#and i can't wait to see what you have in mind

[woso-dreamzzz]

Play, Sleep, Repeat

Arsenal Women x Teen!Reader

Summary: You're Katie's cousin

Katie has never quite understood you.

You'd always been on the fringes of her awareness.

She has all her siblings. Her close family is big. Her extended family is even bigger.

You're her cousin, on her mother's side.

She'd never really kept up with your life. She'd see you at family reunions maybe once, twice a year and it would all be a quick conversation before she moved on.

She'd never been close enough to her uncle, your dad, to really know what was going on the two of your lives. All she really remembers was that his wife (your mother) had left him and he was a single dad.

It was surprising to see the Arsenal announcement photo with you smiling at the camera, a big Ireland flag draped over your shoulders.

It should have made her feel bad that you didn't drop a text to say you were signing but Katie didn't even know you played football until the announcement so she decided that she didn't really have room to have her feelings hurt over it.

She had hoped this would be the opportunity for you both to grow closer but, as she looks at you now, horsing down your lunch, she kind of thought that was a pipe dream.

You get up immediately after finishing, avoiding the table with the other younger players and heading back out onto the pitch.

It was like clockwork with you. You were either crashed out asleep in the break room, eating like you'd been starved or practicing for hours before or after training.

"What's up with your cousin, McCabe?" Leah asks, watching you leave as well," She never hangs around."

Katie shrugs. "I dunno. She's always been like that, I think."

"You think?"

"She's being raised by her Da. I guess she's never been around this many girls in her life."

"Surely she played on a girl's team before coming here."

Katie shrugs again.

"You don't know?"

"I've got a big family, Williamson. I hardly see her back home. Sue me for not stalking her every move."

Kim slides into the seat next to her. "I'm worried about her," She says," She's always here early and she stays late too. I've never seen her Dad pick her up."

"So what? She's a big girl."

Kim raises a brow. "I wasn't worried because she promised me that you've been dropping her off."

"What? She told me Kyra was doing that."

Kim sighs. "I got her address off Jonas. Do you and Caitlin mind popping by tonight? I'd do it myself but she might respond better to you."

Katie stands at your door a few hours after training has finished. She'd been waiting in her car for a while now, unable to believe her eyes when you'd stepped off the bus barely ten minutes ago still in your training kit.

Her hand hovers over the door, unmoving.

Caitlin nudges her to the side, pressing the doorbell.

"Hey," She says when you open it," Can we come in?"

Your eyes dart to the side. "Er..."

"Is your Da in? I need to talk to him."

"Da's busy," You say.

"That's okay. We can wait." Katie barges in and Caitlin follows her before you can stop them.

"How long will he be?" Caitlin asks and your eyes dart to the door.

"Well..."

"Have you had dinner yet?" Katie asks," 'Cause your fridge is bare."

"Stop it!" You say, pushing her out of your kitchen," Stop snooping!"

"Are these takeout boxes?"

"Katie, I mean it! Out!"

"Nah, where's your Da? Surely, he can't be letting you eat all this crap."

You mumble a response that Katie forces you to repeat. A response that gets regurgitated to every responsible adult on the team.

Your Da didn't come with you to England. In fact, your Da hadn't even be to one of your Arsenal matches.

"He'll come when I make it into the Ireland squad," You'd told Katie and Caitlin," He promised."

The team keeps a close eye on you. Your back prickles with awareness and every time you look behind you, someone is watching.

Things change as well, slowly but surely. It's enough to put you on edge.

It starts with Caitlin and Katie driving you to practice. You usually leave hours ahead of when training starts so you can get the bus and still have time to practice before it begins.

(Maybe if you have a bit extra training then Gleeson will have no choice but to call you up for the next international break).

You have no idea how long they've been camping in their car because you get up stupidly early.

They bundle you in with them. They grab breakfast at a quaint place in town before getting you to training on time.

Next comes Kim. She sits with you at lunch and talks to you enough that you finish the same time as everyone else.

Leah helps you with your kit.

Lia sits with you on the bus.

Lessi, Vic and Kyra splash you with water during the changeover at training.

Beth lets you nap against her and Viv makes sure you have a protein shake ready for you when you wake up.

Slowly but surely, you're folded into the team that is Arsenal. You existed on the fringes of life in London, focused on nothing but finally having your father support you in football.

Now though, you have the team to celebrate your goals with. You have Katie shaking you with joy when you score the last minute winner against Everton.

You also have the text from your Da nitpicking your every move in the match.

You feel lucky that he even kept the match on with how shit you were apparently making. A few months ago, you would have gone back to your own habits. A few months ago, you would have ran until your legs gave out.

But it's no longer a few months ago.

So, you just put your phone away and let Steph ruffle your hair on the way back to her seat.

You're actually part of the team now. A key part of the team if you go off how many times you've started a match.

A key part of the time if you go by how you seamlessly tackle Cuthbert and send the ball rolling straight to Caitlin to collect. You're about to stand up but Cuthbert can't stay on her feet and she stumbles, falling with a sickening crunch onto your ankle.

The scream you let out is guttural and you push her off you to grab at your ankle, as if touching it would suddenly make it feel better.

You slap the ground with your fist and scream again. Leah comes sliding in next to you, pinning your ankle to the ground with a firm hand.

"I know," She says," I know but we need to keep it still. Just stay still."

"Leah," You sob," It hurts!"

"I know," She repeats," The physios are coming straight on. Just keep it still."

Katie comes running to you next, tucking your face into her chest as you sob, shielding you from the fans.

Caitlin has taken her job at yelling at the ref, desperate to get some kind of compensation even if it was all a complete reaction.

"I...I..." You manage to get out through your tears," I don't think Gleeson's going to call me up for the break."

Lia, who had gently removed your cleat, laughs. "You don't need to focus on that right now." She peals your sock down. "But it's nice that you've still got your sense of humour."

You hiss as someone else touches your ankle.

"Hey!" Katie snaps," Careful with her!" She turns back to you. "Can you walk?"

"I don't even think I can stand up."

"You're going to be okay," She says as the stretcher is brought on," They'll fit you with a boot and you'll come back to mine."

You groan. "God, not your place."

"What's wrong with my mine?!"

"You can't cook! Can I go to Kim's instead?"

"I think I preferred it when we didn't talk."

You grin. "Didn't your Ma ever tell you lying's bad?"

#woso x reader #arsenal wfc x reader #arsenal x reader #arsenal wfc #woso community #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso

[charlieleclerc16]

Lost and Found*

Summary: Charles and Y/N have been best friends since they were little kids but they lost track of each other over time. When Charles is in town for his home race they finally reunite and their meeting is sweeter than ever.

Pairing: Bestie!Charles x You

Word count: 4.4K

Warnings: Smut, fluff, cute. There might be some unprotected action in there, I'm sorry.

It's been a very long time since you last saw your best friend. It has been years, which is a shame, but there were reasons. The biggest reason was that he was travelling all over the world for the World Drivers' Championship, and that caused his schedule to be incredibly full. There is also the fact that, because he is rarely home to begin with, you don’t get many chances to see him.

Charles always tries to keep in touch, even with the crazy life he leads. But that might mean only brief texts and the occasional phone call. Sometimes not even those. The last time you heard from him was six months ago when he called to ask how your family was doing. He sounded so tired but excited. You talked for an hour, and it was almost like the last years hadn't happened.

With the new season starting up and him being back on the road, you decided to contact Pascale and see if she could get you in for the Monaco GP. This is an amazing opportunity for you to finally see your best friend and to surprise him with your presence.

The excitement about race day has been building up inside of you ever since you decided to do this. You know you can't expect much attention from Charles after the race, but you're looking forward to seeing him and getting to see him drive. You haven't seen him in person in two years.

You take a shower and then put on the black top and red high-waisted jeans that you have planned to wear to the grid, gotta support Ferrari. When you get into the kitchen, you realise that you are too nervous and excited to eat, so you settle for a banana. You check the time and are happy to notice that you still have some time left to spare, so you go into the living room and switch on the television.

There are no good shows on, so you switch to the music channels and find one that is showing a rerun of an interview Charles did a couple of years ago. The whole country, how small it may be, always turns into full mayhem when it’s raceweek. You smile as you watch him talk. Even after all these years, it's still the same Charlie. He's still your Charlie. You feel a pang in your heart when he smiles his cheeky grin at the interviewer, and you realise just how much you miss him.

As if reading your mind, your phone vibrates on the coffee table. You reach for it and see Charles' caller ID on the screen. You pick up and bring the phone to your ear.

"Charles?"

"Hi, baby!" He sounds excited. "Did I call at a good time? Are you busy?"

"No, I'm not. I was just watching TV." She decides to not tell him that she is going to see him in a couple of hours.

"Oh, what are you watching?"

"Um, an interview. It's not important. What are you doing? Shouldn't you be getting ready for the race?"

"I have a free half hour, and I'm hiding, so nobody can find me. I really needed to talk to you, and I couldn't wait anymore."

"Why did you need to talk to me? Is something wrong?"

"No, it's nothing like that. You're coming to the track today, aren't you?"

Your eyes grow wide and your stomach somersaults. How did he know? Did his mother give something away?

"How...how did you know?" You finally manage to say.

"I'm not stupid, Y/N. I know how you talk when you're nervous and when you're not. When I talked to you about my home race last week, your voice didn't sound like usual. You sounded nervous, and it was pretty obvious that you were going." He laughs on the phone.

"Wow, I'm not very subtle, am I?" You feel stupid.

"You really aren't." His voice sounds warm and inviting, and you feel a shiver running down your spine.

"So, why did you want to call me, if it wasn't to tell me not to come?"

"Oh, I would never tell you not to come. I really want you to be there today."

"But… Don’t you have a very busy schedule? You probably won't even have time to see me."

"Don't worry, baby. I will definitely see you. If I don't, you should find the backstage area and tell them to let you in. I already told the security team your name. They'll let you in."

"Really? Charles, you're crazy. You have a race to prepare for. You shouldn't let random fans into your private space."

"But you're not a random fan. You're Y/N."

"I'm glad that you still think of me like that, even though we haven't seen each other in a while."

"What do you mean?" Charles sounds confused. "Of course, I still think of you as my best friend. Nothing can change that."

You feel a lump forming in your throat. You don't want to cry, not now. Charles means the world to you, and he will never know. You are not the kind of girl who confesses her love to crushes, not even when they are her best friends.

"Y/N, are you still there?"

"Yeah, I'm still here. I was just thinking about something."

"Well, stop thinking. We're going to see each other in a couple of hours." He is smiling; you can hear it in his voice.

***

When you enter the city centre, the excitement inside of you is unbearable. The atmosphere is incredible, and the streets are so crowded and so full of life and happiness. Everyone is happy to be here, and so are you.

You find your way to the Paddock Club, which thankfully Pascale got you an access pass to because you would’ve never been able to afford this. As you wait for the race to start, you keep looking around trying to find familiar faces and wondering what Charles is doing right now.

The sun was shining brilliantly over Monte Carlo, its rays dancing off the azure waters of the Mediterranean as one of the most anticipated events of the year, the Monaco Grand Prix, is about to begin. Your heart is racing almost as fast as the cars that would soon tear through the narrow, winding streets.

Charles was starting from P1. Your Charles, the pride of Monaco. His Ferrari sat poised and ready, a crimson beast waiting to be unleashed. As you watch the big screen showing the last preparations for the race, you can’t help but feel a swell of emotion. You are already so proud of him.

Soon the camera pans over the cars lined up at the starting line showing the drivers walking to their vehicles. He climbs into the car, and the mechanics begin their final checks. The roar of the engines filled the air, a symphony of power and precision. The grid is set, and the lights above the starting line begin their countdown.

Red. Red. Red. Green.

The cars surge forward, a blur of colour and sound. Charles holds his position, deftly navigating the treacherous streets with the skill and grace of a dancer. Every corner, every straight, he is in perfect harmony with his car.

From the paddock, you watch every moment with bated breath. Your fingers are crossed, your heart lodged in your throat. Lap after lap, he maintains his lead, his driving a masterclass of control and speed. The crowds roar, the tension palpable as the race unfolds.

As the laps dwindle down, you find yourself almost unable to watch. He is so close, so close to his biggest dream. The pit stops have gone flawlessly, the strategy executed to perfection. But Monaco was a track where anything can happen, and the slightest mistake can spell disaster.

Then, with a grace that seems almost effortless, Charles navigates the final corner and speeds down the straight towards the finish line. The checkered flag waves and the crowd erupts into a frenzy. He has done it. He won the Monaco Grand Prix.

Tears of joy stream down your face as you watch him cross the finish line, arms raised in triumph. The team explodes into celebration around you, but all you can see is Charles. He climbs out of the car, drenched in sweat and triumph, and your eyes meet across the chaos.

His gaze pierces through you, sending a shiver down your spine. And then, he smiles. That dazzling smile that has captured the hearts of millions. And in that moment, you know that your heart belongs to him, forever.

***

It's been hours since the race ended. After all the interviews, the podium, the celebration, Charles was finally able to get some free time for himself. His eyes are roaming the room, looking for a familiar face, but he can't find you anywhere. Maybe you left without saying goodbye. He feels disappointed. He wanted to see you and to hug you.

The door opens and someone enters the room. Charles doesn't bother to look up. He is too busy feeling sorry for himself. But then your voice is what catches his attention. "Hi, stranger."

He looks up, and there you are, standing in the doorway. He is not dreaming. You are here, in Monaco, and he has just won the race. Life couldn't get any better than this.

"Hi, Y/N." He stands up and walks towards you.

You are speechless. Seeing him winning the race made you so emotional that you had tears in your eyes. Now, standing in front of him, all those feelings come rushing back. "Congratulations on your win. I'm so proud of you." You say as he pulls you in a tight hug. His strong arms wrap around you, pulling you close. You close your eyes and breathe him in, his familiar scent surrounding you.

"Thank you. I'm so happy that you're here." His voice is muffled against your hair.

You pull back slightly, looking up into his warm, brown eyes. There is something in the way he is looking at you that makes your heart race. You have never felt more alive, more connected, than in this moment. You feel as if he can see into your very soul, and the intensity of his gaze takes your breath away.

"Me too." You say softly, your voice barely a whisper. He leans in closer, his lips just a breath away from yours. Your heart is hammering in your chest, and you feel a shiver run down your spine. You close your eyes and allow yourself to fall into the moment.

Just as you're about to kiss him, he pulls back with a chuckle as if he only now realises that you are in a room full of people. You look around and see his family and the Ferrari employees as well as the security guards who are probably watching the two of you like hawks.

"I'm sorry. I didn't realise..." He begins, his cheeks flushed.

"It's okay." You say, taking a step back and running a hand through your hair. "I didn't realise either."

The room falls silent, and you can't help but wonder if everyone heard your exchange. You feel your face flush, and you turn away, avoiding Charles' gaze.

"We should go somewhere more private." He whispers in your ear, making you blush. You nod and follow him out of the room. The security guards let the two of you pass, and Charles leads you down a quiet hallway. You follow him in silence, your mind racing. You can't believe what just happened.

When you reach a secluded area, Charles turns to face you, a sheepish grin on his face. "I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable back there."

"You didn't. I just...I was surprised."

"Good surprised or bad surprised?" He looks nervous, and it makes you smile.

"Good surprised. Very good."

"I'm glad." He reaches out and takes your hand, his fingers intertwining with yours as you continue to make your way outside. "I've missed you so much, Y/N."

You smile up at him, feeling your heart swell with emotion. "I've missed you too, Charlie. More than you can imagine."

As you step out into the warm Monaco air, you can't help but think how lucky you are to be here, with him. He is the best friend anyone could ever have, and you feel honoured that he considers you his best friend. You squeeze his hand, and he squeezes yours in return. You know that, whatever happens next, you will always have each other.

Charles brings the two of you to a halt next to where his bicycle is stalled. "I totally forgot I came here by bike." He says, shaking his head. "Do you wanna come with me, or do you prefer to take a taxi?"

"No, no. I'll come with you." You don't want to spend a single minute away from him.

He smiles at you and nods. He climbs on the bike and motions for you to sit on the top tube as his bike doesn't have a rear rack. You hop on the top tube and wrap your arms around his handlebar for balance. "Jesus Christ, this feels dangerous."

"Just trust me." He says, a twinkle in his eye as he closes his arms around you to grab a hold of the handlebars.

"You sure we'll both fit on the bike?" You ask nervously.

"Of course, we'll fit. Come on." He starts pedalling and soon the two of you are zipping through the streets of Monaco, the sun setting in the distance.

You lean against him, feeling the warmth of his body, and you close your eyes. For the first time in years, you feel completely and utterly content. As the two of you ride through the streets of Monaco, his arms basically wrapped around you, you can't help but think that this is what happiness feels like.

"Charlie, where are we going?"

"Home." He says it so casually as if it's obvious that you belong there too.

You stay silent for the rest of the journey. You just want to enjoy the moment, savour the feeling of his body against yours. When you finally arrive at his apartment, the sun has almost disappeared from the horizon, leaving behind a pink and orange sky.

"Here we are." Charles says as he helps you off the bike. You can't help but notice how his hand lingers on yours, the contact sending a shiver down your spine. After a brief loss of contact to lock his bike, his fingers intertwine with yours and he guides you inside the apartment complex.

The elevator ride is silent, but it's not awkward. It's a comfortable silence, the kind you only share with your best friend. When the elevator doors open, Charles leads you down the hallway to his apartment, his hand still holding yours.

When he unlocks the door and ushers you inside, the first thing you notice is how big the apartment is. It's luxurious, just like he is, and you can't help but be a little jealous. He leads you into the kitchen, which is modern and well-equipped. "Make yourself at home. Do you want something to drink?"

"Just some water, please." You say, your mouth suddenly dry. He nods and busies himself at the sink. You take the opportunity to look around, taking in the sleek furniture and artwork adorning the walls.

When Charles returns with the glass of water, he can't help but notice the awe on your face. "What is it?"

"It's just...this place is so fancy. It's amazing."

He smiles, clearly pleased with your reaction. "Well, I'm glad you like it. Maybe I could give you a tour later."

"That would be great." You can't hide the excitement in your voice. You take the glass of water from him and sip it slowly, trying to calm your racing heart.

Charles walks over to the living room and you follow him like a lost puppy. It's when your eyes fall on the black grand piano that you gasp. "Wow, you have a grand piano!"

He turns around, a grin on his face. "Yeah, I love to play the piano. It's a good way to relax after a long day."

"Can you play me something?" You ask, unable to hide your excitement.

"Sure. What do you want me to play?"

"Anything. Surprise me." You say, smiling at him.

He walks over to the piano and sits down on the stool before he pats the empty space beside him. "Come, sit next to me."

You make your way over to him and sit down, feeling a little nervous. He begins to play, his fingers dancing across the keys. The melody is beautiful and melancholic, and it sends a shiver down your spine. You're completely mesmerised by him, by the way his fingers move so gracefully, by the look of concentration on his face.

As the music swells around you, you feel a sense of calmness washing over you. This is what you've been missing, what you've needed all this time. You lean your head on his shoulder and close your eyes, allowing yourself to get lost in the music.

"What is this song called?" You ask, your eyes still closed.

"I don't know." He whispers. "I made it up."

"You're so talented, Charles." You say, unable to hide the admiration in your voice.

He turns his head slightly and his lips brush against your forehead. "Thank you."

You open your eyes and look at him, the emotion in his eyes mirroring your own. You can't help but feel as if the world has stopped spinning and that it's only the two of you in the universe, in this moment.

He leans closer, his lips ghosting over yours. "Y/N, can I kiss you?"

You nod, unable to speak, and he closes the distance between you. The world around you fades into nothingness as his lips brush against yours. It's soft at first, tentative as if testing the waters of this new, uncharted territory. The kiss deepens, becoming more passionate, more urgent. His hands move to your waist, pulling you closer, and you respond in kind, your fingers tangling in his hair.

The taste of him is intoxicating, a blend of familiarity and excitement. You can feel the years of friendship and unspoken longing in every touch, every movement. It's as if the floodgates have finally opened, and all the emotions you had both kept hidden come rushing out.

When you finally pull away, both of you are breathless, your foreheads rest against each other’s. The room is silent except for the sound of your rapid breathing and the faint echo of the last note Charles had played.

"That was..." You begin, searching for the right word.

"Yeah." Charles smiles, a blush rising to his cheeks. "That was incredible."

You laugh softly, leaning into him and resting your head on his shoulder. He wraps his arm around your waist and holds you close, the warmth of his body soothing you. You sit there in silence for a while, enjoying the feeling of being close to each other.

"Hey, are you tired?" he asks.

"No, just relaxed."

"Okay. Well, I have a question for you."

"Ask away."

"Why didn't you ever tell me?"

"Tell you what?"

"That you love me."

Your eyes fly open, and your heart stops. He is looking at you, his expression serious. You swallow hard and try to think of an answer. But your brain doesn't cooperate, and you can't speak.

"W-what are you talking about?" You stutter.

"I'm talking about the fact that you are in love with me."

"No, I'm not. Why would you think that?"

"Because it's obvious."

"Oh."

"You look shocked whenever I flirt with you and after that so happy. It's the same look I have when I'm thinking about you." You can't believe what he is saying. Does he really mean it? Or is he just playing with your emotions? "Why didn't you ever tell me? Because of my job?"

"No, it's not that. I just...I didn't want to ruin our friendship. You're the most important person in my life, and I didn't want to lose you."

"Oh, baby. You will never lose me."

"Promise?"

"Promise." 

He cups your face with his hands and leans in again. Your eyes flutter closed, and his lips touch yours. The kiss is slow and gentle. His lips are soft and taste like mint. You feel a tingle in your stomach, and you can't help but sigh. His tongue darts out and caresses your lips. You open your mouth, and he slips his tongue inside. Your tongues tangle together, and the kiss becomes more passionate. When you finally pull apart again, you are breathing heavily. He smiles and strokes your cheek.

"You are so beautiful, Y/N. You know that, right?"

"Charles..."

"No, it's true. And you deserve to be told how beautiful you are every day."

"Oh, Charles."

He pulls you into his arms and kisses your temple. You lean against his chest and breathe in his scent. It feels so right to be here with him. After all these years, you finally feel like you belong.

"What are you thinking about?" He asks.

"About the fact that I don't wanna go home."

"Who said you have to?"

"What do you mean?"

"Stay with me tonight."

"Really?"

"Yes. Stay the night. I don't want you to leave."

"Okay."

He stands up and takes your hand. You follow him down the hallway and into his bedroom before he sits you down on the bed. He sits down next to you and strokes your cheek. You look into his eyes and see the same desire that you feel. You lean in and kiss him. His lips are warm and soft, and his tongue feels amazing. Your body is tingling, and you can't get enough. You wrap your arms around his neck and deepen the kiss. He pulls you closer and kisses you passionately. Your bodies are pressed together, and you can feel his arousal. You moan and rub your body against his. He breaks the kiss and looks at you. His eyes are dark with lust, and his pupils are dilated.

