of the habit of double checking your food to make sure it doesn’t happen again.

When you start coughing:

Asmodeus eyes you warily when you start coughing, but continues with his entertaining until you hit the ground.

He’s by your side in an instant, hands hovering over you as if he doesn’t quite know what to do with himself (he doesn’t).

He doesn’t remember calling for Satan, but Satan is the one who kneels by you, so maybe he does? His focus is on you and deciding on something he can do to help.

This ends up shielding your face, puffy and a mess from your tears and retching, from the others who are all peering over at you in concern. He knows it’s not the most pressing detail, but he figures that maybe he can preserve your dignity a little bit, no?

He follows the action with his hands covering his mouth nervously, watching as they have to force a potion down your throat now that you’re unconscious. He’s allowed to stay by you once they determine that you’re safe since he normally doesn’t cause too much of a fuss - not when he looks as pale and miserable as he does now, anyway.

Taking care of you afterwards:

He’s not too experienced in the healthcare field, but boy does he know self care! He knows how to get your skin feeling less gross after the rather...irritable reaction it had and the best way to rest is if you feel totally physically relaxed, right?

For a while, if your stomach still feels like it’s churning or you’re otherwise unfocused, he’s the first to defend you from anybody who thinks you’re overreacting. 

Also makes sure nobody outside of the house knows how...unsightly of an ordeal it was. He isn’t shaming you internally or anything, but he’d loathe to have such an unpretty picture in people’s heads when you’ve been nothing but showstopping the whole time beforehand!

Will make sure to grab a seat across from you juuust before you take a bite for a while. It doesn’t matter if he’s across the room in the middle of a story or if you’re at a cafe with someone else and he’s still home. You’ll find him sliding in wordlessly to the seat across from you and watching you intently, making sure you’re eating something that isn’t going to burn you from the inside out.

Has multiple websites bookmarked on his D.D.D. that tell him what is poisonous to you and makes sure YOU are aware of what you’re putting inside your body before you eat it. He seems to genuinely think you’ll forget to save yourself from such a life-threatening situation, but the pout he gives you when you try to get him to stop is enough to convince you to live with it.

When you start coughing:

When you start coughing, he reaches over and starts patting your back absently in the way that usually helps.

He notices the way you grasp onto the table in an attempt to keep yourself up, coughing into your other hand as it gets worse by the second. When you almost slip off, he reaches out to catch you before you hit to floor

Is ready to do the Heimlich when one of his brothers stops him because 1) he’d probably snap you in half, and 2) that’s not what’s happening

He watches blankly as Satan approaches him, laying you down gently as instructed. That’s probably worse, watching you writhe on the floor like that.

He’s the one instructed to help hold you down so they can feed you the potion cure. He wants to hold your hand but it’s covered in blood, and he doesn’t want to risk loosening his grip on you and you somehow spilling it.

Taking care of you afterwards:

He’s the one most shaken up about the whole ordeal, I’d think? While the others are definitely worried he’s the one that has the BIGGEST problem with the feeling of helplessness so I think it would bring back some memories

He definitely keeps a watchful eye over you until you can tell him coherently that you’re okay, and even then he’s still treating you like porcelain for a short while

He can’t help it! Any time he’s reminded of just how frail you can be (and how unexpectedly something horrible can happen) he just...needs a few gentle moments to collect his thoughts.

Does NOT want you even looking at anything that has that plant in it (or anything else poisonous for that matter). Will straight up eat an entire dish from the pan if you give it a glance that he thinks means you’re thinking about eating it. He can usually get away with it since that’s similar to what he already does, but every now and then you see the look in his eyes and wonder if there’s something more to it

He’ll warn you in the future if he knows something is poisonous, but if you’re trying something new he’ll automatically ask you “Can you eat that?” If he doesn’t know, he can at least remind you to check for yourself.

When you start coughing:

Very few things can snap Belphegor out of a drowsy dinner stupor. You suddenly falling on the floor and coughing your insides out is one of the things that can.

If his brothers weren’t so concerned with you, they’d have a few quips about how quickly he startled awake

The first thing he does is dart his eyes back to the table, where he quickly realizes that they just inadvertently poisoned you. When he turns back, it seems the others have already come to that conclusion and someone is running off to help you

He knows that he doesn’t have much to offer in terms of help, but he will tear somebody (Mammon) away from you and kneel next to Beel.

He keeps himself under control by comforting Beel as he holds you down. 

There’s definitely a sick feeling in his stomach, something familiar about you lying on the floor and bleeding that he doesn’t like. He pretends to be averting his eyes at the sight of them forcing a potion down your throat and not some regrettable memory.

Taking care of you afterwards:

You wake up and Belphie is curled up next to you in your bed. Nobody else is in the house and it’s 3 PM. You feel gross and you can’t reach your phone to actually confirm what time it is and you have no idea what the fuck is going on until he wakes up

Which he does, after you poke and prod him enough and he’s very grumpy about it

“yeesh, you get poisoned and suddenly you think you’re the princess of the devildom”

“I get WHAT”

Definitely is planning to get Mammon back tenfold

He tries to act nonchalant about it but he does keep waking up ever few hours and lifts his head to like. check that you’re good for the first day or so. 

Sometimes he gets this sad look in his eyes and you have to smooth his hair back and reassure him that everything’s okay. It works a little but if he thinks he can trick you by pretending to sleep and then steal a few moments where he can Brood on his own while STILL cuddled up next to you, he will.

Suddenly takes an interest in what you’re eating. Every day. Every meal. 

He doesn’t go to check on you but he does text you a few minutes before lunch or if you’re getting dinner somewhere other than the house “What are you planning on eating?”

Gets real huffy if you don’t give him a straight answer. Usually will respond with a “Whatever don’t get yourself almost killed again”

If you decide to get cheeky and answer “Probably straight poison, like right out of the mysterious bottle with a skull on it” he will just say “ugh, sounds like you. have fun.”

“...”

“...”

“...seriously, don’t do that mc.”

he sets alarms to wake up so he can make sure you don’t ingest literal poison be a little nice to him please

[young-dumb-and-vaccinated]

The Sommelier (Hannigram x Female!Reader) pt. 26

Hannibal, Will and y/n host a dinner to put an end to everything

@dovahdokren @deadman-inc-bikeshop @lov3vivian @wisesandwichshark @scpdragon

Trigger warnings: PTSD, violence

"Hannibal, baby," You called down from the wine cellar. "Which one pairs best with the paella?"

"A Spanish white!" Will interjected.

You rolled your eyes, then looked at his shelf full of Spanish whites. "Thanks, Hannibal."

"You're the sommelier, [F/N]." Will shouted back. "Go with your gut!"

"Verdejo it is." You said to yourself, grabbing the high-shouldered bottle from the shelf.

You returned from the cellar and headed to the dining room, where Will was dutifully setting the table.

"Well aren't you the perfect little homemaker?" You commented, making sure he caught you eyeing his backside.

Will playfully snatched the wine from your hands. "We can't all be the breadwinners, can we, Ms. Restaurant Owner?"

You laughed, looking around at your triple-income house and accepting a kiss from your Will. You put your hands on his shoulders and broke the kiss.

"You know Hannibal isn't going to let you attend one of his famous dinner parties in a flannel, right?" You warned him, lips hovering a few inches from his face.

"Two guests is not a dinner party." Will corrected you. "I figured you'd know this after six months but, baby, Hannibal is always overdressed for everything."

"Better overdressed than the other way around, my treasure." Hannibal said, standing in the threshold. "Why don't you go slip in to that suit I bought you?"

Will threw his hands up. "Do you two just live to gang up on me? You know I can buy my own clothes, right?"

You scoffed. "Babe, you spent your last paycheck almost entirely at Bass Pro Shops-"

"And then we spent the day workshopping new seafood dishes for the restaurant with the fish I caught." Will shrugged. "You don’t get to benefit from it then complain."

You put up your hands in surrender. "Fair enough."

"So I don't make an ordeal out of this in front of guests," Hannibal said, reaching into his pocket. He pulled out two small drawstring bags and gave one to each of you. "Happy six months, my darlings."

"Six month anniversary presents?" Will laughed. "What are we, high school students?"

"Do you not want it?" Hannibal raised an eyebrow.

"I didn't say that." He mumbled.

You opened the bag and slid the contents into your hand. A beautiful solid white ring with ornate carvings tumbled out.

"It's beautiful." You smiled, sliding it on to your finger. "What is it?"

"A ring, my indulgence." Hannibal chuckled.

You narrowed your eyes at him. "Sure, but what is it made of?"

He hesitated for a moment. "Ivory."

"Should I be concerned that you somehow know both of our ring sizes?" Will asked, admiring how his fit perfectly on his finger. 

“I think you mean ‘thank you, Hannibal’.” You corrected him. “Even if it is a little uncanny.”

The doorbell rang. Hannibal threw a dish towel over his shoulder and pointed to Will.

"Go change." He ordered. "I will not have my guests seeing you in such an unsightly state."

"It's Jack and [F/N]'s friend." Will protested.

"Sure, I'll get the door." You said. "Gee, thanks [F/N], that would be so helpful!"

You opened the door with a smile.

"Agent Crawford!" You greeted, shaking his hand.

"Oh, please." He laughed. "Call me Jack."

"And this must be Bella." You said, offering his wife your hand. "Jack has told me all about you."

"So you're the infamous [F/N] [L/N]?" Bella accepted with a smile. "It's so nice to meet you."

Jack removed his hat and coat, then handed you a bag. "For you."

"You shouldn't have." You said, knowing immediately that it was wine. Then you pulled it out of the bag. Your eyes went wide and your jaw hung open.

"Holy shit you really shouldn't have." You repeated.

Jack shrugged and smiled smugly. "I pulled some strings in evidence. Figured you might want it."

You threw your arms around his neck, keeping a tight grip on the 1907 Heidsieck Monopole.

"Hey, do I get a hug?" Said another voice.

Charissa waved to you from the porch.

"Holy shit, hey!" You opened your arms. Charissa jumped into your embrace and squeezed you. She'd always hugged you tighter after seeing you half-alive in a hospital bed with your seldom-seen lovers at your bedside.

"Jack, this is my friend Charissa Rodriquez." You introduced. "She was the one who sent you the address."

"So you're 'tip', huh?" Jack's face lit up. "The FBI owes you a debt of gratitude, Ms. Rodriquez."

"Tip?" You said, looking at both Jack and Charissa.

"The address we received came from an obvious burner email." Jack explained. "We thought it was from Chase, so we arrived with a ton of backup anticipating an attack. Turns out we needed it."

Charissa shrugged. "I thought you could never be too careful."

"Well, intentional or not," Jack said. "You helped us a lot."

"You're Charissa Rodriquez?" Will said from the staircase. He wore a grey suit with a dark blue dress shirt that fit him scarily well considering he hadn't even tried it on.

"Enchanté, monsieur." Charissa said, eyeing him up with a hungry smile. "You must be Will."

"Down, girl." You crossed your arms. Your tone was playful, but had a slight threatening bite. "He's all mine."

"Not all yours." Hannibal corrected, entering the scene to finally greet his guests. "Agent Crawford, Bella, Ms. Rodriquez, welcome."

"Wow." Charissa said, dumbfounded. "I feel like I'm meeting a celebrity."

"Oh, surely the rumors unraveled after the old place went out of business." Hannibal answered. "There are far more interesting things to talk about than myself."

"Very few, but they do exist." Jack commented.

Charissa folded her arms. "Like the bartender who stood up to a psychotic cult leader and found two wonderful boyfriends to take care of her?"

"I've heard that one!" You added. "I hear she bought the restaurant for next to nothing after it became a stigmatized property."

Carissa narrowed her eyes at you. "I still cannot believe you told him."

You shrugged. "I think it all worked out."

Hannibal gathered everyone around the table and tasked you with pouring the wine.

"Surely you know why I've invited you here tonight." He asked, taking a seat at the head. "The high courts have ruled Chase's death a suicide."

"Cheers to that." Will said, raising his glass.

"Nobody actually believes it was a suicide." Jack clarified, trying not to look at you too obviously. "But the jury didn't want to dignify him with a proper homicide ruling."

Charissa glared at you, not trying to not be obvious. "Only one person at the table knows for sure."

You shook your head. "I hit my head really hard, the details are just not there."

"But [F/N]'s DNA was on the gun." Bella added.

"But not her fingerprints." Jack said. "It was saliva. We think he tried to choke her with his fingers before reaching for the gun."

