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#like i could not wear them and not be itchy

swordsandholly · 2 days

Text

Fancy

Ch 3: The Wheels of Fate Started to Turn

Previous | Next | Ao3

MDNI

Vampire!Poly 141 x Fem!Plus Size!Reader

Word Count: 4.3k

Summary: A permanent darkness rests over the city. You’ve lived here your whole life - in the slums, just another human to be pushed and pulled at the whims of the vampires that run it. Another human made to bleed and crawl their way through a meager life.

Maybe, just maybe, a meeting by happenstance will change your fate for the better.

You feel sick when you wake. Muscles weak and body shaky. It takes more effort than you would like to peel your eyes open. You haven’t sat under a UV lamp in a while and it’s starting to show. The cocoon of sheets feels so good you don’t want to get up, to peel yourself away from them.

You realize Johnny and Kyle are gone as you sit up, all alone in the center of the massive bed. The room feels darker without them, somehow. Emptier. You roll over to climb off the bed, interrupted by the sound of paper crinkling under you. You feel around the mattress only to find a thick envelope with ‘Fancy’ neatly written across the front. As you open it, your breath catches in your throat at the contents. It’s nearly double what they said they’d pay. More than you could have ever hoped for. It makes your hands shake to hold that much money all at once. Once the shock wears off, a folded up piece of paper catches your eye.

Hey lovie,

Sorry to take off without saying goodbye. Had some business to attend to. Figured we should let you sleep. Hope you won’t be too mad ;)

We left a little extra for spending the night. Nothing like cuddling up next to a soft, warm lady.

Let’s do it again soon.

Kyle + Johnny

The handwriting changes to a messy scrawl that you have to squint to make out.

P.S. You look bonnie in my shirt. Gonnae be thinking about that all day. Feel free to take it with you.

P.S.S. I want it back unwashed.

You can’t help but snicker to yourself. Damn dirty dog.

You have no reason to deny him, though. So you slip the t-shirt on over your dress as you get ready to leave. The dress feels far too constrictive for the early morning. This is why you don’t do nights - walking out looking like a mess in the itchy day old clothes. You give up looking for your panties which seem to have evaporated, not too keen on putting them back on anyway.

Before you can tip-toe your way out to the front door, you find yourself pausing. The kitchen light is on, illuminating a figure working over the stove. Curiosity gets the better of you and you circle around the counter to see John sorting ingredients in nothing but a loose pair of sweatpants. Strong, nicely hairy chest on full display.

And they call you and slut.

“Good morning.” He flashes you a bright smile. Of course he noticed you. He probably smelled you before he even heard you leave the bedroom.

“Sorry… I, uh, didn’t mean to intrude.” You mumble awkwardly.

“No, no. I was hoping you’d stop f’me. My boys treat you alright?” He eyes your shirt.

Being asked that a second time throws you off. Why the hell do they care so much? “They did.”

“Good. Good.” He smiles warmly. “I’ll make you some breakfast.”

You scoff. “You? No offense but I’d rather take my chances with the nearest dumpster.”

“Contrary to popular belief, some of us remember how to cook.”

You glance at the half-dozen cart of eggs and perfectly fresh vegetables neatly arranged across the counter. “And you just happened to have human food on hand?”

He pauses. “…I may have had some delivered.”

John turns back to the stove, muttering something under his breath about ‘too smart for her own damn good.’

You pad over beside him to look down at the food, staring at the spread. You point at some red thing you don’t recognize. “What is that?”

He cocks an eyebrow. “The tomato?”

“Tomatoes are purple.” You poke it. “And more squishy.”

You meet his eye and for a brief moment, you think you see pity. Something sad swirling in the blue of his irises. He schools his face back to neutral before you can be sure you saw anything at all.

“Well, hopefully you trust an old codger like me to make you a half-decent omelette.”

You snort, leaning back on the kitchen island. “I’ve got nothing to lose.”

You both lapse into silence. He does seem to know what he’s doing - carefully chopping the vegetables and carefully folding the omelette in the pan. Maybe he had a human wife at some point or something. Most likely. That’s not uncommon, especially back in the 21st century. Practically a trend. You tilt your head as you watch him move, brow furrowed. He’s so weird.

What could you have said to them to make them treat you like this? You’re almost afraid to know - that block of time so buried in the recesses of your mind there’s no hope of ever recovering it. That doesn’t mean you haven’t tried since that day, but you know we’ll enough that it never works. You don’t have a single guess as to what it could have been.

Maybe you didn’t say anything. Maybe they’re just weirdly tunnel visioned. Vamps do that often enough - hone in on a target of affection. For any reason from looking like a dead loved one or they just have an enticing scent. Except they’re not usually this… nice. Normally they’d just drain the object of their affection and be done with it. Not ask them to sleep over for the night and cook them breakfast in the morning.

You’re pulled from your thoughts when a plate is set in front of you. It looks… perfect. At least you assume that’s what a good omelette looks like. Nicely golden. It looks alien. Food from another world - another time. You glance up at John as he watches you expectantly. It won’t hurt to entertain him, you suppose. Even if it does end up being shit. You cut a small bite, tentatively bringing it to you your lips. You brace for something awful.

Except it’s incredible. Perfectly cooked and seasoned. You can’t help but let out a content little hum before practically scarfing it down. You haven’t had food like this in… ever, actually. Neither this fresh or well made.

“So you like it?” John smiles.

You nod happily with a mouth full of food before remembering where you are. Steeling yourself and slowing down, returning to the more reserved persona. “It’s good.”

John huffs out a laugh, turning his back to you to clean up. “I’ll drive you home when you’re finished.”

You pause mid bite. “Oh, no, I can take the train-“

“Do you really want t’walk all the way to the depot in those heels?” John cocks an brow, blue eyes dragging from your face, over your body and down your legs. There’s a slow burning intensity in the movement that sends a shiver down your spine.

You stare at him for a moment, uncertain of what to do. The last thing you need is to owe a vampire for anything. They’ll take your debts to the grave. It happened with your neighbor once - you learned early on to be wary of any offer made by one of them. Never make a deal with one of the devils.

“You won’t be indebted for it.” John chuckles as if he can read your damn mind. Maybe he can.

You chew your lip. It’s at least an hour walk to the metro station from here. You don’t want him to see where you live, though. It will ruin the illusion. Images flash through your mind of the craggily walls of your apartment building. The syringes that line the sidewalk. There’s that massive blood stain on the front steps they still haven’t cleaned up after five years.

But then you meet his eyes. They’re so sincere. So bright. Whatever that tug is in your chest that keeps giving into them pulls again. It’s unraveling you, making you insane. Surely that’s it, you’re finally going insane.

“Okay.” It comes out weaker than you’d like.

John grins a though you gave him the greatest gift in history. It makes your face hot - leaves you shifting awkwardly. You’re not used to that much emotion carved into their marble features. This coven is too expressive. It’s putting you on edge, leaving you with your guard up. Against what, though? What’s the point? Shouldn’t you be happy and play into their more excitable nature?

It’s too unfamiliar. Too otherworldly to see human emotion on their god like features.

A cool finger hooks under your chin, lifting your face to meet John’s gaze. “You think too much.”

You scoff and tear your face away from his hand. Thinking keeps you alive. The girls that don’t think don’t survive past their teens. You have to be smart to stay alive here. To even have a hope of keeping up with creatures who contain centuries of knowledge and experience. Who are so far ahead in the race the best you can do is limp along in the dust.

A valet pulls the car around. John changed into jeans and half zip sweater. You would die before admitting to the small bit of disappointment at him donning a shirt. You expect the black SUV from the night before to pull up. Instead, you’re met with a basic sedan. It’s still nice - obviously new. The seats are a soft, well cared for leather.

“So is this what you do? Invite prostitutes over for omlettes and tea and then drive them home?” You blurt as John starts the car. That itch to dissect their thought processes continues to plague the back of your mind.

“Tea?” He repeats, a brow raised.

“Simon made me tea last night.”

John laughs. “Kyle really did fuck your throat raw, then?”

You whirl on him, eyes wide.

“Don’t act so surprised. Johnny can’t keep his mouth shut to save his life. Said you took it beautifully.” John sighs. “Bit jealous I didn’t get to watch the show. A good cigar and whiskey in hand? The perfect night, I think. Might have to recreate it…”

That last bit sounds more for him than for you.

You shouldn’t blush. You’ve been doing this long enough that there’s no reason to blush anymore. You have no right to be flustered over something as simple as sex. It’s the way he says it, you think. The way desire drips from every syllable as though he’s never said anything more true in his immortal life.

You just hide behind a huff and look out the window. “You’re all very weird, you know that?”

“Are we, now?” John rests his elbow on the door and his head on his hand. He weaves through the chaotic city roads expertly.

“You’re too…” You wrinkle your nose, pausing. The word gets lost on your tongue.

“Human?”

“If you say so.”

John chuckles. “You’re just as weird, you know that?”

“I am not weird!” You snap indignantly.

“If you say so.”

You have to do a double take when he pulls up to your apartment. Is it really that fast by car? What was that, ten minutes? The train is a nearly twenty minute ride with two fifteen minute walks. The walk is nearly three hours - two if you take the back way.

“Everythin’ alright?” He asks, voice dropping to a low drawl. You shake your head to clear it, pulling your respirator out of your coat.

“Don’t you need a-“ You stop when you meet John’s deadpan expression. “Oh, right.”

“Appreciate the concern, love.” He chuckles. It’s a surprisingly warm sound.

You reach for the door, respirator in hand and at the ready. You pause when John lays a hand lightly on your shoulder. Turning back, your eyes meeting his. There’s that storm again. The one he looked at you with before. Something roiling underneath the surface.

“Fancy?”

“Yes?”

“Before you go.” John leans forward. “C’mere.”

You assume he wants a kiss. It wouldn’t surprise you - a little thank you for the ride. Frankly, you should have thought of it first. Instead, he ducks his head to the side at the last moment. His hand tangles gently but firmly in your hair to pull your head to the side, leaving your neck craned and exposed. You freeze. Fear takes over - your heart rate immediately spiking. Your hands fist his coat, pushing as hard as you can against the unmoving mountain that is his body.

“John-“ Your voice cracks. “Please don’t-“

“Need t’ make sure you’re safe…” He mumbles.

A fang catches your skin. You freeze.

It drags across your neck, down the arch of your artery. You suck in a hear breath, the skin not quite breaking under the touch. Before you can speak or begin pushing again or even try to get out of the car, he bites down. A yelp escapes you as his teeth slowly sink in - only through the top most layer of skin. Not enough to puncture the artery or even for his other teeth to bite into your skin.

Your whole body shakes. “What’re you-“

John shushes you as he pulls away, eyes locked on the cut he made on your neck. You can feel the wet blood beginning to drip down your neck. His hand stays in your hair, holding you in place. The blue of his irises seems somehow brighter, pupils so narrowed they don’t look to be more than pinpricks. After a few beats he seems satisfied, letting your hair go and sitting back in his seat.

“Just a precaution, love.”The vampire looks you over, eyes suddenly painfully soft again. “Take care of yourself.”

Your eyes flick between his. A cold, rushing fear pumps through your veins. Your mouth opens and closes like a fish before you finally come to your senses, taking the chance to dash out of the car and toward your apartment. Fight or flight pushing away any ability to ask what the fuck that was. By the time you turn around to check behind you, John is far down the street.

You rush to your bathroom mirror, tossing your respirator to the ground as soon as you’re in your front door. It’s not deep. He didn’t even lick up after himself - a thin trail of blood pooling around your clavicle before continuing down. It wasn’t about drinking. You hiss as your fingers lightly test the tender skin.

What the fuck?

He’s a vampire. At the end of the day that’s all he is. No facial expressions or ability to cook will undo that he’s a different creature entirely. Was that what this is about? Reminding you what they are? The power they have? You wouldn’t put it past one of them, the sick fucks. What kind of fool were you to think they’re at all different.

After a shower and finally changing into some pajamas (minus a certain vampire’s tshirt that he will not be getting back) you go to grab your lamp. It doesn’t take long to set up the UV light, just dragging it out of storage and setting up the shade above it so that the rays concentrate downward onto your skin. You slowly sink to the ground. Exhaustion clings to your bones. They feel brittle and heavy simultaneously.

You sigh, curling up under the warm light like a cat. You have to be smart about how long you stay under it - the damn thing runs up the electricity bill like nothing else. Plus, too long under it can cause serious skin damage. As much as you’d rather go without, you’ve seen what happens to those that do.

You half heartedly re-count out the envelope of money, still feeling overwhelmed at the sheer amount of it. At the whole situation at hand. You realize quickly enough that despite having the money to do almost anything you don’t actually… know what to do. Despite the plan being to save up and get out of the slums you never really planned for what to do once you were out of the slums.

The realization that you never truly believed you could do it, even unconsciously, is a little heartbreaking.

Do you keep working at the club? Hope that these clients like you enough to keep up with your new lifestyle? Pray that they enjoy fucking you for long enough to save up? Do you even want to see them after what John just did? Do you look for another job? There isn’t much you can get when the whole of your resume is stamped with WHORE in bright red letters.

With a low groan you slump back on the floor and throw your arm over your eyes. Everything is so fucked. You’re lost in it and it’s all fucked.

Normally, you would avoid information about the people that come in and out of your club. They’re looking for discretion, after all. A place to hide away from the dealings of life. A fantasy. If you were smart, you’d stick with that habit. Especially when it comes to the ones that literally compel you to forget their business.

John just lost the right to any discretion after that stunt in the car.

You open up your shitty laptop that requires five hail mary’s to start. It greets you with the top headlines of the day, all just as enjoyable as you’d expect.

UNKNOWN SUBSTANCE FOUND IN FOUR MORE JANE DOES

NEW DRUG CYTH TAKING THE UNDERGROUND MARKETS BY STORM

CORPSE FOUND WITH BLOOD LEAKING FROM PORES

You close them out, for your own sanity, and type John’s name into the search bar. A few things come up - some company called One-Four-One with the most nothing description about what kind of company they are. They “develop products and services” - aka they’re a shell for shady bullshit. They’re listed as the benefactor for some lower city charities and given responsibility for several mergers and buy-outs in the upper city. All the things you’d expect from a corporation.

It’s too clean, though. You’ve been living in the underbelly long enough to know what a front looks like. Not that you’re surprised. Every vampire corporation is a cover for a million other little inner workings you will never be privy to.

The only pictures of John are a few from press reports. His imposing figure standing behind some ugly podium with a logo hastily plastered across the front. He has a commanding air about him behind all those microphones - like a preacher or a politician. Fitting.

Johnny and Kyle have a far more risqué library. Images with models and other beautiful women. The kinds of things you’d expect from young, playboy vampires stretching over the past century at least, according to the archive dates. The boys aren’t the focus of the images - it’s all paparazzi for the women - but they’re in them nonetheless. How the hell did Johnny manage to squeeze into a pair of leather pants like that?

Simon doesn’t even seem to exist. A total ghost. No matter how deep you go you can’t find a trace of him. You manage to get all the way back to the 1990s in the archive and still come up with jack shit.

You’re left with more questions than answers and a distinct understanding that you shouldn’t ask any of them. You knew that already, though, and you have no plans to let John Price close enough to speak to you anytime soon.

You didn’t realize you fell asleep up until you wake, alarm blaring in your ear that it’s time to get up and go to work. It never ends. You still feel so fucking tired, body heavy and eyes stinging. A haze settles over your mind as you fall into your constant routine. Makeup, hair, dress, respirator on, walk, train, respirator off, walk.

Your locker in the back room fights you, forcing you to practically break it open. Just another thing to leave you feeling angry and useless.

“I heard they got Red.” The girl beside you whispers. She’s mousy, new. A gossiper. She even tried to talk to you, at least before she found out that you apparently steal clients.

The girl she’s speaking to side eyes her. “What do you mean got ‘er?”

“With that new drug - Cyth or whatever.”

“Cyth isn’t real. It’s just people making up shit to cover up what the vamps are doing. As if we don’t already know.”

“But what about-“ You don’t hear the rest of what she says, her voice drowning out as you leave the back room.

Time seems to crawl by at the club without the men. You hate it. Not just the slowness of the day but the fact that they’ve had that effect on you. That these creatures you barley know have invaded your thoughts. Wormed themselves into the nooks and crannies of your psyche. Marked you - however temporarily that may be.

The patrons avoid your eyes. You serve their drinks, and where they would normally make a salacious remark or grab onto you they just offer a huffy thanks and ignore you. The tips are garbage, even the other serving girls notice and begin to basically steal your tables. It has to be the bite.

Why, though? Plenty of serving girls have fresh bite marks and they aren’t getting reactions like that. You can count four on the main floor right now.

At least once the day is over, it’s over. You can go home and hide away. Be angry in peace. Maybe make a plan for what to do. Maybe you can leave the city you and your friends talked about as teens. Except they’re all dead now and you’re pretty sure there isn’t anything outside of the dome anymore. At least not anything you could get to.

The other girls don’t walk with you to the metro anymore. The streets are never truly empty in the main city. There’s no real day or night. It’s only the places humans inhabit that become abandoned during the “night.” As you exit the lower city station, the streets empty out. It’s just you, footsteps echoing off buildings. The smog in the air only makes it darker - even harder to navigate.

Until a second pair of footsteps appears, fast and growing louder by the second. Before you can even begin to run or check behind you a force slams into you, sending you tumbling down onto harsh concrete and into an alley.