"Mhm, Y/N. You're driving me crazy." He pulls you into his lap and kisses you again. His hands roam your body, and you arch your back. He slips his hand under your shirt and cups your breast. You gasp and close your eyes. He squeezes your breast and rolls your nipple between his fingers.

"Oh God." You moan.

"Do you like that?"

"Yes. It feels so good."

He keeps massaging your breasts while kissing your neck. You grind your hips against him, and he groans. You can feel his erection, and it turns you on even more. He moves his hand to your other breast and starts massaging it.

He pushes you onto the bed and gets on top of you. His hands move under your shirt, and he pulls it off. You arch your back and expose your breasts. He licks his lips and leans down to kiss your nipples. He sucks on one and flicks his tongue over the other. You moan and dig your nails into his back.

He moves his hand down to your pants and starts undoing the button. He pulls them down, along with your panties, and tosses them aside. He looks at your naked body and smiles.

"You're so beautiful."

He leans down and kisses you. His tongue darts out, and he runs it over your lips. You part your lips and let him inside. He explores your mouth and moans.

"Mhm, I want you."

"Then take me." You say.

He pulls his shirt off and throws it aside. He undoes his pants and pushes them down. He kneels between your legs and looks at you. You can see his erection through his boxers. You bite your lip and reach out. You run your hand over his bulge and feel the heat. He groans and closes his eyes.

"Y/N."

"Yes?"

"I want you so bad."

"Then take me."

He quickly pulls his boxers down before he grabs your hips and pushes you further onto the bed. He lies down on top of you and kisses you. His erection rubs against your core, making you gasp.

"God, you're so wet." He moves his hand between your legs and strokes your clit. You moan and buck your hips. He positions his cock at your entrance and pushes in. You gasp and close your eyes. His cock fills you up completely, and you feel complete.

He starts moving slowly, and you cling to him. He kisses you deeply and groans. He moves faster, and you cry out. You wrap your legs around his waist and arch your back.

"Yes, Charles. Right there. Please."

He pounds into you harder, and you feel yourself approaching the edge. You never had sex that felt this right.

"I'm gonna come."

"Come for me, baby."

You scream his name and climax. Your body trembles, and you shudder. He moans and buries his face in your neck. You feel his release, and he collapses on top of you.

"God, Y/N. That was amazing."

"It was."

He rolls off of you and pulls you into his arms. You snuggle against his chest, and he kisses your forehead.

"So, this is where we've been heading since day one, huh?" You chuckle.

"Well, yeah. I just didn't expect it to take twenty years."

"Yeah, me neither."

"And I also thought we'd be more cautious about it." Charles laughs realising he completely forgot to use a condom.

"I don't know, I just didn't care."

"Yeah, me neither."

You kiss his cheek and rest your head on his chest.

"Charles?"

"Hm?"

"Will we be able to make this work? I mean, with our lives and everything?"

"We'll figure it out. I'm not letting you go."

"Good."

You close your eyes and listen to his heartbeat. He is holding you tight, and you can't imagine being anywhere else. You kiss his chest and slowly drift off to sleep in his arms.

#charles leclerc #lec #leclerc #charles #smut #fanfiction #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc x female reader #charles leclerc x female oc #one shot #fanfic #imagine #best friends #charles x you #charles x reader #charles leclerc smut #formula 1 #formula one #f1 #f1 fanfic #f1 smut #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc fic #formula 1 smut #formula 1 imagine #formula one imagine #formula one fanfiction

[youryanderedaddy]

tw: female reader, non - con, kidnapping, fdom (technically), m!sub to m!dom

When you get taken off the streets by a rich, cruel woman with dubious morals and rough, roaming hands (and lips), you don't expect to have to fight against her old beloved pet for her attention. You don't even want to be here, but the man, awfully possessive of his oh-so-generous owner, doesn't seem to understand that. So he pushes you around and snitches on every single misstep you take - steals the butter knife you hid under the mattress, drowns the stash of sleeping pills you pocketed and meant to put in the lady's dinner. He will never let you hurt her - or yourself. As much as he hates you, he sees how happy you make his mistress, and for that reason he would rather die than let himself give into the urge to rip into your soft little body and chew on your bones.

Yet every time she holds you close or kisses you breathlessly, or even bruises up that delicate skin of yours instead of his, you can feel the man's cold eyes tearing into your back, his dulled steps following you deep into the mansion - trying to understand what makes you better than him, what it is about you that made her forget about him completely.

But this game of cat and mouse doesn't last long. Soon your master catches on to it - she gets tired of cleaning up your messes, of punishing you, or him, or sometimes both; after all such lack of discipline and respect is completely unacceptable under her roof. So she decides to settle things once and for all. With you as the center piece, she holds you down, spreading your legs wide apart as she gestures at him to come closer with a tiny knowing smirk.

"Look at her, baby boy. Such a pretty girl, no? Don't you want to kiss and make up? I know she'll play good if you give in a bit. How about a little taste, hmm?"

She looks at you, her voice a tad too sweet to be anything other than terrifying.

"Now you be a doll and stay still for mommy, okay?"

He's unsure at first, wet puppy eyes moving swiftly from you to her, and back to you, his gaze following the naked skin of your legs to your thighs to her sharp well manicured nails baring all of you for him to see. He gulps, mouth watering at the sight - there is something so vulnerable, so tempting about your provocative pose, the air of helplessness, of being unable to fight back or run away. It awakens something in him, something primal, and when his mistress snaps her fingers, signaling that it's time to let go completely, he doesn't need a second reminder.

His lips are on you in the next moment - licking up and down your sensitive folds, wrapping his mouth around your clit and sucking so very lightly you're stuck between cursing at him and begging him to go deeper.

"F-fuck, she's so sweet, ma'am, t-thank you, thank you!"

He's shaking all over, hushed vibrating moans escaping his body and sending wicked tingles through your throbbing, overstimulated pleasure button - setting all those strung, pent up nerve endings on fire by keeping you on the very blink of ecstasy, the very hill of depravity. For the first time he's looking at you, really looking at you - noticing every dimple and smile line, every curve, each moment of softeness, of reckless abandon on your face, your body, your mind. And you're beautiful.

He can't wait to play with you again.

#yandere #yancore #male yandere #yandere smut #male yandere x reader #yandere oneshot #yandere x you #yandere male x reader #yandere oc #yandere oc x reader #female yandere #female yandere x reader #female yandere x you

[dcxdpdabbles]

Hi!

I saw someone did an Ask about Damien and Danny knowing each other and just keeping in touch just not letting the Batfam know (was it Angel and Demon Brat or something?not sure).

What if we break some hearts,

We have big brother Danny who is dead (the big brother who told him it was okay to call others brother and that blood wasn't everything no matter what grandfather said), Tucker (or Sam or Jazz) just barely escaped Amity's destruction (maybe the GIW went nuclear on the city, maybe a ghost or demon finally got the better of Danny, maybe the portal need to be closed and Danny's life was the price, or maybe the city was already gone and Danny barely got Tucker and Dani out dealers choice) and tearful introduces Damien to his niece (Last last piece of the man he's spent countless lives thinking about, dreaming about and loving since his first life (I love Pharaoh/magically powerful Tucker)).

That got way more detail the more I was writing, haha... Oops 😳😬.

What do you think? Or just whatever pops into your mind. You do you, whatever you put out will be amazing!

There is loud, awful banging coming from the front door.

Or, to be more specific, there is someone banging on the door as hard as they can. At first, Alfred is wondering if he is imagining things. It was a rather quiet night for the bats to be out and about.

There was a storm that had blown through Gotham, driving everyone to take shelter. The howling winds and ran had left even the worst of scum chilled to their bones.

The bats were on their way home. Having called it a night after the third time, the wind had nearly caused two of them to fall while grappling across the city.

When he heard the noise, Alfred had just finished prepping the cave for post-patrol and went up to get everyone some warm clothes. He immediately went for one of the hidden guns around the manor.

Master Bruce was unaware of them, but Alfred had been able to hide the weapons since the lad was five years old.

Crouching low to the ground, he slowly approached one of the windows that overlooked the front door. Whoever had come knocking had somehow gotten past the first three levels of security.

Alfred leaned up only so one of his eyes could look over the window shill, keeping his back to the wall for easy push-off and the shotgun at the ready.

None of their motion detectors, video cameras, or heat vision cameras had detected the two standing figures on his porch. He couldn't see them clearly due to the water splashing against the glass, but it seemed like a man and a child.

Narrowing his eyes, Alfred leaned back down. He quickly pressed the side of his watch in three rapid clicks. At once, the signal that the manor may be compromised went out, alerting his returning family.

Alfred did not wait for a response from them. Instead, he threw himself on the ground, using the crawling technique taught to him by his years in Her Majesty's service to get closer to the door.

He trains the barrels at the wood, ignoring the desperate banging. Usually, he would have opened the door to question who they were, but it was nearly four in the morning, and he could have sworn that the man had been wearing a purple jacket and pantsuit.

In Gotham, that could only mean one thing. If the Joker was here, he would not live to see another sunrise. Alfred was done with that fool harming his family. Master Bruce's wishes be damned.

The only reason he didn't take the shot, for surely the bullets would pass through the aged wood, was that he had seen a more petite figure, too—a child.

He isn't sure who the child is—or if it is even a child—but he can't risk ending the Joker until he is sure the small;ler one is safe. Alfred had seen war many times in his military days; he did not want to force a child to live with them, too.

A few minutes pass when the banging sound starts to slow down, and there is nothing but silence. The wind contuines to howl. The rain continues to spray across the roof, and the lightning and thunder continue to roar.

Alfred feels his fingers strain with the urge to shoot but he keeps still ignoring everything until his watch beeps softly three times. Master Bruce and the children had arrived.

They must not have come through the cave, for he does not hear or sense an approach from anywhere inside the manor. A shadow overpasses him, causing Alfred to snap his gun in that direction until he registers it in the shape of a bat and quickly reaims towards the door.

He keeps himself perfectly still on the ground, even as he starts to hear faint curses, thumps, and a chilling little girl's scream. There is a moment of stillness before two figures fly through the wood—the child and the made-in-purple.

Alfred has a moment of surprise. It seemed the child was a meta before he pulled the trigger, aiming for the man's knees. His aim has not dulled with age, and the bullet sails true. Sadly, the little girl had faster reflections, making the faint glow surrounding her travel down her arm and to the man's body.

Their bodies become intangible as the bullet passes the man easily. Alfred frowns, reloading as he rolls over and swings himself to his feet.

The front door slams open as Master Bruce rushes in, followed by Master Damian. The two crime fighters slam into the strangers, somehow able to touch them when, seconds ago, metal couldn't.

Master Bruce flings the man to the wall, slamming him against one of the tables, while Master Damian has the girl in a painful hold. She thrashes and fails, but she can't get out, and Alfred wonders if her powers are limited.

Alfred trains the gun on the scene, keeping an eye on both Master Bruce and Master Damian at all times in case he needs to cover them.

"Who are you?" Master Bruce hisses, holding the purple suit man up by his collar. At this point, Alfred can see it is not Joker, for the stranger is far too young and has the wrong ethnicity.

"How did you find us?" the man gasps instead of answering, his eyes filled with tears. "The government wasn't supposed to find us here! Wayne was supposed to be safe!"

Alfred doesn't allow his brow to raise, but it's a darn thing. It didn't sound like they were here to do any harm, but one could never be too careful.

"Why are you after Wayne?"

"Don't tell him anything!" The little girl screeches, rainwater mixing with the blood dripping down her face. Master Damian had not been gentle when he slammed her against the ground. He was likely worried about Alfred. "We aren't afraid of you, GIW scum!"

"GIW?" Master Damian repeats. "Who or what are they?"

Both strangers freeze. "You're not with them?"

Master Bruce remains silent, and for one tense moment, Alfred wonders if the other man has passed out from the way he slumps in his old ward's hold.

"You're not with them. Thank the Ancients." The man gasps. He suddenly reaches out, grabbing Master Bruce in a craze of desperation. "My daughter. She's in danger. Please get her to Damian Wayne. Danny said he could protect her. Please... please help us."

His strength fades, and the man finally does fall unconscious, his hold on Master Bruce's slipping as he faints. The little girl screams- it doesn't sound human at all, and the noise likely started Master Damian's reflection, for the boy is quickly slamming onto her back, knocking her out, too.

Alfred finally lowers his weapon as the lightning flashes again, followed by loud thunder. He waits a few minutes before creeping towards Master Bruce.

The other is checking the stranger, mouth pulled into a tight, thin line once they spot that underneath the purple outfit, there are multiple wounds. Burns, cuts, and bruises decorate the dark skin of the stranger.

It's easy to see he escaped from somewhere abusive.

A gutted gasp from Master Damian has them swinging around, Alfred with his gun raised and Master Bruce with one of his batarangs at the ready. Instead of seeing the youngest being attacked, they find Damian staring in horror at the amulet he is holding.

The chain is still around the girl's neck as she was flipped onto her back- likely the lad was also checking her for wounds. Alfred can't see much but he can tell she may be just as wounded as the man.

"What is it, Robin" Master Bruce growls.

There is silence from the Katana user until one single tear rolls down from underneath the boy's mask over his cheek. He looks up at them with the most devastated expression Alfred has ever seen as he whispers.

"She bares my older brother's mark. Father, I think she's family."

"What, brother?" Master Bruce asks. "You never mentioned a brother before."

"He died.....years ago, but if Todd returned, then my brother...I left my kind-hearted brother in my Grandfather's grasp. I left him..."

The lighting flashes behind Master Damian's form, highlighting the devastation on his expression, and Alfred is filled with confusion, horror, and worry faster than the thunder can catch up.

Master Bruce's face loses all emotion- the coping mechanism Alfred had seen him use since the day he was found in that alley by the cold bodies- and growls. "To the cave. I want answers."

#dcxdpdabbles #dcxdp crossover #The lost In-laws #Part 1 #light angst #Tw: mention of implied torture #Tw: Major chater death #It's Danny he died in Amity Park #Danny/Tucker #Dani is their daughter #Danny died to get them to saftly #Damian wasn't aware Danny lived #Alfred's pov

[bkd-b3ans]

You try to repair a watch, Boothill is being annoying as usual, you end up discovering his neurolink perfectly mimics human emotions.

-> Ship: Boothill X Mechanic!Reader (or just tech savvy idk the term really)

-> Rating: Safe for All

-> TL;DR: Boothill visits you after closing hours, nearly ruins a 5 million watch repair commission, stares for a bit too long while you work and overheats for a bit, ends up learning you live above your own workshop and you learn he gets flustered easy.

-> Extra notes: No idea where I will go with these, I just love writing stuff. Next one is going to be more about touching / feeling, but until then, you too can experience casual chatter. I do not proof read, whatever is written is in accordance to Ellios script, go meow at him. Take this "2nd" part as pure world-building.

-> Word count: 2k~ ish

-> First part: here

Thank you for reading and bearing with my awful English. If you have any prompts I would be more than happy to hear them.

"Pardner? Yoohooo~" Boothill was waving his arm like a manic from the front of the counter, trying to catch your attention, but you were too engrossed in your work, tinkering away with some expensive watch you were paid to fix, the tiny gears and springs neatly organized in your table in tiny boxes with labels, while you were hunched over the table, looking through a magnifying glass and listening to music, tongue almost sticking out like some cartoon character while you were trying to place the gear in its place carefully using some precise tweezers.

For all you cared, your shop was closed for the day, so why would anyone in their right mind, or that knows how to read a sign, would even bother you? Of course you didn't take into account a Galaxy Ranger that had a passion for annoying you at random times.

"Psst, hey, over 'ere..." he sighed, "Fudge this". Impatient as ever, Boothill just helped himself with one of the expensive motor oil cans in the counter and stepped around it, taking off his hat and placing it on your head.

The whole motion made you jump out of your skin, dropping the tweezers together with the very important, one of a kind gear, that you could barely notice while it was on your table, let alone on your floor, rolling off into the void like all of the pens you've lost throughout the years.

"WHAT THE FUCK, MY FUCKING WORK OF MY AEONS-" you took off the hat annoyed, hand still shaking from the scare and heart running laps in your chest. Shoving the hat into Boothills chest, you couldn't help but be angry at the man, sighing.

"Damn sugar-cube, didn't know ye were this jumpy. Ye should be more aware of yer surroundings you know?"

"What the hell does that mean. MY SHOP IS CLOSED BOOTHILL, CAN'T YOU READ??"

"Well, not your language no, it's all a bunch of jumbles and lines"

You looked confused for a moment before realizing that neither of you were from the same planet. You rubbed the bridge of your nose, trying to get rid of your furrow.

"Just, shut up and help me look for that gear. AND PUT THE DAMN CAN DOWN"

He raised his arms in defeat, putting down the can of motor oil and looking around your workbench while you were painfully looking for the gear with your magnifying glasses.

"Lotta' shiny pieces you have on the table. Are these really more important than your good old buddy, Boothill?"

"Unless you're willing to give me 5 million, then yes"

Boothill choked

"5 million?? For some beautiful watch?"

"What can I say, some people have more than they know what to do with. Now stop yapping and get on your knees, I can't see shit."

"Is that an invitation, darling?"

"... BOOTHILL!"

"Aye aye, don't get your feathers ruffled like this darling, just sit there and be pretty"

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

You couldn't help but be annoyed still, slumped in your chair, fiddling with your pen, while Boothill was looking around. How long has it been already, maybe a few minutes? Hours? Days??? Your work couldn't wait that much, and each ticking second felt agonizing. You were so close too, getting interrupted was the last thing you needed right now. You always had plans, a schedule, deadlines, you couldn't afford the unpredictability that is Boothill sometimes.

You almost got too lost in your thoughts before you heard a sudden thud, metal against wood, and a proud exclamation.

"Here it is sugar-cube, your pretty little thing... Cogwheel whatever. Now can you stop looking like someone spat in your food or do I need to repair this watch myself to make you happy?"

You could swear sometimes he was like a dog, a big doberman. For as scary as he could look sometimes, you couldn't help but be unable to push him away. All you could do was just let out an amused scoff, taking the gear piece in the palm of your hand, and gently placing it in it's box.

"No, no, you've done enough damage already. Why are you here even?"

"Just wanted to pay my best buddy a visit? What, a man can't do that no more?"

"No fixing your body? No maintenance work? Really nothing? Just a visit? Odd, thought you were a busy man"

"Oh I sure am sugar-cube, but sometimes even I need to sit down and relax."

"... In my workshop"

"In yer workshop, yes."

You sighed

"Fine, fine, stay for as long as you need, but don't touch anything that is in this-" you motion around your workbench "general area"

He tipped his hat in acknowledgment

"Aye aye, I'll stay put, fudge me, you can be very serious sometimes."

"5 million"

"Right yes, that's understandable."

You went back to work, trying to finish placing the last pieces inside that damned watch, headphones back on your ears. Boothill was simply slumped on the couch you kept around the waiting area, that barely saw any use to begin with. He was just looking around, bored out of his mind, the silence really starting to get to him. On occasion he's throw you glances, looking like a kicked puppy only to be met by your back either way. Yet he couldn't help but notice the few tics you had, tapping your foot, humming to yourself from time to time, arranging your hair by shaking your head around, and just how damn beautiful you looked in that dim warm light.

By no means we're you prettied up and groomed, after all, working with machinery all day will just lead to one always being covered by oil or sutt, clothes messy, the tools around your belt loud and heavy, but to him, it was part of the charm. The passion you had for what you did, the care you treated everything with, even his own body when it needed repairs. Sure, you two may butt heads more often than goats, but you were the reason he kept making his trips back to your workshop for any needs. He trusted you, felt comfort in your presence.

He could feel his insides start to heat up, his mind trailing off. Sure, he couldn't blush for the love of him, after all blood stopped flowing through his body long, long ago, but his body still reacted from time to time to strong emotions, and now it was no different. It felt, uncomfortable almost, a strange emptiness in his metal gut. Maybe it was the bullets he snacked in like some chips, or maybe it was more than that. He just simply pulled his hat over his eyes to focus and calm down.

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

Finally, after so many hours, you were finally done, the watch ticking gleefully, almost as if happy with it's new look. You sighed in relief, finally placing down your headphones and slumping in your chair, pulling your glasses up.

"Finally... I swear they are trying to drive me insane with all these new 'trinkets' that have way too many small pieces for their own good. How you holding up, Boots?"

"Fine as ever sugar, bored out of my mind, but rested"

"Yeah, I can see that, you've already made a dent in my couch"

"Hey, I helped ya find that gear for free, can't I get some more respect"

"And who's fault was it that I dropped it?" You said, raising your eyebrow.

"Aye aye, sorry 'bout that."

There was a moment of pause

"Say, partner, you've messed around inside my body for a while now. Do you know if there's any functions that might mimic proper human emotions?"

"Human emotions? Hmmm"

You thought for a moment, trying to remember if you've seen any kind of code that might do that.

"I don't think I've seen anything like that, but I've also never like, actually paid attention. There may be some functions that mimic that, after all, you might need them to think and work properly. Why?"

"Ah, nothing important, was just wondering."

"I can always check if you want. Of course, for a price"

He couldn't help but scoff, amused "You were never free eh?"

"Someone has to eat"

"Sure, sure. I mean why not, might as well get this mystery solved, since I'm here and have nothing better to do."

"Then come with me"

You both went inside your garage, Boothill already used to all the steps, laying down on the weird table chair as he put it while you connected the cables to the back of his neck, opening the hologram screens.

"Let's see..." you rubbed your chin, pacing around while moving around screens, trying to find anything remotely similar to what Boothill mentioned, but it was rather hard. Every line kept changing dictating different functions every moment.

"Hmm...."

"Anything the matter?"

"No, I just realized why I might have never seen that kind of function. Your neurolink is adapting to everything you do, so it's changing constantly. I think the only way to spot anything us to trigger whatever made you so curious about your 'emotions'"

"Trigger em? And how the fork do you plan on doing that?"

You thought for a moment, moving next to Boothill, dragging the screens along with you. You didn't really give a warning as you poked his chest with a screwdriver, noticing some changes.

"What in the beautiful sky are you doing?"

"There it is" you just pointed at the screen at the suddenly changing lines.

"Your body reacts to your mental state. Right now you are confused"

"I sure as warm lake I am, you're poking me around with a screwdriver."

"What else would have you wanted me to do? Touch you with my own hands?"

He was about to say something, but you grabbed one of the screens, squinting at it.

"Getting flustered, Boots?" You could almost feel your own smug smile forming on your face.

"Flustered? Please, you'd think I'd get 'flustered' from just a check-up?"

"Bashful... Interesting"

"Hey! Stop saying things and answer me, sweetheart"

"And annoyed. Yeah, you do seem to have those functions, and they're damn advanced to mimic human emotions. Guess you aren't just metal after all. You still have the ability to feel. It's interesting how this changes..."

You got too focused on the lines of code, not paying attention to how you started leaning against the table, your hand extremely close to Boothills, fingers almost touching. Sure, you were just staring at the lines changing, but Boothill was staring at your hand, annoyed almost that he couldn't just grab it, only to be confused over why he was annoyed. You just chuckled to yourself and pushed the screen away, unplugging the cables.