"Did you ever find that finger?" Charissa said like it was nothing.

Jack, who was more interested in the paella than the conversation, shook his head. "Never."

Your eyes widened. You left the finger with the gun, you were sure of it.

"Must we discuss the gory details over dinner?" Will said, sensing your discomfort.

Charissa rested her chin in her hands. "Would you rather talk about your three-person couple?"

"I distinctly remember spitting the finger out." You insisted.

"We found so many pieces of bone in that room," Jack continued. "It's genuinely of far less concern than the dynamite lining the walls and bunker full of cocaine, stolen medical supplies and baby coffins."

"And the stained glass window made of human skin." You added.

"You know a case is fucked when a lost finger is of the least concern." Charissa commented.

"The important thing is that it's over." Will said. "He's dead and [F/N] is alive."

Bella smiled at you. "God really is looking out for you, [F/N]."

You forced a smile, telling yourself that Bella had the best intentions. But her good intentions revived Chase's voice in your head, which was a voice you'd spent the last six months trying to forget. You tightened your grip on your utensils to relieve some tension, but it didn’t work.

The table went quiet, waiting for Bella to realize her mistake. Will put his hand over yours and looked into your eyes. He mouthed the word 'breathe' and some similar affirmations.

Hannibal raised his head, knowing the light casting shadows on his face intimidated people. "Ms. Bella, we generally don't talk religion here."

She covered her mouth with her fingertips. "I'm so sorry, [F/N], I just meant-"

You put your hand up. "Please, just don't."

"The important thing is that [F/N] recovered forty missing women and reunited them with their families." Will said. "And there was no divine presence involved in that."

You smiled softly. "I'll drink to that."

"And you'll also be happy to know that the woman who assisted him in luring all those girls into the cult," Jack added. "She's looking at twenty-five to life without parole."

"What about the babies?" Bella piped up. "Weren't there, like, at least twelve newborns?"

"That's where the department of family and child services took over." Jack answered. "Whether the biological mothers kept them or put them up for adoption is out of our hands, but I do know each child was thoroughly examined and are all up to date on their shots."

"Seriously, though." Charissa interjected. "How do you misplace an entire finger?"

"It's one of the easier appendages to misplace." Hannibal answered, speaking with experience. "I heard it wasn't just the one that you couldn't find."

Jack looked up from his plate, confused. "Now how did you know about that?"

"The man took a 12 gauge bullet directly to the hand, Jack." Hannibal said with a small chuckle. "It's more likely you find no fingers than any at all."

"The bones will turn up somewhere." Jack said, resignedly. 

He just happened to say the word “bones” as you were glancing at your ring. 

You smiled a little too wide. “They just might.”  

[ava-achlys]

The Boyz NSFW Scenarios

Lee Jaehyun (Hyunjae) - Refresh

college student! Hyunjae x milf! reader

Warnings: unprotected sex, cheating, mild spanking, mild degradation, dom!Hyunjae

Ok so I definitely do not encourage or condone cheating. Just been thinking about college student Hyunjae taking up a job as your pool boy for the holidays. You - a rich, elegant but lonely housewife, cooped up in a large beautiful house with nothing (or noone) to do. Hyunjae - a dashing young man with a bright smile and strong work ethic (depends what or who the work is).

Your new pool boy is a sweetheart, listening to your woes and keeping you company throughout the day. One day, you're frustrated at your boring sex life, wishing for something new, and he takes matters into his own hands.

You're bent over the kitchen counter, nightdress bunched up around your waist, moaning loudly as Hyunjae pounds into your tight pussy. He's got his large hand around your waist, and the other in your hair, pushing your face onto the surface of the counter. This position hurts your jaw, but you were so lost in the pleasure between your thighs that you didn't mind.

"Your husband could never make you feel this good," Hyunjae grunts, punctuating every word with a harsh snap of his hips into yours. You groan as you feel your sensitive nipples drag across the counter with every thrust. Your husband was the last thing on your mind when your favorite pool boy was fucking you till your legs wobbled.

After weeks of you ogling him as he worked on cleaning and maintaining your pool, casual touches on his toned arms and sharing drinks once he was done, you finally made a move. You had greeted him at the door as usual and left him to work in your backyard as you rushed upstairs to change. You came back downstairs, dressed in a skimpy, see through slip dress and called him from the kitchen. He turned and saw you dressed like that, holding two glasses of drinks, and he dropped everything in his hands.

Hyunjae walked over to you, his eyes roaming all over your body, an intense look in his eyes. His fists were clenched with the effort to resist taking you right there and then, and it made his muscles even more prominent under his white sleeveless tee. You offered him a drink and he sips it quietly, eyes never leaving yours; a stark contrast to his usual bubbly self. Granted he was rather shy when he first started, but he soon opened up and often chatted with you as he worked, listening intently as you talked about your kids, your life as a housewife, and even your husband. Your sweet, kind, but rather passive husband, who rarely initiates sex and even if he does, it's always too vanilla for you.

Today you were complaining about the latest argument you had between you and your husband. Him having a low sex drive and you, being cooped up at home while the kids were at school and daycare. You had needs too, and you needed fulfilment, you lamented as you placed a manicured hand on his muscular chest. Hyunjae nodded understandingly as he finished his drink. He set his glass on the table before pushing you into the marble kitchen counter, caging you in with his arms.

He leaned down to bring his face close to yours. "What if I could help you, you know, fulfil those needs?" He asked gently, eyes trailing down to your lips. You felt yourself getting wetter and your pussy throbbed at the thought of getting your way. "It's all I've wanted these since I met you," you breathed. He surges down to devour your lips, the sweet and gentle Hyunjae no longer present. His large hands grabbed at your tits, massaging them through the thin fabric as he shoved his tongue in your mouth.

You moaned shamelessly as he licks into your mouth, sucking and biting at your lips, spit going everywhere and he slots a leg between your knees. You subconsciously grind on his toned thigh, which he proceeds to move slowly, letting you use his leg to get off. He pulls apart from the kiss and grabs you by your jaw. "So needy, my sweet lady. Why get pleasure from my thighs when I can give you something better?" he smirked.

He pushed you to your knees as he freed his cock from his shorts and slapped his tip on your lips a few times. You wasted no time taking him into your mouth and sucking hard, rubbing your tongue all over his hard length and stroking his shaft with one hand. He groans at your skills, gripping your hair harshly as he thrusts lightly into your mouth. His sounds only make you wetter and you sneak your free hand into your soaked panties for some relief. Hyunjae noticed this and pulled harshly on your hair. "No touching," he snarled.

You whimpered around his dick and resorted to jacking him off with both hands as you continued to suck and lick him all over. He cums with a low groan, tilting your head back by your hair, blowing his load all over your face and chest. You keep stroking him until he stops spurting thick white cream. You scoop up his cum with a finger and swallow it, continuing to do so until your face and chest were clean, despite some cum stains on your dress. Watching you swallow his cum gets him hard again quickly and he pulls you back up to lean against the cabinets.

He starts to suck and lick your nipples through your dress, soaking the fabric with his spit, his hand rubbing your folds. Your moans turn into a yelp as you felt him rip your panties off and shove two fingers into your slick pussy, thrusting them roughly. He curls his fingers and you mewl, legs shaking from the force of his thrusts. You can barely hold yourself up as Hyunjae left marks across your chest despite your pleas not to. "Let your husband see them. Let him see how you let me wreck your body," he sneered, before flipping you over on your front.

He kneels down to lick a long stripe up your folds and gives your ass a harsh spank, making you cover your mouth to quieten your moans. He gets up and pulls both your arms back, telling you that he wants to hear your filthy noises, wants you to tell him how good he fucks you. He spreads your legs further apart and he eases his throbbing length into you, drawing a lewd moan from your throat at his size. The stretch of your walls burns deliciously and you find yourself pushing back into him. He laughs mockingly, "Let me do the work, mistress. I'll make you forget your husband ever existed."

He pulls out all the way and slams back into you at once, causing you to scream. He pounds into you mercilessly, grunting and cursing under his breath as he admires how wrecked you look, laying on the counter since your legs didn't have the strength to keep you up anymore. and your body jolting with the force of his hips. Your slutty moans echoing off the marble surface, spit drooling down your chin and your eyes rolling up into the back of your head.

"Has he ever made you feel this good? Ever been able to fuck you stupid like this? Turn you into a dumb whore, unable to speak 'cause you can only think about my thick cock that's fucking you so deep?" Hyunjae taunts you as he fucks you even harder and deeper, his orgasm building. You swear you can feel his dick in your tummy and you're sobbing, begging him to let you cum but he only spanks you and tells you to shut up.

He reaches down to rub your clit roughly, and you clench your pussy tight around his cock, prompting Hyunjae to cum inside you with a guttural moan. He keeps pumping into you, albeit a bit sloppily, as he rides his orgasm out and you can't handle the overstimulation, cumming all over his dick. He plays with your clit as you cum and your swollen walls clench and unclench around him, some of your mixed cum dribbling out and down your thighs. He slows down and rocks to a stop, leaning over your back to rest his forehead on your shoulder.

You're both panting harshly, Hyunjae's softening cock still inside you, preventing more of his cum from spilling out of your pussy. He kisses up your back and your shoulders, before turning your face so he can kiss you on your lips, even more gently than ever. You kiss him back, sweetly making out when you hear the kitchen door open, and you both freeze in shock as you realise your husband is home and gawking at your compromising position.

"Honey..?"

A/N: Gee I wonder why Younghoon is in that picture too 😉

[inkskinned]

When the honey showed up, we all just took it inside. That was one of the things about it - it was always a little warm, always in the same simple jar and the nice plaid bow. Handmade-like. Most of us put it in our pantries or in the back of our cabinets, some put it in the fridge. we just thought to ourselves: gee, what a wonderful present.

I don’t know how long it took before we all had one. For a while, the most that would happen was two-minute feel-good op ed pieces in local newspapers. People would run little letters to the editor to find out the “culprit”. Sometimes there were faux-serious “investigations” when that parent freaked out about the possibility of drugs in honey. Most of the time, it ended quickly. After all, it was a nice gift from a neighbor, and it was yours. that was another thing. A house could be 122 people, and we’d all find our own jar on the doorstep, one at a time. we would know when it was ours and when it wasn’t, no matter how alike they looked. nobody ate it, at first. It was yours, and you wouldn’t eat it, and you couldn’t eat another person’s. it just wasn’t done. and the thing is - in that imaginary house, of 122 people? we’d all buy other honey. it was both there and took up space - but none of us thought of it as actually existing. we’d put down our storebought honey right next to it and think - why did i buy another? i’ve wanted to try this one for a while. and then the thought would simply be out of our head, because this is our third bag of baby carrots we have bought to let spoil again.

it was that one person who mentioned it on youtube. actually i think it was a vimeo “urban legends” series. some person with 6 followers who deleted like instantly. but then 6 people said something similar: everyone they knew had this one specific honey story. and then 12. and then all of a sudden we all woke up to “#honeyonthedoorstep” globally trending. we all posted our pictures of our honey and called each other liars and got into discourse fights with vegans and people without a sweet tooth. In 24 hours, it was running the media. 9-at-night serious news anchors leaned over to each other and said “now john, did you hear about this?” and despite their disbelief, they’d admit: i got the honey too. I think somewhere in march. maybe around the 5th. but i never ate it or thought anything of it. i just thought - what a nice gift. 