You’re cornered. There’s nowhere to go. Before you can grapple for your garlic spray the vampire has your wrists in his hand, pulling you up to dangle in front of him. The backs of your hands and arms scrape against the rough brick of the building he’s pinned you too. It hurts, cutting deep into your skin under the pressure of his strength.

The thing hisses, ripping off the neck guard attached to your respirator. The whole thing goes clattering to the ground. You choke on the poison air, lungs immediately rejecting it.

You tip your eyes to the obstructed sky. Of course it would end this way. It’s the end for you all, isn’t it? Just another body in an alley. Another free apartment for people to fight over. Another headline for people to frown at on the train. You wonder if they would use your name or just leave you as another Jane Doe.

What do the real stars look like, anyway?

He takes a long inhale and freezes in place. You can barely make out wide, frenzied eyes. A hood blocks any of his other features. His breath hastens, chest heaving against yours. What the hell is he waiting for?

Suddenly he reels backward, hissing and spitting. Muttering words you don’t understand. It drops you so suddenly that you collapse to the ground. Unable to gain any footing, still coughing and choking.

“What-“ You’re not even sure why you want to ask it a question. Before you can at all the thing runs away down the alley. Your hand travels up to your neck.

The bite.

A coughing fit sends you doubling over and you blearing grope around the ground for your respirator. At least it didn’t get smashed, you sigh in relief - clipping it back around your face and neck.

Your hands shake and you turn, staring up at that massive skyscraper hanging above the city. It’s taunting you. You feel like you can almost see John staring down at you, toying with you. An anger flares in your body so hot you almost feel as thought you’ve caught fire. He wants to fuck with you? To make you feel weak? To try to lay some sort of claim?

Fine. You can play ball.

A/N: John “you don’t need to know what’s going on, love, just do what I say” Price and Miss “don’t fuck with my independence” Fancy

I don’t love this chapter but I gotta get plot moving and grooving.

364 notes · View notes

rosedom · 2 months

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AHHHH HELLOOO sorry i usually dont request much, haha this is actually my second request in all of my tumblr story ever but...i saw you decided to write for gaming and i just couldnt resist, i love your writing a lot and i just think its so immaculate hahaa. Could you write an scenario where male reader is stressed from work (imagine he has an important job like a doctor or something whatever you want is fine :)) because he has been working days nonstop, so much that his boyfriend is all worked up and horny for him so when reader comes back he finds himself straddled by him while hes begging for fucking? With cockwarming, breeding kink and cowgirl position. Could that be with Gaming, Lyney and Gorou? SORRY IF IM ASKING MUCH I DONT WANT TO BE A BOTHER😭😭 i just dont know how to request but thanks for reading all of rant. And again, thank you and sorry for bothering😔 have a nice day/afternoon/night!

"an unnamed player has invited GA-MING, LYNEY, and GOROU to play . . . an apple a day

✦ㅤㅤ 【 CW 】 dom!top!male!reader, sub!bottom!ftm!characters, vaginal sex & riding, breeding kink + creampies, creaming (lyney), gratuitous praise + petnames .

A/N : aa u are never a bother !! i am SO SORRY this took so long for me to get to, omg . . . but i had sm fun with this (´▽`ʃ♡ƪ)

"do you want to watch, [PLAYER]? press KEEP READING to spectate the match."

Patient after patient after patient, each one with a more downright stupid trouble than the last. Your day had started with a young man, clearly fresh out of Millelith training, complaining of a tummy ache, of all things! He had clutched his stomach and moaned and groaned, and all you could prescribe him was bedrest. It’s not like you were going to waste medicine—medicine that some people needed—on someone who ached because he didn't eat fucking breakfast.

The next patient was an older woman, here only for her biannual check up. You'd greeted her, said a sweet, “Good morning, madame,” but all she did was turn her snobby nose up at you and demand you not waste her time.

“Madame, you have a serious—”

“I know, young man.” You had heaved a sigh, letting her boss you around for the length of her appointment before sending her off with the exact same specifications as last time: take vitamins, get ample rest, stop talking back to people just doing their jobs. (Though, that last one there was merely something you wished you had said.

Too bad the customer—in this case, patient—is always right, huh?)

But, by the end of the day, you wish, instead, that you had simply elderly after elderly; their disrespect pales to the absolute headache that the rest of your patients put behind your eyes, pounding at your skull—bam, bam, bam.

Wham bam-thank-you-ma'am, all throbbing incessantly behind your eyes and making you wanna hurl—except, god, you’re the fucking doctor, and who’s there to take care of him when he’s a little under the weather? You’ve got your boyfriend, of course—your perfect boyfriend, light of your life, apple of your eye, yet he’s home, and you’re here, and you’re bloody exhausted.

“I need to go home,” you murmur—quiet, lest your own voice make you lose the last of your thin-threaded sanity—, already stripping yourself of the itchy scrubs you wear during the long days.

“But sir—” the nurse asks, meak, but her voice is still too loud, too shrill for right now.

You huff. “I’ve worked for fourteen hours.” The tired gruff to your own voice makes you cringe. You can feel the way it tumbles from your chest, rattling you, your overly sensitive eyes and brain and head and fuckin’ everything, at this point. “Refer to the doc on duty, now.”

The nurse nods, once. “Have a good night, doctor.”

You bid farewell—a kind apology with a promise to make it up to them, to bring them coffee, maybe, or some cookies—, and you take the slow walk home. The sky is dark and the fireflies are out, the gentle glow illuminating the path. With nothing but your own thoughts and the night to accompany you, you feel your headache gradually ease. It throbs, still; but each bump in your skull is gentler, now: it’s easier to ignore.

Although the porch light is too strong—the lantern bright and attracting the nighttime bugs and moths—, the foyer of your home is dark. Your aching head is grateful for the reprieve—for the silence that envelops you in totality the second the door clicks quietly shut behind you—, but something other than tiredness pulls at your heartstrings: your sweet boyfriend, clad in only a shirt of yours, toeing into the entryway.

“Honey?” He wipes the sleep from his eyes, softly smiling at you. “Hi.”

“Ga-ming, honey—” honey, because Ga-ming unabashedly stole the pet name from you, first, “—you didn’t have to stay up for me.”

As if on cue, his jaw cracks open in a yawn: this, you do not need the lights on to see. Your heart aches with your head, knowing that he had stayed up just for you. “Honey,” you repeat, sliding off your jacket and stepping up to him. You take his waist in your hands, bunching up the shirt he stole from your closet.

“Quit with that,” he murmurs, tilting up his head for a soft kiss. You grant it; but when you go to pull back, to keep the kiss gentle and chaste, Ga-ming presses forward, darting that little tongue out to lick at the seam of your lips; his hips, too, come bumping against yours, pressing into your thigh, pant to skin—

“Ga-ming?” you repeat, breath leaving you in a low huff. “You’re—” bare.

Utterly, wholly bare: an expanse of warm, slick skin against your clothed leg. “‘m ready,” he mumbles while he takes to mouthing at your throat. His lips soothe you, somehow; it’s a reprieve, a stark contrast, to the pounding at your skull.

“Ready?” you whisper, tilting your head back, letting your hands guide the steady roll of his hips onto your lap.

He nods. “Ready for you,” he enunciates as he softly whines.

Ga-ming—your Ga-ming—, your boyfriend, your love and light of your life: right here in front of you, on you, all needy for you, offering himself to you, wholly ready for the taking.

“So please,” he continues, his cock dragging heavy across the seam of your pant; “fuck me.”

“Oh, honey,” you murmur; then again, an “oh, honey,” because you’re still half-dressed up in your clothes—though they’re only soft and bland, made to fit under the rough scrubs you had abandoned at the office—, and Ga-ming is naked save for the shirt draping across him, the low hemline covering the absolutely sinful way he grinds down. It’s a dirty move, a down, down, down that gives his sensitive cock friction against your pelvis.

“Please, please, ‘m ready, I said—” his words abruptly drop off, a high cry in his throat that sends him to hide his overly-warm face in your neck. His skin burns against you, a feverish-hot that makes you chuckle, makes the throb in your head go away, just-so. “I said I-I was ready, so, please!”

You coo, quiet, bumping your hips up once. The jerking motion makes him cry out, but he manages to keep himself upright, right-side up but entirely unmoored on your cock. “Go on then, little lion. Take what you need, yeah?”

Whimpering a quiet, “Y-yeah,” he begins riding you, slow, steady—but slightly off-balanced—rolls of his hips that makes him whine, makes you groan low n’ deep in your chest. You let your hands rest on his hips, the fabric of his shirt falling over your wrists, and gently guide his motions. Once you’ve helped him establish himself, he begins riding you harder, more desperate.

Silent tears—though, are they truly silent, loud as he is moaning out for you?—dribble down his cheeks, falling to his shirt and soaking the collar of it in salty evidence of his abject pleasure. His abdomen is tensing and relaxing and tensing and relaxing again, all in a rapid loop, in and out and in n’ out, and then there’s a fucking bulge right below his navel when he sinks down hard n’ deep on your cock; and you’re sent over the edge at the sight, moaning through your teeth as you fill Ga-ming up with hot, sticky cum.

“Oh, oh—” he cries, grinding down harsh to get all your cum in as deep as possible, deep ‘nuff to breed him— “bred me, bred me so well, oh—” You groan at his desperate babbling as his thighs jerk around your hips, just before they give out on him entirely. He falls bodily into your chest, heaving through his own orgasm as weak mewls tumble from his prettily parted lips. Each sound is smeared into your throat while you laugh, light and breathless, jostling his overly-sensitized body and making him flinch.

“Sorry, honey.” You kiss at his temple, and, the whole while, his small cunt is left to unconsciously milk your cock, left to assure that loud, insecure part of his brain that he’s wanted, that he’s bred all nice n’ full because he is loved. You’re long done, now, but the undulations make your body warm, soft, safe—just like Ga-ming is, comfy in your lap and wholly protected. “Thank you.”

He shakes his head against you, nuzzling into your throat with a heavy sigh. “You don’t have—hafta thank me,” he mumbles, a lick at your Adam’s apple to seal the deal. “I wanted ta.”

Tucking up the blankets around him, you grin. “Then can you warm my cock, lil’ dragon? Just for me?” You run your fingers lightly up his clothed spine, delighting in the shiver you can feel, one that runs the length of your cock as he’s snug on it. “Since earlier was all about you?” You raise the end of your sentence in a lilting tone, meant to tease, and Ga-ming huffs at you.

And, n further retaliation, he clenches around you; the soft squeeze—all wet n’ warm, smearing your own cum across the base of your cock and leaving the mess of both of yours to dribble down the minute space between your bodies—forces you to calm your breathing, to take in the delicate scent of what is undeniably Ga-ming mixed with the smell of your own shirt, your own cologne.

You laugh, then. “‘m sorry,” you say again amidst giggles, ones you’re careful you confine only to your upper chest lest the movement be too uncomfortable on both of your oversensitive groins.

He doesn't reply, snuggled up comfy on your lap and stuffed full of your cock n’ cum both. Instead, he only noses into your neck further before his breathing steadies, lulling you to sleep, too.

It’s in your final moments of consciousness that you realize your head no longer hurts.

(You suppose you now have the evidence that, yes, an orgasm is sufficient enough a cure for headaches.)

Under Lyney’s palm, a small floor lamp clicks silently on. The light is admittedly dim, but, to your sensitive eyes, the bulb is blinding. You cringe and cover your eyes; but it only serves to shield you slightly, because you’re still upright in the foyer, and your body is rather weak. “Lyney,” you tiredly murmur, lifting your palm just enough to see the ground lest you trip.

You bump into him, laughing lightly, but his worried hands jump to your arm. “Hey—”

“I’m okay.” You’re quick to calm him, placing your free hand on his in a tender gesture as you make way to the living room. “Just a headache, ‘s all. Ya shouldn't have stayed up f’r me.” Earlier, it hurt to even think; but here, with him, the pain is easy to ignore, in the face of his own self destruction.

He grumbles at you, though, says something you can’t quite catch and drops his hands, pads over to the lamp to flick it off. The return of darkness is soothing.

He smiles at you, then; or, at least, you think he does. It’s difficult to see in the dark, and you can’t strain your eyes without hurting yourself. “I wanted to!” He takes three long strides before he’s standing in front of you, draping his arms across your shoulders. The position makes his (your) shirt ride up on his belly, and— ”I missed you, y’know,” he murmurs, suddenly all soft n’ deep, looking up at you and bumping his forehead against your chin. “A lot, really.”

“Lyn—”

He quickly silences you with a kiss. Against your lips, he pulls back, murmurs, “I missed your cock, especially.”

Laughing against him, you lean up ‘til he can no longer reach you. He pouts at you when you reply, faux-snark, “only my cock, huh?” Your bottom lip juts out—a mirror of Lyney’s own, a magic trick of his you took for your own; it’s a devilish trick, one you play right alongside puppy-dog eyes you know he’s soft to. “How cruel.”

He huffs at you, pulling you down by the collar of your shirt to kiss the mirth off your lips. “I was tryin’ to be seductive,” he grumbles, knocking against your chin and beginning to push you backwards into the living room. “But nevermind!”

You want to say, “Hey, now:” disagree with him and keep on pouting and go, “hey, hey, hey,” all offended, but the backs of your knees come into contact with the edge of the sofa, and you’re well and sufficiently distracted from that idea.

“Sit,” he gently commands you—merely the illusion of choice—, giving you no choice in the matter with the way he’s pressing you down into the cushions. You go easily; you sigh in relief when the softness begins enveloping you—a pillow’s snug right in the middle of your back, and you briefly wonder if Lyney had planned this. He murmurs, “there you go,” quiet n’ soft, and you’re taken by the way this man gives to you.

He wears his heart on his sleeve, truly; except, right now, the sleeve is yours (just like his heart belongs to you and yours to him in turn), and it's bare, and so is the expanse of his long, pale thighs, the hem of his boxers peeking out beneath the shirt. He stands in front of you, between your legs, makes sure you’re down and that you’re gonna stay down, but your eyes aren’t really tired, not anymore, staring at Luney—your Lyney—before he huffs and sits bodily onto you, straddling your lap with his knees sinking into the cushions on either side of you.

“Lyney,” you murmur, reaching out to take hold of his thighs. The position makes the shirt rise up on his belly, exposing the soft, rippling muscles there; but, in the dark, all you can go by is what you feel against your own stomach, his bare skin pressed to your thin shirt. “I was kiddin’, sweetheart.”

“I know you were,” he snaps at you, mean-like, but he brings his arms around your shoulders all sweetly and nuzzles into the side of your head. “But I wasn’t. I—I really did miss you; and your cock. If you—if you wanna, of course.”

“Of course I want to, Lyn,” you mutter, tilting your head up to kiss beneath his chin. “I’m just a little tired.”

“A little?” He huffs, again, before sighing. “Just—let me do the work, alright? I’m already...” he pauses, tilts his head to the side, breathes in and out sharply.

You hum at him to go on.

“‘m already prepped.” Oh.

“Oh?” You grin, bringing your tired arm up to cup his cheek. He leans into your palm and his eyelashes flutter, brushing against your skin. “Go ahead then, sweet thing.”

And go ahead he does, smiling into you before he abruptly leans back ‘nuff to chuck off the shirt. You whine, say, “hey!” but there isn’t any bite left on your tongue when Lyney starts tugging his boxers down, too. He’s impatient, pulling at the seam and groaning curses at the fabric—as if it’s the damn boxers’ fault that he’s in a position that prevents him from taking them off.

He relents, tilting this way and that and finally—after painstaking minutes later, ones that, under no circumstance, should be arousing, but the anticipation, the wait: it all makes your dick chub up in your own pants—Lyney’s left naked in your lap. The fabric hangs off his foot, and you reach down to tug it the rest of the way off for your sweet boyfriend as he busies himself unbuckling your own belt, loosening the tough leather enough for your pants to droop and enough for him to reach a hot hand into your briefs.

“Eager, huh?” you tease, lifting your hips—and, subsequently, him—to let him get your dick out of your pants. Neither of you bother pulling down your own pants, not after Lyney spent so long on his boxers alone. He doesn’t dally. “My sweet Lyney.”

He sighs, again—he’s rather dramatic tonight; but, then again, when isn’t he? It wouldn’t quite be your Lyney without some theatrics—, spitting into his palm and lathering up your cock with it while he makes to straddle you more fully. “Thought you were tired,” he grumbles, hovering his, indeed, wet n’ slicked up and entirely prepped cunt over your thick cockhead.

“Mhm.” You set your hands on his plush thighs once he hooks the head of you into his loosened hole, groaning low and pleased in your throat while he softly whimpers at the barely-there stretch. He prepared himself well. “But when you’re lookin’ so pretty for me, I can’t help being wide awake. Wouldn’t wanna miss this sight for the world.”

With your eyes now adjusted to the light—and, oh, you consider how the throb of your head is a bygone memory now—, you can see the way his cheeks darken just-so, puffed up in exertion as his groin meets yours. You’ve got your cock stuffed up balls-deep in him, and he leans into you once he’s fully settled.

He moans, less out of outright pleasure and more out of total contentment, comfy and warm on your lap as your arms knead at his thighs. His arms squeeze around your shoulders, and he quietly asks, “Gimme a minute.”

Nodding, you simply bask in the steady heat of him, letting him adjust and recognize that, yes, you’re home, now, and you hadn’t really left him at all. “I missed you,” you murmur rather suddenly, your voice quiet but still stark in the silence of the night. “Thought about you durin’ my shift.”