"Well, mystery solved, your neurolink functions exactly like a brain and it sends the proper signals, so your body will be affected by your emotions."

"Great-" he rolled his eyes, standing up and scratching the back of his head "You need a new table, this one is forking uncomfortable."

"I don't take feedback"

"Yeah yeah, whatever you say darling." he just hopped off the table, adjusting his hat.

"H-"

"1k credits"

"Damn, let me finish at least. Fine, you know the drill"

"Nah, I'll let it slide this time. Getting to check your internals can be fun sometimes" you patted his back

"I'll go home, unless you want to guard my shop, you should leave too."

"You don't just live in your workshop??"

"...what...?"

"You know, like, I've always only seen you here, where is your home even."

"Oh... Oh! I guess you can say that? My home is upstairs, I bought the whole building when I opened so everything on the ground floor is the shop, upstairs is my place."

"Ok that makes sense... Can I-"

"No"

"Fine fine, I'll go my merry way then. I'll see you next time partner, and thank you for the free check-up"

"Don't get too used to them"

He nodded, tipping his hat and leaving.

#boothill honkai star rail #honkai star rail #hsr #fanfic #hsr fanfic #honkai star rail fanfic #boothill x reader #boothill x you #boothill fanfic #my stuff

[spookyserenades]

Trouvaille - Chapter Eighteen (M)

Pairing(s); BTS OT7 x Reader

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

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

Word Count; 17.4.k

Trouvaille Masterlist

Trouvaille playlist

Updates on the 7th of each month

Hi everyone!!! Happy summer and OMG SEOKJIN IS COMING HOME SOON. I got another update for you all! Got your typical angst, the ghostbusting trio, some fluffyyyy toothrotting romance, and of course, the return of Sexy Yoongi ;) AH! Thank you for waiting patiently for this update, loves, and I can't wait to hear your thoughts on this update 💜

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

Previous Chapter

“I suppose I did this to myself,” Y/N miserably stuck her head under the inferno-hot water pelting from her showerhead, wondering if she tried hard enough, she could drown herself. “Stupid.”

Scrubbing at her eyes furiously, she attempted to focus on bathing, watching her body wash swirl down the drain. It was useless, however, to prevent her mind from replaying the events that had unfolded immediately after Taehyung’s arrival back home. Pinching the bridge of her nose, she leaned her forehead against the cool tiles of the shower wall, picturing it all again. 

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

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

Taehyung, his camera bag in his hand and eyes laser-sharp, had his clothes in disarray, and purple, splotchy love bites all over his neck. Y/N couldn’t find a single word in her brain that made sense to describe how she was feeling as he stood before her, one of his hands tucked into the pocket of his jeans, which were wrinkled and pulled over his hips haphazardly. 

“What are you doing out here?” Taehyung cleared his throat nonchalantly, as if there was nothing out of the ordinary with him. Y/N simply stared, realizing her palm was still mid-air from when she waved at him, and with a jolt, she limply dropped her arm. “You should go in. It’ll be dark soon.”

“I’m… van. Materials for tomorrow, loading them up,” Y/N answered, all choppy and like a rusty robot. “Where… were you? Did you go to the park, or…?”

Taehyung lazily assessed her, his thick eyelashes brushing the tops of his cheekbones as he glanced down at her insecure form. Clicking his tongue, he lifted his camera bag in the air, as if the answer was obvious. 

“Yeah. Then I stopped at the rec center. Why?” 

Y/N was proud, at the very least, that she didn’t break down after his answer, flat and distant. Deciding, out of spite and feral jealousy, that two could play at that game, and Y/N composed herself into dismissal, shrugging. If he wanted to pretend his neck didn’t look like a rabid hyena attacked it, so would she. 

“No reason, just wondering. Can’t wait to see what you’ve been working so hard on these past few weeks,” Y/N chirped, and though it was cheap, she relished in the minute flinch Taehyung offered in response to her words. “I’m gonna head in now. I have a few more things to do before I go back to the Sanders’ tomorrow. Yoongi ordered Chinese food for dinner, it’s in the fridge.”

With that, Y/N flashed Taehyung a tiny smile, Taehyung’s bitten lips parting a couple of centimeters, but not saying another word as he watched her stroll towards the house, her bruised heart thundering painfully in her chest with every step. 

“Stupid!” Y/N repeated, banging her forehead against the tile. “Childish bullshit.”

Y/N had icky guilt swimming around in her gut along with the greasy egg rolls she had choked down on her way to the bathroom, ignoring Yoongi’s requests for her to sit down for dinner. Taehyung really didn’t deserve her treating him so coldly just because the Kodiak hybrid had gone out on some kind of date, even if he was lying about it to her face. But when it came to him, someone who was just as allergic to confrontation and sticky conversations as she was, Y/N found that slipping into a tug-of-war of passive aggression was all too easy with Taehyung.

The water in the shower was becoming cold, Y/N cursing, switching the tap off and wrapping herself in a towel. Gut too sour to stay up any longer, she simply slid into her pajamas, promptly collapsing into bed. Distantly, she could hear Hoseok’s loud voice in the parlor, the dim murmurs of the TV, and Jeongguk stomping around his bedroom above her. The sounds were familiar and comforting, but didn’t stop her thoughts from lingering on her Kodiak hybrid. Y/N thought it was high time for her to swallow the bitter pill and perhaps confess her true feelings to Taehyung, even if he was falling for someone else. That way, at the very least, she could begin to mend one of the shattered sections of her heart. 

“You look like shit. Did you get any sleep?” Jeongguk accused the next morning, Y/N bristling and not even bothering to flick him off. 

After all, she hadn’t, between tangled thoughts of Taehyung and the reminder that she would have to clear the evil spirits from the Sanders’ home the following morning, she was tossing and turning all night. 

“We can’t all look like rockstars 24/7,” Y/N replied sarcastically, gesturing to his typical black jeans/black graphic tee combination. That day, he was wearing a Megadeth concert tee, which Y/N found darkly fitting for the scenario they were about to find themselves in. “How are your scratches?”

“Already healed. Not even a scar. What, do you want me to take my shirt off again?”

“Don’t be a smartass today, it’ll push me right over the edge,” Y/N threatened, jabbing a finger into his solid chest, Jeongguk smirking around the cigarette hanging out of his mouth. “Hurry up and smoke that. Joon doesn’t like waiting.”

With that, Y/N hauled herself into the van, scowling once more at a highly amused Jeongguk, shutting the door so the smoke wouldn’t choke the life out of her and her wolf hybrid. Massaging her sore under eyes, she tripped her way to the passenger seat, smiling weakly at the fuzzy throw blanket that was already placed there for her. Namjoon, fiddling with the radio, assessed her out of the corner of his eye, his lips tugging downwards. 

“Heard you didn’t sleep well,” Namjoon commented, Y/N sighing, both buckling into her seat and bundling up with the blanket. “Are you sure you’ll have enough energy to do the ritual? We can always reschedule it for Wednesday.”

“No, no, I’ll be alright. I want to get it over and done with, the family has been in that hotel room for far too long,” Y/N straightened in the seat from her original slouch, so her words seemed more convincing to her perceptive hybrid. “I told Jeongguk not to be a smartass today. The last thing we need is provoking the spirits while we try to banish them.”

“I already spoke to him about that, too. He’s going to do his own ritual, apparently, while you and I focus more on the cleansing. Is that okay with you?”

Y/N had a feeling that the plan the two of them cooked up was an attempt to get Y/N as far away from anything too dangerous as possible. With Jeongguk doing whatever it was he was planning, likely some kind of exorcism tactic he was familiar with, he’d be the one in the line of fire. Additionally, with Namjoon teaming up with her, she’d have him beside her if things started to go sideways. 

“Yeah, that’s okay. I hope no one gets hurt this time,” Y/N shivered, sticking her hands close to the vents to heat the digits up. “You’re still gonna let me do some things of my own, right? To help close the portal?”

“Of course, we’re a team,” Namjoon furrowed his eyebrows, reading the vulnerability in her expression. 

The van teetered back and forth when Jeongguk yanked the side door open, taking up his usual spot in the back in the booth, scrolling on his phone distractedly. Y/N watched, over her shoulder, him prod along the base of his antlers, one of his eyes twitching as he caught on a tender spot, teeth biting down on his lip ring. She was going to ask if something was wrong, but decided against it when he recovered smoothly, digging through the gear back he packed. 

The first fifteen minutes of the drive were peaceful, Y/N humming along to the radio. However, a fleeting thought had her squeaking loudly, startling Namjoon beside her and making him sharply step on the brakes. 

“What?!” His eyes were wide, silver ears pressed to his skull, Y/N fumbling for her tote bag. 

“I forgot to give you guys your first paycheck! Judy says you two can be official employees at the shop, if you want, and you’ll get paid for all of our consultations, investigations, and cleansings,” Y/N stuck Namjoon’s check in the visor above his head, twisting her torso so she could send Jeongguk’s sailing his way, the elk hybrid catching it with a stunned look on his face. 

“Next time, wait until we’re parked, kiddo. The wolf almost drove off the road,” Jeongguk scolded, though he hastily tore open his envelope to check out how much he had been paid for his labor. 

“Sorry. I’m just excited! Do you two want to start coming to work with me regularly? I can try and move my hours around to accommodate your book club hours on Mondays, Joon,” Y/N felt more bright than she had in hours, a faint dimple appearing in Namjoon’s cheek as he tried to squash down his excitement. “I could do Tuesday through Thursday, and then whenever we’re needed for consults.”

“Are you sure you can change your work days? I could just come in with you on Wednesdays and Thursdays,” Namjoon appeared sheepish, eyes glued to the road and his tail swishing over the side of his seat. 

“Yeah, I’m sure. Judy really likes you two, I’m sure if it meant you being there three times a week, she wouldn’t have a problem coming in on Mondays to cover my previous shift.”

Namjoon quieted down after that, his cheeks coloring all the way to the hoops threaded through his earlobes, Y/N grinning at him and noting Jeongguk’s silence as well. 

“Jeongguk, you can just do the consults if you want. You don’t have to stock shelves with us if you’d prefer not to.”

“No, I’ll come. Got nothing better to do,” Jeongguk quickly replied, caught off guard as he set his first paycheck– a pretty generous one, at that– aside. Humming in satisfaction, Y/N squirmed in her seat, getting comfortable so she could center herself for the remainder of the ride to the Sanders’. 

Y/N’s eyes snapped open as soon as she sensed Namjoon pulling into the driveway. Y/N wasn’t surprised that she knew, without a doubt, that they had arrived; her ability to feel and distinguish energies had been becoming stronger by the day. Mercifully, it was fairly sunny that day, so even if the house was surrounded by a subtle darkness, at least the sky wasn’t filled with oppressive clouds. 

“Ready?” Y/N fixed her gaze on the front door, determination flooding through her when she remembered Tommy’s terrified and exhausted expression, the shadows curling around Namjoon, and the three bleeding scratches tearing into Jeongguk’s back. 

“Remember. Don’t use names, don’t address any of the entities specifically,” Namjoon recapped seriously, catching the Zippo lighter Jeongguk tossed him mid-air, likely for the plethora of candles located in the bag the wolf hybrid was holding in his free hand. “Got the stuff from the church?”

“Church?” Y/N furrowed her eyebrows, looking from him to Jeongguk with great curiosity. 

“Yeah, the one in the town square, the Catholic church. We went there for some items the day we went out to replace the camera,” Jeongguk shook his gear bag in front of Y/N’s face, a playful look in his eyes. “Holy water, blessed salt, medallions and whatnot. We’re marrying the Christians to the Pagans today.”

“Ah, I see…”

“Think of it this way,” Jeongguk cut her off, surprising her by placing a tattooed hand on her shoulder heavily. “Whatever I can’t get rid of with the stuff from the church will probably respond to your practice. Right?”

“Right,” was all Y/N could say, trying to savor the elk hybrid soothing her, his fingers squeezing over her shoulder once before letting her go and pulling the van’s side door open. “Be safe, okay, sweets?”

“Mm-hmm. You too,” he smirked confidently, leaping out of the vehicle and heading straight for the front door of the house. 

“We’re gonna start outside,” Y/N blinked once Jeongguk disappeared into the house, turning her attention to Namjoon. “Then when we’re inside, we’ll start at the top floor, go to the basement, and end with the ground floor– it confuses the spirits, gets them out faster.”

“Lead the way,” Namjoon inelegantly stumbled out of the van, the clumsiness of the action making Y/N giggle, breaking up the tension that she was feeling. “Ouch.”

“Uh-oh, are you okay?” Y/N sobered up a tad, Namjoon’s ears drooped as he used his free hand to massage his elbow. “Break a bone?”

“I’m sturdier than you give me credit for,” Namjoon muttered, a cute pout tugging at his lower lip. “Want me to place these candles somewhere?”

“No, they’re for inside,” Y/N shook her head, feeling Namjoon follow her to the window where ‘The Watcher’ usually lingered, frowning at the cloudy glass. “All I wanna do out here is bury the spell jars I made in the four corners of the yard and make a boundary with the incense and herb bundles.”

“I can bury the jars,” Namjoon volunteered helpfully, stopping Y/N mid-stride by grabbing her wrist, diving his fingers into her tote bag for the glass bottles. “But stay close to me while you burn the herbs. Promise?”

“Okay, Bug,” Y/N held out her pinky finger, the wolf hybrid staring at the digit quizzically. Snorting, she reached for Namjoon’s hand, linking her pinky with his, loving that she was the first person to show him how to pinky promise. “I promise!”

True to her word, Y/N stuck closely to Namjoon– not just because she wasn’t a promise-breaker, but because Namjoon’s intimidating height and mass made her feel safer the closer she was to him. Focusing, she used Jeongguk’s lighter to spark up the bundle of herbs, inhaling the scent of burning rosemary, sage, and cedar. The two of them worked silently and with purpose, making a slow counterclockwise circle around the property, Y/N shivering as she felt energy push past her and outside of the boundary her and Namjoon were creating. 

She knew Namjoon could feel what she did as well, with his ears twitching and an occasional sideways glance to her while she fanned smoke around the yard. In stark contrast to the last time she was at the Sanders’ home, Y/N felt confident and sure of herself. 

Though almost all of her focus was on the cleansing, she couldn’t help but think of how Jeongguk was faring inside. Her and Namjoon completed their circle around the yard, ending up back at the window, and Y/N felt a significant change in the energy– she could no longer sense the ickiness of something ancient watching her, but she spent a few more moments waving smoke around the glass pane anyways, Namjoon waiting patiently beside her.

 “Let’s go inside. We’re done out here,” Y/N murmured quietly, in the zone. The wolf hybrid, once again, held her hand while she climbed up the slick, wet concrete porch, though Y/N wondered if the reason he tended to do that was because he himself was quite clumsy and needed the reassurance of stability. Either way, it was endearing.

As she pushed open the door, the first thing Y/N noticed was the line of salt sprinkled along the threshold. Because it was still early morning, the house was full of blue light, and didn’t seem as scary as it had when they conducted the night time investigations. Namjoon knew exactly what to do already; so he started straight for the staircase, Y/N swallowing and shadowing him, ears picking up the sound of Jeongguk’s heavy combat boots stomping around up there. 

Y/N didn’t have to tell Namjoon how to set up the candles, as they had gone over that part of the ritual at length previously. She simply lit another bundle of herbs in Ms. Sanders’ room, making sure she got every square inch of the bedroom. It appeared that Jeongguk had already tackled that room; salt on the windowsills, medallions placed in various locations, and the odd wet patch on the floor that Y/N suspected was sprinkled holy water. 

“Feels good in here,” Y/N commented to Namjoon, though admittedly, she was already getting worried about the two children’s rooms. “Time to move on?”

Namjoon nodded, letting the candle he set on Ms. Sanders’ dresser melt down completely. Glued to him, they met Jeongguk in Tommy’s room, where he was chucking holy water into the open closet, his ruby rosary clutched in his other fist. Softly, he was mumbling something in Latin, Y/N relieved that he seemed to be just fine. As directed, Namjoon placed a candle within the closet, crouching on the floor and watching Y/N thoroughly fill the area with herbal smoke, the heaviness of the room easing up second by second. 

Between her silent prayers and Jeongguk’s audible ones, the trio was in Tommy’s room for about twenty minutes before Y/N could breathe easy for the first time in the space, the sun shining more brightly through the windows, and Jeongguk’s constant prayer paused, chewing on his lip ring contemplatively. 

“Is it…?”

“Closed,” Jeongguk answered Namjoon resolutely, wiping sweat from his brow. Y/N agreed with him, the closet felt perfectly normal after their combined efforts, so she shut the cracked window in the room to seal the boundaries in place. “The portal’s dormant. All that’s left is making sure we push the rest of the entities out and I think the family can come back safely.”

Without thinking about it, Y/N had a fistful of the back of Jeongguk’s tee-shirt when they finally entered Julie’s room, just in case the entity in there decided to harm him again. The elk hybrid didn’t seem to notice, simply resuming his Latin monologue and chucking holy water at the walls. Gently, Namjoon took the herb bundle from Y/N, taking up the task of filling the room with the cleansing smoke while she clung to Jeongguk. 

She had practiced over the past few days extending her protective shield to others, in a way that wouldn’t completely zap her of her energy and cause her nose to bleed, so Y/N took a deep breath, Jeongguk keeping her tethered to earth as she imagined the shield around the three of them. With her eyes closed, she could hear the tiny intake of breath Namjoon made from across the room– Y/N wondering if he could sense what she was doing– but Jeongguk didn’t even flinch, dutifully focusing on making a line of blessed salt along each windowsill while Y/N held onto him. 

To the great surprise of all three of them, there wasn’t an aggressive, angry demon that came flying through the room to try and stop their efforts, so as the minutes ticked by and all that could be heard was Jeongguk’s prayer, Y/N let go of his shirt carefully. Y/N didn’t want to entertain the thought that things seemed too easy, so she pushed the thought out of her mind, and instead, she helped Namjoon wrap things up with the smoke cleansing and candle lighting on the ground floor. 

“These candles can be lit while no one’s here, right?” Jeongguk leaned against the wall in the kitchen, where she and Namjoon were finishing their tasks. 

“They’ll be out before we leave. They’re just tealights,” Y/N stubbed out the herb bundle she was holding onto, taking in a lungful of sweet-perfumed air. The Sanders’ house felt like an entirely different home; airy, bright, and Y/N could hear early spring birds chirping under the window that a malevolent energy used to haunt. “I just want to make sure all the windows are shut before we leave, do one last walk-through… but your plan seemed to work really well. Who would have thought that Pagan and Christian practices mesh so well?” “You’ll soon realize I’m almost always right about these sorts of things, kiddo,” Jeongguk smacked a fresh pack of Marlboros against his wrist bone, pulling a cigarette out of the carton with a smirk. 

“Okay, don’t get cocky,” Y/N grouched, shouldering by him and rolling her eyes at his smoky chuckles, breezing through the house for her final walk-through. “Don’t smoke in here, please.”

“No shit,” Jeongguk called after her, watching her figure disappear up the stairs. “Nothing went wrong?”

The second half of his statement was directed at Namjoon, who was packing away spare materials into Y/N’s tote bag on the kitchen counter, the wolf hybrid’s bitten ear flickering with annoyance. 

“You’d know if something did,” Namjoon replied simply, slinging her bag over his shoulder, trying to keep the snarl out of his voice. “Start the van while you’re outside.”

Jeongguk distractedly shook the keys to the vehicle in his free hand, already striding towards the front door, Namjoon shaking his head at the elk hybrid’s nonchalance. He himself, however, couldn’t believe how successful the three of them had been, and a strange emotion Namjoon couldn’t tag a name to welled up inside of him when he looked around the house. 

Namjoon might have not had the same kind of ability to sense energies in the way Y/N could, but there was a marked difference to how he was able to move around the house, breathe a little more freely, and the primal– still very new– instinct to protect Y/N from some kind of unseen threat eased up the on the chokehold it had on him. Even then, when he was more than confident that they had banished all of the negativity, he found himself hanging back in the living room, listening to Y/N’s light footsteps from above, waiting for her to come back down and join him outside. 

“Joonie?” Y/N’s voice floated down from the stairs as she hopped down them, surprised to see him waiting before her eyes widened. “Oh, shit. Do you think it’s okay I said your name?”

Namjoon blinked, watching her chew her lips and glance at Jeongguk outside, in the distance smoking his cigarette by the van. Namjoon didn’t know when he had gotten so used to the handful of nicknames that Y/N had for him, and was shocked that after only two hours of her not uttering one of them, he realized how much he liked that quirk of hers. 

“I think it’s alright, now,” Namjoon recovered, shaking away the bizarre emotions he was feeling. While he was interested in the unexplained, that didn’t necessarily mean he enjoyed unexplainable things happening to himself. Y/N’s mouth opened, but it was her growling stomach that interrupted her words, heat flooding her cheeks. “Want to stop for some lunch before we go home? There was a ‘hot pot’ place on the way here I saw you eyeing.”

“I’m either deeply unsubtle, or your perception is on another level. Weren’t you driving?” Y/N accused, making her way to him with a shy grin. 

“It’s a mixture of both,” Namjoon confessed, refusing to hand over her tote bag while she opened up the front door and locked it for the final time. “What is hot pot, though?”

“Oh! You get to pick out a broth, and then all of the noodles, vegetables, and meats you want, then you cook it right at your table! I think you’ll like it, you really wanna go?”

Namjoon nodded, waving smoke out of his face from Jeongguk’s still-burning cigarette. 

“Yeah, we need to eat,” Jeongguk pried into the conversation, his fingers dancing around the base of his antlers again. “That shit will suck the life out of you.”

Once in the van, Y/N felt loopy satisfaction, sending a text to Ms. Sanders while Namjoon drove to the hot pot restaurant. 

Y/N: We just finished the cleansing, with great success! You and the kids should be able to move back in now, and please contact me anytime you need, we’ll be there for you. 

Sighing, Y/N glanced at Namjoon, a faint dimple in his cheek that told her he was quite pleased with how things turned out, her heart squeezing in her chest as she poked his sweater-clad bicep– his bushy tail wagging in consequence. 

“I’m proud of you two. I’m happy we’re a team,” Y/N admitted seriously, Namjoon clearing his throat nervously at the praise. And when Y/N peeked at Jeongguk, he wasn’t rolling his eyes, he was actually smiling at her, teeth and all, even if there was a glint of teasing mischief across his features. 

“I hope you can handle spicy food. I’m getting the Sichuan broth,” Jeongguk announced, neither of the hybrids acknowledging her praise, but Y/N knew that they appreciated it based on their facial expressions. “And I’m not going to share my order of pork belly.”

“As long as you don’t hog the dipping sauces, we won’t have a problem,” Y/N snorted, relaxing back into her seat, looking forward to sharing a triumphant meal with the two of them.

“Ugh, I’m bored,” Y/N complained to the ceiling, slouching on the stool at work with absolutely nothing to do, and nobody to talk to. 

Namjoon and Jeongguk were unable to join her at work until the following week, when their paperwork allowing them to be legally employed went through, so she was alone in the dead metaphysical shop. Additionally, she pouted about going home after her shift– all of her hybrids were so busy lately, it was rare that she had quality time with all seven of them at once.