By the end of the week, there were YouTube challenges and instagram memes and a netflix miniseries in the works. Lots of people tried to eat their honey, and most who “succeeded” were deemed a hoax - but truth be told? it’s not good tv to watch someone pick up honey and say “actually it’s not ready” or something similar and just decide to go do something else. i tried once, winedrunk and thinking i could be famous because it’s just honey. and i remember thinking that exact thing - it’s not ready. i realized i needed to go do dishes, this was stupid and kind of cringey. 

and people freaked out, of course. outside of the jokes were parents who were asking if their children would get a jar one day, if this was a one-time thing. there were so many conspiracy theories the government finally had to say something (not that any of us were actually listening), there were massive hunts to find “the team of honey dispatchers”, there were plenty of false confessions, there were rallies to destroy the things. i don’t know if anyone actually did, because in the end? it was just a jar of honey, and it was yours, and it would be a shame to throw it at the floor just because the internet told you so. I moved three times that year - grad school, job, other better job. i always took mine with me. it wasn’t a real choice, it was just... like taking a plate that belonged to your grandmother, or carrying a song stuck in your head. it was just something that was going to come with, but it bore no special attention. and then back into the pantry it went.

two weeks later? we all just... moved on from talking about honey. it was in some memes, it was in BuzzFeed’s “top 5 weirdest stories (that are actually true)”, it was going to be the central plot of books and horror movies. but it wasn’t interesting, not really, anymore. it was like saying “all people need food”. it was just true, and not really changing. every consecutive conspiracy video got less likes, and by the end of the year, it was old enough to be a staple in bad stand-up comedy and in coming-of-age children’s shows.

nobody believed the first ones who ate it. the most traction that those posts got were from friends and family who barely remembered the whole fad. we all just figured it was a weird annual resurgence kind of thing. 

but then people were definitely, absolutely, 100% eating their honey. i think i heard about one of my coworkers first. i didn’t know her; she was in another department. she told everyone it was very similar to “normal” honey. just a little tarter than she’d expected.

twitter was in an uproar. the honey was sweet to some. spicy to others. horrible, bitter, like a thousand stingers. it was perfect, it tasted like summer. most people said: it’s just honey, and absolutely regular.

those of us who weren’t ready were biting our fingernails for a while, going to our pantries, wondering - what the fuck do i mean it’s not ready? but it wasn’t ready.  

like i said, it’s warm, always. But you just... know. one day you realize you really want honey on toast. or honey on tea, honey on a banana, just... honey. i remember opening it, but it didn’t feel like any more interesting than going to the cabinet for honey ever feels. i pour mine, usually, skipping a spoon because i’m usually too lazy. i was already in the middle of my meal before i realized - this is the honey. it’s not just a normal breakfast, it’s the breakfast, holy shit. 

mine is just, you know. honey. it has a little hint of spice and sweet to it, which i actually quite like. it reminds me of this red pepper jelly my family used to get, and it makes me happy. but in the end? it’s honey. i don’t feel like i’m connected to a seventh realm. it’s good on oatmeal and bad in coffee no matter what some of you will tell me.

it’s just, you know. once you get your jar, and it’s ready, you have a little honey roughly every 24ish hours. it’s nothing absurd. it’s just honey, i mean - it’s like saying “you’re alive, so at some point, you should probably eat.” Most of us, it hasn’t really changed our schedules. it doesn’t seem to ever run out, which is good, because we’re always forgetting to check to see if we need more before we go shopping. for most of us? you don’t die if you miss a few days, even a few weeks, you don’t go crazy trying to get it back. sure, there’s weirdass cultists who worship it, but most of us just seem to think - it’s nice to have, and it’s okay to want this thing.

now, there’s some stuff out there, you know, about what it all “means”. and honestly, we all notice things. i’m not the only one who has seen that good people tend to think their honey tastes good and eat it normally. bad people tend to eat their honey frequently but hate every second of the eating. there are plenty who will snort and say “i’m a good person and i think it tastes like dirt” and plenty who will say “i’m a shit person and i think it tastes like the summer i finally kissed her”. and i don’t know, not the way i knew if it was ready, but it feels like a simple thing amidst all the messy. and it’s probably helpful that i think mine is, like most people’s, just a nice in-the-middle. i mean, the other day i heard it asked like a star sign - what’s your honey like?

there’s this one thing, though, you know. i choose to believe, because it might make me secretly happy. it’s like believing in nessie. i know realistically it’s probably just hearsay. but there’s this underground rumbling that, over time, the honey changes. just a little, every day, unnoticeable to most of us who go to work and do our best by others but still sometimes steal toilet paper. there’s these stories of people who made it rich by selling out their friends, who stole patents, who argue that others should charge for insulin - that they liked the honey, at first, but over time, it’s gone rotten. and similarly, every so often, there’s these stories of people who were normal “regular” honey people, who helped someone out of the bottom. who chose to be just a little bit better than they were the day before. who had moments of decisive kindness that changed them. they all say the same thing: since then, the honey has been amazing, and they work to keep it that way. 

my grandmother and my mother were never surprised. they have this saying about bees and their secrets. my mother said to me: we have always had these tiny angels. they’re just giving us each a taste of the world we are making.

my grandmother later tells me, while watering the flowers, almost the exact same thing: they will haunt us when they go, because they keep books in their combs. and they see us giants, and no matter who we lie to? the world of bees will know.

[toointofiction]

Cardan's Birthday Surprise

Pairing: Jude x Cardan

Genre: Romance

Rating: Mature/Explicit

Summary: Jude has been gone all morning. Cardan wonders where she could be and what she could possibly be doing when he walks into their bedroom only to find Jude there waiting for him with a really fun surprise. It appears he forgot it’s his birthday.

Check it out on Ao3

Or read it below

Cardan is walking back to his room, his guards trailing behind him, after a particularly long and dull meeting with the Living Council. This time it felt like they just refused to let him go. It didn’t help that Jude, inexplicably, did not show up for the meeting. This seemed highly unusual given that she is the most responsible out of the two of them. And this is not all. She was also out of bed before Cardan woke up this morning. No one seemed too concerned about it, which only made things more suspicious. In fact, upon asking the guards for his wife’s whereabouts, this morning, they were being suspiciously vague in their responses with a lushed, almost uncomfortable look on their faces. Like they were hiding something. He did not think much of it at the time but now he was starting to worry. Could she mean to put herself in danger again? Putting everyone under oath not to tell him anything certain that he would try to stop her? He found this to be entirely too possible.

Trying to stop himself from panicking prematurely, he reaches his bedroom door and pushes it open only for his eyes to practically jump out of his skull at what he beholds. Jude sitting up in bed with a wicked grin on her face and a mischievous glint in her eyes, wearing the craziest dress Cardan has ever seen. A long silky black skirt that stopped at her ankles with a wide split on the left side right above her hip revealing her long muscled leg. Its bodice, also black, was skin-tight, like a corset and delightfully diaphanous bushing her breasts up in a way that caused Cardan’s skin to tighten.

After a minute or so Cardan finds his voice. “What is this?” he asks hoarsely.

“Happy Birthday,” she says in a low, seductive voice. Still grinning like a cat that cornered its prey.

He completely forgot what day it is today. But Jude apparently didn’t. “Is this why you were absent since this morning?” he asks with disbelieve and awe clear on his face.

“Well, one of the reasons,” she reaches over to the bedside table and grabs a brown paper bag that Cardan didn’t even notice and holds it out in front of him. “Here.”

Cardan takes the bag. “I know it doesn’t look like a present in the paper bag, but I promise you’ll love what’s inside.” And sure enough, Cardan opens the bag, reaches inside, and pulls out a handful of candy, and based on how heavy the bag was, there are still a lot more inside. This is the same candy he tried while visiting Vivi in the mortal world with Jude a few months ago. Cardan remembers the fervour with which he ate them, relishing their sweet and sour flavour. He had never tried anything this deliciously sweet before and he was actually looking forward to having them again.

It occurred to him then, that he never told Jude about his newfound love for mortal sweets and didn’t know how she could have known to get him some for his birthday. He asked her about it.

“What,” she asked, coyly. “Did you really think I hadn’t noticed you devouring Oak’s candy like a starving man last time we visited them?”

He smiles softly, feeling a warmth rise in his chest at how well she knows him. At how often she watches him without him realising. At how lucky he is that she loves him so much.

“So,” Jude’s voice brings him back from his musings. “Which present do you want to open first?”

At that Cardan’s smile turns feral, he put the candy back in the bag, drops it by the bed, and climbs on top of his wife. “Do you even have to ask?”

He bends down and kisses her deep and long. He feels her arms wrap around his neck and pull him closer to her as he blindly reaches one hand for the straps in the middle of her dress’s bodice, pulling them undone, while the other is on her thigh slowly inching up to her hip. Higher. He notices then that she is, in fact, not wearing any underwear and feels a deep growl comes from his throat. “You are a menace.” Jude chuckles at that and bites his lower lip suggestively.

Cardan moves from Jude’s mouth to her neck, kissing lower and lower as he reaches the parted bodice of her now loosened dress. Then he pauses for a short moment to pull the dress down and off of her, sliding it down her supple legs as she unbuckles his breeches, pushing them down until he takes them off himself. His shirt follows soon after. They stay still for a moment, looking at each other, wide grins on their faces, panting slightly. Cardan’s tail wraps itself around her calf. We haven’t even started, yet.He feels a surge of wicked delight at that thought only for his mind to go completely blank as he feels Jude’s hand moving between his thighs and caging him in her palm, giving him a slight squeeze.

To retaliate Cardan bends over one breast and takes her nipple into his mouth. He sucks and bites until he hears Jude moan softly, feeling the hand that grips him squeeze a little tighter and move up and down at a slow, agonizing pace. Her other hand, then, tangles in his hair, pulling at his roots hard and urging him for more. Cardan is more than happy to comply, switching from one breast to the other while using one hand to pinch and pull the nipple he just abandoned and the other to slip between her thighs, find her clit with his fingers and coax louder moans out of her.

He, then, slips two fingers inside her, feeling her clench and unclench around him, pumping in and out of her until she arches her back into him, gasping his name over and over. “Cardan. Cardan. Cardan.” He uses his thumb to rub her clit, forcing her to clench her thighs around his hand as she lets out a loud moan, tightening her fist in his curls and coming on his fingers.

Cardan lifts his head from her breasts, shoots her a wicked smile as he begins a descent down her body only to be stopped by Jude gripping both his shoulders hard. He looks at her in confusion but before he can say anything Jude wraps her legs around his waist and twists them so she’s on top of him. She smiles at him again and Cardan feels like he could die looking at her. Before he realises what’s happening, Jude has both his arms trenched above his head and is tying him up on the bed’s headboard with a silk rope. Once she is done tying him up, she looks down at him with that same wicked grin she had when he walked into their room and says, “Happy Birthday” in a low, sensual voice. Cardan’s eyes follow her as she starts kissing him down his chest and across his abdomen until she reaches his cock, taking him in one hand, pumping him once, kissing his tip. And then she looks him in the eye as she slowly, inch by inch, takes him in her mouth. The sensation, the sight. It’s all too much to take. He has to shut his eyes tight, lean his head back in sweet agony while biting his lip hard enough to draw blood.

Jude continues to torture him delightfully, with her warm mouth tense around his cock, the scraping of her teeth on his soft skin, the swiftness of her tongue driving him crazy. “Jude. Oh fuck. Jude.” He doesn’t last long. He comes hard and fast spilling into her mouth and down her throat. She takes it all. Never breaking eye contact. Once she’s finished with him, she licks his length slowly up to his tip, gives him another kiss, and moves up to kiss him hard on the mouth.

“How are you liking your present, baby?” All he can muster for an answer is a pathetic grunt that sounds more like a purr. She chuckles, leaving feather-light kisses on the side of his neck, under his ear. She whispers, “Want me to keep going?” There’s a shiver crawling down his spine at her voice, at what she’s asking him. He barely gets out a “Yes”. She kisses him once more, hard on the mouth, and moves to straddle him. “Good.”

She grabs his shaft once more, lining him up to her entrance, and pushes him into her slowly. Torturously. They both moan loudly at the sensation. He will never get sick of this, he realises. Never get sick of her. Every moment with her feels like an unbelievable dream. Like he’s somehow mortal, under gees. She slowly picks up the pace. Going faster and faster the closer she gets to climax. Cardan can do nothing but watch as she guides a hand downwards and starts rubbing herself. The other goes to her beast, catching her nipple between her index finger and thumb. The sight is too much. He tugs unconsciously at the robe, forgetting momentarily that he’s still tied to the headboard, thinking he could touch her himself. She rides him faster and harder, the room fills with their groaning, grunting, moaning. Until Jude abruptly stops, throws her head back, and lets out a long, loud moan that sends Cardan over the edge, breathes out Jude’s name as she falls limp on top of him.

Several moments pass as they both try to catch their breath. Jude finally reaches out and unties him. He wraps his arms around her almost immediately and asks, “Should we have some candy?”

[weasleyswizardpleases]

Funny Girl (Fred x reader, George x reader)

Summary: Being serious has never been your thing, but when you find yourself at the center of a conflict that tears Fred and George apart in the midst of the second wizarding war, it’s hard to find something to laugh about.

Warnings/Notes: Language, kissing, violence mentions, love triangle?, angst, arguing. Vaguely conceptually inspired by the musical of the same name. Written for @acosmis-t​ ‘s 2.2k writing challenge! 