“You did?” His voice is rough but wispy, a little out-there and entirely gone. He’s slipping into that mindset he always does when he’s left to warm your cock—regardless of if it were by his volition or your own—, but he begins to subtly grind his hips against you, mewling at the hot sparks of rapture from his cock rubbing just right against you.

“‘Course I did,” you continue, moving your hands to his hips instead to help move him along. His arms tighten around you and he moans directly into your ear.

From then on, it’s quiet: quiet, that is, save from the obscene slick noises of the lube Lyney used to prep himself earlier with his own slick, your pre-cum mixing up and making a mess of thick liquid between both of your thighs. His moans are barely audible, these soft, gentle lil’ uh, uh, uh’s punched out of him with each tender grind down.

You think, even, that you’ll both cum like this: quiet, nothing but the sounds of your connection and heavy breaths, moans, groans as you fall over the edge. But then Lyney starts bumping his groin against yours even harder, grinding down deep on your cock and rubbing against your full balls, and he starts babbling for you to “breed me! Please—”

“I-I’ll breed you,” you groan, leaning your head back into the sofa cushions and chasing your release, chasing the release you both want, the one he wants so desperately stuffed up deep inside him. “Gonna fill you right up, just like you want, sweetheart.”

He babbles more—a mix of syllables and words, more pleas for you to breed him—until he’s silenced by his own high-pitched whine, cumming around you and slathering you in creamy-white. The steady clench and release of his cunt forces you to your own end, thick cum slowly leaking out from the edges of his cunt and your cock. (You can hardly tell what’s your leaking cum and what is his own.)

“Thank you,” he mumbles, already beginning to doze. “Th’nk you:” quieter, more muddled against your ear.

You grab the throw you have across the sofa’s armrest, rucking it up around the two of you; you cocoon Lyney safe in your arms and on your softened cock. He’s nodded off, now, and he misses your words: “You don’t have to thank me,” you say anyway, even if he doesn’t hear you, “I love you.”

The cum’ll be sticky, later, when you wake up; but for now, it’s perfect. It’s perfectly warm and entirely cozy, wholly snuggled up with the love of your life. Your headache, the stressors of the day—they’re all forgotten in his presence.

You’re so, so glad to love him.

“Hi, puppy,” you coo. The sound of your own voice grates you, but you ignore it to sweetly smile at your beloved. He stands there, motionless for a moment right there at the threshold before the foyer, until he shakes his head with a barely-there laugh. “Gorou?”

He tilts his head to the side—this you can see, the silhouette of him in the moonlight—before he takes a tentative step forward.

Then another. And another. Another, another, another, ‘till he’s standing in front of you and leans up to kiss your jaw. “Hi,” he repeats, voice ruff (hah!) and hoarse, a little too much so. “Missed ya.”

You tilt your head back to let him mouth at you, and your hands subconsciously come to clutch at his hips, and— “Oh, Gorou,” you mumble, pleasantly aghast, because your hands come into contact with bare, slick skin. “Pent up?”

With a quiet whimper, he tilts his hips forward, into you, pressing against the contact of your fingers on him. You slowly slide your one hand around, sneaking a large handful of his ass before you dip into his cleft, shuddering when your fingertip easily glides across his slicked, open cunt.

“I-I wanted you, so bad,” he starts to mumble, shy, tucking his head into the meat where your shoulder meets your neck. Without any prompting, you adjust your stance, pressing your knee into his cock and making him jerk forward with another whimper high in his throat. “Oh!”

Slowly, his hips begin grinding—it’s a weak movement, testing, making sure you're really okay with this, right now. He moves unsure against you until you begin bumping your knee, letting his slick make a mess of your pant leg. “Go on,” you goad him on, soft, holding him snug against you. You can feel his cunt clench even through the fabric of your pants, a rapid rat-a-tat-tat against you that is oddly reminiscent of the headache you can feel begin to dissipate. “Take your pleasure, pup.”

He nods vehemently against you, beginning to hump as his tail swishes side to side, side to side, hypnotizing you just slightly. It’s hard to parse it out in the dark, but the shadow of it is undeniable behind him. Each bounce of your leg makes Gorou whimper, and he’s quick to crane his neck up for a kiss to muffle himself. You grant his request easily, but only for a minute; after, you gently part from him to murmur, so quiet that only he could possibly hear, those big, soft ears of his twitching as he strains, “What else do you want, honey?”

“Want you,” he whines, grinding harshly once, twice. “Want you inside me, want you to breed me.”

You didn’t expect that, but you’re a doctor, after all; it’s kinda in the job description to roll with the punches, so you do. “You wanna get fucked full of pups?” you ask, teasing and light, but Gorou’s mouth parts as a loud whine crawls out of his chest.

“Yes! Please.” Thick tears begin to drop from his eyes, saltwater dribbling onto the bare skin of your throat. “Now, now—breed me now,” he begs, and you coo at him, bringing your hands to curl into his hair, rubbing soothing circles into the base of one puppydog ear.

“Patience, pup.”

And, because he’s Gorou, and Gorou is nothing but a good boy, he nods, rapid-quick movements of his head, and begins to slow on your thigh. Heat shimmers low in your belly as he steps back from you on shaky legs, a wet splotch across your leg from his cunt. You bring a hand down, meaning to scoop it up off your pant, but your finger brushes two distinctly different textures: his natural slick, and fuckin’ lube. “Did you prepare yourself for me?”

“Y-yeah,” he mutters, tail tucking itself between his legs. You almost cringe at that, knowing he’s smearing himself into his own fur, but if he doesn’t mind, then you won’t either; besides, it’s hard to truly care when your boyfriend is so bashful in front of you. “I—I missed you, ‘nd wanted to be ready for you.”

The image of Gorou, ass up on the bed with four of his fingers stuffed up inside of himself flitters across your mind, makes your cock throb in your britches. Your erection was easy to ignore, earlier; but now it’s abject torture.

However, it’s not nearly as torturous as it was for your boyfriend, and you know this. You know he didn’t cum, know his fingers are far too short to truly reach in deep and press against his g-spot, know his wrist can’t comfortably bend to jerk himself off and finger himself at the same time. So you coo, soft, “Sweet boy. Where’s your toy?”

“Charging,” he mutters.

You grin at that: it’s perfect. “Can you go get it then, puppy?”

With an audible swallow, he nods, rushing for your bedroom. You follow behind him, lethargic but so, so turned on; and while he’s grabbing the vibrator from the corner, you shuck off the rest of your clothes and plop yourself down on the edge of your bed.

He must not expect you to have followed him, however, because once he turns around, he jumps, ears flattening to his head in embarrassment. You only laugh and pat your lap. “C’mere.”

Quickly—and toy in tow—, he shuffles over to you. He stands awkwardly in front of you for a moment before you murmur, “I said c’mere,” and tug him to straddle your lap. The position immediately forces his cock—slick n’ thick, out of its hood and throbbing incessantly—against yours, and he mewls helplessly for a moment, grinds once, twice again, before he grabs the lube to the side of you.

You hadn’t even noticed it there, but now that he’s grabbed it, pointed it out, you feel other wet spots beneath you. He fuckin’ masturbated here, right on the duvet you both sleep under, thinkin’ about you and only you. You’re taking out of your musings when he slathers up your cock in lube, messy and sloppy, and then he’s rising, positioning you, and sinking right on down.

“Mm!” he cries out, swiveling his hips to take you in deeper, deeper, deeper. You groan at the lube-slick combination that smothers your cock in Gorou, Gorou, Gorou. “Breed me, breed me!” Each meak plea makes your cock pulse inside him, and he mewls at each throb inside him. “Please!”

“I got you, pup,” you murmur, your edge so close you can taste it on the tip of your tongue. “Just make yourself feel good, and I’ll breed you, okay? Okay, puppy?”

“Okay, okay—”

You grin. “Good boy,” you say, and then he’s tumbling over the edge and bringing you right down with him. You groan into his throat, feeling the vibrations of his whimpers n’ whining moans as he’s getting thoroughly bred. Your hands ruck up his shirt to hold his sides and soothe him down from his high. “You did so good for me, sweetheart. Bred you just like I promised I would, hm?”

He weakly nods. “Thank you,” he mumbles, nosing at your throat.

And, well. You’re bloody exhausted, and you promised to breed him, and he can’t keep on being bred if you pull out. You tell yourself you’re only upholding your promise as Gorou falls asleep on your cock, breathing deep on your lap: tell yourself that it’s the lingering tiredness that suddenly seems to hit you in full-force that keeps him warm and snug on you.

Really, clean-up can wait.

i got a lil' carried away on lyney's part ,, o(*^＠^*)o also, none of these were really cowgirl 'cos reader was sitting up for it . . . i couldn't think of how to have him lay flat in these scenarios LOLL

13 MAR. 2024, @rosedom, rosey .

#ㅤ✦【 ASKS 】#i used to have very frequent headaches and the only way i could abate them was:#1) midol (god's gift to earth i stg)#and 2) jrking off.#so !!#sub genshin #genshin smut #genshin x reader #sub gaming #gaming x reader #sub lyney #lyney x reader #sub gorou #gorou x reader #lord .#top reader #dom reader #amab reader #male reader

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illyrianbitch · 6 days

Text

Pretty Little Shadowsinger

Pairing: Reader x Azriel

Summary: Based off this request: I want something silly, like there’s just no explanation given. Cassian walks in on reader dressing Az in one of her dresses or something and Cassian is just like 👈🧍‍♂️😳😏😍

Warnings: fluff, just them all being a lil silly, az in a dress, mentions of boobies and swearing

Word Count: 1.3k

a/n: me making "drabbles" over 1k, also not fully edited so squint at any mistakes and pretend they arent there <3

✹ ✶ �� ✶✹

“Oh my gods,” you gushed, bringing your hands up to your face. “Look at you. Such a pretty little shadowsinger.”

Azriel tried to maintain his usual stone-faced demeanor, but a faint blush crept onto his cheeks despite his best efforts. He was suppressing back a smile, too. Not because he particularly loved the situation he was in, but because of how giddy you had been for the past hour as you shoved him in many of your countless dresses. The one he wore now was itchy and uncomfortably loose, and he felt a draft that he wasn't accustomed to. But he endured it, solely because of the joy it brought you.

Azriel raised an eyebrow skeptically, his lips twitching with the effort not to smile. “Uh huh.”

"Aw, c'mon," you insisted, stepping closer to him. "It really brings out your figure."

You maneuvered yourself between his wings, wrapping your arms around his torso and guiding him to look at the mirror. Balancing yourself on your tiptoes, you peeked over his shoulder to make eye contact with him. His shadows followed the movement, a dark mass now clustered above his other shoulder as if they, too, were watching in amusement.

He glanced at his reflection with a scrunched face. He’d seen this dress on you multiple times, had complimented you on the beautiful blue of it— one that perfectly matched his siphons. Had even ripped it off after events in an attempt to ravage you as soon as he could— that later fact felt slightly strange now considering he was the one wearing it. The dress in front of him, however, was quite frankly the ugliest thing he’d ever seen. Azriel realized now, more than ever, that the female truly did make the dress. But then again, you were the most gorgeous female in Prythian, so why was he so surprised that you made everything else just as beautiful?

"Should I be concerned I fit into this?"

You let out a small laugh, tightening your hold around his waist.

"You've always had a dainty ballerina waist, babe," you teased, watching as he rolled his eyes playfully in response, a small smile forming at the edges of his mouth.

Azriel turned his head to look down at you over his shoulder. “Thanks.”

"But don't worry.” You gave him another little squeeze. “It doesn't zip up in the back. Your boobs are too big," you added, your hands moving to jokingly squeeze his pecs.

Azriel scoffed lightly and lifted your hands off him, turning around to face you. He struggled for a moment as the fabric of the dress moved around his heavy boots and you bit your lip to suppress your laughter at the movement.

His eyes met yours as he finally faced you, gently holding your hands in his, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips. Shadows curled around where your hands met, cool and light. "Alright, those are muscles," he remarked teasingly. "Pecs."

You nodded, scrunching your nose playfully. "Uh-uh.”

"Real big, tough muscles," he continued, emphasizing his point. He leaned in closer to you.

"Boobs," you interjected with a grin. The face Azriel wore, now, could almost be interpreted as one of unamusement had it not been for the glint in his eyes and the subtle upturn of his lips.

He shook his head with a soft laugh. "What am I going to do with you?"

You pretended to contemplate for a moment, looking away in exaggerated thought. "Hmmm… maybe kiss me?"

Azriel’s eyes softened, a dimpled smile appearing on his face. “I can do that.”

He leaned in to press a tender kiss to your lips, the moment melting away in the warmth of his mouth, in the way that your eyes shuttered closed. You let out a hum of delight.

Too caught up in the moment, you both failed to hear the sound of your door opening until it was far too late.

"Hey guys, have you seen—" Cassian's voice trailed off as he stepped inside, taking in the view before him.

It was Azriel who pulled apart first, neck snapping to face his brother at a speed so fast you barely blinked. You, however, opted to slowly turn to look at him, already preparing yourself for the look on his face.

“What-” Cassian paused, face falling into a confused scowl. He rebalanced himself, putting his weight on his other leg. He moved again as he placed his hands on his hips. Then once more, as he pointed towards Azriel with a lazy finger. “Whats, uh, whats going on here?”

“Get out,” was Azriels only reply.

Cassian pursed his lips, eyes narrowing at his brother. His gaze flickered to you for a moment, taking in your tightly pressed lips, clearly containing a laugh, and then he looked back at Azriel.

"Nice dress, loser, but I don't think you have the right amount of cleavage to pull it off.”

A low growl rumbled in Azriel's chest as he rolled his eyes. “Shut up.”

You wondered if the growl was a reaction of embarrassment from your mate or if it was in response to Cassian alluding to your own cleavage. Both answers made you want to laugh.

But Cassian only grinned, a large amused smile— one that said he was just starting his strange, annoying torment. You sighed, mouth falling open into a smile despite your best efforts.

"Cass,” you said, bringing his attention to you. “You can't just barge into my room. What if we were naked? Right in the middle of having sex? Hmm?"

A hint of playful sarcasm laced your words.

Cassian's smirk widened. "Would've been a lot more normal than this," he responded, earning another eye-roll from Azriel and a snort of laughter from you.

"Get out," Azriel ordered again, his tone firm– and exasperated, almost– as he gestured towards the door.

You couldn't help but notice how Azriel's shadows seemed to shift, now positioned strategically at his chest where the fabric of the dress dipped to expose what would normally be your cleavage. You struggled to contain another laugh.

Cassian ignored him, hands gesturing between the two of you.

“So is this like a kink? Or is Azzie just wanting to get some better fashion sense?”

Azriel stared at him with a clenched jaw at the nickname, tossing and tired glance your way. You met your mates gaze with a small shrug and let out a small breath of amusement.

“Okay, c’mon,” you told Cassian, “He just lost a bet, that's all.”

You grimaced the instant the words came from your mouth, watching as Cassian’s eyes lit up. You looked at Azriel, watching as his face fell slightly. Oh no.

“You-” Cassian began to grin wide. “You lost a bet? To Y/n? You lost a bet, and now you're wearing a dress.”

Azriel tilted his head in warning. “Cassian.”

A second passed. And then Cassian was letting out a loud, boisterous laugh, eyes wide and wild. “Oh my gods.”

“Stop it,” Azriel warned.

It didn’t matter. Cassian instantly turned around, his loud voice echoing throughout the halls. “Az lost a bet! Az lost a bet and he’s wearing a dress! Rhys!”

“Cassian!” Azriel moved to chase after him, only to stumble over the excess fabric of the dress, the silk material wrapping awkwardly around his boots. You bursted into laughter, rushing to his side to help him up and bunch up the fabric to prevent any further struggles.

Your mate grumbled under his breath, words cursing the long dress and his brother. With a sheepish smile, Azriel gathered the dress in his hands and bolted down the hallway, cheeks painted in a dusty pink.

You watched him go, still chuckling at the absurdity of it all. As Azriel disappeared around the corner, still yelling a variety of threats at Cassian, his shadows curled around you and your shoulders.

"He kinda works that dress better than I do, huh?" you remarked to them, quietly enough that the words only filled the air near you.

The shadows seemed to ripple in amusement, as if laughing along with you at the scene.

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹

i added a lil explanation given cause lets be fr... cassian wouldnt bother az about the dress (hed probably wanna try one on too and nesta would be pissed hes ripping all of hers) but az LOSING at something....mans is never letting that go!!!!!

tag lists!

permanent tag list 🫶🏻: @rhysandorian @itsswritten @milswrites @lilah-asteria @georgiadixon

@glam-targaryen @nighttimemoonlover

azriel tag list🫶🏻: @thisiskaylin

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justawritterwithideas · 1 year

Text

the green dress effect | s.r

summary: skirts were never to your liking and didn't work for you, until penelope convinces you to try one, and wow, do they work.

warnings: absolutely nothing, enjoy spencer with an IQ of 60. this story is spencer x female reader btw.

words: 1,113.

a/n: I'm finally back with a little au/blurb I wrote during my vacation, I've had more revelations of ideas during them so I hope you like it and wait for them. By the way! Thank you so much for almost 1k likes on the little boyband!spencer blurb, you guys are absolutely crazy, thank you so much! ♡

︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶��︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶

You were never a big fan of skirts.

Any kind of skirt.