In the two days that followed the cleansing, a whirlwind of events happened all at once. Hoseok had indeed taken up employment at the rec center coaching the junior track team, and spent several hours there organizing things for the spring season and getting acclimated with his upcoming responsibilities. Besides him, Yoongi actually decided to take up coaching part-time as well, even after all of his insistence that he didn’t necessarily want to, so he was gone just as frequently as Hoseok. 

Jimin was often occupied outside preparing the garden beds for fast-approaching spring, exercising horses, or tending to the grounds, and while Y/N helped as often as she could, there were only so many hours she could take digging in the frigid dirt and dodging chickens nipping at her heels after a day at work. As for Namjoon and Jeongguk; the two of them were predictably busy with their own hobbies, the wolf hybrid catching up on the book club assignments he was behind on, and Jeongguk obsessively watching videos about paranormal equipment. That left her with Seokjin, who she spent most of her time with, and Taehyung, who was either hardly at home or avoiding her like a poisonous spider.

Sighing, Y/N twirled a pen between her finger tips. With the house cleansing out of the way, she had no more excuses to try and avoid patching things up with Taehyung, or at the very least, attempt to have some kind of productive conversation with him. It broke her heart that it seemed that the home Taehyung had grown to truly love wasn’t something he found comfort in at the moment, so it was her main priority to swallow her pride and restore things to normalcy.

She thought back to the early winter, prior to Christmas, when Taehyung was his happiest. Getting into his photography, sharing his work with her and the others at the expos, hanging out with her and Yoongi in the music room on Fridays while they had their piano lessons and he would listen to records on the floor. Frowning, she reached for the Kodiak Hybrids for Dummies she brought along with her for the post-lunch lull she was enduring, which she had been using the past few weeks to try and glean anything enlightening about his behavior. 

Y/N tried to read a chapter of each guidebook simultaneously, so she was finishing up the last few pages of the eighth chapter– one on dietary preferences– for Kodiak hybrids before she’d move onto the next for not just that one, but the six others, as well. The chapters on various diets were entertaining, for sure, but Y/N realized that her boys pretty much ate whatever was in front of them, regardless of the ‘preferences’ listed in the guide books. For instance, elk hybrids allegedly favored fresh, light, vegetable based foods; but Jeongguk was one of the biggest meat eaters in the house. She hadn’t noticed Taehyung having a particular, all-consuming craving for salmon, either, so if anything, the chapter was plainly  useless. 

Yawning while turning the page, she choked on her own spit when she read what the next chapter was so boldly titled: Mating, Heats, Ruts. Immediately beginning to sweat, much like how she did when she found out what scenting was, she scanned the front windows of the shop, making sure no one was strolling towards the entrance to browse for spell candles. 

“What on god’s green planet are heats and ruts?” Y/N panicked, though truthfully, thanks to her past as a vet, she knew exactly what they were in the animal kingdom. She had a nervous feeling that they weren’t so different in the hybrid world, either. “Oh Jesus…”

Hastily, she blew past the chapter title page, hesitantly beginning to read and forgetting all about ‘balanced diets for your hybrid’. For the thousandth time, and likely not the last, she was faced with new information about hybrids she probably should have already known by then. 

Mating: Some hybrids will find what they will consider to be their ‘mate’ within their lifetimes. Depending on species, these hybrids will mate ‘for life’ more often than not. The instinct to mate is triggered by the hybrid seeing another as their ideal counterpart. Like their fully animal counterparts, the purpose of ‘mateship’ is for reproduction, but because hybrids are human as well, love and romance is another consideration that the hybrid will factor in when selecting their mate. It is debated whether or not hybrids have control over choosing a mate, some experts claim that is entirely instinct-based, others believe that the hybrid will select a mate once they deem their selection worthy. 

For Kodiak hybrids, specifically: the species is known to be serially monogamous, meaning that unless they chose a mate that they intend to stay with for life, they will select a different partner to spend their heats/ruts with each cycle. For those who have mated, jealousy can be a very big issue when it comes to their mate. 

Heats/Ruts: Hybrids, when they reach sexual maturity around the age of eighteen, will develop seasonal heats/ruts; the season during the year at which the cycle will happen depends on the species. Typically, heats/ruts can be handled alone by ‘unmated’ hybrids by the hybrid themselves, and will often seclude themselves from their adoptive guardians. Other hybrids seek out a partner to help them through this cycle to ease discomfort, but it is species dependent, as well as dependent on the hybrid’s personality and temperament. 

There have often been many cases where a hybrid will not experience an intense heat/rut until they feel comfortable in their environment, but this behavior is seen in exotic hybrids or ones with skittish/distrustful personalities. 

As for hybrids that have selected a mate, their heats/ruts will be unbearably uncomfortable and cannot be handled by the hybrid alone. The mated hybrid will feel excruciating pain and discomfort if unable to complete their heat/rut without their mate, and can be threatening to the hybrid’s health and wellbeing. It is important for adoptive guardians who may have a mated pair of hybrids to give them the space to work through the cycle. 

Heats/ruts typically last 2-3 days at their height, but days leading up to and after the cycle can leave the hybrid sensitive as well. For more information on how to make your hybrid comfortable during their cycles, refer to page 809. 

Kodiak hybrids typically experience their heats/ruts during May-June.

Y/N’s mouth was dropped open and rather dry, reading the pages frantically three times over. Warmth flushed her from head to toe, not exactly surprised none of the boys brought up that aspect of their natures– and it wasn’t like she ever asked. Although she was surprised, and just a touch annoyed, Yoongi at the very least never said anything to her. Fanning herself, she pulled up multiple tabs on her phone, scribbling a messy note on an old receipt. 

Seokjin/Yoongi: Ruts any time of year. Lasts between 4-5 days

Hoseok: December-early spring. Usually monogamous. 3-4 days

Namjoon: Mid spring- early summer, but also for two weeks in the second half of winter. Monogamous, mate for life. 4-5 days (excluding the winter rut)

Jimin: Winter. Strictly monogamous. 3-4 days

Taehyung: May-June, serially monogamous. Rut can last anywhere from two days to two weeks

Jeongguk: August-early winter. “Courtship” is important. Rut can last days on and off, sometimes for up to several weeks depending on hybrid. 

Y/N was boiling hot all over once she finished jotting down her notes, overwhelmed and embarrassed. Before she could get ahead of herself, or even ashamed that she didn’t know about these specific things about the boys, she crumpled up the sticky note and shoved it deep into her tote bag. She had stressed early on to each of them to tell her if they were ever uncomfortable or needed something, so she concluded (shakily) that since none of them brought up their ruts, maybe they hadn’t experienced them full-force yet. Greedily chugging water from the bottle Yoongi packed her, she narrowed her eyes at the picture of him she stuck to her work computer monitor, swearing to back him into a corner and get him to spill. 

Trying to think about literally anything else than her hybrids and their ruts, she pushed the Kodiak Hybrids for Dummies aside and returned to what she was working on for Yoongi’s birthday. The hand-written symbols on the page, ones that were once unfamiliar to her, became a form of artistic expression thanks to her leopard hybrid, and had been erased and rewritten dozens of times by then. Y/N knew she was a perfectionist, but her dissatisfaction with herself had never been so frustrating. Both envying and admiring Yoongi’s raw natural talent, she scanned the page of sheet music, filled with notes she was trying to arrange into a pretty composition of her own.

There was, of course, the struggle of picking a suitable name for the piece as well. There was a list of titles she was playing with, but none fit the vision she had for the composition exactly. Humming, she erased a section of the very last measure, deciding to end the song more gently than she originally planned. Minutes ticked away at lightning-speed while she wrote and rewrote notes, and before she knew it, her shift was up and not a soul came into the shop to disrupt her process. 

By then, she supposed she had to be satisfied with the piece; Yoongi’s birthday was the next day. There would be time for her to practice during the day, as she had taken it off from work to celebrate, Yoongi would be spending half of his birthday at the rec center setting up things for the junior basketball team’s spring season. Hastily scooping up all of her books, she locked up the shop, wondering who would be waiting for her at home.

“Hello?” Y/N fumbled for her phone buzzing away in her pocket, simultaneously stumbling into her car. 

“Y/N! Christ, what are you, in a tunnel or something?” Ben responded immediately, making Y/N snort. 

“No, I’m getting in my car. Just locked up the shop. Can you hear me now?” Adjusting her grip on her phone, she realized she was covering the microphone with her scarf. “How are things?”

“Good, it’s getting warmer finally, huh?” 

“Not warm enough. Hoseok is killing me complaining about the cold all the time. Seokjin might hate it more, but he doesn’t complain nearly as much!”

“That fox is a character. Everyone’s doing well, though? How about the new jobs you told me some of them are getting?” 

“It’s only day two, but I think the three that picked up work at the rec center are enjoying it. I miss them though…” Y/N pouted, Ben chuckling through the receiver. “Namjoon and Jeongguk are going to start coming to Judy’s with me next week. And Yoongi’s birthday is tomorrow, so I’m excited for that!”

“Big plans?”

“Mmm… maybe not by your standards. Something that suits him, though. I’m taking him out on a date.”

“Romantic. He’ll love it, I’m sure,” Ben agreed with her. “Then again, you could get him a frying pan and he’d treat it like a diamond.”

“Stop,” Y/N groaned, embarrassed. “So, I read something interesting today about hybrids.”

“This ought to be good. What did you find out this time that was obvious to all but you?” Ben teased, Y/N sticking her tongue out at him even though he couldn’t see. 

“Okay, Mr. Wonderful. I learned about mating and ruts. I didn’t realize that was a thing for them,” Y/N snapped, Ben dissolving into thick laughter, which irked her further. “What?!”

“Sorry, I don’t mean to laugh. I can just picture the fucking look on your face reading that in one of those guidebooks you are hoarding,” Ben took a breath, Y/N similarly imagining how red in the face he was getting from laughing at her. “Any comments?”

“Well, yeah. Why the fuck haven’t any of them brought it up?”

“Do you discuss your menstruation or ovulation with them? Why would they, Y/N? It’s kind of a personal thing.”

Y/N flinched, once again struck by Ben’s ability to cut to the chase when she was being a little ridiculous. 

“Fair, I suppose,” Y/N squeaked. “I mean, I thought the scenting was a tricky subject to breach.”

“Well, if you’re curious about it, you could always just ask Yoongi or Seokjin, if you’re feeling especially bold,” Ben said, with a teasing lilt. Y/N was a touch mortified. “They love you, they’re not going to shy away from that conversation. I’d avoid bringing it up to that elk hybrid of yours, I think he’d make fun of you more than I am.”

“Another valid point,” Y/N muttered, not wanting to give Jeongguk another round of ammunition to amuse himself with at her expense. “Whatever. Whatever! Maybe I’ll ask Yoongi or Seokjin, or maybe I’ll just wait until they bring it up. I feel like I’ve got bigger fish to fry at the present.”

“I’m sure. You got hybrids, ghosts, and romantic feelings for all of your housemates. You’d make millions on reality TV.”

“Thanks, Ben. Remind me to drop your call next time.”

“See you at brunch on Sunday!” Ben signed off cheerfully, Y/N rolling her eyes and throwing her car in drive.

A slightly-cloudy sky peeked through the windows of the house the day of Yoongi’s birthday. Y/N had shown him, as well as Hoseok, off that morning, the two of them bound for the rec center. The fox hybrid was trying to get Yoongi to wear a pointy birthday hat that was leftover from his birthday, but Yoongi scrambled towards the car before Hoseok could slap it on his head. 

Y/N had only a few hours to practice her new composition before Yoongi would be back and they’d head out for the dinner reservation she made, so after downing some coffee while staring at Jimin cutting down some dead saplings in the backyard, she made her way to the music room. Feeling somewhat stealthy with the sheet music tucked under her arm, she passed by Seokjin’s room, the pipes in the wall clanging together telling her he was probably bathing. 

The feeling of sitting at the piano bench without Yoongi beside her had Y/N frowning. She had grown ever so attached to his warmth and presence, his gentle, reassuring guidance while she’d play. Huffing, she placed her sheet music on the stand, rolling her wrists like Yoongi would, and began to practice. 

For her first composition, it wasn’t half bad. It was nowhere on the level of what Yoongi could come up with, but he had years of composing on her, so Y/N tried not to compare herself to him too harshly. Once again, she changed the ending of the song with her lip tucked between her teeth, worried that she might not ever get it right– on top of that, she still hadn’t picked a name for the piece and she was running out of time. 

She was in the middle of playing through the song a sixth time when she was interrupted by the jiggling of the music room’s handle. Before sitting down at the piano, Y/N hadn’t locked the door just in case someone wanted to come and find her, so with minor embarrassment, she halted her playing, glancing at the door expectantly. When the door swung open, she held her breath, recognizing the curly head of black hair right away, a shard of ice piercing through her heart. 

Taehyung’s steps into the room faltered, headphones askew on top of his head, as soon as he caught scent of her and realized he wasn’t alone. Beautiful eyes going round, his rounded ears flattened while a feral rumble of shock rolled through his chest, going quite still. Gawking at each other, Taehyung’s mouth dropped open, eyes shifting from her to the collection of CD’s on the shelf. Fingers frozen over the ivory keys of the piano, she watched the Kodiak hybrid inch towards the shelf with urgency, probably trying to get the hell out of dodge. Y/N’s body moved before her mind did, launching her off the bench and across the room. 

“Tae, hi,” she blurted, knowing that he could hear her with his Kodiak set of ears, the rounded brown appendages fluttering with the sound of her voice, a Nirvana CD clumsily slipping out of his grasp and clattering to the floor. “Whatcha up to? I didn’t know you were home.”

Taehyung, moving like he was stuck in molasses, slid the headphones off of his ears to hang loosely around his neck, facing Y/N fully. Quickly, she ducked down, scooping the CD off the floor and offering it to him with a friendly expression. Her heart was pounding, ready to bite the bullet and have a real conversation with him no matter what it took. Taehyung’s shoulders relaxed downwards a few inches, his sweater slipping over his wrist as he took the CD, switching off the device he had clipped to his jeans. 

“They didn’t need me at the rec center today,” was his response, swallowing. “I just decided to stay here… I thought you had work on Thursdays.”

“I usually do, but I took today off!” Y/N watched Taehyung nod, his tongue prodding the inside of his cheek. With the direction of the conversation already, Y/N was feeling queasy; and with the way that he kept glancing at her chest, she could tell he could hear her heart threatening to burst into pieces. “Uh… come here, look! I wanted to show you some pictures I took this week around the shop. The town square looks so pretty right now, the grass is just starting to get green!”

Y/N thought on her feet, grasping for Taehyung’s wrist, which he let her take as well as tow him to the leather loveseat, apparently too stunned to protest. There was electricity zapping through the hand wrapped around his sweater-clad wrist, and considering she hadn’t touched Taehyung in so long, it had her emotions kicking into overdrive. 

“Y/N…”

“Sit here, please? I’ve wanted to show you for a little while. It won’t take long!” Y/N hoped her tone wasn’t dripping with utter desperation, but something flickered in Taehyung’s carmine eyes, softening them, so he heeded her request and sat beside her stiffly. 

Squirming in satisfaction– the small victory boosting her confidence somewhat– she flicked through her phone, still holding onto Taehyung all the while. Finding the folder of amateurish shots of around her workplace, she placed her phone in Taehyung’s limp, open palm, the Kodiak hybrid’s sharp canines biting down on his lower lip. 

“Do you want me to do a shoot here?” Taehyung asked with confusion, his deep voice making her shiver imperceptibly. 

Y/N peeked at him out of the corner of her eye, chest squeezing painfully at the sight of his gorgeous face, entirely focused on the pictures he was scrolling through. Dropping her gaze, she briefly glanced at his neck, the bruises she saw there days ago long since faded. However, the memory in her mind’s eye remained, drying up her mouth. 

“Would you want to? I can take you there soon, the cherry blossoms in the courtyard will bloom in the next few weeks,” Y/N prayed they were moving a step forward, Taehyung humming lowly, continuing to scroll through her camera roll. Y/N had nothing to hide, so she let him, hoping to continue chit-chatting. 

“Yeah, maybe when the flowers bloom, then. For the spring expo.”

“Sounds like a plan, Tae,” Y/N hesitantly leaned her shoulder into his, her hip colliding with the CD player strapped to his belt. “Ooh, any music recommendations for me lately?”

Taehyung’s chest rumbled again, the sound animalistic and raw, and Y/N wasn’t used to hearing it so often those days. Resisting the desire to tuck some of his curls behind his ear, Y/N waited for a reply, Taehyung avoiding eye-contact by examining the pictures on her screen. 

“I’ve just been listening to grunge, like always. Someone showed me an artist named Mac Demarco recently, which you might like.”

“Oh! I’ve heard of him. An indie artist, right?” Y/N wondered who exactly showed him new music, itchy jealousy crawling all over her skin.

Taehyung didn’t answer, his thumb stilling over the touchscreen of her phone, intensely staring at the picture he paused on. Curious, Y/N peered over his shoulder to see what captured his attention so thoroughly, a tiny squeak leaving her mouth at what she saw. Taehyung had scrolled so far through her camera roll that he reached the mirror selfies she had taken the night of Hoseok’s birthday, after she finished her makeup and shimmied into her dress. 

Originally, she sent the pictures to the Santos twins, but she never intended for other eyes to see her so scandalously posing in front of her bathroom mirror, so she was definitely mortified that Taehyung was gawking at them, Y/N clearing her throat sharply. Taehyung wasn’t broken out of his trance until she repeated his name several times, her phone clattering to his lap as his eyes focused on her again, his irises dark and predatory. 

“Taehyung, um. I wanted to talk to you. Last weekend, when you came home from the rec center… I was short with you. I’m sorry,” Y/N’s palms were sweating, Taehyung’s expression surprisingly not wiping blank like she expected it to. “I hope I didn’t imply that you need to tell me where you are at all times, or felt like I was coming down on you or upset with you.”

“I– um, I didn’t think that,” Taehyung’s voice was rough, the corners of his mouth turning down as he angled his body towards her. 

“Oh, okay. Again, I just wanna stress, you don’t have to ask me for permission to go where you want, alright? I miss you, though, Tae.”

Taehyung’s mouth dropped open, his eyes darting around the room like he was trying to find a response written on the wallpaper, bouncing his thigh up and down. 

“Miss you too,” Taehyung admitted quietly, winding the hem of his sweater around his finger tips. “A lot.”

Y/N’s eyes began to sting, the raw vulnerability coming off of him in that moment tangible and heavy. His words were profound to her, and if anything, it gave her courage. Not knowing if she’d ever be brave enough again to hurtle off the edge of no return, she reached for Taehyung’s hand, tracing a thumb over the vintage silver ring on his index finger; this time, Taehyung was the one to shiver. 

“Uh, so Tae. Hm. You know…”

Bzz. Bzz. Bzz.

Taehyung’s phone was ringing in his pocket, but he promptly ignored it, so Y/N scratched the back of her neck in embarrassment, attempting to continue when the buzzing stopped. 

“Right. So, you know I really care about you–”

Bzz. Bzz. Bzz. 

Grimacing, Taehyung dove his free hand into his pocket when it began to go off again, sending the call to voicemail blindly, Y/N losing confidence by the second. 

“Y/N?”

“Oh, yeah. Sorry. I just wanted to tell you I really care for you, and we haven’t spent a lot of time together lately, but I need you to know–” Bzz. Bzz. Bzz. “Why don’t you get that? It seems like it might be important.” Y/N swallowed down the last of her declaration: I need you to know I love you. 

Ticked, Taehyung dug his phone out of his pocket, Y/N catching the caller ID before he picked up. Someone named ‘Diana’ was eagerly trying to reach him, ice water being dumped over Y/N’s flame, her heart stopping dead in her chest when Taehyung let go of her hand and answered the phone. 

“Di, what’s up?” Taehyung held a finger up to Y/N, jaw tense, Y/N flinching at the sound of a raspy female voice coming through the phone pressed to the side of his face. 

It was like she had become a balloon rapidly deflating, like the string tying it together was pulled free. Palm tingling now that Taehyung’s hand wasn’t resting in hers, she sat there completely flabbergasted.

“No, I’m not coming by the rec center today, Di. I’m developing the photos we took in the darkroom at my house, they’ll be ready next week. I don’t know if I’ll see you this weekend…”

Y/N had heard enough. Knees knocking together, she stood from the couch, Taehyung’s eyebrows pulling together in confusion, ignoring Diana’s whines on the other line. Speedily collecting her sheet music from the piano, she gave Taehyung a wave and a half smile. 

“You finish your call, I gotta get ready for Yoongi’s birthday dinner tonight. Talk later?” Y/N was proud that her voice wasn’t shaky or full of pain, Taehyung blinking at her and his expression finally wiping blank again. He gave her a thumbs up, looking out the window as she left. 

“Yeah, I know Di. I saw you last weekend, though.” Taehyung’s tone was beyond agitated as she shut the soundproof door, not wanting to spend one more second listening in on the conversation. 

She was there, right there. About to tell Taehyung how she truly felt about him, to push past all of the angst between her and him, all for her hopes to crash around her with an interruptive phone call. Any confidence she had to confess her feelings to him was dashed and divided as soon as she heard the Kodiak hybrid call the woman on the phone Di. Taehyung had never given Y/N a nickname before, and that realization had her thinking that perhaps she had overestimated how he felt about her. Perhaps, to him, she was his guardian, someone off-limits romantically, someone that he would deem inconceivable to have those sort of feelings for. Y/N was the type to race, barrel, and fly into conclusions, so she had no trouble believing these spiraling thoughts as she locked herself in her bedroom.

Running her fingers through her hair, yanking the roots, she tried to take deep, centering breaths, like the ones Namjoon taught her how to do. Thankfully, after a few rounds of clutching her bedpost and breathing like a yoga instructor, it seemed to do the trick. Staring at herself in her vanity mirror, she came to one more, positive, at least, conclusion: at least Taehyung wasn’t upset with her, and perhaps he wouldn’t be so avoidant anymore. 

Sighing raggedly, she checked her watch, swearing colorfully. Yoongi would be home shortly, so she’d have to move her ass like it was on fire to get ready for the dinner reservation she planned. Putting Taehyung out of her mind, as difficult as it was, she changed gears when she glanced at the silvery dress she picked up for the occasion, which happened to be one of Yoongi’s favorite colors. While she was turning on the shower tap, her phone chimed in her pocket, Y/N forgetting that she managed to swipe it out of Taehyung’s lap when he answered Diana’s phone call. 

Yoongi 👼🏻: On my way home. 

Y/N: Okay, birthday boy ❤️

Yoongi 👼🏻: 🙄❤️

Surprisingly, there was about half an hour to spare by the time Y/N had finished getting ready. Throwing a light sweater over the satiny dress she pulled on– mostly to prevent Seokjin from having a stroke that she was scantily dressed in early spring weather again– she made sure her hair and makeup was how she wanted it and set out to find her leopard hybrid. 