You’re sitting with George outside of Lee Jordan’s flat, waiting for Fred to finish recording Potterwatch so you can all three grab dinner. You listen absentmindedly on a small radio George produces from his coat pocket, fiddling with your wand. 

“Rapier,” you laugh, “I know it’s called ‘pirate’ radio but it is a bit swashbuckling, don’t you think?” you say, poking fun at the moniker Fred’s chosen for the program.

“I suppose Lee thinks so too, this makes it the third program in a row where he’s called Freddie ‘Rodent’ instead. I’d laugh if we didn’t have the same last name!”

“Well, it suits you both. You’re devious as a couple of weasels and fuzzy, too,” you say, prodding at George’s springy ginger hair playfully. He grins and brushes you off, but your touch seems to stir something in him.

“What is it, did I hit your factory reset button or something?” George smiles halfheartedly, but his brooding becomes more apparent as he tries to cover it up. “C’mon, what’re you pouting about Georgie?”

“Y/n, I have to tell you something,” he says. Your heart sinks at the words. It sounds oddly serious.

“Oh, this can’t be good news,” you mutter, looking at him expectantly. He takes a deep breath.

“Well, I suppose it’s up to you whether it’s good or bad. But hey, look, you have to promise not to tell Fred if it winds up being bad.”

“Deal.”

“Y/N,” he says, turning down the radio, “I like you,”

“Well gee, I like you too. We’ve been friends for about nine years and you’re just now figuring out that you like my company? Some people, I swear.”

“No, I like you. I mean, I, uh, I have feelings for you! But it’s complicated.” Your jaw drops and your hand flies to your mouth.

“Oh! What? You mean-”

As you’re searching for the right words, the door swings open and Fred spills out into the hallway, tugging his long winter coat over his slim shoulders. You try to cover your blush, glancing between them. Fred and George. George and Fred. Your two best friends since first year, your greatest confidants, and now, the two people you trust most amidst the terror of the war. You know instinctively that to be with George would be to close a door to Fred, not just in terms of romance but also friendship. 

“Later,” you hiss excitedly in George’s ear. Fred eyes the two of you suspiciously, but before he can say anything, you’re mocking him boisterously. 

“Good show, Rodent!” you say, clapping him roughly on the back. George composes himself nervously and follows as you and Fred turn to leave. “How about a hunk of cheese? I’ll take you out for something real nice, maybe a wheel of gruyere,” you add. Fred chuckles and throws his arm around you. You’ve always had a more physical friendship with Fred, whether it’s snuggling on the couch or shoving each other about over who gets the better seat on the train. You hope that he can’t feel how tense George’s proposition has made you, and you wriggle out of his arms and jog ahead playfully. 

Because of the affectionate nature of your relationship, you’ve always suspected that Fred may have feelings for you, but never George. You’re blindsided by his confession, and you know it’ll only come between you. Your train of thought is interrupted when the boys ask if you want to come back to theirs for dinner instead of going out. You agree absentmindedly, and Fred steps away to call for takeaway. You willfully ignore George’s pointed glances and look around airily. 

“Y/N,” George says quietly, but forcefully. You sigh.

“Is there something wrong, George?” you say at a normal volume.

“Hush, would you? Well, have I made you uncomfortable or something? You’re being odd, Fred will wonder what’s the matter.”

“You haven’t told Fred?” you sing loudly, hoping to pull the other twin into the conversation. George smacks his forehead and groans, but Fred isn’t paying any attention.

“Y/N, can’t you be serious for one second?”

“Bloody hell, can’t you let me alone for one second?” you snap, surprised at the bite in your voice. George cowers and frowns, but Fred returns before the conversation can continue.

The next few weeks are relatively normal, and you begin to think that your strategy of avoiding any acknowledgement whatever of George’s advances is working. You avoid spending any time alone with George. Most people wouldn’t think it, but you know the twins keep secrets from each other sometimes, like any siblings do, and he obviously hasn’t told Fred about his feelings.

While you’re evading intimate moments with George, you take time to think: do you have feelings for him? The answer is, of course, yes. You’ve always thought he was more classically handsome than his brother, even though a lot of your classmates still couldn’t tell one from the other after years living with them. George’s face is slightly longer and more defined, and the severity of his features can be quite striking, in the right lighting. He’s also always struck you as more outwardly sensitive and caring, in that he notices your feelings more readily. If you’re having a bad day, George is the one to lend a listening ear. He’s seen you at your worst and apparently likes you quite a lot in spite of it.

Fred, on the other hand, is more like you in every way: he’s the louder one of the twins, more boisterous, a bit rougher looking. Like you, it takes a lot to ruffle his feathers, but once something gets to him, he’s quick to anger. Your tempers have rarely led you to fight, but when it’s happened George has always been there to smooth things out between the two of you. You’d even say that you’re slightly closer to Fred, although your relationship with him is more intuitive than your friendship with George- with George, you explain yourself, but with Fred, there’s no need. 

You’re pondering the situation on the boys’ sofa when Fred bursts through the door, looking quite cheeky. His shifty eyes belie some sort of mischief.

“Alright! Out with it, or I’m leaving before you get me with the bucket over the door trick again! I haven’t got any dry clothes,” you pout.

“Who’s to say there’s anything to tell?”

“I’ll believe that when you wipe the smirk off your face,” you counter. 

“What smirk?” he says, blushing. You raise your wand defensively. 

“Hey! I pinky promise, I’m not planning on pranking you,” he says. You wiggle your wand, raising an eyebrow.

“What are you planning, then? Tell me or I’m tying your shoelaces together with this thing.” 

“Fine, but would you put the wand down? It’s not a prank, I promise.” he moves to sit on the couch and you cower, giggling, sure that he’s at least going to go in for a tickle. 

“I’m not gonna tickle you!” he exclaims, but wiggles his fingers in your direction. The mere idea of it makes you shake desperately with laughter. 

“Stop! Ah! Liar!! Oh! Fred!!!” He lowers his hand. You eye him suspiciously. He sighs. You nod at his hands, as if telling him to put them away. He sighs again and sits on them. You regain your composure cautiously, but as soon as you look away he’s tickling your relentlessly, his hands at your ribcage. You howl with laughter, kicking and rolling away from him, but it’s no use. He pins you under his body on the couch and shoves one hand in your armpit. You’re nearly crying with laughter now.

“Mercy! Uncle! Ah!” you cry, and he pauses. His hips are situated between your thighs, which you’ve been trying to use to push him away, and his face is close to yours. 

“You want me to stop?” he asks teasingly, ghosting a hand over your ribcage, causing you to burst with laughter again. 

“Please! Fred!” He looks around, as if to an imaginary audience.

“What can I say, I know how to make a girl beg,” he says smugly. You swat him, bringing on another round of tickles, this time one hand at the nape of your neck and the other on your waist. You feel a bulge in Fred’s pants that makes you feel warm inside. The excitement of your scuffle has made you feel a bit happy go lucky. In another pause, you look up at Fred invitingly, even tilting your body into his just slightly. It’s not something you think about- you just do it.

He takes your invitation and suddenly his lips are on yours and it’s not a joke anymore, it’s just a really great kiss, rough and wet and full. His hips press into yours and you can feel his cock hardening. You keep going for a long time, too long, before you pull away. 

“Fred,” you say, panting with shock and excitement.

“Y/n,” he says, the same emotions playing across his face.

“We can’t.”

“Why not?” he says, running a hand over your thigh.

“George…”

“No love, I’m Fred, good guess though!” he kisses your neck softly and you push him away.

“Freddie! I’m serious, I don’t want to.” He looks at you, confused and resigned, and pulls away. You stand up and straighten your clothes.

“Well, I’ll be off then. Say, be a doll and don’t mention this to anyone?” You say in a droll transatlantic accent. You groan internally. Why are you being so weird right now? You slip into your shoes and shut the door behind you, your heart pounding.

You’ve never been much on dating. 18, still a virgin, only kissed one boy, your date to the Yule Ball. Most men view you as a friend, nothing more. You’re a bit funny looking, and you’ve never gotten anything on looks alone; it’s your personality that wins you friends. That’s how you became friends with Fred and George- you were a class clown, just like them, and the three of you have always been well liked for it. Fred and George, though, were tall and handsome, and unlike you, had a lot of luck where romance was concerned. Their girlfriends were always jealous of you, but you thought nothing of it, since you were practically one of the boys. You see now that they were right. How odd.

You’re so wrapped up in your thoughts that you don’t hear George coming up the stairwell as you’re descending, and nearly bump into him on the landing. 

“Oopsie!” you squeal. Oof, you think. I sound like a babbling idiot. “Oopsie poopsie!” you add, thinking that if you make it clear that it’s a little joke it’ll be less of a weird thing to say. George completely ignores your muttering and advances toward you, backing you into the corner.

“Y/n,” he says softly.

“George.”

“You’re blushing.”

“You’re standing on my foot.” He jumps back and looks down. He is not standing on your foot. “Gotcha!” you say, flicking him on the nose.

“You smell like cologne,” he says, inhaling.

“So do you.” He laughs softly and you scoot backwards, hoping to resist a second romantic encounter. He looks very handsome in the dim lighting of the stairwell, his eyes glimmering. You’re so close now that you’re nearly touching. You draw a deep breath, and before you can speak his lips are on yours. He’s softer and slower than Fred, but his kiss is deep and erotic. His hands move to the small of your back and caress you gently. The hairs on the back of your neck stand up as his lips move from your lips to your chin to your neck to your breast. You sigh with delight, but you hear the door at the top of the stairs open and push him away. You look up to see Fred, his face dark and crestfallen. You could crack the tension in the air with a spoon. You wrack your brain for a way to diffuse the tension, landing on jazz hands and a wry smile.

The boys frown, ignoring you, seemingly beginning to realize the situation. They look at each other in silence for a moment. “Tough crowd,” you mutter. 

“Oh, I see,” Fred says stormily. “Fine, you’re all his then.”

“What?” George asks, confused.

“You see the way I look at her. You had to know how I feel.”

“How could I know if you didn’t tell me? Why wouldn’t you tell me?”

“I thought if I told you, you might tell her! With your little late night conversations and all,” Fred says accusingly.

“How can you be jealous of me talking to our friend when you’re practically feeling her up at every opportunity?”

“It was never like that!” you protest.

“Not until today,” Fred counters. “Or did you forget about that when you ran into my brother?”

“Wait a second, did you two…?” George glances between the two of you suspiciously. 

“No!” you and Fred say in unison.

“We just kissed,” Fred says sheepishly. “Don’t worry though, I only beat you to her by a few seconds! You know what, come on up to the flat, we can take turns if that’s how it’s going to be!” He’s drunk with anger, his jaw clenched tightly.

“Oh my god! I just realized something!” you exclaim loudly, silencing both of them. You pause and drink in the quiet. “You two blokes look just alike!” you say in a thick cockney accent. George shrugs at you tiredly as if to say what the fuck. Fred spits as he turns to retreat to the flat.

“Go home, Y/n,” he says, shutting the door loudly. George just sighs as he stalks back downstairs, and you hear the bell ring as he exits through the front door of the shop. You slump to the ground, embarrassed and somehow feeling guilty in spite of the fact that you aren’t sure what you could have done to fix things between the three of you.

“I wonder if they’re related,” you mumble innocently, looking around at your audience of none. Why is it, you wonder, that you’re always funniest when nobody is around to hear it?

[binniesthighs]

hello stranger | reader x changbin |

Part 3 

Pairing: self insert, female reader x seo changbin, female reader x han jisung 

Genre: strangers to lovers, fluff, smut, angst 

Tags: (of this part) college au, rapper!changbin, rapper!jisung, artist!reader, establishedfwb!jisung, skz side characters, explicit language, conflicting feelings angst, reader has past trauma/trust issues (implied), fingering (f receiving), multiple orgasms (implied), fluffy n’ intimate body touching (this is a thing I think lol), lil bit of nipple play, seo changbin being the soft soft dom of my SOUL 

Word count: 4.6k 

Chapters 

PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3 | PART 4

ding-ding-diNG! 

Your teeth chattered, battling the early morning frigid air. White wisps of your shaking breath vaporized in front of you. Your arms were tightly wrapped around your chest and your knees bounced with a little dance to keep your blood flowing. 

[02:29] CB

me: where the hell are you? are you coming down? 