They caused irritation between your thighs in summer, the material was itchy, when you walked they lifted up and they were always too small. In addition to the sexist comments from men for wearing them, the whistles in the street and the typical comment of "your skirt is too short, you pretend to seduce someone with it" by men who think it is not their fault, but yours for seducing them.

Under that stigma, the skirt was never an option for everyday wear.

Pants, on the other hand, were more comfortable.

They allowed you to walk around easily, they were easy to match, plus they were always on discount at the supermarket.

And they were much more comfortable to wear when you started working at BAU. In fact, they became your best friend.

You could swear on your family that no one had ever seen you in a skirt or dress. You could count on the fingers of your hand the number of times you wore anything other than your collection of different colored pants.

In winter they were long pants, straight cut, flared leg, tight, all kinds. In summer they were shorts or fisherman cut pants, or they could also be ones with a thinner fabric.

Occasion there was, occasion you had a pair of pants for it, as if it were a Taylor Swift song.

That was until Penelope convinced you to accompany her to a little clothing store, with the excuse that she was looking for some accessories for her new outfit for the arrival of spring.

In front of you was a beautiful green dress fitted to your figure, with a nice loose skirt that allowed you to move without feeling trapped.

It fit you like a glove, in the words of Penelope, your new image consultant. It gave a new touch to your aesthetics without taking away the tranquility that usually surrounded your attire.

You had looked in the mirror a thousand times before you could make up your mind - but Penelope's compliments were the fuel for your confidence and you decided to take it home.

After a long week of work, the day finally came when the only thing that needed to be done was the paperwork.

The case? An unsub in Miami who was looking to regain the attention he had as a child, after being involved in a case where his babysitter at the time was murdered. To make himself relevant again, he decided to imitate these deaths so they could talk about him again as they had done before.

Monday had arrived and you could feel the cool breeze on your legs after getting on the elevator. The dress had been the perfect fit for that cool day at Quantico, plus it lent a cheerful tone to the office filled with shades of black and gray.

The persistent murmur reached the ears of your colleagues, who were already immersed in the reports they had to send at the end of the day. Penelope was the first to see what the distraction was about and was surprised by your new look.

"Look at you! No way, you look beautiful. You look just like a little spring fairy, finally someone who can share my love of cheerful colors." Blondie's arm intertwined with yours and they walked together to the cubicles, hearing Luke's whistle.

"Who are you? Please Garcia, introduce me to your friend" joked Luke looking at Penny, who shook her head.

"In your dreams, Alvez. I saw her first." You laughed at both of their comments, separating from Penny to walk over to your cubicle.

"Nice choice of outfit, you really always have an ace up your sleeve." Rossi commented towards your direction, thanking him for the compliment.

"That was a good play, you left a player more than surprised by your hand." Tara turned in the direction of the kitchen, where Spencer stood dumbfounded looking in your direction.

He was carrying two cups of coffee, actually he was carrying his cup of coffee and your cup of tea. But his usual commute was interrupted by your arrival at the office.

He thought he had seen all the wonders of the world, but he was wrong. He hadn't yet seen you in that green dress, which he was sure was perfect to put you at the top of the wonders of the world.

His cheeks were colored a sweet pink, his pupils had dilated and his heart rate had increased, so much so that his carotid was pounding.

"Hey, Spence." You rose from your seat, approaching the man standing in the middle of the aisle until you were facing him. You brought your hands up to his, taking your cup. "Thanks for the tea, it was just what I needed."

A soft nod was his response.

His eyes scanned from head to toe over your body, feeling it wasn't enough for him to take his eyes off you to observe every detail of you and that green dress.

"What do you think of the dress? I know it's not a usual thing to occupy, but I feel it's a good choice for today's weath- Spence, hello?" your hands passed in front of his eyes, catching his attention. "Earth calling Reid, is anyone there?"

Spencer's intrusive thoughts were interrupted by your sweet voice, who was watching him in search of knowing where his precious brain was at the moment.

"Wait... You don't like me? Geez, that's too bad. I think my choice was bad, I'll see what I'll do with him-"

"You look beautiful."

Your nervous glance went to Spence's face, who was watching you breathlessly.

"Really?"

"Don't put him back, please." Your own words startled him. "I-I mean, i-it wasn't a bad choice, i-it looks spectacular on you, well! You always look spectacular, all the time, every day, that's my opinion! B-but your opinion may be different, I mean.."

A giggle came out of your mouth, stopping Spencer's rambling.

"Thanks for the compliment, maybe for next time you can join me in choosing, I've decided I want to give dresses and skirts another try!”

Spencer nodded, following your lead back to your desks to get back to work. But the last thing Spencer did was work, because his eyes were on you and your cute green dress.

"And that's how the effect of a green dress brings an IQ of 187 down to 60!"

Emily elicited laughter from everyone, but Spencer was so deep in thought from seeing that dress of yours on the floor of his apartment.

︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶

If you like it, don't forget to like and repost it.

a lot of love, alme. ❀

#spencer reid #spencer reid x female reader #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #blurb #spencer reid blurb #spencer reid x you #please #I also want spencer with an iq of 60 to see me in a dress

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sturncrazy · 5 months

Text

PITSTOP🔥

matt sturniolo x y/n (fem)

warnings: SMUT SMUT SMUT nsfw 18 +(exhibitionism?, dom matt, language, unprotected sex, kinda rough, lil kinky at the end)

authors note: writin some matt content for variety 🤌 this is slightly inspired by that one time matt forcibly yanked nick out of the car cause that moment lives in my head rent free.

summary: you and your boyfriend matt are driving home from an event )you were his date) when you get bored and start teasing him more than he can handle

word count: 2,254 w

—————————————————————————

you sighed, stretching you arms above your head to the roof of the car.

“you tired, babe?” Matt questioned, not moving his eyes from the road

“mmm a little” you responded. it was a calm warm night driving along one of the quieter roads. you watched out the window looking at the few stars you could spot in the clear night sky. the car hummed peacefully while Matt’s playlist played low in the background.

You let out a small hiss of pain as you rolled out your ankles, suddenly aware the damage wearing heels for the night had done to you.

“what’s wrong?” Matt asked, concerned.

“nothin, feet just hurt from my shoes”

“oh, take ‘em off? you can put your feet up on the dash. might help with blood flow or somethin” he replied. you took his advice and kicked off the evil pointed toe stilettos you had on after unbuckling the ankle straps. you sighed in relief as you lifted your legs up and stretched them out. the silky black dress you had on had a slit up the left side and as you raised your legs half the fabric slipped between your thighs, exposing your left leg up to the side of your thong.

“woooo look at those legs…gonna make me crash the car if you distract me like that, babe” matt said stealing a glance at your body next to him. you felt a small flutter in your stomach at his comment. Matt had that effect on you so easily. even this far along into your relationship. it only ever took him even suggesting sex for you to be all over him.

“distracting you? whaaaat? i’m just gettin comfy” you teased hiking your dress up all the way and moving your bare legs around slightly.

“cmon y/n, at least wait til we’re home” Matt chuckled trying to keep his peeks at you subtle. you dramatically fussed around in your seat and whined.

“this dress is uncomfy. the straps are itchy”

“mmm” matt mumble ignoring you. you huffed, exasperated that he wasn’t giving you any attention. you whined again and reached to your side to start tugging at your zipper which made a loud sound as you pulled it.

“wha-what are you doing?” matt stuttered looking over at you. he knew that sound.

“i’m taking the top of it off. it’s bugging me.” you stated flatly.

“y/n, you can’t take your dress off in the car”

“i said I’m taking the top of it off. don’t worry i’m not gonna sit here totally buttass naked”

“still what if someone sees or something” matt said worriedly as you started to pull your arms out of the straps, still holding the top part of the dress up to cover your boobs.

“well then, lucky them” you replied letting go of your hold of the fabric. it slipped down easily sitting around your stomach, leaving you exposed from your bellybutton up. the cool air from the cars ac hit your skin making your nipples perk up immediately.

“jesus y/n” matt rasped out, swallowing loudly looking at your exposed tits. you played stupid and turned to him.

“what?”

“you know what. you have your tits out in my car and i’m trying to drive. don’t be dumb with me right now” he huffed getting pissed off at you. his grip tightened on the steering wheel and you felt a wetness start to form between your legs as you watched his tattooed arm muscles flex slightly. you leaned across the arm rest and up to his ear and kissed it lightly and then bit on his earlobe slightly.

“seriously y/n? this is unsafe”

“how far from getting home are we, matty?” you panted into his ear.

“like 25 minutes. now sit back down.” you whined loudly, crashing back into your seat.

“that’s too loonnnggg”

“too long for what”

“to wait. i’m horny now, matty” you said in your brattiest tone.

“so? not my problem. control yourself, y/n” he said ignoring you again. this was the last straw. his seeming lack of interest had pushed you too far. you needed to get under his skin. and you needed something to sooth the building pressure between your legs that was crying for attention. you placed your legs back up on the dash and let your knees fall to either side, leaning one against the window and intentionally dropping the other to give matt as clear of a view as possible. the crotch of your mesh thong was now fully on display. you shivered as the cool air blasting from the vents reached new places. you took a hand and ran it across your still exposed tits before dragging it down your stomach and into the space between your legs. you let out a small moan and threw your head back against your headrest as you began to press your fingers up against the soaked mesh fabric. slowly you pushed it aside and began to run two fingers up and down your slick folds which created an audibly wet sound.

“y/n what the fuck are you doing” matt barked looking over at you.

“fixing my problem since clearly you’re no help” you hissed as you began to drag circles over your clit. you let out another exaggerated moan, bordering on pornographic and closed your eyes. you felt matt make a sharp turn with the car. a few moments later, half still in the trace of your self inflected pleasure, you became aware that the car had stopped moving. you fluttered your eyes open just in time to see matt getting out of the car and slam his door. you had just enough time to process your visible surroundings as he made his way around the car to your side. you were somewhere wooded and darker, pulled off on the side of what looked to be a dead road. maybe matt really had had enough of your toying with him and this is where he’d brought you to get rid of you. you felt your leg fall down, loosing its support, as your side door swung open. before you had time to question what was going on matt yanked you out of the car by your wrist. you stumbled slightly trying to get your footing on the grassy patch beneath you. he slammed his body up against your back and roughly wrapped one arm around your waist to pull you impossibly closer

“bend over the hood of the car” he growled into your ear still behind you

“matt-wha—here? but—“

“you wanna act like a little slut on the road and touch yourself for anyone to see? then you’ll get fucked like a little slut for anyone to see. i said. bend over the fucking hood of the car now.” he snarled before unlatching from your waist and giving you a slight push in his desired direction. you obliged as a combination of nerves and desire stuttered through your body. you reached the hood of the car and leaned over it pressing your stomach and chest with your half-on dress up against the cool metal of the vehicle.

“lift up your dress” matt said firmly from behind you. once again you listened as you bunched up the fabric that covered your legs and ass and tucked it under your upper half to hold it up.

“good girl.” he said and you felt a harsh slap hit your backside. you let out a small shriek at the sensation. it hurt, but in a good way. a way that made you want more. he pushed his crotch, still in his jeans, up against your bare skin.

“you look so fuckable like this, y/n” he said thrusting his covered hardon against you more harshly.

“matt—please” you whined out. he wrapped a fistful of your hair around his wrist and yanked your head back.

“what was that, slut?” he snarled into your ear again.

“please matt— i need you” you panted desperately

“you begging for my cock already, you little whore?” he said slipping a hand around between your legs and beginning to rub his long slender fingers up and down the soaking thin mesh layer covering your pussy. you whimpered uncontrollably at the sensation.

“tell me what you need” he said continuing to send electricity through your body as he rubbed at your pulsing bundle of nerves

“please matt- i - i need you— i need you to fuck me— i need to feel you inside of me right now” you croaked out hearing the sound of a zipper being undone. he shoved the pathetic bit of fabric covering your dripping folds to the side

“that’s my good girl” he cooed sinisterly before slamming into you without warning. you let out a loud cry at the sensation of him so suddenly stretching you out. matt and you had had sex more than a few thousand times, but you’d never quite get used to his size. you heard him grunt as your walls clenched around him.

“fuck i love that tight little pussy” he grunted slowly pulling back out of you.

“so big matt—it—it hurts” you slurred out breathlessly

“oh don’t act like you can’t take it now, baby” he said pushing you harshly down against the car hood, your face smushing up against it slightly before he slammed back into you again filling you up.

“OH GOD MATT” you yelped out in half pain and half ecstasy. he began to thrust into you at a relentless pace. you let out a string of curses and moans so loud and pathetic it put most porn to shame.

“you like when i fuck you like the little slut you are out here for anyone to see?” matt groaned as he slapped your ass again, never letting up on his pace

“fuuuu—yes matt oh fuck” you cried out desperately fighting to breath through his ramming into your dripping hole. he pushed one hand down on your lower back forcing your ass even higher up making his hard length push even deeper into you. you thought the sensation would make you pass out.

“yeah? want everyone to watch me fuck you and see how pathetic you are for my dick, huh?”

“yes yes yes” you moaned

“fuuuucckk you feel so fucking good y/n” he exhaled leaning slightly over you now, supporting himself with his arms on either side of you pressing against the car hood, never stopping his thrusts.

the sound of his hips slapping your ass as he tirelessly slammed his throbbing dick inside of you must’ve been audible from miles away.

“matt shit i’m close” you horsely managed to squeak out

“yeah? you gonna cum all over my cock for me princess?” he said before biting down into the soft flesh of your shoulder. you let out another cry and felt the pit in your stomach of tension start to build up to its final moments.

“cmon babygirl. cum for me” those words sent you over the edge as you let out an unimaginably loud moan and felt yourself ooze your release juices and clench uncontrollably around him. he let out a low growl as his thrusts started becoming more messy.

“oh fuck i’m gonna cum y/n”

“mmm yes matty cum all over my pussy” you said still coming down from your high

“FUCK oh fuck i’m cumming i’m gonna cum” he stuttered pulling out of you abruptly just in time to coat your folds with thick spurts of his hot release. he shuddered collapsing on top of you slightly. you let out a small satisfied mmm as he tried to catch his breath.

“do you want me to try to find you a tissue or something” he said pulling back from you, looking at the mess he’d made of you.

“no” you stated calmly turning to face him.

“i like it this way.” you said readjusting your thong back over your sticky area enjoying the look of both awe and slight embarrassment that flushed matt’s sweet face.

“god your hot” he said pulling you in for a genuine kiss then heading back for his side of the car.

“y’know when we first pulled up here i thought you’d actually brought me out here to kill me” you laughed climbing back into the passenger seat and shutting the door behind you.

“what? cmon y/n, you know i’d never hurt you” said matt as he settled into his seat seemingly truly concerned by your accusation

“no no i know trust me”

“i mean i might fuck you so hard you wish you were dead, but that’s a different story” he said bashfully looking at his feet, he’s usual shyness taking back over slightly. both adorable and hot. he really could do no wrong. you giggled lightly and leaned over giving him a kiss on the cheek.

“i love you matty” you said sweetly

“i love you too, y/n” he said smiling at you. you grinned back at him still leaning over your seat loving getting to look at his face this close up. you always adored those big blue eyes. he blinked at you softly and then peered down your gaping dress raising his eyebrows dramatically.

“think you have a round two in you when we get home?” he asked with a grin

“maaattt” you said giving him a small slap on the chest

“what?”

“you’re not tired after that whole display?” you questioned

“oh please y/n, we’re just getting started” he said starting the car engine.

————————————————————————— uhh lowkey i rly like this one??

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ddejavvu · 7 months

Note

hellooo, could I request for animagus!reader and Sirius where they have heated conversations and reader is the type of cat that’s talkative like just meows a lot and Sirius responds back while Remus and James are just 🧍‍♂️🧍‍♂️ they stare back in confusion. Thanks!!

"I'm not saying you can't sleep in my sweaters, I'm saying you've gotta keep your claws to yourself," Sirius glares at you, holding up the sleeve of a cable-knit white sweater that's fraying from the unfortunate snag of your claws, "Y'think this was cheap, pet?"

You let out a rather vicious meow, one that sounds like it may have hurt your throat. James doesn't know much about cats, but he presumes you can have sore throats just like humans can. He wonders if you've ever woken up in your human form with a sore throat from shouting at Sirius in your cat form, but he'll ask you later when you're not so preoccupied.

"Don't take up that tone with me," Sirius chides you, and when your response is even more intense, he scoffs, "Watch your language! If you keep talking to me like that I'm telling Lily you want her to make you another sweater."

Properly daunted by the possibility of having to wear not just one, but two itchy sweaters, you dart from Sirius's wardrobe and escape through the door that Remus has just opened. You manage to dodge his feet as he steps into the dorm room, and Sirius scoffs at your attitude.

"She's a brat." Sirius declares, and Remus shuts the door with a raised brow.

"Arguing again?" The boy asks, and James nods in tandem with Sirius.

"What did she say this time?" Remus drops his bag onto the bed, toeing off his shoes and throwing an amused glance at James.

"I shouldn't repeat it," Sirius looks grim as he tucks his near-ruined sweater back into his drawer, "Let's just say she's calling me names I've never even heard before, and somehow I still know she's using them right."

#ddejaqqueue #sirius black x reader #sirius black imagine #sirius black scenario #sirius black oneshot #sirius black one-shot #sirius black one shot #sirius black headcanon #sirius black headcanons #sirius black hc #sirius black hcs #sirius black fanfiction #sirius black fanfic #sirius black fic #sirius black blurb #sirius black drabble #sirius black dialogue #sirius black fluff #sirius black x reader fanfiction

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lovifie · 13 days

Text

141 Task Force Men and what piece of clothing they would steal.

(No smutty, just these fine gentlemen being little rats that steal your clothes)

Price💸

First of all, he would steal everything.