In the hallway, the scent of greasy pizza hit her square in the face. Suspecting that Hoseok probably had Yoongi stop by Sal’s for some dinner before she and the leopard hybrid left for the night, the sounds of an action movie blaring in the parlor had her snickering. For beings with superior hearing, her boys loved to jack up the surround sound. Pausing by the staircase, she could hear Yoongi playing piano upstairs, probably waiting for her. Giddy, she skipped up the stairs, holding onto the old carved banister with reverence. Yoongi seemed to be playing the song he composed for Y/N, making her blush and nearly swoon into the music room. 

Yoongi was seated on the bench where she was perched just hours ago. Dressed sharply in black dress pants and a matching dress shirt, the monochrome outfit highlighted the glimmer of his accessories– rings, bracelets, earrings, and of course, the sparkly chain clasped around his throat. His triangular ears immediately twitched towards her direction even if his face didn’t, his tempo never faltering even when she started heading right for him, a tender smile on her face when she ended up behind him. Ducking, she pressed a soft kiss to the crown of his head, in between his spotted ears, giggling when his tail tickled the bare skin of her thighs. 

“You look nice,” Y/N purred into his hair, breathing in his shampoo. It was then when Yoongi stopped playing, craning his chin upwards to nuzzle his nose into her neck, making a similar purr to hers. “Happy birthday, Yoongi!”

“Ugh. I’m old,” Yoongi complained, his eyelashes tickling the skin of her throat. 

“No you’re not. You’re just 30, the same age as Seokjin,” Y/N poked his shoulder, sliding her palm along his back as she rounded the bench, sitting on his free side. 

“Silly girl, furthering my point. He’s old, too,” Yoongi grouched, ears turning back when Y/N swat at his forearm reproachfully. “Don’t whack me, it’s my birthday.”

“You’re sending some mixed signals about that, angel,” Y/N snorted, feeling his hand curl around her hip, fingers sliding along the satin material sensually. “Excited for dinner?”

“You keep hyping it up, are they going to bring out a cake and sing to me?” Yoongi asked, trepidation coloring his gravelly tone. 

“Oh shit, do you want me to call and ask if they can do that?” Y/N joked, pretending to pick up her phone and dial the restaurant. Promptly, Yoongi snatched her phone away, stuffing it into the pocket of his dress pants. “Kidding. I just hope you like the food.”

“I’ll eat anything,” Yoongi shrugged, pink blush dusting his cheeks as shy purrs filled the room. 

“Wanna play ‘Moonlight Lovers’ before we go? I practiced for you,” Y/N changed the subject, cozy tucked into his side. 

“Did you?”

“Mm-hmm. I promised, didn’t I?” Y/N teased, humming when Yoongi planted a kiss on her jaw bone. To his dismay, she got up from the bench, making haste to the opposite end of the room. “You’re gonna sing while I play?”

“Sure, but? What are you doing, silly?”

“Look forward, angel!” Y/N pointed straight ahead, encouraging her leopard hybrid to tear his scrutiny from her fumbling with a telescope-like device in the corner. Slowly, he did. 

The lights were low, so Y/N was pleased that the projection lamp displayed the image of the pearly white moon perfectly onto the wall beyond the grand piano. For a small fee on the internet, she was able to give Yoongi the full moon whenever he wanted, and he was a stunned, a still figure on the piano bench when she returned to his side, snuggling back into him. 

Y/N didn’t wait for a response to the surprise, instead launching straight into the jazzy first bars of the song with practiced ease, grinning when Yoongi’s sock-clad food pressed over hers on the sustain pedal. Clingy as ever and seemingly recovering, Yoongi rested his chin on Y/N’s shoulder while she worked her way through the first few measures, nuzzling closer to her when she shivered at the ticklish sensation of his ears against her skin. 

The world existed and it was just her and Yoongi, his voice quiet when he began singing the first verse, Y/N following along in her head since she had memorized the lyrics by then. Not knowing where his body began and hers ended, it was a miracle she was able to concentrate playing on tempo. The pace picked up at the refrain just before the chorus, and Y/N pushed past her nerves to join Yoongi in singing. 

And we met under the moonlit sky

It was you, of all, who caught my eye

When you’re gone, I’m incomplete

No one but you

Has been this sweet

And under the moonlit sky

Across seas, you and I 

Never again, will say goodbye

Y/N didn’t consider herself to be a world-class singer by any means, but with the way Yoongi’s arm tightened around her back, she could tell that he liked the sound of it, his own voice cutting off momentarily when she first began to harmonize with him. She played the rest of the song like that, Yoongi still tucked into the crook of her neck, his eyes closed.

Soaking in the moment, something in his chest unfurling and threatening to burst free, he clung to Y/N, spellbound as she perfectly played the last few measures of the song, gentle silence ringing out in the room when she finished. Unable to move, speak, or breathe, Yoongi went limp when Y/N kissed his forehead, letting him process. 

“Perfect,” Yoongi managed, squeezing Y/N around her middle, filled with both nostalgia and joy, the artificial moonlight projected in the room somehow feeling so real. “You really must have practiced hard.”

“What can I say? I had the best teacher ever,” Y/N replied, bashfully, happy to hold Yoongi as long as he wanted; even risking missing their dinner reservations. 

“I’m proud of my student. She’s come a long way,” Yoongi murmured, straightening up but still maintaining his possessive hold on her. Melting at the pure adoration on her face, Yoongi couldn’t help but cup the side of her face. “My mom would have loved you.”

Y/N’s face grew hot, Yoongi felt it under his palm, her lower lip wobbling. 

“Really?”

“Maybe not as much as I love you, but yeah, she would have. You two have the same heart,” Yoongi smiled, not feeling an ounce of sadness like he usually did on his birthday the previous three years. “Wanna know a little bit more about her before we go? We still have time.”

“Please?” Y/N’s expression grew eager, Yoongi finding it adorable, pinching her nose playfully. 

“Her and I lived in a tiny apartment above The Black Lodge, courtesy of the owner– Barry was his name– I suspect that Barry might have been in love with my mom. Barry was old-school, though, and never acted on anything considering a lot of guys his age thought human and hybrid relationships were taboo,” Y/N pouted, but Yoongi shook his head and rubbed circles on her waist with his thumb. 

“Anyways, yeah, we lived in a one-bedroom above the bar courtesy of Barry. My mom always insisted I take the bedroom, and she’d fall asleep on a loveseat in the living room watching old Marilyn Monroe movies. She wouldn’t take ‘no’ for an answer, ever, just like you. She smoked those long, skinny cigarettes and her favorite drink was a Manhattan. My mom could write a song in twenty minutes, I don’t know how she did it. She would sing like her voice came up from the Earth’s crust and flowed through her mouth. And her perfume… she’d always wear something floral to remind her of the spring, when I was born.”

“Your mom sounds glamorous, like a movie star. I bet she was beautiful, too,” Y/N’s voice was dreamy, thick with emotion. She pictured a woman just as striking as her Yoongi, with the same spotty ears and tail, the same lithe, graceful figure. 

“Mm, she was,” Yoongi agreed, distantly wishing he had a picture of her to show Y/N. “Alright, we should head out. You can ask me more questions on the way there, if you want.”

Y/N nodded enthusiastically, thrilled that Yoongi had opened up to her so much over time. There was something so wonderful about knowing someone on their deeper levels, especially a loved one, so Y/N cherished every tidbit of information Yoongi would offer her. Blissfully, knowing truly nothing could ruin her mood, she let Yoongi wait outside and order the taxi while she bid goodbye to the others in the parlor. 

“Y/N, pretty, one of these days you’re gonna catch a cold,” Seokjin accused from his spot on the floor, wrapped in a throw blanket himself, staring pointedly at her bare legs. Y/N simply shook her head, bending low, and kissed his cheek softly, a feline chirp of pleasure leaving his lips and his orange eyes glowing in the dim light of the living room. 

“We’ll be back in a little while. Please don’t eat the birthday cake until then,” Y/N drove that specific point home by looking directly at Namjoon, who was sheepishly gnawing on his fingernails on the couch, his book forgotten in his lap. 

“Pick me up some?” Jeongguk lifted an empty carton of Marlboro reds in the air, tapping it hollowly, Y/N scowling. 

“What’s the magic word, sweets?”

“For fu-” Jeongguk coughed when Namjoon sharply thwacked the back of his head with his book. “Please.”

“I have half a mind to buy you some nicotine patches,” Y/N muttered, accepting a jolty, goofy hug from Hoseok on the leather recliner. “Not to stir the pot, but once again, Jimin. You’re in charge.”

A series of exasperated groans filled the room as Jimin preened at the responsibility, nodding once at Y/N importantly. Taehyung, all the way at the back of the room by the window overlooking the backyard, was busy fussing over his camera, even if his ears were angled to the sound of her voice. 

“I’m the eldest, shouldn’t I be in charge?” Seokjin sulked, his dark ears downturned just like the full corners of his mouth. Y/N simply snorted, knowing he was just pouting on purpose, giving him one last hair ruffle before starting to the foyer. 

“I’ll be back soon, my sweet boys, alright?” Y/N blew the six hybrids a kiss, the various reactions of amusement and embarrassment making her feel warm and fuzzy as she made her way to the leopard hybrid waiting for her on the porch. 

“I used to walk by this place on my way to the barber,” Yoongi remarked when the cab dropped them off at the restaurant, Y/N lacing their fingers together and admiring the way the city lights reflected off of his hazel eyes.

“Oh yeah? The one who gave you crazy haircuts?” Y/N mussed Yoongi’s long locks, smiling at him widely. “Speaking of. Never cut your hair short, please.”

“Why not, you like it like this?” Yoongi smirked devilishly, letting Y/N tug him into the restaurant.

“Yeah, it suits you! Don’t touch it, I’ll be really mad,” Y/N threatened, approaching the hostess’ booth. “Hi, we have an 8:00 reservation under the name Y/L/N.”

The restaurant Y/N found for Yoongi’s birthday was a jazzy hole-in-the-wall, the dining room filled with dim candle light. The place almost looked like a 20’s speakeasy, decked out with cushy red velvet booths, black tables, and old lamps scattered about. Y/N knew where Yoongi’s sight immediately went: the glossy grand piano beside the bar, where a gentleman in a suit was playing something slow and seductive. Still holding his hand, Y/N pulled Yoongi after the hostess, delighted with the intimate booth they ended up in, with a perfect view of the piano. 

“This is a lot nicer than The Black Lodge,” Yoongi said dryly, still glancing around curiously, his nose twitching. “What kind of food do they have?”

“Italian, baby. We’re in the North End,” Y/N giggled, nudging his shin under the table and passing him a menu. Yoongi pouted at her teasing, immediately flipping the menu over to check the drink list. “After we eat, we can get some pastries to bring home!”

“You better hide them from the wolf, he’ll eat them all,” Yoongi warned, though Y/N had to admit, he was right. 

“I’ll just get extra,” Y/N shrugged, the waitress promptly coming by to take their drink orders. Yoongi picked out a red wine, so Y/N went ahead and ordered the bottle, which had him squirming in his seat uncomfortably. “You don’t like being spoiled, angel?”

“Just not used to it,” Yoongi shook his head, his ears flattening to his head in embarrassment. “But… this is nice. You’re pretty good at planning birthdays, aren’t you, sweetheart?”

“I should turn the talent into a business,” Y/N smirked around the lip of her wine glass, the Pinot Noir coating her throat like velvet. “What are you thinking about getting to eat?”

“Hmm… I feel like you can’t go wrong with steak,” Yoongi fiddled with his earrings, scanning the menu thoughtfully. 

“I think I’m gonna get the ravioli,” Y/N announced, stomach already growling, Yoongi’s acute hearing picking it up and making him snort. “Stop laughing!”

When the waiter returned, he mercifully brought bread and oil, which Y/N happily snacked on with her wine, enjoying both the music and alone time with Yoongi. 

“How’s the coaching gig?”

“I don’t know yet. The season doesn’t start until next week, all I’ve been doing is trying to figure out how to make practice plans. I’m not even sure I’m coach material.”

“Of course you are. You’re the best player on your own team, and kids love you. Besides, you taught me how to play piano in just a few months, you’re a natural born teacher, Yoongi,” Y/N shot down his doubts immediately, Yoongi looking away from her, shy. “I mean it! You’re patient, encouraging, and you keep me motivated. You’ll do really well.”

“You trying to butter me up?” Yoongi scoffed, tracking his index finger around the rim of his wine glass, eyes narrowed playfully. 

“Is it working?” Y/N shot back, leaning slightly across the table, getting a few inches closer to his face. “Besides. It’s rewarding to make you proud.”

“Is that right?” Yoongi cocked his head, eyes dropping to Y/N’s hand, where she was tracing the bracelet around his wrist delicately. “Careful, Y/N.”

“I’m not doing anything!” Y/N exclaimed innocently, withdrawing her touch and sitting back with a wink, sipping her wine again. 

“So, everything went well during your thing with the wolf and elk?” Yoongi changed the subject, a wicked gleam still in his eyes. 

“Surprisingly, yes. I wish I could have filmed Jeongguk speaking in Latin for you. It was like watching an exorcism movie,” Y/N joked, Yoongi shaking his head in amusement. “The family moved back in yesterday. Next week we’re going to meet with them and make sure the cleansing and banishment did its job.”

“Well, I think a ‘congratulations’ is due,” Yoongi refilled both of their wine glasses, Y/N giggling when they clinked them together. 

The man who was playing the piano finished his song, the intimate restaurant breaking out in polite applause. Y/N specifically looked for a restaurant like that one, one where diners could get up and play if they desired. It seemed Yoongi was realizing what was going on, an elderly woman getting up from her booth and ambling towards the piano with her martini. Her and Yoongi snickered when the woman began to play ‘Singin’ in the Rain’, vocalizing into the microphone a tad off-key. 

Before Y/N could make a comment, their food arrived, which was a good thing since the wine was starting to make her feel flushed and ready to tackle her handsome date. The liquid courage was something she needed, though, as she began to anticipate the surprise she planned for Yoongi, sneaking a look at him while he was mid-bite of his steak. The meal passed by amicably, Yoongi letting her feed him a sliver of ravioli across the table, Y/N happy that she was able to treat Yoongi to a nice birthday dinner after three years of him likely not celebrating the day at all. 

“Espresso?” The waiter returned to collect the plates once they were done, Y/N nodding, hoping to draw out the dinner just a little longer. Out of the corner of her eye, she watched the old woman at the piano begin to get up from the bench, Y/N digging through her purse and standing, causing Yoongi to lift an eyebrow at her. 

“Be right back,” Y/N breathed, setting off in the direction of the piano before her nerves could get the better of her, sheet music in one of her hands. 

She could feel eyes on her as she approached the bench, clearing her throat and setting the music on the stand, thankful that the piano was similar to the one she had back at home. Clearing her throat, she scanned the restaurant once, finding Yoongi across the room, staring at her with utter confusion and anticipation. Smiling at him, she leaned towards the microphone. 

“I hope you’re all having a nice evening,” Y/N began, trying not to cringe at the sound of her own voice. “I wanted to play a song I wrote tonight for someone special to me, on his birthday. This song is called ‘Soul Recognition’.”

With that, Y/N took a deep breath, easing into the first few measures. While at first, she expected to feel nervous and shaky, the mere reminder that Yoongi was watching her play had her relaxing and getting into the flow. Even though she was focused on the sheet music in front of her, she could feel Yoongi’s eyes on her from the other side of the room– that unspoken connection she had with him the very inspiration for the song’s title she had finally decided on. 

Yoongi didn’t even register the waiter returning with two small cups of espresso, completely spellbound watching Y/N play a song she composed for him. Completely taken off guard, unaware that his mouth was wide open, all other noise in the restaurant dimmed completely while he drowned in her melody. The song was sweet, yearning, gentle, Y/N’s hands gliding over the keys smoothly, and the lights of the restaurant reflecting off of her shimmery dress and making her look like a star. Overcome with an intense feeling in his chest, not unlike the one he experienced earlier in the music room, Yoongi stopped breathing and the Earth stilled on its axis. Something clicked into place as he watched her, something both primal and cosmic, and all he could think about was making her his completely. 

Yoongi didn’t even hear the applause all around him when Y/N finished her piece, the ending joyful and full, all he could do was stumble out of the booth, smacking cash onto the table and urgently crossing the restaurant. Y/N’s eyes went wide, bashful for some reason, meeting Yoongi in the middle. Before she could say anything, her face was in Yoongi’s hands, his lips crashing down on hers desperately, making her whimper in surprise. Y/N could taste something in his kiss, something different, important, and she was floating from it. Not caring about the people watching or the increase in applause at their spectacle, Y/N’s eyes fluttered shut, kissing him back just as passionately. 

Yoongi pulled away all too soon, his eyes glassy, and pulled Y/N into his side, happy purrs vibrating through his chest. 

“Did you like it?” Y/N asked meekly, a little dazed from the kiss, letting him guide her out of the restaurant with haste. Stopping outside, next to a bakery with the smell of chocolate flooding out into the street, Y/N offered Yoongi the hand-written sheet music shyly. 

“It was beautiful,” Yoongi’s voice was thick, overwhelmed. “I loved it. You’re perfect, baby.”

Yoongi cupped her face again, kissing her cheeks with reverence. Her insides igniting, she hummed with satisfaction, his approval and proud tone of voice making the weeks of striking out composition wise worth it. 

“Let’s get those pastries before we go home. You’re not leaving my sight tonight, though,” Yoongi warned her, grabbing a hold of her hand, dragging her to the entrance of the bakery. The way he warned her was full of dark promise, almost feral, Y/N deciding she couldn’t care less about the pastries. 

Y/N hardly had time to place the ginormous box of pastries on the kitchen island before Yoongi was hauling her away, making her squeal as he slung her over his shoulder. The house was mostly dark, but it sounded like a few of the hybrids were still watching movies, so the way the leopard hybrid was so brazenly carrying her up the stairs had her cheeks on fire. 

“Yoongi!” Y/N whisper-shouted, the hybrid grunting and pushing the door to his bedroom open, setting her down as soon as they were inside. “W-what are you– the others!” 

Y/N watched Yoongi close and lock his door, distractedly pushing a towel under the threshold, as if that would do anything. A low, bone-chilling growl ripped through his throat at her mention of ‘the others’ Y/N’s gut tightening at the sound. 

“It’s still my birthday, you’re still going to spend the rest of it with me, right?” Yoongi’s voice dropped an octave, stalking towards her slowly, Y/N backing up until her knees hit the foot of his bed, staring up at him nervously. “Won’t you?”

“Yes, Yoongi,” Y/N whispered, entranced. With the sound of his name coming from her lips, Yoongi had that feeling again, one that was taking over him completely. 

Cocking his head, his gaze dropped to the cardigan slipping over her shoulders, reaching up to push the material off of her, the garment falling to the floor. Shivering at the temperature of the room on her bare shoulders, Y/N swallowed thickly, waiting for him to make the first move. There hadn’t been an instance where she had been intimate with Seokjin or Yoongi while the others were in earshot, and the idea of being listened to had adrenaline pulsing through her veins, shamefully. 

“Yoongi,” Y/N squirmed under his scrutiny, taking in every inch of her in the cocktail dress that left little to the imagination. 

“You’re gonna have to be quiet,” Yoongi sighed, as if the thought somewhat disappointed him, a fingertip sliding slowly up the side of her neck, feeling her pulse race beneath her skin. “Think you can do that?”

“Anything for you,” Y/N admitted without hesitation, watching his expression soften. Deciding to act on her own, Y/N leaned forward up on her tiptoes, wrapping her arms around Yoongi’s neck, giving a soft kiss on the corner of his mouth. “Love you.”

Yoongi shuddered, cupping her hips, letting her kiss him gently, Y/N pouring all the love she had for him into the gesture. He returned it in kind, pulling her impossibly close, swiping his tongue along her lower lip heavily. Y/N was already failing at his request for her to be quiet, tiny mewls falling into Yoongi’s mouth, making him smirk against her. Winding her fingers in his hair, Y/N pressed her body even closer to him, feeling his chest rumble beneath her. 

“Lay down, baby,” Yoongi mumbled against her lips, lightly pushing on her hips, causing her knees to buckle and her to collapse backwards on his bed. 

She watched, heat flashing over her skin, as Yoongi stared down at her, methodically unbuttoning his black dress shirt, the sight of his chest being revealed bit by bit drying up her mouth. Planting her feet on the bed, she brought her knees together, attempting to rub her thighs together for friction, Yoongi’s pupils dilated at the sight. 

“Eager?” Yoongi teased, pushing his dress shirt off his shoulders, licking his lips. He couldn’t deny that he, himself, was nearly bursting at the seams. 

“Always,” Y/N looked up at him through her eyelashes, ready for him to pounce on her. “Come here.”

Grunting, unable to hold himself back, Yoongi was on top of her in a heartbeat, his lips crushing hers, Y/N arching upwards into his chest, tracing her hands all over his silky, feverish skin. Flicking her tongue against the roof of his mouth, Yoongi made a choked noise of pleasure, pressing his hips into hers. 

“I love you, baby,” Yoongi murmured, tucking his face into her neck and sponging the sensitive flesh with kisses, Y/N writing beneath him. “Let’s get you out of this pretty dress, hmm?”

Yoongi sat back on his heels, Y/N sitting up slightly and putting her arms in the air, waiting for Yoongi to strip the fabric from her body. Mouth watering at the sight of the swollen petals of her lips and the glazed look in her eyes, her pounding heartbeat was music to Yoongi’s ears. Sliding his hands up her thighs, Yoongi got a hold of the hem of her dress, pulling it up and over her head, Y/N’s face on fire when she remembered she didn’t wear a bra with her outfit. Yoongi, however, groaned thickly, pushing on her hips again, making her fall back against the pillows with a squeak. 

Immediately, his mouth was on her chest, Y/N biting down on her fist when his lips wrapped around a nipple, whimpering as his sharpened canines scraped over the sensitive bud. Yoongi was usually a talker in the bedroom, but the mood was different that night, like he was trying to taste every inch of her. Gliding her free hand through his hair, Y/N made pathetic, small noises as he had his way with her chest. 

“Y-yoongi,” Y/N felt her lace underwear sticking to her center already, though truthfully, they had grown damp the moment he kissed her in the restaurant. Tongue passing over one of the ridges of her ribs, Yoongi hummed in response, enjoying being completely tangled up in her. 

Gasping sharply, she felt Yoongi cup her through her panties, lips returning to her mouth, his tongue rolling against hers sensually. Swallowing the noises she was making, Yoongi growled at the wetness seeping through her panties, tracing a circle around her clothed clit. Y/N cried out, her embarrassment clear as day on her face when she realized the sound was anything but quiet, Yoongi lowly chuckling against her throat.

“Quiet, baby,” Yoongi reminded her, though he did absolutely nothing to encourage her to actually be quiet when he pushed the gusset of her panties to the side and dipped his fingers between her soaked folds. Hips bucking into his hand, Y/N looked at her leopard hybrid imploringly, eyebrows pulled together as he touched her. 