Your dry and cold fingers typed out the words hurriedly on your phone screen. One more time, you smashed your finger on the buzzer button. You figured that if he had fallen asleep after inviting you over, you would kill him. 

“Come on, come on,” you hissed into the open air. 

Thick footsteps came clomping down the stairs from the other side of the frosted glass door, and your attention quickly whipped over. 

As expected, he had adorned himself in nearly all black clothing. Nevertheless, he had thought to pull out his silver chain over the padded coat with white stripes down the arms. 

“Took you long enough. Let me in, I feel like my toes are frozen.” 

Changbin’s eyes cast down to your thin canvas sneakers you had put on in your haste, which were now covered in snow. 

“You should have worn better shoes then. Lets get going.” 

“--Get going??” 

He swung the door behind him closed and it locked with a little click. 

“We’re going somewhere?” 

“I’m hungry.” Changbin simply announced, then took off walking down the block. 

“I thought that--” 

“--Keep up. It’s not that far.” 

He led the two of you onward, and you snuck one more look up at him and the way that the snowflakes got tangled in his hair. 

╚ ——————————————— ╝

“Here, be careful, it’s hot.” 

After brushing off the ice crusted bench, Changbin presented to you a giant bowl of steaming noodles so large you guessed you could keep live fish in it. The smell of the broth was dreadfully nostalgic and was full of all of your favorite ingredients, almost as if he had known exactly what you would’ve ordered. You couldn’t help but feel giddy while the steam wafted up your nose. 

You wondered with full eyes, “Oh my god, what is this?” 

“-The best thing that you’ll ever have in your life. You might as well thank me now.” 

You pulled the little heater closer towards the two of you with radiating orange coils. Changbin didn’t skip a beat sitting right down next to you, letting the fabric of both of your coats intermingle. 

“This is my favorite place in the city. Their recipes really remind me of my mom and grandma’s.” 

“Well I’m really excited to try.” You blew off a handful of noodles steaming into your nose while Changbin expectantly watched you hork it down. 

“So?” 

You covered your chomping mouth with your hand. “So, so good.” 

“Hmm.” He scoffed, then there was that smug little smirk of his. 

You thought to yourself that it was kind of cute. 

The two of you sat quietly together, watching the silent sounds of the snowfall on the road in front of you, following the cars that passed. Over time, your body seemed to gravitate: bit by bit and piece by piece, closer to the boy next to you. 

Changbin set down his metal chopsticks with a tiny clink on the table. “So, are you going to tell me about yourself now?” 

“Me?” 

“Didn’t I say last time I wanted to know?” 

You remembered, but this time you couldn’t as easily kiss away the questions on his lips. 

“How do you mean? There isn’t too much to know.” 

“I don’t think that’s true. What is it that you study?” 

“You want to know what I study?” 

You nearly laughed in your surprise at the mundane question considering that the person sitting across from you had seen you turned inside out, a moaning and muttering mess upon first meeting, and he wanted to know what you studied? 

“Why does that matter?” 

“Matters ‘cause I want to know.” He simply returned, and gave you that look. 

Normally his eyes were stormy grey, like the way that the sky would sizzle with energy before lighting would crack. They clouded with severity that seemed dangerous when he was angry, or when there was something that he wanted. But, looking at you like this, there was no danger that they held. 

“Are you going to tell me or just keep glaring at me like that?” Changbin nodded to your nearly empty bowl. “Finish that. Don’t let it go cold.” 

You did as you were told--at least it wasn’t answering the question. 

“Fine. You don’t have to tell me. But tell me something else at least. Why were you at that show?” 

“My friends took me? My friend Chan is really into underground rap and stuff like that so he usually drags me and Felix with him. I don’t mind.” 

“See? Was answering that that hard?” 

You had forgotten, then laughed a little to yourself. “Chan actually was there to see you. He had heard about you from whatever those circles are. He was really excited.” 

“I’m actually glad you were there for that reason. For a second there I thought you might’ve said that you were there to see Han Jisung.” 

You nearly spat out your bite of noodles, and choked a little on the broth. 

“Guy’s a fuckin’ showboat and a cocky asshole. The girls at the shows are usually there for him.” 

“What the fuck? You didn’t just say that.” 

Anger bit like acid in your throat. 

“What? He is!!” 

It should have hurt more that he had assumed that you were one of the masses that would fall over their feet for Han Jisung, but it didn’t. Your chest twisted in knots knowing that the assumption was right--that hurt the most. You felt sick knowing now how he would look at you if he knew where you would stoop. 

“I’m complimenting you!! I’m glad that you don’t waste your time on assholes like him.” 

“Since when do you get to pass judgement on who I do and don’t spend my time with? -And aren’t you one of those same assholes? Up there on that stage, what makes you think that you’re any different from the rest of them?” 

“I mean...I like to think that I’m not--” 

Your eyes rolled back so far it might’ve hurt a little. 

“You’re all the fucking same. I’m so fucking stupid.” 

The words quietly fell off your lips like venom. 

“We’re all?” What are you talking about?” 

“And what the hell is this with trying to get up all in my business? We fucked once Changbin, what more do you want from me? You think I owe you something now? I’m not falling for that again.” 

The crunch of your footsteps padded the snow when you turned out of your seat to speed away from him as fast as you could, and as far as you could. 

He was the unbelievable one. 

“Stop! I don’t get what you’re talking about. Falling for what again? You’re not making any sense! And no, I don’t think that you owe me something. I’m sorry if you thought that. I’m just--” He grabbed at your arm. 

“--WHAT?” you tore his hand away. 

“Is it a fucking crime to fuck someone and then give a damn about them? Ever heard about that happening?” 

In your life? 

Something terrible and suffocating rose in your chest that felt like a sob that you had held in for much too long. 

“Listen.” Changbin approached you closer, carefully, that look softening. “It’s freezing out here, it’s late. We...don’t have to talk about it any more. I’ll take you back to my place, I’ll call you a cab, you can go home? Okay?” 

Changbin poked out his arm looped in his pocket for you to link up to. 

You didn’t need his help when you knew the way. 

╚ ——————————————— ╝ 

Rosemary and cedarwood again. It was like it was everywhere. It was in the hoodie that he insisted that you put on and all entangled in the fabric of that blanket that he draped around your shoulders. Had you remembered what it was like under the covers of his bed, it was likely there too. 

“Warming up?” 

The bed bounced a little where he sat next to you with the tips of his ears pink. As cold as you were, you were certain that he must have been colder. 

“I’m fine. Thank you.” You crossed up your cold feet under your legs. 

“20 minutes? Then I’ll call them?” 

You nodded, pulling up the blanket hem to your nose and covering half your face. 

Changbin breathed out a little laugh. “You look like a marshmallow.” 

“Gee, thanks.” 

“Not a bad thing.” 

His smile fell, and he focused on the silver rings twisting around his fingers. He fiddled with them, and you watched, neither of you knowing really what to do with the silence. After some resolve, he crawled over next to you, to lay facing your bundled up face.

At last, he sighed, “I could tell you about me. If you care.” 

Rather than respond, you merely kept on looking at the way the silver would glimmer in the dim yellow of the light. 

“Everything that I do, I do to rap and to perform. My parents never supported me doing this kind of thing and said that if I wanted to do it, I would loose their support. After a while, I realized their support wasn’t that valuable anyway if it was going to be over something that didn’t matter to me. I moved out after high school, I’ve been doing this ever since.” 

“You like it that much?” 

He cracked his fingers, “Sometimes you just know what it is that you’re gonna spend your life doing. For me, it’s this.” 

Your eyes fell to your own hands which still were speckled with little flecks of acrylic. 

“I know what you mean.” 

“You do?” 

“I...paint. And stuff like that. It’s not my major, it could never be, but I feel like that when I’m mixing the colors together and it’s just right. Helps me get the thoughts outta my head.” 

“Yeah...it’s exactly like that.” 

In the warmth of the blankets, you felt a yawn escape your lips and your eyes grow heavy. Your vision had grown blurry, and your dry eyes begged for sleep, but you could still see the way that creeping little smile tugged at his lips. 

You thought to yourself that it was kind of cute. 

“Thank you for telling me something about you.” 

His voice was some kind of dreamy watercoloring of pale pinks and blues. You thought you had likely imagined it. The weight of his hand on your arm felt weightless too, why was it lingering here? His fingers tickled your ear while he swept your hair behind the skin. 

The way that he whispered, “You’re making me want to kiss you.” must have been some kind of dream too. 

Laying like this, right by your side reminded you for before, and the way that your brain had gone cloudy--you could’ve kissed him like that for hours. 

“You...didn’t stop yourself before.” 

Your challenge was all that he needed to take both sides of your face into his hands connecting himself to you incessantly, but gently. He spilled into your mouth kisses of sky blue and lavender, every single one more dedicated than the last. He kissed like he was dizzy and that you would make it all right for him, and like you were the one that he could find over and over. His mouth was blazing hot with warmth and he missed no part of you, moving on to kiss you in places you didn’t know needed the attention: over your bottom and top lip, in the corners of your mouth and the tip of your nose, carefully on the peach fuzz on your cheeks and the bone of your jawline. Each one was purposeful and sweet and melted into your skin snowflakes. 

His wandering hands were cold under the blankets, but you didn’t mind the sensation against your bare skin where he crept his way in, smoothing over the curves of your body. 

Changbin cascaded is way down, pulling you in by the hips closer to his own body. Your core tightened feeling his hands trickle over your waistband. 

“Can I?” He whispered into his kisses. 

You nodded: your exhaustion mixed with some state of unconscious desperation that you had entwined together, and you were completely at his mercy once more. 

“Yes. I’ve...wanted you to.” 

He popped the button and unzipped your pants with little effort, slipping those same cold fingers into the heat of your folds. You shivered with the two temperatures mingling and the pressure of his fingers on your slicked bud in little circles. 

All you could manage were a couple of attempts at forming some kind of words that would eventually get caught in your throat. With one hand, you clawed at the fabric of his tee, hoping just a little that he liked the way that your nails would dig into his skin. His digits mingled all in your arousal, and brought it back up to your clit to make it twitch. After a while he would let you throw your head back into the pillows to feel every little bit of it and focus only on the way that he would press his fingers in harder and faster, then tease you over with barely touching you at all. He would remove his fingers too, to admire the way that it would string between them, leaving you a writhing mess without him. 

“Bin, please, just wanna--” 

You didn’t need to finish your sentence before he granted your wish. He sped up for you, rubbing in perfect circles for your clit to throb under his touch, closer and closer... 

“Can I--?” 

He didn’t answer you, but instead, leaned down to fill your mouth with more kisses and maintained his pace with forearm muscles flexing slightly. 

Your orgasm was faster and much harder than you had expected: it rocked your whole body, from top to bottom where your legs thrashed and your toes curled. The muscles of your stomach tensed, and you felt your whole core spring upward as you came. Luckily, you remembered to be quiet and kept your breath short and sharp, letting only the tiniest of moans meet the air. 

Changbin helped you ride your orgasm out until you could take no more sensation, then stopped, snapping your underwear hem a little on the way up. He held you close as you caught your breath, snickering a little when your body would shake. Your euphoria calmed you down into an even more exhausted state, but the way that the endorphins coursed though you felt like a high. Greedily, the closeness and the way that your head spun made the word slip out of your mouth. 

“More?” 

Changbin said nothing while he indulged you and peppered your skin with kisses in all those places that you didn’t know needed the attention. He would smile into your lips each time that you would come undone; slipping deeper and deeper into him. 

“M-more. I just want...one...more.” 

╚ ——————————————— ╝

“Just skipping one class isn’t the end of the world. You know that you look like a mess right?” 

Minho, your assigned seat partner turned friend-in-suffering poked his pencil at the baggy black hoodie that you had forgotten to return. On the bus ride to campus, you had realized that you hadn’t taken it off. 

“I know, alright? You don’t have to remind me.” 

“You gonna tell me about it?” Minho poked at you once more with his teasing grin. You retaliated by raising your phone up as if to chuck it at his head. 

Behind the two of you, a group of two ambitious girls hushed as they organized their plethora of colored pens and highlighters. Minho bowed a little sorry in apology. 

His voice dropped to a whisper, “I’m assuming that this isn’t yours.” 

“I-it’s new. I just haven’t worn it before.” 

He scanned over the fabric and the little white brand on the left sleeve. “Huh. Must be a popular one I guess. I’m pretty sure that my one of my friends has the same one.” 

“--Will you lend me something to write on...and with? I...didn’t bring my stuff with me.”