Especially if you lived together.

"What do you mean I can't grab your jacket to go buy some bread? Bla, bla, bla. I'll be back before you miss it."

"Oh, these are your socks? I was wondering when I had bought such bright colour ones."

"Why are you wearing my raincoat, John?" "Excuse me? Is mine!" "No, it's not!!"

In his mind, if he is planning to share his life with you, it simply makes sense for him to share everything else.

But there is something he is stealing over everything else, and those are booty shorts.

My man is overheating in this global warmed world, and he is looking on his closest for some shorts when he stumbles upon your booty shorts.

They are ridiculously short, basically legalized underwear he can wear outside; but this is the coolest he has felt since summer started, so he isn't stopping.

After all, who is going to tell the military captain what to wear?

Plus, when you wake up in the morning you are greeted by him in the kitchen making coffee and booty shorts with "juicy" written on them.

Extra: The two of you have an extensive collection of hats, that he technically doesn't steal from because it's shared.

Extra x2: He owns the "Woman want me, Fish fear me."

Ghost 💀

Your sweaters

It all started the first night he went to your house.

He was wearing a leather jacket, and although he looked illegally hot; it was obvious it was not the comfiest jacket to be chilling ii.

So you offered him your fave sweater, a massive one that could almost work as a blanket.

At first, he rejects your offer, afraid that it will be itchy and he will offend you; but his complaints get shut when you ask him to please feel it.

Instantly tries it own, the massive sweater looking loose on his as well. The image of the behemoth of a man, all black, balaclava (no mask) still on... And the fluffiest sweater on melting your heart.

The next time he visited your house he didn't even wait for you to open the door before taking his jacket off: "....can I put on your sweater?"

They are kind of his guilty pleasure, he would never admit how much he likes them and even less to other person but you.

But you only need to see how he buries himself on the sweater when he sits down on the sofa.

If he was amazing to cuddle with before, now it's even better.

Extra: I also like to think of him having a random ear piercing, and whenever he wears just the surgical mask or no mask in general; he would steal one of your dangling earrings to wear. Playing with it throughout the whole night out.

Soap 🧼

Baby tees

Every single one of them.

He keeps saying they make their muscles look amazing (they do)

He likes the ones with drawings or photos, but his favourites are the ones with texts.

Cue to him wearing tight ass shirts saying such as: "Small tits, big heart", "I got my clit pierced at Claire's" or "Don't bully me, I'll cum :("

You don't even remember why you bought them, mostly they are gifts from Secret Santa but you are so, so glad they found their way to your closet.

He wears them proudly, not even realising the stares.

When you go online shopping he's always cuddling on your side, leaving one of your arms useless with the way he cuddles it.

If he sees a tee he likes he just makes you stop scrolling and add it to the basket like: "It'll look good in you too."

There is also a small collection of them, the ones you genuinely like that don't let him wear. Not after he put one on, started flexing his arms and back and ripped it.

Just staring at you with guilt on his eyes and his tits out.

Gaz ⛽

Your shirts.

The ugliest, most colourful, eye-sore, extravagant shirt that you might own? He's taking them.

You are cleaning your closet one day and you pull out an offense to your eyes, mumbling about what where you thinking when you bought it and Gaz sees it and is like: °o°

He's taking it.

Getting ready for a costume party, you decide to dress up as Master Roshi from Dragon Ball (fake beard and everything) but you are missing the ugly shirt.

You remember seeing it not too long ago in your closet but you can't find it. So you ask your boyfriend.

And you find him wearing it, spraying cologne on telling you that he is also going out with his mates and asking how do you look.

Little shit does pull it off, so you don't lie when you tell him he looks fantastic.

You still have plenty of ugly shirts for your costume.

Extra: He would steal all your jewerly, rings, bracelets, necklaces, you name it. Just little bits all over his outfit; "It signs the deal, babe." They do.

Extra x2: He is always waiting for somebody to compliment any of your things he is wearing to have an excuse to talk about you, Soap is tired of hearing him mumble about you whenever he drinks.

@crashtestbunny @going-to-ikea-for-the-fries @waiting-so-long @mothymunson @cod-z

@lyralein @whos-fran @thevoidwriting @sklt987659 @dumb12bvtch1212

@thatonepupkai @darkangel4121 @spadekip @herefor-tojis-tits @soupinasock

@arbesa-mind @cmbghost @multifandomheathenannie @tooloudarts @panikk-attackkk

@reap3erslov3 @mothsdrabbles @ghosts-hoe @cassiecasluciluce @sleepdeprivedkat

@lunamoonbby @hatterripper31 @contractedcriteria @vxnilla-hxrddrugs @fraserbraw

@rosiehale23 @keiva1000 @sw33tsnow @loveandplanet @sobbingnshtting

@dprmoon @simpsallthetime1997 @ladyxtiger @soapsmohawk-16 @nina6708

@katreintjie @sacvh @thesinsoflust @sodavrr @yuki2129

@idk-justkane @shanhalen @mikaronn @thatoneslvt @crinoid90

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bluecollarmcandtf · 2 months

Text

The New Garbageman

Lance slowed from his run and glanced at the trash compactor sitting outside his apartment complex. He needed to catch his breath, but he hated being so close. The young man gave a disdainful look to the laborer who seemed wholly unbothered by his choice in career. 'Some men are just meant for menial crap like this,' he thought to himself, 'God knows I wouldn't be caught dead doing it.'

The jogger looked straight ahead as he passed, not wanting to make eye contact with the sucker lugging away a week's worth of his building's refuge. Lance thought the smell alone was enough to make him gag, but he was even more disturbed by the garbageman's indifference to the squishy contents leaking all over his clothes.

'At what point is that worker just considered trash himself?' Lance pondered with a grimace.

Just as he was about to escape into the entrance of the complex, a sharp ripping noise sounded behind him, followed by a clamour of things crashing to the ground.

Lance made the mistake of looking back, seeing a huge mess scattered across the sidewalk. It looked like a garbage can had exploded and now there was rotten food and crumpled papers everywhere, but that damn sanitation worker had vanished!

"The hell!" Lance shouted in anger, but his rage didn't last long.

A sudden pain stabbed him in the back and he crumpled to the ground like all the garbage had moments before. Everything went black...

Lance shook off the daze and found himself leaning against one of the garbage bins. The pain in his back didn't feel as acute anymore. All he could feel was an unusual warmth spreading from where he had been stung.

"Where is that goddamn garbage man," he growled, wincing at the litter surrounding him. He was ready to give that idiot a piece of his mind.

He put his hand on the concrete in an attempt to get himself up, but was surprised by the feeling of gloves over his fingers. Lance stared at his gloved palms with total confusion. He was sure as hell that he didn't put those old worn things on!

Then he noticed his shoes. They weren't the sneakers he'd been jogging in moments before. They were some kind of work boots!

"What the hell!" he exclaimed, wondering if he'd actually been knocked out and robbed.

Lance pushed his fears aside and began climbing to his feet, but as he did, he noticed something had appeared over his shoulders!

"Where'd this come from?" he cried, becoming more and more angry as articles of clothing just kept appearing on his body.

He was positive this dirty old jacket didn't belong to him. It was covered with stains and reeked like a public bathroom. Lance had a habit of always keeping his clothes freshly laundered and fragranced. He wouldn't even wear jeans two days in a row without washing them, so what was this raggedy work jacket doing in his back?

Lance frantically started to pull the thing off, but it seemed stuck on his waistband or something. No amount of thrashing could get him to pull the thing over his head!

He moaned in frustration and threw his fists down angrily. Then, he noticed why the jacket wouldn't come off. It took him a second to realize what he was looking at. The jacket was attached to the new pants he had on!

Lance shouted out in a state of confused panic. "Help!" he cried, not knowing what else to do, but even if someone did come over, what would he tell them? They'd never believe that his clothes were magically being replaced!

He couldn't even bring himself to look down at what he was wearing. Gone were his running shorts and tank top. In their place, a gross old jumpsuit had enveloped his body. Lance was struck by the itchiness of the course material, but he was even more horrified by how damp it felt against his skin. He didn't want to know what liquid those coveralls were saturated with; oil, sweat, or something even worse?

Lance couldn't find his phone in any of his new attire's pockets. He didn't know what was going on, but he was about to start screaming if he didn't find out soon. His breathing intensified while his heart raced out of his chest. He could feel the panic attack coming.

Then all of a sudden, he stopped...

That warm feeling in his back had washed over his entire body and told every tense muscle to relax. Lance's heart rate eased and his breathing slowed. The confusion, worry, and panic in his face was gone: a numb expression sat in its place.

Lance didn't understand why he had suddenly become so calm. Internally, he was still disgusted, horrified, and outraged, but he couldn't deny how relaxed his body had became.

Finally able to gain his bearing, the former jogger climbed up from the ground and gave his new outfit another look.

"What the hell is this thing," he wondered, but his voice had a comparatively lifeless tone.

Lance studied the clothing. The boots were caked with dirt and grime. He could feel his feet sweating inside them. In fact, his entire body felt like it was being cooked. He was completely covered from the neck down with some pretty heavy duty work wear. It was all clothing he would never be caught dead in, yet it looked kind of familiar.

Suddenly it, clicked.

"I'm dressed a goddamn garbage man," Lance spoke again with a monotoned voice.

Then his mouth moved on its own, "I am a garbage man."

The words chilled him to the core. He had not meant to say them! That warm feeling that started in his back had moved to his throat and taken over.

Before he knew it, his hands were moving on their own too. They were picking up the trash littered around him! His legs moved to, crawling his body across the concrete, and Lance couldn't do anything to stop himself.

His mouth wouldn't open when he tried! He wanted to scream! His arms and legs weren't doing what he wanted either. He was trapped in his own body! Lance couldn't speak; he couldn't run; he couldn't hide; he couldn't even panic. His own heart beat at a steady pace like he was the calmest man in the world! His lungs systematically drew in breath after calm breath, and his face was locked in an empty look of indifference...

Lance would have to get used to being around the trash. He was a garbageman now...

One Year Later...

Lance had never imagined he'd be trapped as a garbage collector for this long. His body hadn't let him look back once since he walked away from his old life. Who knows what happened to his apartment and family. He'd long since given up on the idea of ever going back to his old life.

His days were now spent being puppettered to take out other people's trash. It was disgusting hard work that he got no thanks for, but that didn't matter. He wasn't in control of his body, and his body just kept lugging rank bags of garbage day after day after day.

He'd been subjected to millions of dirty looks as people caught sight of him. Lance knew he must seem pathetic. He was sure he smelled even worse. How could anyone respect a man like him? Even after a year, his face still burnt red when someone looked grossed out by him.

The discomfort of his uniform has become normal to Lance. It was itchy and humid under there, which made sense since it hadn't been washed in the all the time he'd had it on.

Well, that wasn't entirely true...

Every night after work, his body would hop on the garbage truck and get dropped off at the sanitation department's parking garage. There he and the rest of the garbage crew would hose each other down. It didn't do much other than make him cold, but at least he got that.

After the makeshift shower, he and the rest of the guys would file into the garage. Lance assumed that every one of the laborers were being used as puppets like him, because they appeared just as numb and lifeless as he did. There was no chummy chitchat; there were no friendly waves or claps on the back; hell there wasn't even a smile or frown on any of their faces.

All the garbagemen acted like robotic slaves for unpaid labor, which is exactly what they were.

Lance's theory was that when he'd felt that pain a year ago, he'd had some sort of Syfy-futuritic-techno crap inserted in his back. It had to be controlling his actions. He could feel it on his spine, sending signals to the resto for his body for how to behave.

It was just a theory. He couldn't prove or disprove anything when he had no autonomy over his own body.

So he was stuck seeing himself play out the same awful routine everyday. 'At least the day's almost over,' he thought to himself. At least he could still dream of a life where he didn't wear this disgusting uniform and pick up garbage all day.

Lance's body joined the rest of the men on the floor. This was where they spent their nights. Whoever was controlling them was clearly too cheap to buy them beds let alone showers or laundry machines

It usually got pretty bleak in there: a whole room of men that aren't allowed to talk or interact outside of working together. There was nothing else to do but sleep, so Lance slid down to the concrete and closed his eyes, wondering if he would ever be anything other than a smelly garbageman ever again.

He thought back to his old life, dreaming about that last morning run he'd gotten before all this happened. He fantasized about what would have happened if he'd just ran around the block one more time.

Would he have avoided this fate or was he just destined for menial crap like this?

Thanks for the Ask, workgearfan

#mind control #blue collar #gay mind control #humiliated slave #meat puppets

462 notes · View notes

teaboot · 2 months

Note

does the itchy vulva answer apply to itchy clitoris? i think the vulva is just the “lips” but i don’t really know

also i don’t wanna shave down there just bc it makes it itchy due to irritation & causes ingrown hairs and it’s just annoying to do, but i didn’t know it made infections and stuff more likely! i’ve had to visit my mom’s gynecologist for period stuff, and she had me shave so i would be less gross for the doctor to look at i guess? and when the doctor was doing my exam she commented that i shouldn’t shave due to the irritation thing, but i wish i knew about what you said!! are infections and diseases more common because the hair somehow acts as a shield? how’s it work if not? sorry for the long ask

The vulva is the whole outside part- clitoris, labia (the "lips"), urethra, and vaginal opening. The vagina is inside your body- the 'tunnel' part- but most people just refer to the whole damn basement as the vagina, which isn't medically accurate. So yes, itching sensations in the "vulva" could apply to all these outer areas.

Gynecologists do not care. They have seen everything. They have seen hairy people and waxed people and young people and old people. They've seen infections and diseases and disorders and scarring and injuries. I promise they do not think hair is gross. You do not have to shave. It is 2pm on a Tuesday at the office for them. It's fine.

Hair maximizes surface area and protects the skin, which is delicate around genital areas, from cold, heat, drying, and friction. It traps dust, dead skin, bacteria, and debris before it can migrate to areas which are vulnerable to infection, like your vagina and urethra. There's nothing wrong with trimming hair if you choose to, but it grows the way it does for a reason.

If you DO choose to shave, follow the grain and use a gentle moisturizer. Wear breathable underwear and wash the area when you bathe with clean water, no soap.

Do whatever you want with your body, just remember to research first.

Just a reminder that I am not a medical professional. For any questions regarding your body personally, I always 100% recommend asking your doctor.

Fantastic questions!

#Body health #Reproductive health #bodily autonomy

416 notes · View notes

spookyserenades · 3 months

Text

Trouvaille - Chapter Fourteen (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; 22.3k

Trouvaille Masterlist

Trouvaille playlist

Updates on the 7th of each month

HELLOOOO BESTIES!!! I'm so so so excited to share this update with you all. We've got the angst, the fluff, the feels, the conflict, and... SMUT! I've worked really hard on this update, and I'd love to know what you all think 🥺 Thank you for supporting me, sending me wonderful messages, and HAPPY ONE YEAR OF TROUVAILLE AHHHH!!!! 💕💕

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!

Much love from Dana, enjoy!!

Previous Chapter // Next Chapter

Y/N chewed the inside of her cheek raw, gawking stupidly at Seokjin and Hannah tearfully embracing several feet away. The moment felt so private, so intimate, that every instinct in Y/N’s body was screaming at her to look away or bolt back to her car. Under the awkwardness she was feeling, itchy envy was crawling all over her skin, the sherpa coat she was wearing beginning to feel stiflingly hot.

She watched as Hannah gracefully touched her feet back to the ground, the cat hybrid’s hands frantically roaming over the front of Seokjin’s lavender puffer jacket, her light eyebrows pulled together, almost as if she was checking to make sure Seokjin was truly in front of her.

“You were bleeding…” Hannah murmured, Y/N realizing that she was probably trying to find lingering injuries from the Cirque Mystique incident many months ago. “I thought you were…”

Seokjin grasped at Hannah’s wrists gently to halt her hands from tracking all over his coat, a look of regret on his face as he began to recall the night of the tent fire, without a doubt.

“I didn’t know what happened to you, either,” Seokjin appeared to be squeezing Hannah’s wrists tightly, the two of them in their own little bubble.

“Han, sweetheart, why don’t we head inside? It’s freezing out here,” a young woman emerged from behind a silver SUV, approaching Hannah and Seokjin with a kind smile. Y/N assumed the woman must be Sarah, Hannah’s adoptive guardian, and upon her interruption of the moment between the two hybrids, Y/N regained the ability to move her limbs again.

“Oh, you’re right,” Hannah broke away from Seokjin sheepishly, burying her hands in the pockets of her peacoat. “Jinnie doesn’t like the cold, I got a little ahead of myself.”

Something about the way Hannah used the nickname “Jinnie” rubbed Y/N the wrong way, no matter how unfounded her jealousy seemed to be. Seokjin was always irked whenever Hoseok called him that, but he didn’t seem to mind it coming from Hannah’s mouth. Physically shaking the thought from her head by plastering a friendly expression on her face, she approached the three who appeared to have forgotten Y/N was even there.

“You must be Y/N! Nice to meet you,” Hannah was the first to spot Y/N after she delicately sniffed the air and turned to her, the cat hybrid brushing past Seokjin and surprisingly pulled Y/N into a hug. “Thank you for taking care of Jinnie!”