“Fuck,” Yoongi groaned, easily sliding a finger into her sopping cunt, Y/N clawing at his chest and leaving red scratches in her wake. “Missed this pussy…”

Y/N couldn’t hold back the mewls she was making, especially when he added a second digit to join the first, thumb pressing down sharply on her clit. Tears pricking the corners of her eyes, frustrated she couldn’t be as vocal as she wanted to be, she bit down on Yoongi’s shoulder when he curled his fingers into her G-spot. 

He worked her up slowly, the lewd sounds of her wetness slipping into his palm driving him absolutely crazy. Biting down on Yoongi’s shoulder didn’t work for long as the coil in her abdomen began to tighten, a shuddering moan filling the bedroom, Yoongi hissing and withdrawing his fingers from her cunt, a dismayed whine falling from Y/N’s lips. Before she could complain, Yoongi was pulling her panties off of her body, balling them up, and while her mouth was still open, Yoongi pushed the fabric into her mouth. Eyes bugging out of her head, Y/N was trembling beneath the leopard hybrid, who appeared quite smug that he managed to gag her. 

“There we go, huh?” Yoongi cooed, stroking through her folds again, Y/N yanking at the belt loops of his dress pants and unintelligibly groaning something. “What’s that? Wanna cum?”

Y/N nodded eagerly, Yoongi’s dark, condescending chuckle making her ears burn. Contrary to his question, he didn’t slip his fingers back into her weeping cunt, instead he teasingly traced her entrance, Y/N throwing her head back in frustration. Yoongi was close to losing his own patience, hastily ridding himself of his pants, tossing them somewhere behind him. 

Saliva soaking the fabric of her ruined panties, Y/N ached to take the gag out of her mouth, but Yoongi shot her a warning look, so she simply squirmed on the bed and nearly choked on the panties when he settled his hips against hers, rolling them. Yoongi nearly collapsed at the friction, and Y/N keened at the sensation of his bulge colliding against her tacky core, desperate for him to be inside her already. 

“That’s a good girl, behaving,” Yoongi mumbled into her ear, kissing just below it while a free hand squeezed at her breast. “Don’t worry, I’ll take the gag out soon. Wanna hear you when you cum for me, baby.”

Feeling wetness gushing out of her in response to his filthy words, she tried to implore him to get on with it with her eyes. Rolling his hips against her again, the two of them writing together like desperate teenagers, Y/N ran her hands down Yoongi’s toned back, the leopard hybrid sharply biting down on her clavicle when her fingertips brushed the base of his tail, his hips stuttering. 

“F-fuck, Y/N,” Yoongi whined, Y/N never hearing him sound so needy. Using her fingernails, she lightly scraped through the silky fur, Yoongi finally snapping. 

Shucking his boxers off, Y/N’s mouth filled with saliva as she watched his erection spring up from the material. Distractedly, Yoongi peeled her panties out of her mouth, Y/N gasping for air when he hooked one of her legs around his waist. Again, Yoongi kissed her, a flurry of tongue and teeth, needing to taste her, to consume her. Y/N could hardly keep up, holding him tightly around the neck, the coolness of his silver chain hitting her in the face as he lined himself up. Breath catching, she moaned into Yoongi’s plush lips as he pushed in, his teeth gritting at the tight fit. 

“Fuck, baby,” Yoongi panted, planting one of his palms beside her face for leverage, the walls of her cunt spasming around him as she got used to his size. “So good–”

“Please, please,” Y/N whimpered, trying to keep her tone in check so he wouldn’t gag her again. Yoongi’s ears fluttered at her sweet, ruined voice, the grip he had on her thigh hooked around his waist bruising. “Baby…”

Biting on the inside of his cheek, Yoongi knew what she wanted without her having to vocalize it. Slowly, he rolled his hips, the drag of her walls around his cock intoxicating, both of them breathing heavily into each other’s mouths. It was the look on her face that had Yoongi control dissolving into nothing, the look of complete and utter love, and with a snarl, he tucked his nose into her neck, snapping his hips more harshly into hers. 

“Baby, my baby,” Yoongi moaned into her throat, tasting sweat on her skin. Wild, being driven crazy by the muffled cries she was trying to keep in check with a hand pressed over her lips, Yoongi found himself babbling and unleashing the emotions he was feeling the entire night. “I love you so much. My mate.”

Y/N gasped, and it had nothing to do with how his cock was hitting every sweet spot inside of her, it was his words. Grabbing a fistful of his hair, Y/N kissed him, relishing in the feline purrs of elation he was making. 

“M-mate?” Y/N managed breathlessly, arching into him when his pelvis brushed against her clit with each stroke, his lips in her hair. 

“Mm-hmm. Mate, you’re mine,” Yoongi mumbled deliriously, the pitch of her moans telling him she wasn’t going to last much longer. “Forever, baby.”

With a hand around her throat, Yoongi pinned her to the mattress, the speed of his thrusts picking up, a feral sort of possession beginning to take over him darkly. By then, he didn’t care if the whole neighborhood heard what they were doing, focused solely on pleasuring his mate. With the weight of his palm on her throat and the way he angled the tip of his cock directly into her G-spot, Y/N was clenching around him unexpectedly, the strength of her orgasm taking the wind out of her. 

“That’s it, baby, cum for me, my sweet mate,” Yoongi lightly squeezed the sides of her throat, not far behind her, truthfully. “Shit. I’m–”

“Yoongi,” Y/N’s voice was broken, her skin covered in a thin coat of sweat, and when she leaned up to kiss him again, Yoongi was gone. Hips stilling, he came with a ruined moan, Y/N shivering at the sensation of his hot cum filling her, pressing shaky kisses to the side of his face as pleasure tore through him violently. 

Collapsed on top of her and not entirely sure he could move, Yoongi tried to catch his breath as Y/N tenderly ran her fingers through his hair, her own chest heaving beneath him. The feeling he had earlier in the day, the unfurling of something from inside, he realized what it was the second she finished playing the song she wrote from her. Y/N was his mate, and he admittedly should have figured that out sooner, but the realization had all the stars in his sky lining up. There had never been a time where Yoongi felt closer to his animalistic side rather than human, which he used to be afraid of showing to Y/N. But there she was, accepting of him with wide open arms and unconditional acceptance. His mate could be no one but her. 

“Am I really… your mate?” Y/N asked hesitantly, after several minutes of enjoying post-coital bliss. She didn’t really care that Yoongi’s heavy body was crushing her, simply letting him hide away from the world in the crook of her neck, here he was still mouthing away at the skin. Pausing, Yoongi pulled away slightly, worry creasing his brow. 

“Does that bother you?” Yoongi asked carefully, Y/N blanching and immediately shaking her head. 

“Absolutely not, why would it? I adore you, Yoongi,” Y/N insisted, brushing sweaty hair out of his face. Relaxing again, Yoongi purred, nudging the tip of her nose with his. 

“‘M tired,” Yoongi mumbled, Y/N wincing when he pulled out of her, blindly reaching for a towel on the floor to mop up the mess between her legs. “You’re gonna stay with me, right?”

“Is that another birthday wish, angel?” Y/N teased, Yoongi grumbling and rolling off of her, gathered the crumpled quilt at the foot of his bed and pulled it up over the two of them, effectively keeping Y/N there. “Too tired to quip back?”

“Smart mouth,” Yoongi offered, opening up his arms and looking at her through lidded eyes. “Lemme hold you.”

Snickering, Y/N wiggled closer to her leopard hybrid, resting her cheek on his chest, pouting at the red lines she left on his skin. Tracing them softly, she pressed a kiss to one of the marks, Yoongi’s arms snaking around her middle. 

“Thank you for writing me a song,” Yoongi broke the silence, holding her tight. 

“Thank you for writing me one. It’s about time you had one too,” Y/N replied, Yoongi’s chest shaking with quiet laughter at the response. Yawning, she felt sated, lax in his arms, and while she was in for an interesting morning encountering the others, it was one of the furthest things from her mind. “Love you.”

Yoongi didn’t respond with words, instead, he kissed the top of her head, drawing patterns over her waist until her breathing evened out, making sure she was asleep before he allowed himself to drift off into a dreamless sleep. 

Sunday was the day of the week Y/N had laundry duty, and she was knee-deep in dirty socks. Thankfully, she had a helper with her, even if the rest of her housemates accused him of somehow helping Y/N ‘cheat’ at laundry duty. Grimacing at a particularly dirty pair of socks, she tossed them into the wash, Seokjin helpfully tossing scented laundry beads into the machine with a smile. 

“Did you finish your book for tomorrow’s meeting, honey?” Y/N asked him, Seokjin wrinkling his nose at one of Jimin’s muddy socks. 

“Yeah, it was a pretty quick read this week,” Seokjin replied, a cute grin on his face when Y/N shut the washer’s lid, leaning against it leisurely. “This week isn’t going to be as busy for you, is it?”

“No, thankfully. Last week was nuts,” Y/N sighed, placing the detergent back on the shelf. “I told you I switched around my work days, right? I’m going to do Tuesdays-Thursdays, not including the odd consultation here and there.”

“I remember you telling me, yes,” Seokjin tickled her sides, wanting to see her smile. “Four day weekends, that’ll be nice!”

Squeaking, she felt Seokjin unexpectedly pick her up by her hips, spinning her around and setting her on top of the dryer. Now eye-level with him, Y/N blushed, straightening out the collar of his loose tee-shirt. 

“It will be. More time to spend with you,” Y/N agreed. More time for her to spend with all of them. Seokjin handed her a pair of jeans to fold– Yoongi’s, by the look of them, making Y/N pause and think about her leopard hybrid again. 

Ever since Yoongi called her his mate, there was little else she thought about. Not only that, but it had her thinking about ruts again; when Yoongi would have his, she would be the one he would spend it with. Going stiff, she halted her folding, Seokjin raising an eyebrow at her while he placed a folded graphic tee of Jeongguk’s on the shelf. 

“Something on your mind, pretty girl?” Seokjin’s tail wound around his leg curiously, Y/N jolted out of her thoughts. Seokjin, out of all of her hybrids, was one of the easiest to confide in. Recalling her phone conversation with Ben, she decided to ask her burning questions after all. 

“Yeah, actually. Can I ask you a couple of things? About hybrids,” Y/N twitched on top of the dryer, all of Seokjin’s attention on her at once. He nodded straight away, predictably. 

“Um, how do I put this…” Y/N started, embarrassed. “You know what? Screw it. I wanted to ask about ruts. Is there a specific, um, I don’t know. Procedure to go through? Like if one of you wants a partner to help you through it, who do I contact?”

Seokjin’s neck colored bright red, apparently not expecting questions like that. An array of reactions played across his handsome face: bashfulness, disbelief, and pure shock. 

“I– I don’t know about the others, pretty, but when mine happens, I,” he swallowed, scratching the back of his head awkwardly. “Well, I’d hope that you would be the one to help me through it. I wouldn’t want anybody else.”

Taking a second to process that, Y/N grew hot, Seokjin uttering the last part of his response as if the idea of spending his rut with anyone else was completely repulsive. 

“You wouldn’t?” Y/N clarified stupidly, Seokjin making a feline noise of annoyance. 

“Of course not. You’re the only one for me, pretty,” Seokjin drove home, squeezing her knee. “As for the others… Well, when their times come, I’m sure if they need something, they’ll tell you. Mmm?”

“So… how do you know when it will happen?” 

“Honestly, the instinct, or ruts in general I should say, usually don’t  kick in full-force for us until we meet someone we feel strongly about romantically. Prior to that, it’s usually just a week or so of secluded ‘downtime’, if you will. Mine has never been strong enough to need a partner, but I suspect that will change now that I’m with you…” Seokjin explained, Y/N hanging off every word.

“Because of me?”

“Well, yes,” Seokjin pinched her cheek. “Of course.”

“Okay. That answers my questions at the moment,” Y/N mumbled, skin still on fire. 

Seokjin snorted, recovering smoothly from the bombshell she dropped on him, stepping forward to kiss the tip of her nose. Eyes fluttering shut, she soaked in his clean scent, appreciating the way he never teased her about matters surrounding her lack of knowledge on hybrids.

“Alright, let’s finish up in here. I’m gonna teach you how to make sourdough today, remember, pretty girl?” Seokjin pushed another pair of jeans into her lap, winking. 

The woman standing in front of her, Namjoon, and Jeongguk seemed like an entirely different one from the one in their memories. Ms. Sanders– Erika– no longer had purplish circles under her eyes, her posture wasn’t shrunken, and she flung the front door to her house open with confidence. Stunned, her and her two hybrids lingered on the concrete porch, the woman eagerly gesturing them inside. 

“Oh my goodness. I don’t know what to say. The house is like a completely different home,” Erika rushed out, Y/N breathing in the crisp, fresh air in the living room with deep satisfaction. “I cannot thank you three enough. Whatever you did worked completely.”

“So, everything has been going well since last Wednesday when you moved back in?” Y/N sought to confirm, sitting beside Jeongguk on the couch and accepting a mug of tea from the young mother gratefully. 

“Tommy’s nightmares stopped. Julie’s coming out of her shell again. I haven’t seen a single shadow, or heard any knocking on the walls. I can’t believe it,” Erika gushed, glancing at the three of them like they were her saviors. Jeongguk, beside her, fidgeted in his seat in reaction to the attention, while Namjoon stood off to the side, sipping his mug of tea with pink ears. 

“I’m so happy to hear that. I brought you a few things, just to give you an added layer of protection. I made these amulets for you and the children to wear when leaving the house, and Jeongguk has added some incense from the church to this bag for you to burn as well,” Y/N handed the mother a gift bag, which she accepted gratefully. 

Jeongguk explained how and when to use the incense, and Namjoon answered a few questions about the investigation, but after the tea was finished, Y/N and her hybrids took that as their cue to leave. Erika was in the middle of giving Y/N a very tight hug when the sound of footsteps came bounding down the stairs, making the three of them pause by the door. Tommy appeared in front of them, looking well-rested and healthy, holding onto his toy robot and staring up at Namjoon with complete awe. Y/N watched, stunned, as Tommy threw his arms around Namjoon, pressing his cheek into the wolf hybrid’s stomach, Jeongguk’s smoky chuckle filling the room as Namjoon went statue-still, hesitantly patting the young boy’s back. 

“Oh, I mentioned he loves wolves, didn’t I?” Erika clasped a hand over her mouth, her eyes misty but expression joyful. 

Y/N’s eye caught the top of the stairs, where Julie was leaning against the banister. The teenager nodded, just once, at her and Jeongguk, her subtle thank-you to them. Once Tommy managed to peel himself from Namjoon, the three of them were leaving the Sanders’ home for the final time, the small family waving at them from the living room window as they pulled away in the van. 

“Ow. Shit,” Jeongguk hissed from the backseat, Y/N flinching at the sound of his strained voice and promptly flying from her seat beside Namjoon to see what was wrong with the elk hybrid. 

To her horror, there was blood leaking from his hairline into his face, and he was poking around the base of his antlers again. Or antler, she realized, as one of them had fallen from his head and clattered to the floor, blood staining the van’s carpet.

“Oh my god! What happened?!” Y/N rushed over to him, cupping his face frantically. “Did you bump into something? What am I gonna do?”

Jeongguk grabbed her wrist, grimacing. 

“I’m fine, kiddo. Remember when I shed my velvet? I shed the antlers in the spring. They’ll grow back. It just hurts like a bitch when they fall out,” Patting her wrist, Jeongguk winced when the second antler fell to the floor, more blood spilling onto his forehead. “You can let go, I’m not dying.”

Reeling, the spots where his antlers once were gory and painful looking. As per his request, she released his face, staring at the antlers on the ground. Bending, she picked them up, Jeongguk clicking his tongue at her while he dabbed his face with a tissue. 

“Just chuck those out the window,” he muttered indifferently, Y/N scowling at him. 

“Absolutely not. What if I wanna keep them? They’re pretty!” Jeongguk stared at her like she grew a second head. 

“What, are you gonna make a lamp out of them or something?”

“No, you jerk. I don’t know, maybe I’ll put them on my altar,” Y/N held the antlers away from him, worried he’d try to take them out of her grasp. “You don’t look nearly as threatening without them, by the way.”

Indeed, now the only thing on the top of Jeongguk’s head were his tapered chestnut-colored ears, which were twitching cutely at the sound of her voice. She wondered when his antlers grew back, if he’d look like Bambi, his doe eyes and all. 

“Fine. Do whatever you want with them,” Jeongguk held his hands up, but there was faint color on his high cheekbones. 

“I will,” Y/N stuck her tongue out at him, marching back to the passenger seat. Namjoon glanced at the antlers in her lap with minor interest, amusement clear as day on his face. “Wanna get hot pot again before we go home?” Namjoon ended up really liking the restaurant, and she felt like having a celebratory lunch. 

“With me looking like this? Are you serious?” Jeongguk was incredulous, gesturing to the blood caked in his hair through the rearview mirror.

“Why not? Fits your goth agenda,” Y/N teased, Namjoon absolutely losing it beside her, eyes scrunching up into crescent moons. 

“Goth agenda? Are you trying to push your luck today?”

“Yes,” Y/N sang, noting that Namjoon was already driving in the direction of the restaurant. “And I’ll continue to.”

Yoongi wiped the sleep from his eyes, blindly stumbling towards the music room before he went downstairs for his coffee. He was in the middle of composing something new to teach Y/N, and wanted to retrieve his book of blank sheet music to work on over breakfast. Truly still waking up, he didn’t notice that Taehyung was in the room until he caught a whiff of the Kodiak hybrid’s scent. Pausing at the threshold of the door, Yoongi was surprised Taehyung didn’t flee the room as soon as Yoongi walked in. The Kodiak hybrid appeared deep in thought, the record he was playing on the turntable scratching uselessly on the label, like he had already listened through that side already. 

“Uh… hey,” Yoongi greeted him, noticing the tired look on the other hybrid’s face. Not expecting a response, since Taehyung pretty much avoided him since finding out about him and Y/N, Yoongi shrugged, heading to the piano to scoop up what he needed. 

“How’s Y/N lately?” Taehyung startled Yoongi by speaking gruffly, the leopard hybrid not understanding where he was going with that question. 

“Why don’t you ask her yourself? You live under the same roof,” Yoongi raised his eyebrows, Taehyung snorting sardonically. 

“I don’t think she wants to talk to me,” Taehyung pushed a hand through his dark curls, Yoongi rolling his eyes. Yoongi was fed up with the Kodiak hybrid’s behavior, how it was affecting Y/N, and how oblivious the kid was in general.

“And why do you think that is? You avoid her like the plague. She’s just giving you the space you’re practically begging for,” Yoongi crossed his arms across his chest, tail curling around him agitatedly. 

“I just– I don’t know. I’ve been trying to keep myself busy, I met someone, but she’s…” Yoongi let the wheels begin to turn in Taehyung’s head, trying not to be impatient. “She’s–”

“She’s not Y/N,” Yoongi finished bluntly, not sufficiently caffeinated enough for that conversation. Taehyung flinched like he was electrocuted, looking at Yoongi with alarm. 

“What do you mean?” Taehyung accused, heart racing. 

“What do you mean, Taehyung?” Yoongi threw his hands up, exasperated. “Avoiding her, trying to distract yourself with someone else. You need to just admit it to yourself, or you’re gonna develop an ulcer.”

“Admit what?” Taehyung spat, aggravated, standing and sizing up the leopard hybrid. 

“That you’re in love with her, dumbass.”

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

Please do not repost or translate my work. Thank you!

#bts fanfiction #bts fanfic #bts ot7 x reader #hybrid au #bts ot7 x y/n #bts hybrid au #bts fic #bts au #bts hybrid x reader #bts hybrid fanfic #namjoon fanfic #seokjin fanfic #yoongi fanfic #hoseok fanfic #jimin fanfic #taehyung fanfic #jungkook fanfic #bts smut #yoongi x reader #yoongi smut

[petew21-blog]

Uncle Noah's view

"You have such a nice view from this window, uncle. You can see the whole street from above like some king or whatever. You really must have worked hard to get a house like this. I guess being a lawyer has its perks. And also having a buff sugar daddy that you got yourself, haha. More like, I got myself."

"Oh, here he comes in his fancy car, talking to OUR neighbor. I just hope I'll be able to fool him enough to make him think that I really am you. Gotta make it believable, cause I can't do your job. That would be too hard and I don't have the knowledge or the capacity to do it. But I won't give up this body. I have been drooling over you for years. And your husband even more. But I still think that he wanted to fuck ne back then on your wedding. He was eyeing me the whole evening. Well, if that will be the case, I'll do to him what I did to you"

"Which brings me back to you on the floor again. Hope you don't mind being an old smelly piece of underwear. I really want to put you on right now, but having too much clothes on wouldn't be good for my plan"

"I think you look good, few cum stains then and there from me. Would be funny to turn you back in now to see how you would be covered in cum. Maybe I'll do that once Paul is at work. Gotta have some fun while I'm home alone, right?"

"Those beautiful packs of yours. The ones right here, covered in hairs. Trail of love to your beautiful package. But judging by the way your hole feels now, that you haven't been really needing to use your dick that much. Don't worry, I won't let you down. Can't let Paul have any bit of suspicion"

"I guess you must still have some sort of vision even in this form, so I'll put you ever the shelf in the bedroom to have a clear view over us. I hope you'll like to see your husband fuck your nephew with his enourmous cock. Man, I can't wait to get him inside of me. To feel his pulsating dick in me, riding him, feel him hitting my prostate. Fuck, Noah. Why did you ever complain about your life, I have no idea."

"Ohhh, here comes Paul."

"Hey, honey. I have been waiting for you"

"What a lovely surprise waiting for me already prepared" Paul said as he unbotten his trousers. This is gonna be wild

#clothes tf #inanimate tf

[weird-is-life]

if ur still taking requests, may i humbly ask for a very fluffy Steve Harrington x shy reader period imagine? maybe the reader is really in pain but is too shy to ask for help? and gets embarrassed but Steve is just an angel about it?

Hii, lovely🥰 thank you for this cute request, hope u like it! Warnings: mentions of food, period pain, pet names, fluff, (0.7k)

Steve isn't really thinking of what you might be doing this late Saturday night as he knocks on your door. He is so eager to see you.

You weren't supposed to be together today, because Steve had to work, and you said you didn't feel good. That you were ill.

Steve, the sweetheart he is, wanted to surprise you, and he also got you some stuff to make you feel better. Like a good soup that he absolutely thinks you're gonna love, some sweets, vitamins and so on.

He waits not so patiently for you to open the door, and for some reason it takes you a lot longer than it usually does.

You open the doors, and your eyes go wide, "Steve! Wh-What are you doing here?"

Steve just chuckles at you baffled expression," I wanted to surprise you, honey."

"Oh," you say, not particularly happy about that fact. Steve doesn't seem to notice it or maybe he just doesn't want to notice it.

"Exactly oh," he chuckles. Steve thinks you're going to open the door wider, so he can go inside, but you don't, "aren't you gonna let me in, sweetheart?"

"Stevie, I'm...I don't feel well," you shyly admit, still only peeking at him from behind the door. It looks like you are definitely not going to let him in.