“Really.” Your classmate tore out a piece of his notebook paper--a little extra loudly as well--just for those eavesdropping girls behind you. “You should’ve just not come.” 

To your left, your phone vibrated with the screen illuminated: 

Low Battery: 20% 

[10:39] 

felix: I can’t believe you. You went over there again? Didn’t you say that he looked at you weird or something like that?? What happened?? 

Your heart dropped a little remembering how you had pardoned Felix’s worried nagging and turned on the Find My Friends feature in your phone. 

“shit.” 

Your phone screen lit up the underside of your table as you frantically tapped through your settings to turn off the slide bar. In the corner of your eye, you had seen Minho take his phone under the table as well. 

[10:41]  

CB: good job leaving your keys at my place 

i can’t get them back to you until much later. i’ve got work. 

“shit.” 

me: i have work until later too 

and sorry 

CB: my roommate said that he could get them to you at 5. you’ll be at the library then? 

me: your roommate?? 

CB: relax. he doesn’t give a shit. 

╚ ——————————————— ╝

You read over the messages over and over, refreshing the little chat nearly every two seconds. Over the time waiting, your hand had grown embarrassingly damp, and your foot nervously tapped at the floor to the same tune that your chest thumped with your anxiety. 

This was fucking humiliating. 

Granted, you were no stranger to unsavory behavior, but somehow, this felt even worse. Furthermore, it all could have been avoided: 

What the hell had happened last night? 

It was becoming all too a common theme for you: you didn’t remember falling asleep, only waking up to the blaring of your alarm to those obnoxious Tardis sounds that were just a little too out of date...considering that you had long past all that Dr. Who stuff. 

Changbin had actually left the bed all to you, waking up some time a little before you from sleeping on the couch and offering you some horribly cheap tasting coffee. You still drank it. 

CB: just stand somewhere by the front door. i told him that’s where you’ll be. 

The library overlooked the main quad of your university. In the wintertime, the trees that encircled the usually grassy circle were reduced to craggy and bare fingers powdered in the white snow. 

“What the hell were you thinking?” You scolded yourself though clenched teeth. 

“--Y/n?” 

He had snuck up on you, coming from the right, rather than the front of the entrance. 

You squeaked out, “Oh fuck.” 

Minho twisted your jingling keys around his fingers. 

“This is...” Minho laughed out incredulously, “...a coincidence.” 

You clawed your keys from his hand with a hasty “Thanks.” 

His eyes scanned you up and down as if he was meeting you for the first time, which he certainly wasn’t. 

“The hoodie. Dammit. I should’ve known.” 

“I-I really need to get back inside, they might need me in th--” 

“--So you’ve been screwing him?” 

Your heart thumped even more painfully. 

“Wait, and you’ve been inside my apartment before and I didn’t even know?” 

“Well I didn’t know that you were his roommate!! I didn’t even plan on meeting any of you if I could help it!!” 

“So what is he, like, your type?” 

“HEY. I don’t mean to stay over, it kind of just happens...I didn’t even want to see him after the first time--” 

Minho scoffed then shoved his pink hands into the pockets of his navy and white striped bomber jacket. 

“Will I be seeing you around there now?” 

“--No.” You cut in. “You won’t.” 

Your classmate huffed out a visible breath, “You say that now, but I know that you don’t mean it.” 

“What the hell do you mean?” 

Minho rolled his eyes, then gave the top of your head a chastising pat. 

“If you’re gonna be over, you might as well bring snacks or something. No one in that damn apartment knows how to grocery shop for themselves besides me.” 

╚ ——————————————— ╝

Too many fucking coincidences. 

You had sat yourself at the exact same table that you had sat at the night before, but this time, you watched as it was Changbin who was standing behind the counter of the noodle shop, taking orders, and smiling much too widely for it to have been normal. He was even wearing one of those cutesy little aprons that the rest of the employees had: there was a little chicken embroidered in the corner next to his nametag. 

To anyone else, it made no logical sense why you had decided to show up there: but your frazzled brain still working off your embarrassment from earlier thought this was the best thing to do. You felt like yelling just to get something out of your body. It wasn’t even his fault that his roommate happened to be one of your friends. Your head however, made it his fault. 

He had clocked you from where you had sat fuming, not even looking phased at all. In fact, he had dished out for you one of those smirks. One of those stupid, cute smirks. 

“See you tomorrow.” He clapped his coworker on the back while he took off his apron. 

The shop door creaked out when he opened it. 

“Didn’t expect to see you here. You really wanted to see me that soon already?” 

You shoved the bundle of his hoodie from your hands to his. 

“Here.” 

“You came all this way just to give me my hoodie back? That and I’m assuming Minho told you that I work here.” 

“How come you didn’t tell me that before?” 

“Didn’t seem that important--” 

At last, you let yourself snap. “--You made a fucking fool of me today!! Do you know how awful it was??” 

“Ahhh Minho did say something about knowing you.” 

You had expected sympathy, but rather he teased you with that little cocky grin. Had you known any better, it was almost like he was admiring how flustered you had become. 

One, two, then three fat raindrops fell from from the sky and onto his parka, then the rest followed all at once. The bits of slushy and freezing rain barreled in suddenly and fell sideways. It slapped against the sidewalks and pattered on the shutters and gutters of the buildings lining the road.

“Great! This is just great!!” You pulled your coat over your head. 

Changbin grabbed at your hand without hesitation. “Come with me.” 

╚ ——————————————— ╝

“Open the door!! Open the door!!” 

Frozen bits of snow and rain matted your hair and dripped off into your collar; meeting your bare skin. Your entire body felt as if it had been plunged into a freezing cold ocean, and you shook with ferocity. By now, your jeans had completely soaked through with with water and the denim stuck to your legs. 

Changbin fumbled with his wallet and wet fingers, finally unlocking the door with that same, 

ding-ding-diNG! 

The heater in the little vestibule blasted you with heat upon your entrance: a welcome feeling to your drenched body. He had reached out for your hand to guide you to the elevator even though you knew the way. 

Water dropped off your bodies into the linoleum floor of the elevator and it got all muddled too by prints from your shoes. After, you followed him further into the apartment building, to the very place you had sworn up and down that you would never see again. You didn’t know how many more times you would have to say it out loud before you would actually obey your own words. 

“Fuck--it’s so cold.” 

Changbin clinked his keys into the brass keyhole in the long and dank hallway that had matted red velvet carpeting. There was an odd and old-looking stain in front of his door that you had noticed last time. 

“It’ll be warmer inside.” 

“Are you sure about that?” 

He didn’t need to, but he reached out to you once more to pull you through the doorframe. A sense of determination seemed to sweep over him, and you could just barely see that stormy expression cloud over his eyes. 

“Ah! Y/n! How nice to see you here officially at last!” 

Minho perked up from his book where he was cuddled up on one of those pleather couches in the living room. 

Changbin didn’t give you a chance to to respond, but rather tugged you away down the hallway to the bathroom at the very end nearest his room. 

“Changbin, what are you--” 

He slammed the door behind the two of you, then flicked on the lights at the exact same time as he crashed his whole body into you, flattening your back against the door and scooping up both sides of your face to run his cold lips over yours. His hands were just as cold, and the tips of his bangs dripped tiny droplets of water onto your forehead. 

In your shock, your hands were suspended in the air, but he just as quickly took them to wrap them around his sides. 

The wooden door rattled a little behind your back, but the sounds faded when he deepened his kiss: floating his tongue over your bottom lip and letting out a breathy little gasp along with it. 

“Fuck. You’re really good at making me want you.” 

His voice had turned grave with his want, and he never broke your gaze while he peeled off every single piece of your soaked clothing. His eyes ravished your bare skin riddled with goosebumps, and he immediately took to kissing into your shoulders and collarbones once he had access. You tried your best to help him take his clothes off too, but instead he pushed your hands away to do the task himself. Once he had finished, he connected his lips with yours. 

“Touch me.” He commanded of you. 

You found the request odd, but you still obliged him, starting by running your hands down this pecs then to his abs and around his waist where you scratched at the skin of his lower back. He did the same to you: tracing gentle fingers down your breasts, then going to kneed at them, tweaking the buds just slightly. It wasn’t for long until he encapsulated you completely into his arms, then drew a line into your spine with his ring finger. 

Your body warmed by the second: skin now set ablaze by his teeth grazing the skin of your neck. 

He drew you along with him, then turned on the water to the shower with a metallic sounding groan. Within a couple minutes the whole room filled with a dense steam. He lead you in to the small compartment, stopping too for a moment to watch the way that the water flowed down your body in little transparent veins.

“You’re perfect.” He whispered into the nape of your neck. 

The showering of water was too loud for you to hear, and it wasn’t like you were paying attention anyway. Your phone vibrated where it at fallen in your mess of clothes on the tiled floor. 

[23:27] 

jisung: what the hell’s been up with you the past few days? 

phone break or something?? 

you didn’t see the other texts I sent you? 

are you doing anything right now? 

...

are you 

ok? 

[helnjk]

Sixth Year - D.M.

Draco Malfoy x fem!reader

Platonic!Blaise Zabini x fem!reader

Requested: yes

Hey if requests are open could you do a prompt#21&50 for Draco.. Could it be a bit of angst and end with fluff? Thanks!

“all you do is make empty promises” “i’m tired of your lies”

Word Count: 2.5k

Warnings: angst, swearing

Summary: 6th year with Draco isn’t turning out how you expected it to be.

A/N: ok 1, i wanted to try writing angst (pls give comments/reviews!! i wanna know how i did) & 2, other than the request, i kind of based this off of one of my fav tiktok acct’s shifting stories aksjdhsadh you can find her here ! i love her tiktoks and she’s what got me into shifting LMAO but anyway ! let me know if you wanna be added to my taglist ! enjoy xx

THIS IS A REPOST BC I THINK TUMBLR DID ME DIRTY WITH THE TAGS

Prompts are in bold

—

Eighth. This was the eighth night you had stayed up until god knows what hour waiting for Draco to show up.

The moon was high in the sky by the time you realized he wasn’t coming yet again. The biting wind rushed past you as you tried to gather as much warmth as possible from the jacket you brought up to the Astronomy tower. Your breath came out in short puffs, white wisps trailing from your mouth out into the chilly night.

With one last glance at the midnight stained grounds, the only light emanating from the moon above, you wrapped your jacket tighter around your body and turned to make it down the stairs. It was a long trek to the Slytherin dorms, which gave your mind more time to spiral. This meant fighting back the prick of tears at the back of your eyes by the time you had reached the dungeons.

The next morning, you found yourself at the Slytherin table barely able to keep your eyes open. You hadn’t gotten much sleep, your mind refusing to stop running the different scenarios with which you imagined Draco must have gotten into causing him to forget your rescheduled plans.

“Y/N?” Blaise’s voice startled you into opening your eyes, having nodded off, leant against your palm.

“Huh?” You murmured, trying to blink the sleep from your eyes, “Sorry did you say something?”

“You alright? You look like you could just drop dead any second,” His eyes scanned yours worriedly, shifting closer to you so that you could have something to lean on.

“Gee thanks Blaise,” A sarcastic drawl came out of your lips, “Just tired. I was up late last night at the Astronomy tower waiting for Draco.”

His brows furrowed at your statement, “Draco? He got to the dorms pretty early last night. Didn’t say he had anything planned with you last night.” Eyes widened at the realization of what he said and he quickly tried to back track, “I mean-That’s not-”

Despite the distinct crack you felt in your chest, you mustered up the faintest of smiles (which probably looked more like a lopsided grimace), “It’s alright, Blaise. Thanks for letting me know.”

The rest of the day passed by you in a blur.

Everyone seemed to notice the melancholy mood that you were in, everyone except for the only person you wished would pay attention.

Being in your sixth year at Hogwarts, you were excited to spend a good chunk of it with your boyfriend. After all, there were no OWLs or NEWTs to worry about (yet), so you assumed that this year would bring more time for you to spend together.

You were wrong. Clearly.

The moment you had stepped off the Hogwarts Express in September, Draco started to spend less and less time with you. It was November now and the less time you found yourself spending with him, the more you noticed that he began to keep things from you. His eyes would shift whenever you would ask him what his plans for the day were or when you questioned who he would be with all day. He never gave you straight answers either.

“Why? What do you have planned for us today?”

“Just off brainstorming for our next date.”

“Obsessed with me, are you? You’re too cute darling.”