Y/N willed herself to not be stiff as a board, immediately hugging Hannah back as she was aware she was being watched by Sarah and Seokjin. Hannah smelled like spring flowers and fresh laundry, and her silky strawberry-blonde hair tickled Y/N’s chilled cheeks. She could feel Hannah purring with Y/N’s palms pressed to her upper back, Y/N certainly not expecting Hannah to react to her presence in this way. Perhaps Hannah could trace Seokjin’s scent lingering on her, even though it had been several months since Seokjin had last given her a bite.

“O-oh, don’t thank me, Hannah. I think most times, he takes care of me,” Y/N was embarrassed, Hannah pulling away with a chuckle. “It’s nice to finally meet you, too!”

“That’s Jinnie for you. Like a mother hen,” Hannah bit her lip, Y/N being unable to do anything but silently agree. “Let’s go inside before we have to defrost him!”

Y/N nodded quickly, peering over Hannah’s shoulder to see what Seokjin was doing– he was talking to Sarah shyly while blowing warm air into his fists.

“Come on, Jinnie,” Hannah skipped back to the jaguar hybrid, Y/N soaking in how tall and lithe Hannah was, looking like the perfect match for beautiful Seokjin.

When the cat hybrid hooked her hand around Seokjin’s elbow to lead him towards the entrance of the brewery, Y/N desperately hoped she wasn’t filling the parking lot with the scent of jealousy like toxic gas.

“Y/N, I’ve heard wonderful things from Ben Alpin. I’m so glad we could get these two together before we move,” Sarah began to walk in-stride with Y/N, trailing after the two hybrids in front of them. “Hannah was so excited, she hardly got any sleep last night.”

“Same for Seokjin. I think he must have texted me six different outfit options in the middle of the night,” Y/N glanced at Sarah, who appeared to be in her early thirties, closer to Hannah and Seokjin’s ages than her. She had curly brunette hair, shocking gray eyes, and a sort of confidence that she had only really seen Ben possessing before. Maybe it was a lawyer thing.

Y/N made small talk with Sarah from the time they walked into the brewery to when they were seated in a booth, not wanting to disturb the hybrid’s conversation. Y/N paused before the booth that the hostess led them to, not knowing where to sit until Seokjin promptly slid into the spot beside Hannah, Y/N’s heart in her throat. She tried not to look too weirded out when she took her seat across from her jaguar hybrid, who usually fought tooth and nail to get a spot beside her in any other scenario.

Though Seokjin had assured her that whatever romance he had with Hannah was long since over and done with, Y/N couldn’t help but analyze every single interaction between them with unease. She knew she was being ridiculous, possessive, and a bit selfish– for Christ’s sake, Seokjin didn’t even know how Y/N felt about him, but her emotions were impossible to rein in and control. Hannah was bubbly, funny, sweet, and absolutely gorgeous; freckles smattered across her cheekbones and button nose, a full, pretty mouth with a deep cupid’s bow, and her eyes were a paler version of Seokjin’s copper penny irises. It was impossible to not feel a little jealous of the cat hybrid.

“Have you been here before, Jinnie, Y/N? Any recommendations?” Hannah flipped through her menu, bottom lip between her teeth as she scanned it.

“We came here a little while ago, with the others and Y/N’s friend Alice,” Seokjin replied, his looking so pleased Y/N swore his cheeks were rosy with delight. “I like the soft pretzels, and the house burger was pretty good!”

All Y/N wanted was a fat pint of beer. She was going to need it if she was going to get through that lunch without having to excuse herself to the bathroom to have an anxiety barf.

“Y/N, you should get that citrusy beer again. You liked it so much last time,” Seokjin read her thoughts, Y/N feeling like strolling to the bar and opening her mouth under the nearest tap.

“Mm, that’s what I was thinking, too, honey,” Y/N murmured, gluing her eyes to her menu.

“Good afternoon, welcome to Salem’s, can I get you started on something to drink?” Their waiter appeared, and thankfully it was an older gentleman with a pot-belly, rather than handsome Lindsay-Buckingham-lookalike from last time.

With drink orders in place, Y/N opting to stay away from the beer flight lest she become drunk and bold by ordering a simple pint, she fished around in her brain for some kind of conversation topic that would occupy everyone until the beers arrived.

“So, Y/N, Jinnie told me that you used to work as a veterinarian, that’s how you knew how to treat his injuries,” Hannah broke the ice first, though it seemed that Y/N was the only one actually feeling the iciness. The other three at the table looked merry and at ease, and Y/N could only hope she didn’t look as rigid as she felt.

“Yeah, I was. Right before I adopted him, that same night, in fact, I took my leave from the hospital I was working at. I wasn’t sure at the time if the job was the right fit for me, so I wanted to take time to sort out my feelings…” Y/N rambled, Hannah’s pretty face open and kind as she nodded along to her words. “Seokjin wasn’t in too bad of shape, he had a fever that had spiked and a gash on his side, but both were treated quickly before he got an infection.”

“Hannah, weren’t you hurt too? That night…” Seokjin took the attention off of himself, a blush forming on the apples of his cheeks.

“I was fine. Just a sprained ankle, miraculously. The company was only going to let me take two nights off, and that’s when Donovan gave me Sarah’s card. I called her right away,” Hannah patted Seokjin’s shoulder fondly, using her free hand to gratefully accept her beer from Y/N across the table.

“Donovan?” Sarah cocked her head quizzically. Y/N wondered if Sarah was as much in the dark with her hybrid’s past as she was– with all seven of them, nonetheless.

“Donovan is one of the only members of the company that actually cared about us. Even though he worked there with ticketing, he always made sure that we had as many comforts as he could smuggle in for us. Extra blankets, food, books. He even got us an old TV with a stack of DVDs one time. He helped a couple of us out when we’d get injured, I guess he caught wind of your office and you in particular around the city, how you take on cases for hybrids free of cost,” Hannah’s fingers danced around the wooden table as she explained, before landing on top of Sarah’s hand and squeezing with a wistful smile.

“We owe him a lot,” Seokjin added quietly, tracing an index finger around the rim of his beer glass.

“I’d like to think our new lives, a chance at happiness, is repayment enough for him,” Hannah shook her head, Y/N once again feeling like she was intruding, the gravity of the conversation making her squirm in her seat. She took a steady gulp of her beer, and thankfully the waiter had returned to take their food orders.

“Hannah and I were thinking,” Sarah began after the waiter ambled away, stirring her gin cocktail with a little black straw. “Once we’re settled in New York, perhaps mid-spring, you and Seokjin can come to visit? There’s a hotel right by our new apartment, so please feel free to bring the rest of your family, too. Maybe we could go see some live music in the area, get good food? What do you think?”

Seokjin immediately made eye contact with Y/N, hope rounding out his sunset stare, and she felt everyone at the table waiting for her response. In all honesty, it was a nice idea– a little getaway would be a lot of fun for both her and the hybrids, and there was really no excuse to disappoint Seokjin by saying no. While she was certainly jealous of the close relationship between him and Hannah, it would be cruel to separate them indefinitely.

“That sounds like a great time! Maybe around the middle of April? I’d have to give notice to my boss, but I think a trip would be lots of fun,” Y/N perked up, thinking about all of the activities she could focus on during their vacation rather than the fact that she had a little green monster raging around in her stomach.

“April would definitely work! I should be settled in my new office, and Hannah will have her routine with the gymnastics team, as well, by then,” Sarah shaking Hannah’s hand excitedly, Y/N realizing that they had been holding hands for quite some time. The sight had her thinking about how Seokjin always threaded his fingers through hers, almost constantly.

“It’s settled, then. Can you send me the information about the hotel, please? I’ll book rooms as soon as I get the time off for the vacation,” Y/N couldn’t help but grin fondly at the way Seokjin and Hannah’s shared gleeful expressions, Hannah leaning her shoulder into Seokjin’s.

After a bit of discussion surrounding activities in the town Sarah and Hannah were planning to move to, the food arrived, Y/N giggling when Seokjin cut half of his steak to divide into three, delivering a slice to each woman at the table with a concentrated pout.

“See? What did I say? Mother hen,” Hannah remarked, popping a French fry into her mouth with a smirk. “I always used to say Jinnie’s love language was sharing his food.”

“You shouldn’t tease your friend when he has food in his mouth, Han,” Sarah scolded, but there was no real reproachfulness in her tone. Seokjin was in the middle of trying to wash down a piece of steak that got lodged in his throat with a swig of beer, taken off guard and apparently very embarrassed.

“Y/N and I are going to a cooking class next month,” Seokjin quickly changed the subject after he recovered, his eyes still slightly watering and ears pressed flat against his head.

“Really? That’s something you’ve wanted to do forever,” Hannah set down her burger, looking from the jaguar hybrid to Y/N, Seokjin furiously nodding.

“She got me tickets for my birthday,” Seokjin confirmed, now staring at Y/N with an expression on his face that had her heart racing. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught Hannah casting a look at Y/N’s chest, one of her peachy triangular ears flickering. “One of the other hybrids we live with, Yoongi, has been teaching me some basic cooking skills.”

Y/N fumbled for her phone in her purse, preparing to show Sarah and Hannah some pictures of her other hybrids when they asked about them. Ben, evidently, hadn’t told Sarah exactly how many hybrids Y/N had adopted.

“Wow, Ben wasn’t joking! You’ve got a big family, here,” Sarah exclaimed, grinning at a picture of Seokjin, Hoseok, and Jimin feeding the chickens in the backyard– the rooster nipping at Hoseok’s heels and the other two pointing and laughing at the fox hybrid. “You all get along?”

“For the most part,” Seokjin answered honestly, dabbing his mouth with a napkin as he polished off the last of his entree. “Hannah, you’d like Hoseok. He’s a lot like you.”

“Oh, a clown?” Hannah cracked a self-deprecating joke, Seokjin rolling his eyes but nodding in response.

“Oof, that wolf hybrid… he’s a doll,” Hannah pointed at a picture of Namjoon Y/N had snapped of him outside by his van; wrapped up in a scarf with the tip of his nose pink from the cold and snowflakes dusting his hair and ears. Seokjin snorted, muttering under his breath.

“Joonie? Yeah, he’s handsome,” Y/N agreed without thinking, zooming into Namjoon’s face, able to make out tiny snowflakes clinging to his long eyelashes. “All of my boys are.”

Sarah and Hannah chuckled, Y/N handing over her phone to let the two of them scroll through her camera roll by themselves, returning to her meal with a warm feeling spreading in her chest. At that point, since the adoptions, she had well over a thousand pictures of all of the hybrids, and she had half a mind to get a bunch of them printed for a scrapbook.

The odd sensation of being watched washed over her suddenly, Y/N taking her attention off of the two with her phone to look for the source of it– finding Seokjin studying her carefully, appearing deep in thought. She smiled at him, tentatively, considering she wasn’t used to Seokjin eyeing her in such a serious way, and he snapped out of it quickly, grinning cutely back.

The four of them ordered another round of drinks after the entrees were cleared away, Y/N wanting the lunch to last a little longer than normal for Seokjin and Hannah’s sake. It would be a few months until they’d get to see each other again, Y/N taking a sip of her beer calmly as she noted the two hybrids exchanging phone numbers. Sarah was in the middle of sending Y/N all of the information she needed to book hotel rooms for her and her hybrids in April. Y/N supposed the issue of how many rooms she’d need to book and who would room with who would be a headache for much, much later.

“Let’s split some desserts! Want to share the lava cake, Y/N?” Hannah flipped through the small dessert menu, her speech a little loosened from the two pints of beer she had drank. Hannah was pretty slight, so apparently it didn’t take much for her to get tipsy.

“We got that last time,” Seokjin informed her, Y/N giggling at the way Hannah rolled her eyes at Seokjin. “I wanna try something else.”

“Then try something else. I was talking to Y/N,” Hannah slid the menu towards Y/N, a smirk on her face.

“I split it with you, Hannah. It was really good,” Y/N lightly nudged Seokjin with her foot under the table when he began pouting pathetically. “Get anything you want, honey, if there’s leftovers you can just bring it home for later.”

Y/N encouraged Seokjin to order whatever he wanted, Hannah snorting at how much Seokjin perked up after Y/N spoke. Y/N could see why she and Seokjin had become so close over the years; there were several similarities Y/N had noticed Hannah had to Hoseok, and that was likely why Seokjin was able to become such good friends with the fox hybrid right away. Y/N could even see Hannah fitting in well with her own friend group, with her, the Santos twins, and Ben… Y/N found the longer she sat in the booth and got to know the cat hybrid, the more she liked her. Whether or not that placated or heightened her jealousy, Y/N couldn’t decide.

“Keep in touch, until April, alright?” Sarah placed a friendly hand on Y/N’s forearm, as they stood outside of the brewery’s bathrooms. “I’m going to use the bathroom before we hit the road, can you stay with Hannah?”

Y/N nodded, comfortable enough to be alone with the cat hybrid by now, considering Seokjin had also disappeared to wash his hands in the men’s room. Y/N turned, lingering around the hostess’ booth with Hannah, the young woman already looking at her– in a similar way Seokjin was studying her earlier.

“This place is pretty good, huh? Isn’t that lava cake delicious?” Y/N began, Hannah nodding with a soft smile on her face. “It was really nice to meet you. Seokjin told me so many wonderful things.”

Hannah chuckled, though she still looked a little serious, her shoulders squared with importance. Y/N could feel her phone buzzing in her pocket with several texts, but ignored them once she realized that Hannah had something to say, unease curling in her gut.

“Y/N, I want to thank you again for taking care of Seokjin. He seems really happy with you,” Hannah took up one of Y/N’s hands, her skin like warm silk. “I should tell you though. He has a soft heart, please be careful with it.”

Y/N blinked stupidly, torn between being offended and grateful. Hopefully masking those emotions, Y/N simply nodded, wondering if it was obvious to Hannah how Y/N felt about Seokjin.

“Seokjin had a lot of… um, incidents with fans of the circus. People who claimed to love him, bringing him gifts, making him promises. He was always let down in the end. It chipped away at his confidence, I think. I’m not saying you’re like that, but I don’t know if he’ll survive another heartbreak.”

Y/N felt the smile melt from her face, soaking in what Hannah had to say with nausea beginning to take over. She didn’t even know what to say in response to that, and Hannah’s expression was guarded as she caught the agitation coming off of Y/N in waves.

“I’d never… treat him like that. Seokjin is safe with me,” Y/N composed herself, understanding where Hannah was coming from, and all at once feeling sad for Seokjin. “I care about him, about all of my boys, more than anything.”

Hannah’s guarded expression softened a tad, hearing the fierce sincerity in Y/N’s words, squeezing her hand once before letting go.

“Thank you. I believe you,” Hannah murmured, Y/N nodding once and trying to steady her galloping heartbeat. “You’re a good person, Y/N.”

With that, Hannah looked over Y/N’s shoulder, a blush forming over her cheeks as she gave Y/N one last hand squeeze, Sarah returning from the bathroom wrapped up in her coat and scarf. The fondness that she’d sometimes see lighting up her own hybrid’s faces was mirrored in Hannah’s expression when the cat hybrid saw Sarah, which had Y/N forgiving her for being so forward with her. Truthfully, she was just trying to be protective of Seokjin, in her own way, and Y/N couldn’t be too upset with Hannah just for that.

Seokjin appeared moments later, and Y/N was confident he didn’t hear her and Hannah’s conversation considering he was in sky-high spirits, zipping Y/N’s coat for her with a grin and making sure the collar covered up the vulnerable skin of her throat.

Finally, after what seemed like hours, the four of them were saying their goodbyes, Sarah leaving to warm up the car while Seokjin and Hannah shared their last few moments together. Similarly, after bidding Hannah a goodbye, Y/N made somewhat of a beeline to her car to avoid watching the two hybrids emotionally embrace again, grumbling at the way her phone was blowing up in her pocket. Once in the icy cab of her car, jacking up the heat all the way, she fumbled for the device, squeaking at the messages crowding her screen.

Before she could check to see who was trying to reach her so desperately, her phone started ringing– and it was her boss, Judy, who never typically bothered her on a day off. Promptly, she picked up, keeping an eye on the blur of lavender making up Seokjin’s coat.

“Hi, Judy, is everything alright?” Y/N cleared her throat, which was rather dry after the interaction with Hannah.

“Everything’s fine, dear, I was just checking up on you. About your decision, have you talked to your two hybrids about doing the investigations and cleansings?”

Shit. Between everything with Yoongi and tip-toeing around, finally solidifying that day’s plan at the brewery, and the holidays, she had forgotten to ask Namjoon and Jeongguk about how they’d feel about making a little cash on the side with her. Exhaling slowly, Y/N pinched the bridge of her nose.

“I’m sorry, Judy, I haven’t gotten around to it yet. The holidays were a little overwhelming. I can talk to them this evening, though.”

“Don’t worry about it, Y/N. Our holiday season this year was quite busy, as well… relatives coming from all corners of the country. I’m only asking, however, because there’s a young mother who has contacted me about an entity in her home, bothering her children. She’s desperate for a consultation, and I think that you’d be able to help her.”

Y/N bit her lip, feeling her phone vibrate against her cheek with yet another message, starting to worry there was some kind of emergency back at home.

“Oh, I’ll talk to them tonight, then. When I come in on Monday, I’ll hopefully be bringing good news,” Y/N conceded, feeling bad that she hadn’t given that conversation with Namjoon and Jeongguk too much priority. “If there’s children involved, I want to be able to help right away.”