"I know," he tells you softly," that's why I'm here. I came to take care of you. I brought a few movies as well, we can have a movie marathon. Before you say anything i want to state that I don't mind getting sick and....-"

"Steve," you interrupt his rambling. You look at him with pleading and shy eyes. "I'm not sick in-in that way. It's just....It's....I-"

You can't bring yourself to say it to him. Your shyness getting the best of you. You love Steve, but you are just too shy to admit that you're in pain, and that you'd love nothing more than for him to just hold you while you watch the movies.

"What is it?" Steve concerns. He pretty much ignores that you didn't want to open the wider, and comes inside, so he can instantly find out what's wrong.

"It's my....," you take a deep breath in, and tell him as your cheeks go red, "period pain."

Steve isn't expecting you to say that, but honestly he doesn't care that you are on your period. He only cares that you are in pain, and he wants to change that.

Steve gives you a bear hug," have you been in pain the whole day, sweetheart?"

"Yeah," you admit into his chest. You bury your whole face into his soft hoodie, enjoying the comfort and the warmth seeping from him.

"You could have called me earlier. I would have gladly come to take care of you, you know?" Steve kisses your temple.

"Didn't want to bother you," you murmur sheepishly. Cheeks even more red. You suddenly get a pretty bad period pain, wincing lightly.

Steve immediately pulls you away from his chest with sorry eyes," How about you go back to the couch while I heat up the soup I've brought you?"

"You've brought me soup?" You question.

"Of course, I have. I bet you haven't eaten much today, so go lay down, and I'll be right back." Steve gives you one more kiss on your cheek before he dissappears in your kitchen.

Steve comes back a few minutes later with the soup, and your forgotten heating pad you'd left in the kitchen. Because Steve came right at that moment as you were about to heat it back up.

"Here, sweetheart," he puts the soup on the coffee table," can you sit up for me?"

You sit up from your too comfy position on the couch, but your stomach rumbles at the sight of the soup. Steve carefully puts the heating pad over your lower tummy, and it's immediate relief.

"Thanks, Stevie," you smile brightly at him despite your pain.

Steve smiles back at you, and leans in to kiss your cheek again. You can't say that you aren't loving being doted on like this by him.

He always loves on you, but right now it's maybe just a tiny bit more than it is usually.

"Come on, eat your soup, and then you can have the cuddles and the movies I promised you." You eat as quickly as you can, eager to be in Steve's hands.

When you finally get the so much needed cuddle, the pain eases pretty much away just by Steve's gentle stroking over your side and tummy. And definitely from the constant pecks all over your face.

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington

[the-kr8tor]

HIIII KATY I HAVE A REQUESTTTT 🦅🦅🦅🦅

basically hobeebee and reader having a shower together for the first time (NOT IN AN NSFW WAY 😰) but he finds out r likes to having her shower like burning, like scalding hot and he’s like goes to pop into the shower with he and as soon as he’s touching the water he’s just like “??!!,!,?,? OW??” (not like that exactly but yk what im talking abt 😭) and she’s just like “what’s wrong 🧍?????”

SORRY I THOUGHT THIS IDEA WAS SILLY ILY TYYTYY

-🪼

As someone who takes really hot showers this was a blast lmaoo thank you for requesting! ❤️

Pairing: Hobie Brown x fem! Reader/ Spider-Punk x fem! Reader

Tags: no use of Y/N, no specific physical description of the reader, CW suggestive, FLUFF.

ʕ⁠·⁠ᴥ⁠·⁠ʔ

“Can I pop in real quick?” Hobie knocks on your bathroom door, voice muffled, tone a tad apprehensive.

“Yeah, I'm decent!” You yell above the rushing of water, the tiled walls and floors are all misty and from your recent shower. Hair still wet, the strands clinging to your face, you watch yourself in the foggy mirror as Hobie lets out a laugh on the other side. “What’s so funny?”

“You're decent, innit? What are you, eighty?” You hear his muffled laughter once again, you can't help but snicker and shake your head. “‘sides, I've already seen everything, love.” you feel hotter than the shower.

“Why'd you ask then?”

“It's called bein’ polite.” You can practically see his smirk from his tone. With a creak, the door opens and out pops his handsome head. Hand shielding his eyes but his fingers are splayed over, clearly peeking. He grins from ear to ear at the sight of your pink frilly bathrobe. “I was thinkin’ of using that, you beat me to it.”

“I have a spare if you want.” You bite your lip to stifle your giggle at his antics. “Since when were you ever polite?” Turning around to face him, Hobie enters inside. The small bathroom doesn't provide enough space for the two of you. But Hobie doesn't seem to mind as he shimmies himself in between the cold walls and you, who's trapped between his bare chest and the sink.

Face scrunched up at the humidity, Hobie leans as far as the space can provide for you to move away, yet, you don't. He has no idea how but his heart jumps at the thought and the closeness. Just like it did last night. “I didn't know you had a sauna in here.”

“I like my showers running hot.” You take the lead, hand reaching up to wipe sweat off his neck, thumb brushing along gently as he shivers slightly. You don't mention his reaction, he's safe from teasing, for now at least. “The question is, can you take the heat, Hobie?”

He scoffs dramatically, pinky wiping away a leftover toothpaste on the corner of your lips. “Can I handle the heat? ‘course I can, I was born in it.”

You giggle, “let's see it then.”

“Y’know you can just tell me that you want a striptease instead of raggin’ me on.” Hobie leaves your side, eyes glued to your own as he enters the shower. His fingers run along the hem of his pajama pants, your heart thunders in your chest. But Hobie being Hobie, he shuts the frosted glass sliding door before you could see. His roaring laughter echoes around the bathroom, you roll your eyes, bested by the best once again. “Got you didn't I?” He could barely finish his sentence with his laughter breaking through his words.

Tossing the pajama pants at you, you catch it mid air like some fan at a rock concert. “No you didn't. Wasn't even waiting for it.” A lie that he did not believe one bit based on his deep chortle.

The faucet squeaks, ancient pipes rumbling to life. “Yes, you were—!” Once the water hits his skin, Hobie jumps away with a loud high pitched shriek. A stark contrast from his laughter a while ago. “Motherfuck—! What are you a hellhound? This is pure lava, love!” A string of curses, you see his silhouette cling to the walls further away from the searing heat.

It's your turn to laugh, “I'm sorry, I thought you can handle the heat!”

The sliding door opens quickly, steam blocking his form. “Come here, you little—!” With a lightning quick grab around your waist, he yanks you inside the shower.

#request done #hobie brown x reader #spider punk x reader #the kr8tor's creations #hobie x reader #hobie brown x fem!reader #hobie brown x you #spider punk x fem!reader #spider punk x you #atsv imagine #atsv fanfic #atsv x reader #atsv hobie #atsv fanfiction #hobie fanfic #hobie fluff #x reader #fanfic #🪼 anon

[hotcheetohatredwastaken]

Celebration: 88,978 Words in One Day!

Just yesterday, a few other LU writers and I, Hot Cheeto Hatred, hosted our first ever monthly (hopefully) Write-a-thon! This event ran on June 4 from 12 am EST to 12 am EST, with one goal in mind---write as many productive words within that day as humanly possible. Words included in the final marathon count ranged from storyboarding, fic writing, editing, answering comments, journalling and homework---basically, any words that furthered yourself, the writing community at large, or your stories. We utilized either the Discord Sprint bot or self-reporting to collect the numbers at the end. Everyone involved gave it their all, with most of them being present for most if not all of the run time as they were able, and I'm so proud of their dedication towards their craft. Anyways, here's the final breakdown of the numbers below, as well as the awards and titles earned by each participant, as decided by the discord server (and myself at random).

Now onto the awards:

I am pleased to report that @not-freyja (Freyja above) won the "Writer of All Time" Award, pulling ahead with 20,565 of our total words. What an accomplishment! Freyja participated from dawn to well, dawn, and they absolutely deserve all praise and awe.

I'm giving myself, @hotcheetohatred (Cheeto), the award "Writer of Some Time," as I fell behind our lovely Freyja by a mere few hundred words fifteen minutes before the clock struck midnight. Next time, Freyja, next time...

The "Actually A Writer" award goes to @marcusdoodlesalot (Marcus), who, despite the name, DOES actually write, not just draw! Who would have thought. Not Freyja, that's for sure.

The "Early Bird" award goes to @lerikwrites (Lerik), who solely sprinted in the wee hours of the morning (my time, at least). Terrible. Good job.

"Star Commentor" goes to @elle-rosewater (Eliot), because I stole most of her words for the count from my own comment section in the BDOR Prologues. We love you, Eliot :3 Can't wait to see you next month.

"Cheerleader" goes to @la-sera, who gave us much encouragement throughout the day. I stole your 19 words from you saying you were excited to read Estelian's work. Hope that's okay, because I really wanted to include you---you provided a lot, even if you didn't write with us this time <3.

@whumpitywhumpitywhumpity (Dowsemaxxer) earns "Spirit-ed Storyboarder" for all of his lovely, informative talk on Spirit and just what makes him so great as a rather underappreciated LU boy.

Two awards next! "Chief Editor" and "Most Student" both go to @unexpectedstormy (Stormy) for faer work on getting. stuff. done. Fae did a steady amount of work, so proud.

"Editor (of Word Count) in Chief" goes to @tashacee (Tash), who, at reporting time, was scrounging up 100 and 200 word bits like spare change while I desperately tried to do math. I love you, never change.

The title of "Specter" goes to @somer-writes (Somer), who logged in very few sprints, but participated with the rest of us and pulled up at the end with a whole 7.5K words and a bunch of fics to post at the end, with a lot of it being Ghost AU! He's amazing.

The award "Better Late than Never" goes to our resident artist and recently turned fic-writer @estelian-01 (Este), who joined only in the last half of the marathon but managed to pull a whole 4K! Pictures might be worth a thousand words, but Este wrote a couple more anyway.

@across-violet-skies (Riv) gets the title "Mover and Shaker (of Blorbos)" for managing to participate and get quite the hefty wordcount only a DAY after moving. They're a trooper, that's for sure.

@anime-obsessed (Vio/Nene) earns the award "Most Old School" for writing with pen and paper for most of the day. Please go rest your wrist after all of that.

The award "Head in the Clouds" goes to my bestie and beloved beta reader @needfantasticstories (Skip), who spent the day listening to music and writing Skyloft drabbles. I am nervous/excited to see if those drabbles turned out fluffy as a Loftwing, or perhaps into something more angsty.

@noorahqar (Qar), my lovely fragile Victorian wife, earns the title "Chatty." You know why. But you were there nearly all of the run time, and so engaging and encouraging throughout---a blessing to us all. And even then, you managed to pull so many words. I'm impressed.

And finally, @rosehipandroots / @rosetintedtears (Rose) receives the titles "ndskanefnre" (self chosen) and "Birthday Santa." The first was borne of panic of being asked to choose a title---the second of her relentless effort to get her birthday fics done. Great job.

I'd like to thank everyone that I tagged for participating in the write-a-thon, and thank all of you for helping me draft this post as well. If I messed up any word counts or details or pronouns, you want to request a title/award change, or I missed someone, please DM and let me know! The next Write-a-thon will be held on July 1 from 12am to 12am GMT, and we'll be trying to beat our record. Can't wait to see all of you then!

#linked universe #lu #linkeduniverse #linked universe fic #lu fic #lu write-a-thon #write-a-thon #more like #write-a-ton #ya'll did amazing #cheetowrites

[sunflowerdigs]

The thing that irritates me most about this whole ship war is the way it's such a reminder of the enduring strength of white male privilege. Lou isn't even a very talented actor, but all he had to do was show up for 2 minutes and half the fandom decided to forget 6 years of Eddie Diaz's characterization and dedication to Buck. Eddie literally gave Buck his child, but people are saying Tommy is the first person to really care about Buck. Like, I can't imagine a man of color or a woman having a similar effect (I don't even have to imagine the latter, as I've seen how all of Buck's female love interests have been treated, especially those with problematic pasts - seriously, if you couldn't forgive Taylor for what she did to Bobby despite Bobby giving the relationship his blessing, why are you calling on the fandom to get over what Tommy did to Chim and Hen? It's the same thing, but, wait, no it's not, because Tommy is white and a dude and, lbr, the suffering of minorities at the hands of racists and their subsequent inevitable forgiveness of those racists despite the lack of any clear apology has been normalized in media to a pretty distressing extent).

And then in order to try and justify their behavior, I see a lot of people trying to claim Ryan and Lou are the same racially (even as their behavior and preferential treatment of Tommy demonstrates that they clearly aren't). As though Ryan, as a white Latino man, has access to the same privileges that Lou does as a white man, which is bonkers. You notice how no one even thought to question whether Lou was ok with playing gay as Tommy, despite his father's friendship with Trump; meanwhile, I can't go a single day without seeing people assume that Ryan is the reason Buddie hasn't happened without knowing jack shit about him. And don't even get me started on how people often prioritize Buck's happiness over Eddie's even while claiming to care about them both, or how often Eddie is written as insanely jealous in fanfic even though, canonically, that's a Buck trait. Ryan isn't white in the minds of fans, even if on a very technical racial level he is, and that's an important wrinkle in the discourse that I see a lot of people trying to flatten.

#ryan guzman #911 discourse #racism #antib*cktommy #buddie

[thehusbandoden]

He Doesn't Realize How Much he Needs You Until You're Gone Part One- Dabi

A/n: 100th writing I've posted :3

I hope you like it haha.

General info:

Genre: pure angst \\ wc: 2,425 \\ female reader \\ posted: 06/06/24

Warnings!: arguing, neglect, pure angst, crying, yelling, screaming, hurt, feeling betrayed, injuries (reader gets burned- not by Dabi), pushing your partner away (both parties), feeling worthless, feelings being discarded, mention of therapy, thoughts of leaving, thoughts of death, fear of a loved one dying, numbing your emotions, Dabi raging (burning things), leaving, partner being very tsundere, mention of blood (Dabi's tears), regret, guilt, becoming a husk, I think that's all haha. Pls lmk if I miss anything! <33

I will post two endings, one with angst and one with fluff. Lmk if you want to be tagged!

Tears roll down your cheeks as you spam Dabi with texts. You had just gotten into an argument with your beloved when he stormed out, cursing you out.

"Please." You quietly plead, your voice broken with sobs. "Don't leave me."

All of your texts remain unread. All your calls declined. You were having a panic attack by now, yet nothing seemed to get the villain's attention.

Just as you're about to completely lose it, you hear footsteps. Your freeze, listening with an indescribable intensity. The window opens. Your eyes dart to the activity.

Familiar black combat boots peek through the gap, falling to the floor. Your eyes travel up the familiar torn jeans, the worn out t-shirt, the burned neck, the crooked frown, and finally to the comforting turquoise eyes.

You let out a sob of relief as you see your Dabi standing in front of you. He looks down at you, grimacing.

"What happened to you?" He scoffed.

"I-I was worried." Your voice was hoarse and broken from your sobs.

"Worried?" He grunts. "You're more idiotic than I thought." He groans, grabbing the sandwich you made before the argument.

"I-I thought you were leaving me."

"I'm not gonna leave ya. No matter how annoying you are." He scoffs.

Annoying....

Your mind repeats the word several times, your face stiffening as you numb your emotions.

"Sorry..." you mumble.

"Don't start that pouty crap." He scoffs, shooting you a glare. "I'm tired of you being such a bother. I have so much to deal with. Your pathetic emotions isn't on my list."

You quietly fold your arms, moving to the couch. You watch Dabi silently, taking deep breaths to contain your emotions.

"I'm leaving for a mission tonight. I'll be back before next week."

His voice was less harsh, but nowhere near as warm as usual.

"O-okay.." you mumble, fidgeting with your sleeves. He rolls his eyes with a scoff, stomping into your shared bedroom.

~~

"I'm leaving now, brat."

You scramble to your feet, swiftly moving to his side. You lean up, hoping for a kiss as you ever so slightly pucker your lips.

You know your husband. He will notice... won't he?

His cold eyes move down to your lips. He grunts, turning around and leaving. "See ya later, brat. Don't be pouting when I get home, you hear?" He mutters, hauling himself through the window.

He always came in and out through the back window... it would be bad if your neighbors caught a highly wanted villain in your apartment.. hence the sneaking.

You've lived together for over a year now, you've moved four times now.

"Wait-" you call out, reaching out to your husband. His cold gaze burns into you.

"Um- a-aren't you going to... going to.."

"Spit it out, woman."

"Aren't you going to.. kiss me?" You blush. Dabi scoffs.

"Don't expect needles privileges after your attitude yesterday."

"Attitude?! Do you mean our argument?" You protest.

"Here it goes again." He groans. "You're always complaining and refusing to take accountability."

"Thats nonsense." You clench your fists, trying to suppress your emotions. Tears burned your eyes, but you refused to let them shed.

"What's nonsense is your attitude. You can't even keep me around now can ya? Your attitude always drives me off! I wonder why I ever married you in the first place. You give me attitude and then act like I'm the victim. Pathetic."

Tears well in your eyes. You bite your lip. "I won't ask for anymore from you." You whisper.

"Good. Keep it that way." He lands outside, shrugging his shoulder before walking off with an nonchalant attitude.

You close the window, leaning against the wall as you try to slow down your breathing. Tears fall down your cheeks as you curl in a ball, feeling hurt, angry, betrayed, and worthless.

The days pass by as you wait for Dabi to return. You didn't hear from him, and he was gone far longer than he said he would be. Every text was left unread, every call ignored, every voice-mail left un-listened to.

Eventually, you stopped trying. You got a therapist, and ended up deciding on what was best for you. When he comes home, if he doesn't treat you better, if he doesn't even listen or try to change, its better for you to leave. Even if it was just for a little bit.

Days turn into weeks, and weeks blur into months. Many nights you lay awake, doubting yourself. Doubting your worth.

It killed you inside. Your self esteem plummeted. You stopped going to therapy. All you wanted was your husband. Your husband's love, his validation, his touch, his mere presence.

Curled in a ball, you stared at the wall with a blank expression. Horrid scenarios went through your head as you imagine your poor husband alone, injured, and dying.

Tears blur your vision as you imagine him already dead, his loving soul leaving this world without even telling you goodbye. You hadn't even gotten a kiss. Or an I love you.

The tears don't stop. And they didn't as the hours slowly pass by. You felt like ripping your hair out, screaming, hitting, throwing things- anything to get your mind off of your husband's doomed death.

The window opens. Your eyes dart towards the unlocked glass pane. Combat boots pokes through. You gasp in relief.

A worn, exhausted, injured, and in pain figure follows the boots. Revealing your beloved, Dabi. You let out a small sob, launching yourself at him.

You close your eyes in relief as you feel his warm chest, the familiar staples bringing you comfort. As you move to open your eyes you feel a hand to your shoulder, your backside hitting the floor.

You look up in shock, Dabi looking down at you in disgust.

"I thought you said you wouldn't ask anymore from me." He scoffed. You grab your arm, holding it to your chest.

"I-" you start.

"I really don't want to hear it. Just let me rest." He groans. You slowly lift yourself off of the floor, silently moving into your shared bedroom.

You curl in a ball, hiding under the sheets. You hear him walking around outside of the room, silently listening. Tears blur your vision once more. You cover your mouth, tightly closing your eyes.

You shake with sobs, doing your very best to stay quiet. You can't help but feel worthless. Tears stream down your cheeks as you listen to your husband's familiar footsteps, glad he's safe at the minimum...

Hours pass by as you cry yourself to sleep, your stray tears staining your cheeks.

~~

Dabi's POV

Dabi strolls into your shared bedroom. "Oi, make me a sandwich will ya?" He grunts. Yiu don't move, irritating him.

He moves to your side, snatching the blanket. "I said-" he stops as he sees you asleep, tears stained on your cheeks. A strange pain dtabs at his chest. Shaking it off, he drops the blanket.

Staring at you, he gently cups your cheek, pressing his lips to yours in a gentle kiss. He pulls away, caressing your cheek. "I've missed you. Even though you're a pain." He whispers before pulling away.

~~

Your POV

The next morning

You blink open your eyes, rubbing at the lingering sleepiness. Yawning, your eyes lazily run over the room. The curtains were hiding the small bedroom from sunlight, the entire room encompassed in darkness.

Sitting up, you rub your puffy eyes once more. Dabi was no where near sight. Sighing, you absent-mindedly trace the bruise on your arm where you fell.

Your heart aches as you remember your therapist's words. This isn't healthy. It needs to stop...

The door opens, revealing Dabi. "Finally awake, sleepy head?" His voice wasn't the cold growl like last night, but it was no where near gentle.

You nod, timidly. Afraid of upsetting him once more.

"I'm starving. Want to make breakfas..?" This was his way of asking you to. If you agreed, there would be no thank you, for you "wanted" to.

If you said no, he would be irritated for a while. He won't cook, no matter how many times you beg him to while you're away, so he will oftenly go without eating if you're unavailable or refuse to cook.

Biting your lip, you nod. He gives you a short grimace, something similar to a small smile before walking out. Standing up, you yawn, stretching your arms. Your eyes ache from all the crying, but you push that to the back of your mind.

You walk out to the kitchen, beginning to cook. You feel Dabi's eyes on you, but you don't pay much attention. You were guarded, unsure why he's acting so differently this morning. Cautious of unleashing the monster once more.

"Dabi?" You murmur. He grunts in response.

"I talked to a therapist when you were on your mission..."

"A therapist? What for? Did you leak my identity?!" He snaps.

"No, I didn't. I was really struggling for a while and needed someone to help me."

"So you relied on a stranger?!"

"You wouldn't answer. I called, texted, I left voice-mails."

"Oh so you think that your crappy attempt to get my attention justifies getting help from a stranger!? Was he a guy?! Were you sleeping with him?!"

"What?! No! I would never!"

"Then what were you doing with them?!"

"I was getting help for my mental state, Dabi!"

"Oh poor baby, you think being lonely justifies that?!"

"You're being unreasonable. Dabi she told me it was best for me to leave you if you keep treating me like this. I'm telling you this so you can wake up and change. This isn't okay." You snap, taking a deep breath to calm yourself.

"Leave me?!" He laughs. "You wouldn't. You can't live without me."

"You've been making me live without you for months, Dabi. You don't tell me you love me, you don't show me affection, I'm lucky just to have you not yell at me!"

"You're being dramatic." He spits. "You're a spoiled brat. I've been working my arse off for you and you're this ungrateful."

"You've been working for revenge! It's not for me, it never was! I have my own job that pays for all or our bills Dabi!"

"You're listening to a stranger's advice and plan on leaving me?!"

"Only if you don't change Dabi!"

"You knew what you were getting into when you married me, y/n. Stop playing the victim."

"You didn't treat me like this when we first married."

"Keep telling yourself that." He spits, putting his jacket on.

"Where are you going?!" You cry, the food far from recovery, you hazardously shove the pan into the sink, burning your hand. You cry out in pain.

"Y/n!" Dabi yells, hurrying your side. He aggressively graps your hand, making you cry out once more. "Idiot! Why did you hurt yourself like that?!"

"Just leave me alone!" You try to yank your hand away but Dabi yanks it back.

"Stay still!"