No matter how charming he had tried to be with his answers, you could tell something was off with him. None of the so-called plans he came up with ever came to full fruition. Often, you would find yourself waiting for him to arrive, either at the common room to take you to wherever he planned your date to be, or up in the Astronomy tower since that was where you went when you wanted to spend time, just the two of you.

Some nasty rumors had also been circulating Slytherin house. It started when someone overheard Harry Potter speaking to his friends about running into Draco right before a quidditch match, but the catch was that he was in the company of two other girls. Of course, you tried not to let these kinds of things get to you, they were just silly little rumors after all.

Still, these kinds of thoughts plagued you at night when you would go to bed not wrapped in the arms of the person you loved most.  

When you brought up these feelings with him, it had only started an argument.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Y/N.” Draco said rather harshly after you asked him about the rumors, “Are you implying that I’m cheating on you?”

“No!” You replied immediately, “I just want to know where these rumors are coming from. You’re my boyfriend, I should know what to say when people ask me about it.”

“Then tell them they should be minding their own damn business.”

You didn’t bring it up after that, afraid that if you did, it would cause an even bigger rift between you two.

By the time you had made it back to the common room, it was mostly empty. There were a couple of seventh years trying to get in some extra revising time in the corner, but they mostly left you alone. Not wanting to go up to your dorm yet, you settled on the couch next to the blazing fire instead. By some stroke of luck, Draco came stumbling inside the room as you sunk into the cushions.

“Draco!” You called out, his name slipping from your lips before you even knew you were saying anything.

His eyes registered that you were in the practically empty common room a second slower than usual, “Y/N. Hi love.”

“I missed you last night,” You admitted as he reached you.

A furrow in his brows told you that he didn’t know what you were talking about, “Come again, love?”

For the nth time, his words struck a chord deep in you. You didn’t think it was physically possible, but they added yet another crack to your already broken heart. You cleared your throat in an attempt to push down the lump that had formed, “Uh, I was waiting for you in the Astronomy tower? Because we had plans?”

As if a bucket of cold water dropped on him, his demeanour changed completely in the blink of an eye.

“Oh darling I’m so sorry,” He muttered softly, taking your face in his hands and pressing kisses all around, “I was completely knackered yesterday, I didn’t even think about anything after dinner except sleep. I’m so sorry. What can I do to make it up to you?”

Instead of the calm you usually felt being around Draco, you felt like you were at your breaking point. You couldn’t do this to yourself anymore. It was surprising to realize, that even with the added comfort of being at the receiving end of his kisses, there was still a large part of you that was tired. You couldn’t fall back into his arms after more than a dozen attempts at trying to keep the relationship afloat.

Gently, you pried his hands away from his face and took a deep breath. You could already feel the sting of unshed tears in your eyes as they locked with his, “I don’t think you can do anything to fix this.”

“What-Love, what are you talking about?”

“All you do is make empty promises, Dray.” You whispered, “And I’m tired of setting myself up for disappointment.”  

The love of your life was speechless, so you took the opportunity to stand up quickly. “I don’t understand what you’re doing or why you’re being so secretive about it, but find me when you’ve figured out if it’s worth it or not.”

Without waiting for his response, you hurriedly made your way to your dorm room and sparing no glances back in his direction.

-

A few days after your heartbreaking conversation with Draco, you still weren’t one hundred percent. It didn’t feel like you were ever going to be one hundred percent again. Your only solace was your friendship with Blaise.

For all intents and purposes, he was your best friend. Even before you had started dating Draco, the two of you were thick as thieves.

Oftentimes over the next few days, you found yourselves huddled in a corner of the common room. He would remind you to eat and to do your schoolwork as you went about your days mindlessly.

“C’mon,” He said one night, holding his hand out to you as you were cuddled up against a cushion. You merely raised your eyebrow at him, “Get up, I’ve got somewhere to take you.”

With a sigh, you pushed yourself off the couch and took his hand. It was well past curfew, but it never really bothered the pair of you. Being Slytherins made you resourceful with how you navigated the castle, the easy dynamic between the two of you enabled you to sneak through the shadows unnoticed by anyone who might have been nearby.

“Why are we going to the Astronomy tower?” You whispered as you climbed the seemingly endless staircase.

“Just thought you could use some fresh air.” He answered nonchalantly, “Feels like you’ve kept yourself cooped up in the castle this whole week.”

“That’s awful sweet of you, Zabini,” You teased, the shadow of a smile on your lips.

He shrugged as you got to the top of the tower, “Just don’t like seeing you so sad.”

Few words were exchanged between you two as you leant against the railing of the turret, taking in the view of the grounds in the dim light. The moon was full and high in the sky, and the breeze wasn’t as biting as it was the last time you were here.

Something about being up there in the clear night with Blaise was doing wonders for your aching heart. It might’ve been the fresh, crisp air, it might have been the calming presence of your best friend. You were grateful either way.

As the wind picked up, you huddled closer to Blaise’s warm body. What was it about boys being basically walking furnaces all the damn time?

“Draco’s a prat,” He murmured as he wrapped his arms around you, “I just wanted you to hear that.”

“He’s not though,” You defended weakly, “Something’s up with him, definitely, but I don’t think he’s being a dick on purpose.”

“Yeah but he’s still made you feel like shit.”

You shrugged, “And I let him.”

After a few minutes of silence, you heard the distinct sound of a door swinging open behind you. You craned your neck to see who would be up here at such a late hour when your heart stopped in your chest.

“What’s going on here?” Draco sneered, taking in the sight of you cuddled up at Blaise’s side, “Replaced me already, Y/N? Reckon he’s the reason why we’ve broken up?”

You felt Blaise tense up beside you but paid no mind when your focus was solely on the rage brewing in your chest.

“How dare you,” You seethed, “You have no right to accuse me, we weren’t even doing anything!”

He had the audacity to scoff at your retort, “Sneaking off at nearly midnight, to share a romantic night under the stars? Seems like more than just ‘nothing.’”

Before you could respond, you felt Blaise’s warm hands on your shoulders, “I’m gonna let you handle this one, love.” Blaise whispered in your ear, “He doesn’t deserve anything from you, but I feel like I’ll only make it worse if I stay.”

You nodded slightly.

“Hurt her even more than you have, Malfoy, and you’ll see just what kinds of curses I know how to cast.”

With Blaise making a quick exit and taking away your source of warmth, you crossed your arms in front of your chest and clutched the jacket you had on closer to you.

“You never had a problem with my friendship with Blaise before,” You muttered.

“Because he wasn’t all over you then!” He argued.

“We’ve always been like that and you know it.” You rolled your eyes, “Why are you even up here Draco?”

“So you own the Astronomy tower now?” He huffed, stepping next to you to lean on the railings, “I needed somewhere to think and clear my head.”

Almost as if there was no gaping chasm between the two of you, your bodies slowly inched towards each other until you were shoulder to shoulder. Almost as if the boy standing next to you hadn’t broken your heart with his secrets and his deflection tactics, his presence seemed to calm your elevated heart rate. Almost.

“Are you finally going to tell me what’s been going on with you recently?” The words that escape your mouth are no more than a whisper. You hold your breath in anticipation.

“Nothing’s been going on,” Is all he says in reply.

“Stop lying through your teeth, Draco!” You burst out, your frustrations finally getting the better of you, “I’m tired of your lies. Do you not trust me? Is that it? Because I can help you, you just have to let me in!”

“Of course I trust you! I love you for Merlin’s sake, Y/N!”

You sucked in a breath, all of your resentment seeming to escape your body, “I love you too, Draco,” You whisper, taking his warm hand in your cold ones, “But all of this sneaking around, this hiding, I don’t think I can handle not knowing what you’re up to especially when it’s affecting you this way.”

Draco took a deep shuddering breath, you could practically see the gears turning in his head. “I don’t want to lose you.”

That wasn’t what you expected him to say, “You won’t, you just need to be honest with me.”

He turned to face you, thumbs rubbing gentle circles on your hands, “I can’t tell you exactly what I’m doing,” You opened your mouth to argue but he cut you off with a look, “All I can say is that I love you and I want to protect you. What I’m doing has nothing to do with how much you mean to me, but it’s something I have to do. I just need you to be here, be with me.”

“I don’t understand,” Came your reply.

“I’m saying that I have an important job to do, and I want to be with you, but that means you’ll have to be okay with not knowing everything.”

“You’ll tell me if you need any help though, right?” You all but whispered.

“I’ll tell you if you absolutely need to know,” He nodded slightly.

“Okay,” You were still trying to wrap your head around everything that he said. It wasn’t exactly what you wanted, but it was a good compromise, “And you can’t keep blowing me off. If you want me to be here for you, then you have to do the same for me.”

“I can work with that.” A slow smile graced his pale features and you felt your heart stutter at the sight, you hadn’t seen him look so calm and at ease in a long time.

“Good.” You pressed your cheek against his chest and reveled at the comfort it brought you. He wrapped his arms around you and you could feel yourself melting into his touch.

[ditttiii]

Brothers Conflict || 02.

Thrust into an already established family, you struggle to find your footing while dodging the advances of seven, incredibly good looking stepbrothers.

Your father marrying, and you suddenly having to live under the same roof with seven step brothers was a royal mess or so you had thought, Because them falling in love with you was so much worse. Or was it?

◈ Genre: Romance, Fluff, Humour, Smut and maybe a little angst. (PG-18) (step brother AU) (They are all adopted, I do NOT support incest, this work is inspired by the popular anime/manga Brothers Conflict)

◈ Pairings: OT7 x Reader (reverse harem)

◈ CHAPTER TWO

WC: 3124

Warnings: Curse Words (sfw)

Masterlist

Want to be tagged?↪ Taglist 

Tag-list: @mel-gonzalez07​​ @favsssxx​​ @imluckybitches​​ @nomimits7​​ @alex4243​​  @calling-dips-on-j-hope​ @joonsinnerchild​​ @iconicgguk​​ @untamedfaith​​ @kaheryn​​  @nottodayjjk​​ @moments-of-melancholy @gee-nee @confusemonkey​​  @beautyyounggirl​​  @blossoming-cherrytrees​​  @seoul9711​​ @confusemonkey​​ @btsismybiass​  @toochie-too

There needs to be a limit, you think. A threshold level to how bad a day can go before it ends, or maybe you faint and are left craning into nothingness. Just something to tell you that this is as bad as it can possibly get for you. 

You hear Seokjins' concerned voice get drowned by the much louder voice of your best friend, but you don't respond. You realise that you should get up, reassure everyone that you are okay, but you are starting to wonder if you can even salvage the day anymore. 

The limit to how embarrassed I can be has hit a new high today.

Groaning and cursing every single god up there, you finally raise your face from the floor, bringing your hand up to scratch your cheeks and rub your eyes, as you purposefully avoid all the gazes that you can feel trained on you. 

Wincing you scratch at the burn you feel on your chin from where your face had hit the carpet. The fall could have been a lot worse, but the rug had saved you from the worst of the burnt. 

Saved, everything but your dignity that is. 

"I am fine," You reassure everybody without looking at anybody; before you turn to Sunmi and squeeze her hand in silent reassurance. Her concerned eyes stay trained on your hunched figure, but at your small smile, she nods, sending a small worried smile back. 

Sunmi has been your best friend since middle school. Your friendship blossomed the day she punched another girl in the school washroom for you, the girl; a bully was making fun of you for being a late bloomer, when Sunmi, your schools' resident queen-bee, swooped in like a raging goddess in all her angry glory and gave the girl a black eye. 

You still think back to that day with fondness and a slight sense of wariness. Your petite, barbie doll of a best friend could pack quite the punch. It was a reassuring yet scary skill of hers. 

Snapped out of your thoughts at the feel of a hand on your shoulder, you look up to see Seokjins’ concerned eyes peering into yours, and exhale out a heavy breath. 

Okay, now it can't get any worse. 

Maybe you shouldn't feel as reassured as you do with that thought, but you do. The realisation that you have already hit rock bottom when it comes to first impressions is, funnily enough, liberating to you. 

At least now, I don't have to worry about if the pitch of my 'hello' is right or not. 

Evidently, such frivolous solicitude was no longer a concern of yours. You have risen to higher grounds, where your first impression bar now ranges from psycho to batshit crazy.

Yep, that sounds about right. 

A cough snaps you out of your thoughts, and you quickly rise to your feet, with a little help from Sunmi. In your peripheral vision, you see Seokjin’s hands hover uselessly in the air as he stops himself from reaching out to you. Clearly, your earlier responses to his touch had left an impression on him, one that was probably not all that great, you realise. 