“Alright, Y/N. Enjoy the rest of your weekend, I’ll forward you the mother’s email that was sent to me.”

Hanging up, Y/N thought about how to round up Namjoon and Jeongguk and try to convince the latter to break away from his free time enough to travel around the state with her and Namjoon. Sighing, she opened her messages with her eyes squeezed shut, thankful for the long-winded goodbye Seokjin and Hannah were in the middle of.

Yoongi 👼🏻: We’re going to have to talk, soon

Yoongi 👼🏻: Sweetheart… I think some of them are starting to figure it out

Yoongi 👼🏻: Namjoon won’t let me out of his sight. I think he can smell you on me or something

Yoongi 👼🏻: Tonight, you and I have to talk, music room. Midnight

Yoongi 👼🏻: We’ll figure it out together, we can’t hide it from them forever

Yoongi 👼🏻: You can’t hide from them forever, either

Y/N felt the bile that was already boiling in her stomach from earlier rise to her throat, picturing Namjoon’s wrath, the idea of having to break the news of her and Yoongi’s relationship to her other six housemates, and dealing with the aftermath of that. So caught up in possibility, Y/N swore loudly when Seokjin yanked the car door open and hauled himself inside, pressing a hand over her chest.

“Whoa, what’s the matter? Are you okay?” Seokjin panicked, hands shooting out to cup Y/N’s face with urgent, concerned hands. In consequence, Y/N’s phone clattered to the floor mat, and thankfully it was locked when Seokjin freed one of her cheeks to scoop it up for her.

“Yeah, I’m fine. I was just startled by the noise, that’s all,” Y/N replied a bit breathily, leaning into Seokjin’s palm heavily, breathing in his eucalyptus body wash in order to soothe herself. “Sorry.”

“Please,” Seokjin scoffed, tucking hair behind her ear and rolling his eyes. “You know how I am with loud noises. If anyone gets it, it's me.”

With that, Seokjin pulled Y/N in for a hug across the center console of the cab, using a hand on the back of her head to direct her winter-chilled face into the crook of his neck. Heartbeat stuttering a few beats, she felt herself go limp in his strong arms, worries dissolving into nothing as he held her tightly.

“Thanks for arranging the meet for today. Hannah really likes you,” Seokjin mumbled into her hair quietly, Y/N able to feel the upturned corners of his mouth pressed into the tresses. “Just like I thought she would!”

“I like her too. She does remind me of Foxy, a little bit,” Y/N admitted, trying her best not to let her lips brush against Seokjin’s throat, though she had been harboring a desire recently to sink her teeth into the strong expanse of it. “April will be here before you know it, and we’ll get to visit her.”

“Mmph,” Seokjin returned noncommittally with his lips buried in her hair, tightening his hold on Y/N.

“What was that, honey?” Y/N giggled, pulling her face out of Seokjin’s neck, mouth still slightly watering with the idea of biting marks into his flesh. “Aren’t you excited to take a trip?”

Seokjin made a sad little purr when she maneuvered herself out of his arms, the bright color of his irises flashing once she leaned across the cab to buckle him into his seat securely. With a click, he was belted in, Y/N booping his nose that was still cool from the outside air.

“Yeah, but I think I’ll probably miss home while we’re gone,” Seokjin admitted quietly, surprising Y/N as she backed out of her space and threw the car in drive. “I never really liked traveling.”

Y/N processed that statement, thinking about how Seokjin had been dragged from coast to coast for years. It was likely that he enjoyed having some roots in place after essentially being a vagabond, and that was yet another similarity between him and Hoseok.

“We’ll make it fun, I swear. I’ll rent some kind of camper van that we can drive up, we can get greasy breakfast sandwiches, make a road trip playlist…” Y/N thought aloud, picturing Namjoon in the passenger seat with an old-fashioned map, Jimin passing out snacks to everyone with his bright smile, and the eight of them crammed into a camper.

“Why don’t we take Namjoon’s van?” Seokjin suggested, capturing Y/N’s right hand as soon as she moved it off of the gear shift, his palm warm despite being outside for quite a while.

“It’s not big enough to fit all of us, and besides, there are about a hundred books in there. I’m not sure how Joonie and Jeongguk even hang out in there together, there’s nowhere to sit,” Y/N felt Seokjin lace his fingers with hers, the jaguar hybrid humming in acknowledgement. “Regardless, we’ll have a good time.”

“As long as I’m with you, it’ll be okay,” Seokjin sighed, squeezing her fingers gently. Y/N stole a glance at him out of the corner of her eye, a tiny smile on his lips as he gazed out of his window, Y/N’s heart threatening to break through her ribcage.

“What, no take out for me?” Hoseok opened the door for her and Seokjin, a deep frown on his face once he realized Y/N wasn’t holding any bags.

“No, Yoongi is making chili tonight. Pub food doesn’t travel well, anyways,” Y/N shrugged off her coat while kicking off her shoes, using Hoseok’s shoulder to balance while he grumbled. Y/N knew that he was just pretending to be annoyed, judging by the merry sway of his tail. “How was your afternoon, Foxy?”

“God, you’re calling me that now, too?” Hoseok narrowed his eyes, Seokjin snickering while he hung his and Y/N’s coat in the closet.

“What? I think it’s cute,” Y/N replied, poking one of the little dimples above the corners of his mouth when his lips were flattened into a line. “Are Joonie and Jeongguk outside? I have something to discuss with them.”

“Yeah, they’re in the van. Probably talking about bigfoot or some shit,” Hoseok said, Seokjin’s snickers turning into full-blown squeaky laughter, Y/N dragging both of them into the kitchen where Yoongi was dutifully chopping celery.

At the sight of him, Y/N’s chest squeezed, sensing his stress simply by noting how his shoulders were tensed up. She wasn’t looking forward to their chat at midnight, but at least she’d have some alone time with him. Promptly, Seokjin reached for his set of knives on the counter, Yoongi pointing to an onion for the jaguar hybrid to chop. After Y/N gave Yoongi a quick cheek kiss to greet him, she shuffled outside in her slides, ignoring Seokjin’s complaints that she wasn’t wearing a coat.

In the driveway, she could see exhaust coming from the tailpipe of the van, Y/N skipping up to the side door and knocking three times. In two seconds flat, Jeongguk cracked open the door, hissing as he yanked Y/N into the toasty van with his hand wrapped around her wrist. There were old reruns of The X-files playing on Namjoon’s tiny little TV, and there were snack-sized bags of chips littered all around.

“Are you fucking crazy? It’s like 20 degrees outside,” Jeongguk scolded, Y/N smacking his hand off of her wrist with an eye roll.

“Says the one in a tee shirt,” Y/N shot back, glaring at the Metallica concert tee he was wearing with disapproval. “Nice to see you, too. Hi Joonie!”

Namjoon was seated in one of the only spots free of books and tapes, the booth by the kitchenette, appearing startled that she swung by to talk to them. He offered her a wave, setting the pen he was using down and straightening up from his slouchy position.

“So, you met up with Seokjin’s girlfriend?” Jeongguk returned to his own seat across from Namjoon after he took a disinterested sniff in Y/N’s direction. Irked, Y/N used her foot to push Jeongguk further into the booth, plopping down beside him.

“Ex-girlfriend,” Y/N corrected, Namjoon lifting an eyebrow at her and leaning back in the booth. “What are you two up to? Is this the headquarters for a secret club?”

“The wolf has a pretty decent collection of books about the occult and shit. Got nothing better to do,” Jeongguk shrugged, fiddling with the sword pendant around his neck. “Why are you here?”

“Because I have something to ask you, brat,” Y/N seethed, the elk hybrid’s attitude not a very good indication that he’d be willing to hang out with her more than necessary. “I have a proposition.”

Namjoon’s ear flickered, leaning forward on his forearms so he could listen closely. His gaze lingered on her throat, where the necklace he had given her was still clasped around securely.

“The answer’s no,” Jeongguk smirked lazily when Y/N stared daggers at him, a teasing glint in his dark eyes. “What do you want?”

“My boss, Judy, remember her? She actually offered me a new opportunity, I’ll end up making more money and doing things that don’t require me to sit on a stool all day bored out of my mind,” Y/N began, eyes on the paper Namjoon was writing on– he must have been taking notes from the book she had gotten for him on his birthday, judging by the occultish doodles amongst his notes.

“You’re asking for career advice?” Namjoon asked, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“Well, let me finish, Joon,” Y/N chuckled, teasingly nudging his shin under the table. “Basically, she wants me to take over the consultations and cleansings for customers who come in and have issues with the paranormal. She asked me if you two would be interested in helping me with that, and you’d get paid, too.”

Namjoon froze, before his expression dissolved into pure excitement, something Y/N hardly ever saw on his face unless there was some kind of pastry in front of him. Like she predicted, Namjoon seemed to be totally on board, the van filled with the sound of his tail thumping against the cloth booth they were crammed into.

“So… we’d go to work with you?” Namjoon inquired, gripping the table with white knuckles and stars in his eyes. “Three times a week?”

“Well, no, just when we’d have cases to work on. I suppose I could talk to Judy about you coming with me during my regular hours, though, you could help me shelve inventory if you want,” Y/N replied, noting that Jeongguk had yet to offer any sort of response. “What do you think?”

“Jeongguk, it’s like what you did before, with that investigation team,” Namjoon pointed out, Jeongguk drumming his fingers against the table contemplatively. “You were just complaining that you had nothing better to do.”

Jeongguk looked from the wolf hybrid to Y/N, both staring at him expectantly, Y/N unable to decipher exactly what he was thinking due to the blank look on his face.

“I need more information before I agree to anything,” Jeongguk cleared his throat, angling his body so he could face Y/N better, scratching one of his tapered ears with a grimace.

“Sure. Judy said we could pretty much run the whole ‘operation’ however we wanted. We’d probably take the car from house to house, do the consultations with the client, and then brainstorm together to make a tentative plan for cleansings. Anything we’d need for rituals we could get from the shop,” Y/N felt the van rock as Namjoon squirmed in his seat.

“Don’t you think we’d need to do an investigation before we’d be able to come up with how to get rid of the haunting?” Jeongguk asked in an almost condescending manner, Y/N sucking her teeth in annoyance.

“Thought that went without saying, but yeah. I figured that’s the part you’d be the most interested in, with your new camera, your experience, and all that,” Y/N kept her cool, concluding if Jeongguk didn’t want to help, she’d still have Namjoon. “Joon, you have a wealth of knowledge, too, and all these books to consult. I think the three of us make a good team, and we’d be helping people.”

Namjoon stood, beginning to pace around the tiny van with his hands on his hips.

“Let’s say after a consultation, we have a night where we investigate the property with the client elsewhere. After the investigation, we review findings, come up with a plan on how to best correct the situation, and then we execute it within the home,” Namjoon thought aloud, rolling up the sleeves of his sweater as he paced. “As for transport. Let’s use this van. It’ll be easier to transport equipment and tools, and be more comfortable for longer trips.”

“Whoa, wolf. You’re serious about this?” Jeongguk gaped, and Namjoon looked deathly serious in response, so the elk hybrid changed tactics by addressing Y/N. “I don’t know, kiddo. Aren’t you worried about things that might attach themselves to you again? We just got rid of that hag.”

Both Jeongguk’s concern for her and the nickname he had begun to use on her every once in a while had Y/N nearly swooning into his lap beside her, but she managed to keep it together somehow by biting down hard on the inside of her cheek.

“I’ve been on top of my protection magic lately, you know that,” Y/N nudged Jeongguk’s shoulder with her own, significantly softened after his display of concern. “Whatever happens, I know we can handle it. We’re like the supernatural dream team!”

With that, Jeongguk scoffed with a head shake, but the way his frame sagged Y/N knew that he was moments away from giving in.

“Fuck it, let’s do it,” Jeongguk put his head in his hands, Y/N excitedly grabbing one of his forearms and shaking it in triumph. “I’m not starting a fucking podcast with you two, though.”

“Of course not. The world needs less podcasters anyways,” Y/N snorted, getting up from the booth with a grin. “We already have a ‘case’, Judy’s sending me the woman’s email with the complaint. I’ll keep you two updated and I’ll find out more on Monday.”

“You’re leaving?” Namjoon halted her by the door, and Y/N could have sworn there was a whisper of disappointment in the downturned corners of his full mouth.

“Ah, yeah. I want to shower before I have my call with the twins,” Y/N became sheepish, shriveling up under the weight of the wolf hybrid’s gaze. “I’ll see you in a little bit, Joon, okay? Thank you two for being on board with this, too. I think we’ll learn a lot from one another, maybe even have some fun!”

“Unless The Nun comes for you,” Jeongguk drawled sarcastically, yanking one of the van windows open so he could light up a cigarette already poised between his lips.

Giving him the finger, Y/N smiled warmly at Namjoon as she exited the vehicle. Both optimistic and excited to be able to spend quality time with her two more bristly hybrids, she hurried inside before she could totally freeze to death.

Yoongi wasn’t in the kitchen anymore, nor was Seokjin or Hoseok, but the chili simmering away on the smelled heavenly and had Y/N’s mouth watering, even if she was still full from her lunch with Seokjin. She tried not to pout too much that nobody was looking for her on the way to her bedroom, and with that, Y/N wondered if she was becoming too codependent; and further, she wondered why she didn’t give a shit if she was.

Y/N found herself waiting around for midnight that night so she could have her secret meeting with Yoongi, and because it was only a Wednesday, her and the hybrids took it easy with the nightly cocktails– so she was waiting anxiously and fully sober. By 11 PM, she was practically vibrating, gnawing on her nails until they were jagged and unsightly, and she decided to just crawl up to the music room and wait for Yoongi.

Everyone else had gone to bed already, between those who had sports the next day, and Jimin so he could get up early for the animals. Y/N wasn’t worried about bumping into anyone, but she still felt like she was creeping around like an intruder. Once she was up the stairs, her mouth dropped open in surprise seeing light spill from the threshold of Seokjin’s bedroom door. Unfortunately for her, on her way to the music room, Seokjin must have caught her scent, his door creaking open and his head popping out into the hallway.

“What are you still doing up?” Seokjin whispered into the air, Y/N having no choice but to let Seokjin usher her into his bedroom, the soft pink walls lit up with gentle lamplight.

“Oh, I just felt like listening to some records before I go to bed. I haven’t tested out the new system yet,” Y/N fibbed, Seokjin easily buying the lie and tugging her further into his bedroom.

Getting a good look around, she breathed in the familiar scent of Seokjin’s body wash perfuming the room, a neat collection of books from the library book club lined up on his dresser, folded laundry sitting on the chair by the window, and his stuffed alpaca sitting on his bed. It looked like she caught Seokjin while he was reading in bed, The Silmarillion sitting on his pillow and the pink quilt pulled back.

“You can’t sleep?” Seokjin questioned further, manhandling Y/N by her shoulders and getting her to sit on his bed. He was purring, the sound deeper than normal, and Y/N noticed a sort of wicked gleam in his vibrant eyes.

“No, that’s not it,” Y/N breathed, Seokjin looking unfairly amazing in just a pair of plaid pajama pants and a simple white tee shirt. “Just not ready for bed y-yet.”

Y/N stuttered when Seokjin sat beside her, his tail automatically wrapping around her waist possessively and his expression growing more dangerous by the second– like he was going to eat her alive.

“I liked the dress you wore today,” Seokjin leaned back on his palms, dragging his eyes up and down her frame. “Pretty.”

“Um, thank you?” Y/N had no idea what was going on, stiff as a board sitting on the edge of Seokjin’s bed, while he toyed with her emotions. “Guess you like the color pink, huh?”

Giggling nervously, Y/N forgot all about meeting Yoongi in the music room, getting lost in Seokjin’s heady gaze, his tail curling lazily behind him. Desperate to escape his scrutiny, she scrambled to find something to talk about, fisting her hands in his quilt.

“Wow, you’re a-already on The Silmarillion? How did you like the original trilogy? We should watch the movies together soon–”

“Y/N,” Seokjin purred, using a fingertip to trace a line up the inside of her wrist, watching with interest as goosebumps followed his path. Before she could squeak in response, Seokjin pounced, knocking the wind out of her as she was pinned to his mattress in the blink of an eye.

“Oof–” Y/N wheezed, eyes wide as she processed what was happening, hands scrabbling on the quilt as she registered Seokjin’s knees framing her thighs, keeping her put as he stared down at her hungrily. “Jin!”

A low growl came from the back of his throat as Y/N whimpered out his nickname, an elbow coming down beside her shoulder so he could bring his face closer to hers, his minty breath washing over her face as she stared at him owlishly. Regaining some of her motor functions, her hands grasped onto his broad shoulders, preparing to push him away before she lost all sense and kissed him, but as if he sensed this, Seokjin swiftly grasped her wrists in one of his hands. Tutting, he held her wrists above her head easily, his eyes becoming lidded as Y/N’s heart began pumping frantically. Then, as he was using his free hand to graze his fingertips under her jawline, it dawned on Y/N.

Unable to break free from the ironclad grip on her wrists, Y/N could only watch Seokjin above her, his cheeks flushed and his mouth slightly parted, adrenaline coursing through her veins as he settled his weight on top of her. The way his hips were flush with hers had a strike of white-hot heat flashing over her skin, but Seokjin didn’t seem to notice as his thumb traced over her pulse point, a satisfied look on his face as he felt it racing under his touch.