"Let me go Dabi!"

"Y/n just sit still!!"

You push him back, protectively pressing your injured hand to your chest. "I said to let me go!"

Dabi's face scrunches up as he looks down at you. After a few silent moments he turns away. "I'm over you and your dramatic act." He mumbled.

Walking to the door, he pulls his combat boots on. "Don't leave!" You cry, coddling your burning hand.

He ignores you, moving to the window. "Dabi! If you leave without us finishing this I'm leaving."

"Go for it. I don't need you. I never did." He sneered.

Your heart throbbed as your beloved husband jumped through the open window, not looking back. Falling to your knees you break into sobs.

You cry over the absence of your beloved, you cry over the pain, and you cry over the dreaded feeling of being completely alone.

You don't stop for hours. It goes on and on until your completely out of tears, numb to the feeling of utter loss. Your hand aches. Your eyes aches. Your heart aches.

It all just- hurts.

You slowly drift to sleep, the cold kitchen floor being the only thing that grounds you from the pain of betrayal.

~~

Dabi's POV

Three days later.

Dropping from the window Dabi nonchalantly glances around the room. It seemed unusually cold an empty. Paying it no mind, Dabi hazardly tossed his jacket and boots towards the front door.

"Y/n, I'm home." He calls, running his hands through his greasy hair, his roots were growing out. Rolling his eyes, he opens the fridge. It was... empty.

"Y/n!" He calls once more, huffing in annoyance. "I get home and can't even eat?!"

No response. "For Pete's sake you petty brat! Get out here!"

Silence.

Anger fills his being before he remembers your words before he left. A strange pain shoots through him, his eyes widen as he runs into your shared bedroom. Everything of yours was... gone.

His heart quickens as he searches the entire house for you. Nothing. Not even a trace. His breathing quickens as he pulls at his hair. Taking a shuddering breathe, he shakes his head.

"You'll regret this y/n... you'll be back and I'll laugh in your face!" He chuckles, losing a bit of his sanity. "I DON'T NEED YOU! YOU'LL SEE!" He screams, activating his quirk as he knocks over a chair. He let's out a scream, lighting anything and everything in sight on fire.

Months pass by. Dabi has turned into a shell, simply surviving. Work, sleep, work, sleep, work... a "good" day is when he remembers to eat or drink. A shower or change of clothes is out of mind.

Walking through the streets, he walks inside the charred apartment. Stepping inside, he closes the door. He doesn't care about his identity anymore, or anything really.

His turquoise eyes scan the apartment, his eyes landing on a photo of you and him. His heart strangely aches once more. "Y/n..." he murmured, his fists clenching.

Falling to his knees, he lets out a broken sob. His eyes burn, tears would be running if they could. Blood drips from his charred tear ducts. He falls to the floor face first, nothing but his beloved wife on his mind.

How could he be so stupid?! How could he be so utterly retarted?! He lost the one thing in this world that actually loved him. Grasping his phone, he dials your number.

Please. Please pick up... please... I need you...

~~~~~

Part two (coming soon) | alt. ending (coming soon) lmk if you want to be tagged!! <33

Dabi's masterlist | Masterlist | Navigation | Tips<3

Reblogs make me smile (bonus points if you tag) and comments make my day!!

~~~~~

Do not copy, repost, nor plagiarize my work. Ask before you translate or use my work in any way, minus reblogging. 

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[kentophilia]

oh my god, they were roommates!

contains: character x character, alcohol consumption, smoking, frotting, anal fingering, sub!toji, dom!nanami, whiney toji, something something bisexual tojinana <3

wc: 2k

a/n: this was only supposed to be a flashback for The Threesome but i got carried away >///< it's my first time writing character x character so please bear with me. gentle reminder that my requests are still open, please read my rules! :3

reblogs and feedback are greatly appreciated!!

minors, ageless and empty blogs will be blocked immediately!

the lock clicked and in stumbled toji and kento, both very drunk and very horny. they sported a fat boner each, feeling too awkward to look at each other despite being roommates for years.

they both took off their shoes and jackets, an uncomfortable silence hanging over them. kento was in the middle of getting them both a glass of water when toji blurted out: “wanna make out?”

the blond man could only nod.

toji had drunkenly confessed to kento that he thinks he might like guys too, in that slurred speech he always has when intoxicated. kento, a heavyweight in drinking and still feeling quite sober, was taken aback but also intrigued. so he stayed quiet.

“ah, forget i ever said anything, i’m just drunk.” toji had waved him off when kento wanted to talk to him about it later. “let's get more shots!”

well, those few shots later, toji had brought the topic up again, cigarette in hand.

“y’know, if i was gay, i’d fuck ya, ken,” he slurred. kento took a long drag from his cigarette, looking at his roommate with raised eyebrows.

“i mean, what's not t’like? y’r handsome, smart, come from a good family and you make people very happy from what i heard.” the black-haired man winked at him and took another swig from his beer. toji laughed boisterously when kento cringed at that last part and its insinuation. the walls were thin and the amount of times they had heard each other fuck was astronomical.

“thanks, toji. but who's saying you’d do the fuckin’?” kento retorted, causing toji to swiftly choke on his beer. when their gazes met, the tension started to rise, a spark waiting for a match to strike.

“i ain't no bottom.”

well, that statement was quickly retracted when, in their drunken stupor, kento and toji found themselves on their shared couch. lips conjoined, spit swapped and toji whimpering under kento's touch. toji was trapped under kento’s large build, his thick legs wrapped around the other’s waist and hips seemingly having a mind of their own.

toji leaned back, panting, “i've never had anything in my ass before, not even a finger.”

“y’sure you don't wanna try? feels good from what i heard,” kento murmured against toji’s wet lips. toji was flushed, crimson rising from his chest to his cheeks to the tips of his ears. “you tried it?” he whispered, scared to talk any louder.

kento nodded, pulling his shirt over his head. “only on my own though, but it did feel nice. and my gay friends can't seem to get enough of it, so there must be something to it.” he delved down to toji’s jaw, leaving gentle kisses in his wake.

toji whined, feeling out of his element since he usually did that part. taking care of someone, their pleasure, making them flustered and see stars. it was embarrassing for him to be in that position but not necessarily unpleasant. kento’s lips against his scorching skin felt… really good, actually. his hands were everywhere, on kento’s shoulders, in his hand, on his back, his hips, his—

toji sobered up very quickly there, apologizing profusely when he was interrupted by kento gently taking his hand, cold into warm, and placed it on his heavy bulge. he then placed his own on toji’s, forcing a whimper out of the mean-mugged man at the friction.

“it's okay. you can always say stop and we’ll stop. i won't do anything you don't want, toji. i just wanna make you feel good. because i am.”

as those words left kento’s lips, toji pulled him down, their lips crashing together once more. as their tongues danced around each other, toji pushed kento back, straddling him. he felt like he was going to explode, arousal thickening his blood to the point where toji couldn't think straight anymore.

they only parted for toji to almost rip off his shirt out of nervousness. as soon as the fabric was gone, he dove right back in, teeth clacking against kento’s. the blond man chuckled at toji’s eagerness. it was a little awkward, big hands and muscles everywhere but neither complained. the seams of their jeans created the most delicious friction on their restrained cocks.

“kentooo…feels so good,” toji whined, drool threatening to spill out of his mouth. kento could only watch with half-lidded eyes, watching intently where their clothed bodies met. he never in his wildest dreams would've thought that toji, his roommate, one of his closest friends, the loudest, rudest and most confident man he knew, would fall apart like this.

the heat between them felt like an impending supernova and they shed themselves of their clothes, trying to combat it. sure, they'd seen each other naked at home on accident – more or less – and after practice in the showers. but still, seeing toji’s build – and cock – right in front of his face made kento flustered. little did he know that toji felt the same.

the latter got comfortable on kento’s lap again, their dicks touching and twitching against each other. a warm hand wrapped around their lengths and kento started a slow jerking motion. a simultaneous groan of “oh fuuuck” erupted from their chests, their hips moving in tandem. toji let drool run down his lips onto their cocks, lubricating whatever kento was doing to him. toji didn't understand, mind too hazy from the alcohol and the arousal rushing all the way down to his dick.

“ken, please,” toji whimpered, “more.”

kento could only oblige, how could he say no when he was asked so nicely, all breathy and desperate?

he moved his hand faster, the friction becoming almost too much to bear. toji’s spit and their precum made it more slippery, adding to the intoxicating rush.

toji gripped kento’s shoulders, nails leaving indents with the ferocity he was holding onto the other man and kento groaned. the blond man leaned forward, lips attaching to toji’s collarbone, sucking on the damp skin.

“need, haa… need more, kento. please, wanna try it,” the raven-haired male whimpered, the alcohol making it hard to finish without added stimulation. kento could barely make out the words. but when his brain finally registered them, he gasped and gripped toji's face, squishing the latter’s cheeks. the hand that was currently jerking them off halted and toji cried out.

“what'd you say?” kento inquired, heart and mind racing.

“mmm – wanna try it. wanna have your fingers in me, please?” toji begged through smushed cheeks. kento paused, trying to sober up and bring himself back to earth. there were tears making their way to toji’s dark eyes at the silence that settled between them. scared that he'd asked too much of his roommate, toji tried to wiggle out of kento’s grasp, but to no avail.

“let me get some lube then.” kento’s gentle voice reached toji’s bright red ears and he was gently pushed off the other’s lap and onto the soft couch before kento sprinted to his room. he emerged soon enough, a small bottle in his hand.

“it'd hurt without it,” he mused, awkwardly wiggling it between his fingers. toji let out a huff through his nose, shuffling around. “how d’ya want me?”

they were back to their original position, kento hovering above toji, lube being warmed up between his fingers. toji spread his legs, looking away with a burning blush as he exposed himself.

kento gave him a warm smile. “you sure you wanna do this? and with me?”

toji gave a nod, his blush intensifying. “yeah. if anyone puts a finger in my ass, i'd want it to be you. and we already got this far,” he grumbled, feeling even more exposed under kento's attentive gaze. the blond man breathed out an “okay” before leaning back on his haunches. “i've never done this to another person before either so we're somewhat in the same boat.”

toji laughed, “oh yeah, totally the same thing.”

kento cringed at himself and got more comfortable, putting a throw pillow under toji's hips for more leverage. one hand was spreading the cheeks while the other found toji’s twitching hole, spreading some lube onto it. toji flinched and relaxed immediately, the sensation so unfamiliar to him. kento circled his finger around it, registering toji’s noises and reactions.

pushing past the tight ring of his entrance, toji let out a pornographic whine. one that made him slap his hands on his mouth out of embarrassment. kento smiled, peeling them off. “there's no one here, keep ‘em comin’.”

toji didn't know what to do with his hands, fingers twitching and rummaging to find something, anything to hold on to while kento provided him with pleasure. it was so unfamiliar, a little sting at the stretch but it felt so good. kento started thrusting his finger in and out of toji’s hole, his mouth agape and sweat running down his temple. toji started moaning unabashedly, eyes threatening to close but the need to watch kento was stronger. he was so focused on the way toji’s hole was sucking him in and toji swore he could feel his heart flutter.

kento started pushing in a second finger gently, feeling the resistance of toji's hole and slowly but surely edging it away. the black-haired man squirmed, gasping, “oh fuck, oh fuck!” at every gentle thrust.

kento started curling his fingers, seemingly looking for something in toji’s velvet walls. “digging for gold?” toji giggled and suddenly whimpered when kento pressed against a certain spot, precum running out of his swollen tip. “found it,” kento chuckled.

“wh-wha…what's that?” toji questioned, barely able to string a cohesive sentence together due to the white hot pleasure burning through his body.

kento grinned, adjusting their positions without pulling out, toji straddling him again on wobbly knees. “it's your prostate – s’posed to make ya feel really good,” kento murmured, still moving his fingers slowly. toji whined and started moving his hips, desperately trying to find that kind of pleasure again.

kento gripped both of their cocks again, a low moan emitting from his throat at the friction. toji kept grinding on his fingers, the ecstasy multiplied by kento’s warm hand and their cocks twitching against each other. “that's it, keep moving,” kento ordered and toji obliged, chasing his orgasm. the blond man started increasing the pace on his jerking, every tug more delicious than the last.

kento felt himself grow close. toji’s hole warm and clenching around his fingers, the cock hot and heavy against his and the sinful whimpers right in his ear had him spiraling quickly. he curled his fingers again, pressing against toji’s prostate and keeping the rough pads of his digits right there. toji reacted immediately, almost shouting at this point, white flashing behind his eyelids. his eyes were screwed shut, loud moans of “please, please – gonna cum” echoing in kento’s ears. he stored that away for later.

“go ahead, cum for me, toji,” kento whispered loud enough for the other to hear. toji’s burning gaze found his as he spilled all over kento’s hand, hole clenching and unclenching almost as rhythmically as his heart. a moan of kento’s name spilled from toji’s spit-slicked lips as he rode out his high, effectively pushing kento towards his. expletive groans left kento’s throat as he made an even bigger mess of them both, slowing down both of his hands as the overstimulation set in.

he let go of their softening cocks and pulled out his fingers with a lewd squelch, feeling toji slump against him. he quickly wiped his hands on the shirt that was thrown over the backrest before returning his touch to the man on top of him.

“i would've done this sooner if i’d known how good it is,” toji mumbled sleepily against kento’s shoulder. the latter chuckled and patted the damp black hair. “you always know better afterwards.”

“you know what would've made it even better?” toji murmured, heartbeat slowing down and drowsiness taking over. kento hummed in question.

“having a girl sit on my face.”

that was the last thing toji said about it before dozing off and kento struggling to get him into bed. though, he kept that information safely hidden in the back of his mind.

they never mentioned it again after that, acting like nothing had changed. but the underlying sexual tension never truly left their friendship.

tags: @nkogneatho @kentocidal @the-masked-ram and thank you to @teddybeartoji @togamest and @cockaiine for proofreading :3 mwah! @houseofsolisoccasum @interstellar-inn

© kentophilia 2024 — all rights reserved. please do not plagiarize, translate or steal any of my works.

#✮⋆˙ salem writes #house of solis occasum #꩜— interstellar communications #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #toji smut #toji fushiguro smut #nanami smut #nanami kento smut #toji x nanami #tojinana #IDK WHAT TO TAG BRO #cw alcohol mention #cw: alcohol mention #tw: alcohol mention #tw alcohol mention #cw smoking #cw: smoking #cw: ass play #cw ass play

[furiousgoldfish]

The other day, I accidentally witnessed an exchange within a family, that keeps replaying in my mind. It was a short moment; the child of about 7 years old, woke up and came to the living room to sleepily lounge on the couch, his mother was in the bathroom. When she came back, she saw him, and said with the greatest content you could imagine "All of mine are awake!" and then she came over to him, hugged him and affectionately placed a kiss on his forehead. There was such warmth and delight in her voice, like she couldn't imagine anything better than having all of her family members awake and well, and her morning greeting was a hug and a kiss.

I felt like I intruded into something private, so I excused myself away, but the feeling I got seeing it was something foreign to me, I couldn't imagine how it felt to be inside of that family. It was like the feeling of love and togetherness was instinctual to them, something they didn't have to think about.

I think about where I would be if I had that, if positive attention and love was given to me freely, without a second thought, just on instinct. If I was given affection like this just for waking up and entering a shared space. It would have made me feel like it's natural, and normal to be loved, like it isn't impossible, or too much to ask for. Like I was meaningful to someone, if that person expressed delight just from seeing me awake.

It also came to my mind, that my parents would immediately proclaim that this kind of thing would just make me 'spoiled', and I know now, that knowing you're worthy of love is not spoiled, it's supposed to be normal, and it was taken away from me. But then I realized, wait, this is what 'spoiled' meant to them. 'Spoiled' doesn't mean obnoxious, selfish, loud and annoying behavior to an abusive parent, to them a child even thinking for a second they're worthy of attention and love is 'spoiled', because they don't want that. They want a child who retreats in shame and feels unworthy and unlovable, so they can exploit those feelings endlessly. If you know you're worthy of love, and attention, and basic respect, then you would ask for those things, or expect them, or protest when you're not getting them, and they don't want to provide that basic attention, they want to provide nothing. Having any needs at all will be called spoiled because it's an inconvenience for them. They used the wrong terms on purpose, because if they admitted they wanted a traumatized child, that would make them look bad. But saying 'I don't want to spoil my child' makes them look like they're parenting responsibly, all while inflicting trauma with absolutely no thought on how it will affect the kid. "We want a broken child, and we don't care what we have to say to get away with it." is what they meant.

I'm glad I was able to get a glimpse into how it looks when it's not abusive, and how basic attention is given without a second thought, because it is natural, it is normal to want to shower your loved ones with affection just because they woke up, just because you haven't seen them for a few hours. To normal people this is instinctual, they don't have to think twice about it, it comes out in their tone of voice, the delighted look in their eyes when they see you. The fact that it feels like a whole different world to me, is the proof that my parents didn't think twice about taking this away from me, and what it would do to me. I can't even imagine where I would be today if I had that.

#healthy parenting #normal parenting #parenting references #good parenting #opposite of child abuse #references to normal #how normal parenting looks like

[veronae-buddie]

So, since I only rejoined Tumblr recently but have written over 70 Buddie Fics, I decided I would share some favourites from pre-Tumblr days.

These are among my favourite fics of the ones I've written, not necessarily the ones with the highest traffic. In no particular order...

Cabin Fever Bobby treats the 118 crew to a holiday in a mountain cabin. There's just one issue ... it's haunted. At least, Buck thinks so. Eddie isn't so sure. 6.7 k, M

Drugged Eddie A work injury sees Eddie in hospital doped up on some strong pain meds. Confused and dozy, he says some things that Buck just can't let go of. Featuring! That red t-shirt they appear to share now. 4.6 k, T

Pillow Talk Buck agreed, “That leaves you in the bed with me, Eddie.” Snapping his eyes around, Eddie gaped at him. “Wait, what?” Eddie, Hen and Chimney agree to stay with Buck during Covid-19 restrictions to keep their families safe from the spread of infection. But Eddie gets a lot more than he bargained for when he ends up having to share Buck's bed... 16k, M

Insomnia “Were you being serious the other night?” Eddie blurted. He looked wild, eyes round and red-rimmed, feet planted wide as he stared frantically at Buck. He blinked back, nonplussed, and Eddie raked a frustrated hand across the lines on his brow. “When you offered to go to bed with me!” he snapped. “Oh.” Buck took a few steps closer. “Yeah, of course. Whatever you need, Eddie. I’m here for you.” 8k, E

Wicked Games Eddie tipped his face away and burning words burst from him before he could even think to stop them: “Tell me you love me.” A ripple coursed through Buck’s body, his muscles tensing against Eddie’s, before his teeth closed on Eddie’s ear and he breathed, ardently, “I love you.” 4.6k, M

And an honorable mention goes to! Go For the Title HOW IT SHOULD HAVE GONE. “You wanna go for the title?” Buck’s hand was on his belt. Eddie deliberately did not look down. The things that flashed through his mind might not stay safely shut away there if he looked at Buck and his hand on his belt. 1.2k, T

Find all my fics on AO3.

Tagging folks who expressed an interest:

@shortsighted-owl @disasterbuck @serensational @blue-winged-boy @emotionallyencumbered

@gnoeltop @inell @verdimundi @darkrose6578 @littleblackraincloudofcourse

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[lucysarah-c]

Not sure if this is like, allowed to be answered and feel free not to of course. But reaction to Levi finding out someone tried to assault his s/o, or just hurting them in general like a more targeted instance rather than a battle, even before they are partners and could just be friends, you think more of a quick death or Levi would get sorta sadistic?

Have a great one 🐞 and thanks for always feeding us amazing works

Hi dear! Ah, no one has called me "bug" in years!!! Haha, thank you—that was so sweet of you!

Don’t thank me! Thank you for reading and stopping by my blog.

I really like this ask… Maybe because I’ve had a similar scenario in mind for my fic, but I just can't seem to find the right approach to it. I’ll try my best here! I’m 100% a "violence doesn’t solve anything" kind of person, and even when someone is truly horrible, I can't stand seeing them get hurt, especially physically. I’m that "sensitive" type, sorry haha. I feel Levi would say something similar to what my mother always tells me: "Don’t try to be more Catholic than the Pope" (a saying we have in Argentina, meaning "Don’t be too nice because people will take advantage of you. Be a little bit tough when necessary").

So, I’ll be completely honest with you: No, this ask doesn’t make me uncomfortable. But I do believe that Levi would resort to violence in certain situations. Levi killed a couple of guys just because they messed with Isabel’s hair. If his special someone (be it a friend, girlfriend, etc.) got hurt or was assaulted, Levi wouldn’t wait to see if she filed a report or went to the police.

He would simply stare at her and demand, "Who was it? Do you know them? Can you identify them?"

If it happened recently and she still shows signs of the struggle, she might try to downplay it. "It’s over now… It doesn’t hurt that much—"

"I didn’t ask if it hurt or if it was over. I asked who did it," he’d reply firmly.

She might avoid giving straight answers, trying to brush it off, perhaps out of shock, embarrassment, or fear—fear for Levi and the trouble he might get into. "I already filed a report and—"

"Have you ever seen any of those bastards behind bars because of a report?" Levi would counter. "Who was it? Give me a name."

"I pressed charges—"

"I’m sorry to break it to you, but men aren’t scared of charges. They know they can get away with it. They know they have friends who will bail them out, who will erase the charges, who will stand up for them," Levi explained. "Do you know what the only thing those assholes fear is? Being treated and beaten down the way they treat others. Beasts like them only understand their own language."

If the person responsible is someone Levi can’t directly deal with, like a higher-ranking officer or an MP, he’d still find a way to make them pay. He’d beat them up so thoroughly and probably in public to humiliate them. Levi knows the military can't afford to lose him, so while he might not be able to kill them, he’d ensure they couldn't sit straight for a long time. The most sadistic I can imagine him being is if he beats them so badly that they end up begging for mercy. And then Levi, lifting them by their hair, would say, "Don’t beg me—beg her."

Now, if the perpetrator is a regular citizen… they’re dead without a second chance. I can’t see Levi being sadistic in the sense of torturing someone, but he wouldn’t give them a quick death either.

So, that’s it. I hope I managed to write this well enough!

Thank you so much!

Have a lovely day.

Link to my masterlist and my other works if you feel like checking them out. Tags!: @nube55 @justkon @notgoodforlife @nmlkys @humanitys-strongest-bamf @quillinhand @thoreeo @darkstarlight82 @angelofthorr @aomi04 @levisbrat25 @l3visthighs @hum4n-wr3ckag3 @hannieslovebot @starrylevi @rithty @mariaace @ackrmntea @emilyyyy-08 @levisfavoriteteashop @katestrophes @levistealeaf @an-ever-angry-bi @youre-ackermine @fxnnyackerman @secretmoneybearvoid @trashblackrainbow @flxrartsstuff @katharinasdiaryy @levisecretgfblog @searriously @blackdxggr @ackermanswifee @galactict3a @abiatackerman @braunsbabe @moonchild-12345 Wanna join my tag list? Here!

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