Wincing at both your embarrassment and the slight sting you feel, you finally swivel your gaze away from the floor and to the six men ahead of you, Seokjin still hovering worriedly by your side, like a concerned mother hen. 

If you had any dignity left, you'd have laughed, but as it is—you are probably bordering on crazy, and you don't want to push it. 

Not today. 

"Umm," You start as your eyes lock with that of one of the brothers who is looking at you with concerned filled eyes and you quickly break your gaze away. Focusing at a point on the floor somewhere by his feet, you bow low and mumble out an "Annyeonghaseyo!"

The words feel foreign on your tongue, even though your best friend is Korean. While you don't live in Korea and aren't Korean, your new extended family is. You know that they know English and originally you had no plans of speaking Korean. But nerves shot, and performance pressure high, the slightly accented greeting tumbled out before you even fully realised what you were saying. 

An awkward silence stretches on for a second too long, before the man whose feet you are drilling holes into with your gaze, is bowing and introducing himself. 

"Ah, Annyeonghaseyo! I am Kim Namjoon, the fourth oldest brother or well the middle one," Here he flashes you a quick close-lipped smile, and your eyes automatically stray to his dimples. 

‘Pretty’

While your eyes are still locked onto his dimples, utterly fascinated by their definition, he continues, "We have been waiting for you, it's a pleasure, to finally meet you Y/N-ssi!" His smile widens as he finishes his greeting, and you want to reply, but your eyes are, again, focused onto his dimples.

'So pretty.' 

It's when Sunmi pinches your side subtly that you clear your thoughts, moving your gaze away as you smile back—a soft, genuine curl of your lips. 

"Um, sorry I'm late, there was some traffic," Here you wave your hand in the air aimlessly before you realise what you are doing and force it down, biting your lip. "This is my best friend Sunmi, and um it's really nice, to finally be able to meet you all too!" You finish lamely. Your introduction, a mess of stutters and random flailing limbs, leaves your face feeling hotter by the second. 

"Finally! We have been waiting to meet our cute little yeodongsaengie all day! I am Jung Hoseok, the third oldest and welcome to the family Y/n-ah!" Greets Hoseok, a bright megawatt smile overtaking his face, as he swoops in and gathers you in a hug. This time though you are ready and without a seconds delay, your hands wrap around Hoseok's back, as you awkwardly pat, unsure of his boundaries. 

Hoseok though has no such concern, as his strong, warm hands wrap affectionately around your shoulders, pulling you closer and giving you a proper bear hug. Somehow it doesn't come as a surprise to you that Hoseok would be affectionate, something about his bright smile and sunny disposition had you feeling more comforted and reassured than awkward. 

Surrounded by your now brother's warmth, you melt in his arms and for once enjoy the feeling of belonging in someone else's hold except Sunmis’. 

"Did you have any problems coming here? I knew one of us should have come to pick you up instead." Hoseok continues, his eyes soft and concerned as they rake over you, keeping you at arm's length, as he checks you for any injuries, and a laugh almost slips out of you at his over the top concern. 

"I am fine Hoseok ss—" You pause, hesitant to continue as you think of what you should address him as before you try again, "Hoseok-oppa?"

Your voice comes out soft, questioning and a little hesitant as you look up at Hoseok to see his reaction, but he's grinning. His smile somehow even brighter than it had been before, and then he's pulling you into another hug. 

His arms wrapping around your shoulders and softly rocking you from side to side as he coos, "Aish, call me Hobi-oppa, Y/n-ah! That's what all the dongsaengies call me!"

You giggle as your limited Korean knowledge kicks in and you realise he's talking about his younger brothers. A groan echoed from behind him and in response a laugh booms out of Hoseok, as he finally loosens his hold. 

Wrapping his arm around your shoulders, he turns to Sunmi, and again introduces himself, Sunmi doing the same. 

You watch the interaction with an unfamiliar almost, warm, feeling in your chest. Usually, it would be you introducing yourself to Sunmis' family at Christmas or family vacations for which you'd tag along; and your father was never really home enough to ever meet Sunmi. 

So, to finally have someone call you family in front of your best friend, was a simple but strangely comforting thing, and you grin, feeling rapidly more at ease in your brothers embrace. 

"Aish Hob-ah! Stop hogging our little yeodongsaeng, will you?" Jin jokingly reprimands, and you chuckle, your grip around Hoseok tightening as you lean into his side. 

"Well, it's only fitting; I am going to be her favourite oppa, after all!" He jokes as his head tilts to look at you and he winks. His soft black hair slips low over his forehead, as his shimmery dark eyes sparkle from in between the gaps of his strands. And you smile softly, shaking your head fondly at his antics before you extract yourself from his embrace and move to introduce yourself to the rest of your stepbrothers. 

"Min Yoongi, second oldest, Welcome to the family Y/n." You smile and nod, a small 'Thank you oppa,' slipping out as you shake Yoongi's hand. His palm is soft, and a little cold against yours, and your smile widens at the small grin he gives you, blonde locks messy and rumpled as he runs his hand through them. 

Turning to look at the other three men in the room, you smile and bow as you greet them too. Your eyes rise when one of them steps forward, bowing to you, his cotton candy pink hair catching the light of the room and shining bright. But what gets your attention is his smile. Full lips curled into quite possibly the sweetest smile you have ever seen in your life, as his eyes turn into two crescent moons. 

"Nice to finally meet you, little sister, I am Park Jimin the hyung of the maknaes'" He winks before continuing, "and the fifth oldest one. We have been waiting to meet you for a while now. Glad to have you be a part of our not so little family! It might be a bit overwhelming at times, but know that we are all delighted to have you here." He grins, and you let out a chuckle yourself, comforted and appreciative of his efforts at trying to make you feel more at ease. 

"Thank you for welcoming me!I..uh am not the best at first impressions, but I promise I am not always such a clutz." You quip back and watch surprised, as Jimin throws his head back, eyes crinkling into those crescent moons again, as a laugh tumbles out of him. His hands rest on his chest, as he hunches over laughing and you smile, your gaze travelling to his palms and a snort slipping out when you realise his hands much like the rest of him are exceptionally pretty and delicate. 

You aren't usually very self-conscious, but surrounded by so many ridiculously attractive people, the insecurity was starting to creep in.

Blessed men. 

Shifting your gaze to the last two brothers, you smile, bowing a little as you greet them, but when only silence greets you back, your raise your head, eyes furrowed as you look up to see the last two of your seven step brothers looking at you with disinterest and maybe the slightest bit disdain?

A little more hesitant now, you smile at them again, but receive back even more silence. 

An awkward silence stretches on for a while, as you take in their appearance. You already know the names of the youngest two, had painstakingly learned then a week ago when your father had informed you that you'd have to move in with your extended family. 

Kim Taehyung, the one with crystal-like cerulean eyes and platinum blonde hair, that was almost silver. Long, messy strands that reached low and covered almost his entire eyes. His face so perfectly chiselled, it was like the gods personally took their time sculpting it, not a single flaw or blemish on his pale, smooth skin. 

In any other situation, you'd have gaped and taken your time appreciating the fineness that was his face, but since those crystal blue eyes of his were glaring angry holes into your forehead, you decide not to. 

Next time. 

Snapping your eyes away from Taehyung; your gaze falls onto the last brother, Jeon Jungkook, the youngest in the family, at least before you came along. 

For someone who was only a year older than you, his build was impressively large. Even from under the oversized loose tee he was wearing; you could see his broad shoulders. The t-shirt hugged his pectoral muscles before it loosened over the abbs. Jungkooks, from what you could only assume, abdomen was coiled and defined under the loose shirt he was wearing. 

After a few more seconds of awkward silence during which you see Jimin hiss and glare at the duo from the side, you snap back to your senses. Clearing your throat, you twist onto your heels as you look back at Jimin, who stops mid hiss when your eyes catch his before he pushes his signature bright smile your way. 

The smile you give him is a little shaky, your awkwardness from before coming back in full force, in response to the two youngest giving you the cold shoulder. 

You aren't surprised though; you were expecting some sort of resistance. When your father had pretty much ordered you to move into your new 'mothers' house, you were pretty pissed too. You had then thrown a tantrum, screaming and crying about how unfair he was being. That even as your father, he had no right to uproot your life like that, but no matter what you said he didn't budge. 

His decision was final, and so cursing and screaming, a week later here you are, trying your best to be the ideal sister your father expects you to be, as you attempt to accept these seven strangers as your family.

'Life just doesn't give me a break, does it?' You think wryly, letting out a soft sigh when you feel the glares against the sides of your face darken. 

Okay then, act like a bunch of pouty little brats, see if I care. 

Rolling your eyes at the immaturity, your two older brothers were currently showcasing, you move back to Sunmi who was now talking to Namjoon. 

"Your boxes were delivered a few hours ago, we've moved them all up to your room, but we haven't unpacked any. Would you like help with the unpacking? I have to leave for court now, but a few of us are free today, and we'd be more than happy to help." Namjoon offers, his dimpled smile again on full display, and if you were any more juvenile, you'd have called it a personal attack. 

Pretty 2x.

Feeling the glares at your back not letting up, you just shake your head. You have a feeling Namjoon is talking about the two overgrown babies who are currently wishing death upon you, but you'd rather have the boxes fall and slowly suffocate you to your demise than have them help.

"It's fine; I can do it. Thank you for sending the boxes up to my room though!" You reply, and Namjoon just ruffles your hair in response. Squealing you try to move away from his reach and groan, fixing your now rats nest of hair. 

Chuckling at your apparently hilarious antics Namjoon nods and calls Jimin over, asking him to escort you and Sunmi to your room. You figure since it's still early on in the day, most of them have their jobs to attend to, and will probably take their time to socialise with you later. 

You don't mind, the more time you have to get your shit together, the better. 

Waving goodbye to Namjoon and everybody else, You, Sunmi and Jimin make your way to the stairs. Why you can't just use the elevator like before, you don't know, but considering it has been less than an hour since you have joined your new family, you don't bother complaining. 

Too soon. 

Much like downstairs, the interior of the floor above was simplistic. Metallic, with lots of glassed walls and plenty of potted plants. 

'Someone in this family is obsessed with plants.' You think amused as your gaze travels to all the different types of plants around you. Some of them, you think, look too green and fancy to be real. 

The marble staircase is wide and curved, and once you reach the end, you turn back to look down and raise a brow, impressed, at how high the floor was. 

Fancy indeed. 

"This floor is where most of the rooms are, only Namjoon-hyung and Yoongi-hyung live on the floor below," Jimin explains, as he leads you to where you assume your room is. 

Passing by different doors on your way, you wonder whose room is which. You'll figure it out later you know, but you just hope none of the younger brothers are near you. 

'Except Jimin, he's nice.' You decide as you follow his lean figure. 

Pink, a colour you think would look absurd or emo on anyone else, looks bright somehow fitting, on your brother's head, and you watch entranced as his soft silky strands bounce with every step he takes. 

'What is with these people and their genetics?'

It's that thought that leads you to an epiphany. You almost stop in your tracks but stumble forward when Sunmi nudges you from behind. 

Earlier you were too nervous and wired, terrified of somehow messing up and offending your entire new family and so you hadn't given it much thought. But thinking back, you realise there was something weird about how they all introduced themselves. 

Min, Jung, Jeon. 

Their last names were different. You don't understand how you hadn't noticed it before when you had learned all their names, but you blame your anger and stupidity for the oversight. 

'Kim Young-Soon', your step-mother, and the woman you currently hated with all of your being. 

However, what you hadn't realised before but now do was how only Seokjin, Namjoon, and Taehyung, had the same last name, 'Kim' as their mother. 

'What the heck is up with this family?' 

More confused than anything else by your realisation, you continue to follow Jimin blindly. His voice fading into the background, as your eyes track his movements, the way his full lips curl when he smiled, and your suspicion only grows. 

There was something your new family wasn’t telling you, and you were going to find out just what it was. 

At least now I have something to do besides stressing out over suddenly having seven brothers, two of whom would set me on fire if given a chance.

Nodding, you decide you are going to have to do some interrogation tonight. 

A/N: If you like my work, leave me your feedback, even if its just a single word, it leaves me feeling immensely happy. 

I updated in less than a week! Heh, clearly my stir craziness is achieving new heights. Oh well, more content for y’all so yeeehawww 🥴