Last time Seokjin scented her– the first and only time– he was overcome with a fever, desperate, and shaky. This time, he was coiled, predatory, and dangerous, Y/N’s breath coming out in pants as he assessed how quickly he reduced her into a mess. Suddenly, his face was in the crook of her neck, Y/N squealing when she felt Seokjin lick a graphically long stripe up the side of her neck, his lips bending into a smile at the sound.

“Smells so good,” Seokjin mumbled, nudging his nose along the dampened flesh, his tail thrashing behind him as he soaked in her scent, his chest rumbling with purrs as he kept her pinned to the mattress. “Pretty girl.”

Y/N’s half-closed eyes shot wide open, her stomach flipping over at the growled pet name, her captured hands aching to reach out and touch the jaguar hybrid. Mouthing at her throat, Seokjin’s tongue periodically swiped at her pulse point, Y/N’s eyes rolling into the back of her skull as she prayed she wasn’t filling the room with the scent of her arousal. It was difficult not to arch into him, and distantly she was grateful that he was keeping her pinned down.

“Stay still for me, pretty, okay?” Seokjin whispered into her ear, his voice thickened with honey, Y/N squeezing her eyes shut and going absolutely still obediently, egged on by the pet name.

With a gentle kiss to her throat, Seokjin bared his teeth, swiftly sinking them into his chosen spot with a hum. Y/N felt the edges of her vision go fuzzy, not even feeling the pain of his incisors in her neck, instead focusing on the way Seokjin’s grip on her wrists tightened, his other hand bracing his weight beside her face.

Floating to the ceiling, Seokjin pulled his teeth from the mark, loopiness taking over Y/N as the jaguar hybrid cauterized the wound, catching stray droplets of blood with his tongue. Finally, he let go of her wrists, Y/N immediately diving her fingertips into Seokjin’s hair, the jaguar hybrid purring loudly at the sensation. With him still very much on top of her, Y/N didn’t move an inch. If it weren’t for the fact that she still had to talk to Yoongi at any moment, she probably would have gone to sleep with a smile and the jaguar hybrid laying on top of her like a weighted blanket.

Nuzzling his face into her neck, he gave the bite one last goofily loud peck, making Y/N giggle deliriously. Wrapping his arms around her middle, Seokjin rolled sideways with Y/N pressed to his chest, and Y/N couldn’t stop the laughter from bubbling up in her chest due to the post-scent haze.

Pulling away a few inches, Seokjin’s eyes twinkled in amusement as he watched her dissolve into hysterics, cupping her face like he did earlier that day, and to Y/N’s astonishment, began planting loud kisses all over her face, heightening her delight. Seokjin was affectionate, but never to that degree, and once again she felt herself growing shy under all of the attention.

“Aw, look at you. Blushing,” Seokjin cooed after placing one last kiss on the tip of her nose, looking far too pleased with himself. “Sorry if I caught you off guard. I needed you to smell like me again.”

Blinking, Y/N watched Seokjin become bashful, scratching the back of his neck as he helped Y/N sit up, one of his arms still hooked around her waist securely.

“What do you mean, honey?” Y/N felt like she had cotton stuffed in her mouth, leaning into Seokjin as he smoothed her hair back into place.

“My scent on you. It was almost completely faded, so I would have had to do that soon anyways, but I wanted to get rid of what’s left of Hannah’s scent from earlier today that was still clinging to you,” Seokjin explained, Y/N’s mouth dropping open.

“Oh,” Y/N blurted, Seokjin’s ears fluttering at the sound. “Why?”

With this, Seokjin frowned, ducking his head so he could make eye contact with her, apparently confused that she would even ask such a thing.

“You already smell like six other hybrids. I don’t want to add a seventh to that bunch, besides my own,” Seokjin said seriously, Y/N’s skin on fire. With that statement, her jealousy towards Hannah earlier that day all but disappeared– the sensation replaced with butterflies soaring in her stomach.

“Oh,” Y/N repeated softly, Seokjin’s grin returning as he helped her to her feet.

“Speaking of scents. I smell Yoongi, I think he had the same idea as you,” Seokjin kept an arm around her as they headed to his door, Y/N’s knees like jelly as she remembered the conversation she was about to have. “Maybe he’ll play you a lullaby before bed!”

“That would be nice, Seokjinnie,” Y/N sighed, thankful for the calmness that came over her post-bite. “You should get some rest, too. Your eyes are almost completely shut!”

Facing him before she departed, Y/N felt her love for the jaguar hybrid almost completely drown and overwhelm her, him seemingly so at peace and soft around the edges at that moment. And in that moment, she allowed herself to pretend they were together, and all of the messiness was long behind them.

“Mmm. I forgot how much that can take out of me,” Seokjin blushed pink like the walls of his room, shifting from foot to foot. “I had a nice day with you today. Get some sleep after Yoongi plays that lullaby for you, alright?”

Unable to help herself, Y/N gently yanked on the front of Seokjin’s tee shirt, pressing her face into his chest and squeezing him around his middle. Deep, relaxed purrs vibrated against her cheek, Seokjin squeezing her back with equal amounts of force with his arms clasped around her hips.

“Okay, goodnight, honey, see you in the morning,” Y/N mumbled into his chest, reluctant to let him go. However, she was running a bit late to her meeting with Yoongi, and if she stayed in Seokjin’s room any longer, she’d never leave.

“Goodnight,” Seokjin whispered, releasing her and watching her shut his door as she left, her heart still galloping and vision a little fuzzy post-bite. The last thing she saw was the feline glow of his eyes in the darkened hallway.

Slipping into the music room, nothing indicated that Yoongi was in there besides the battery-operated candles littered around the room, illuminating his form by the window, looking out into the backyard. Y/N had managed to compose herself during the short tip-toed walk from Seokjin’s room to her original destination, securely locking the soundproof door with a small expulsion of air,

“Angel,” Y/N hummed, sitting heavily on the loveseat and waiting for him to join her, the leopard hybrid moving noiselessly from the window to the couch, Y/N barely able to make out his features in the low lighting.

“You’re late,” Yoongi scolded, though there wasn’t much force behind the words as he sat beside her. “And you’re covered in Eau de Seokjin.”

“Um, sorry?” Y/N offered, Yoongi shrugging indifferently as Y/N cuddled up to his side indulgently.

“No you’re not,” Yoongi teased, one of his arms draping over her shoulders as she curled into him, rolling her eyes. “Lucky for you, he’s dense.”

“So, he’s not one of the ones you’re worried about? Don’t think he’s caught on to… anything?”

“I’m not sure. If he has, he’s not letting me near enough to come to that conclusion,” Yoongi replied, letting Y/N snuggle into his shoulder. “It’s Namjoon you need to worry about. He’s watching me like a hawk. If he flies off the handle and gets in your face again, I’ll break his fucking legs.”

“You absolutely will not. I’ll make you foot the hospital bill with your earnings from Daisy’s lessons if you do,” Y/N poked Yoongi in the chest, the leopard hybrid growling as if in warning. “Joonie’s softened up anyways. I’m worried about Tae. You know how he follows me around, how he can close himself off.”

“Yeah, me too. He’s really attached to you, I don’t see him reacting well,” Yoongi sighed, pinching his nose bridge delicately. “On the bright side, I don’t think any of those idiots are aware you’re in love with them.”

Y/N flinched, that being the first time Yoongi didn’t beat around the bush when it came to her feelings about the others, gawking at Yoongi with alarm. His expression was neutral, like he had just given her a 10-day forecast.

“Jesus, Yoongi,” Y/N breathed, pulling away from him so she could rub her arms that were now covered in a chill. “Way to cut to the chase.”

“Well, it’s late. I don’t want to keep you up for much longer, so it’s better to just say things plainly,” Yoongi deadpanned, tugging her back into his arms by her shirtsleeve. “Come here, love.”

“What should I do, then?” Y/N redirected the conversation, Yoongi playing with the ends of her hair.

“Just… talk to them. If you don’t want to confess your feelings yet, fine. But they have to know about us before we get caught.”

Y/N grumbled, tracing her fingers along the silver chain around Yoongi’s neck contemplatively. She was preparing herself for a total shitshow; Namjoon could go either way– furious or indifferent– Taehyung could withdraw, her easy friendship with Hoseok may become strained and awkward. The whole situation had her sick to her stomach with worry, and there was no way she could come up with to break the news that wouldn’t cause a glaring rift.

“What do you think about Jeongguk, Jimin? How do you think they’ll… take it?”

“I don’t think Jeongguk will give a shit, to be honest,” Yoongi responded after a pause, shivering when Y/N’s fingertips grazed the sensitive skin of his throat. “Jimin is another one who has caught on, I think. Haven’t you noticed he’s sort of been avoiding the two of us?”

Y/N stilled, going over her memories of the past few weeks. Jimin had been outside more than usual, going on long rides around the property’s trails with each horse they had in their stables, clearing away brush in the area he wanted to place the garden beds in the spring, and repairing the old greenhouse in the backyard. Y/N could only remember him being indoors at night, usually with a book, and he definitely didn’t put up with mindless chit chat with Hoseok like he used to. Worrying her lower lip with her teeth, Y/N felt like talking to him in the morning would be a good idea.

“I think Seokjin will be fine, too. You could smack him across the face and he’d still dote on you,” Yoongi pointed out, Y/N grimacing at his amused expression.

“I’m glad you’re finding this all too amusing, angel,” Y/N frowned, crossing her arms over her chest while Yoongi’s rumbled with laughter behind her. “I’m gonna have a nervous breakdown.”

“Hey, don’t worry too much. It’ll all work out eventually, you know. They can’t resent you for being in love,” Yoongi turned off the theatrics, smoothing a hand down her back. “Besides. I’ve got you.”

“I know,” Y/N murmured, reaching up to cup one of his cheeks and kissing the other gently. “I’ve got you too.”

“Talk to them this week,” Yoongi pressed his forehead against hers, his hand coming up to wrap around the wrist that was still beside his face. “You have to, alright, love?”

“Yeah. Don’t wanna sneak around anymore,” Y/N’s expression turned wicked, hand moving from Yoongi’s cheek to the back of his neck, tugging on the long locks of his hair.

“Impatient little one,” Yoongi chided with a snicker, giving her a chaste kiss on her mouth, Y/N thinking that wasn’t nearly enough. “Go to bed, now.”

“Can you play me a lullaby first?” Y/N used her best doe-eyed expression, Yoongi melting instantly, grabbing her hand and letting her lean her head on his shoulder while he played her a gentle, lilting tune.

Even though she went to bed late, Y/N got up weepingly early, wanting to catch Jimin before he disappeared into the backyard the entire day. Bundling up in her warmest sweater and jeans, she covered up Seokjin’s mark on her throat with a scarf, following the scent of coffee into the kitchen. Yoongi wasn’t up yet, but the coffee maker was on an automatic timer, so Y/N helped herself to a to-go cup, feeling cozy and warm in the coat Hoseok and Seokjin got for her. No one appeared to be awake yet, and all Y/N could hear beside the whistling wind outside was movement coming from down the hall where Jimin’s bedroom was. Deciding to just wait for him, Y/N perched herself in the breakfast nook, admiring the crystalline frost covering the grass in the backyard.

It was the coldest winter Y/N had experienced in a while, the sky gray almost every single day, the pond in the backyard frozen solid and icicles clinging to the eaves of the roof. Sipping her coffee, not even bothering to stir cream and sugar into it at that point, Y/N heard the heavy thunking sounds of Jimin walking through the foyer in his steel-toed boots, the sound stopping when he was in the threshold of the kitchen. Y/N tore her gaze from the backyard, smiling at the coyote hybrid brightly, pure astonishment on his face when he saw her sitting there in her coat and boots.

“Good morning!” Y/N greeted Jimin cheerfully, his yellow eyes wide with shock, Y/N trying not to giggle as he attempted to disguise his expression.

“What are you doing awake so early, Y/N?” Jimin asked, his voice still rough with sleep as he composed himself, tentatively reaching the coffee carafe with his ears alert and cautious. “I thought you liked to sleep in on your days off.”

“I wanted to help you out with the animals this morning. You know, earn my keep,” Y/N joked, Jimin snorting softly. “I’ve missed you, too.”

Jimin spun on his heel, cocking head with color in his cheeks, Y/N unable to help the smirk growing across her face. Jimin was very easy to tease, no matter how much of a smooth talker he could be.

“You’ve been trying to figure out where to put the garden beds too, right? Maybe I can help!” Y/N continued, getting up from her seat to get closer to the coyote hybrid, who was pushing a hand through his blonde hair with a nod.

“Yeah, that’s a good idea. I know you wanted to talk to me about what you want to grow, too,” Jimin replied, appearing torn between wanting to hang out with her and being a little jittery about it.

“Okay, let’s go then!” Y/N hooked her elbow with Jimin’s, fingers grappling with the soft suede of his jacket as she pulled him outside, Jimin able to take about three sips of his coffee before she was dragging him away from the warmth of their home.

Following the paving stones towards the back of the property, Y/N clung as close as she could to Jimin’s warmth, both of their breaths making clouds in front of them in the frosty air. The sun was low in the sky, truthfully still rising, but it looked like another overcast gray January day.

“Looks great out here, Jimin! I can’t believe you were able to clear out all that brush in front of the pond. Now we’ll be able to see it when we have lunch on the picnic table in the spring,” Y/N squeezed Jimin’s arm, the coyote hybrid’s ears flattening bashfully.

“Well, Taehyung helped, of course,” Jimin admitted, his boots making the grass crunch beneath his steps. “He filled in that mud pit with the gravel, too.”

“It’s shaping up back here! I’m going to call a contractor and see what they can do with that little guest house. I think it would be nice to turn it into a place to watch movies in the summer, like a fort! What do you think?” Y/N nudged Jimin’s hip with her own, crossing over the little bridge over the brook, the stable in her sights.

“I like that idea,” Jimin grinned down at Y/N, one of his pointed incisors flashing at her. “Why call a contractor though? I think we have renovations down to a certain science.”

“Fair,” Y/N agreed, breaking free from Jimin once they reached the chicken coop, the hens coming out of their little house like they sensed Jimin’s presence, the rooster squawking loudly. “Eek, Bandit scares me. I think he wants to eat Hoseok.”

Y/N pointed at the black rooster, the thing squawking at her again out of spite, Y/N thought. Jimin laughed heartily, turning on the tap so he could fill the chicken’s water trough with a hose. After blowing hot air into her fists, Y/N reached for the bag of chicken feed, giving Bandit a wide berth as she scattered food around the pen, humming merrily.

“Y/N, here’s the basket for the eggs. I’m going to check in on the horses, alright?” Jimin reached over the fence of the pen with a wicker basket in his hand, encouraging her to take it. “Watch out for Bandit, he’ll go for your ankles when you least expect it.”

“Gee, thanks,” Y/N mumbled, watching Jimin stroll away with a smirk on his face, taking it upon herself to stare at the way Jimin’s jeans hugged his legs.

She felt around the coop for eggs, gently nestling them in the basket as she went, using a free hand to shove Bandit away when he came snooping around her pant leg. She thought about maybe making a frittata for breakfast with the sheer amount of eggs she was pulling from the coop, fist-bumping the air when she placed the final one in the basket. Urgently leaving the pen before Bandit could chase her into a corner, Y/N set the basket down, gazing around the backyard curiously.

The brand-new exercise pen was made up of wood that was still a pale, power-washed color, and Jimin had stacked materials to construct the garden beds nearby, where the old-fashioned green copper penny greenhouse was several yards away. Jimin had certainly kept himself busy in the past few weeks, stacks of bagged soil already beside the greenhouse and rakes strewn about. He had even replaced the milky, cracked glass on the greenhouse, the new windows shining in the early morning sunlight.

Clicking her tongue, she made her way into the stable in search of the coyote hybrid, the building a few degrees warmer than the outside air but still drafty. Jimin had once explained to her that horses didn’t need space heaters, which Y/N wanted to get for them, with barely-contained amusement on his face. Shivering, she spotted Jimin with Vista towards the back of the stable, placing a blanket over her back.

“Whatcha doing?” Y/N eyed the bridle he was holding, giving his horse a pat on her neck.

“I was going to take her out and practice her jumps. It’s been a while, and I don’t want her to be bored,” Jimin expertly placed a saddle on her back, eyes flashing to Y/N making a tiny braid in the horse’s mane. “Why don’t you tell me what kinds of things you want to grow in the garden, so I can order seeds?”

“Ooh, let me think…” Y/N continued braiding Vista’s mane, hoping that Jimin didn’t mind. “We’ll have to do things seasonally, some things grow at different times of year, which I’m sure you know.”

“Actually, I don’t have too much experience with gardening. I’m better with animals and general landscaping, I think,” Jimin chuckled, leaving Vista clipped to one of the straps on the wall that kept the horse in place, grabbing a pitchfork to shovel fresh hay into Willow’s stall. “We’ll do some research, just snowball some basic ideas for me.”

“Hmm… cabbage, definitely. It’s hardy, we can make kimchi and stews with it. Leeks, peas, those are early spring veggies we can grow, too. I know Yoongi really loves tangerines, and Jeongguk likes bananas, but we don’t exactly live in a tropical environment so we can’t do that. Later on, though, we can grow strawberries in the summer, maybe even some blueberries, tomatoes. Carrots, celery, and onion for soups?” Y/N rambled, gazing towards the lofty ceiling of the stable as she went. “Ooh, and I want to make a smaller garden bed for all kinds of herbs, so we can use that for cooking and my practice. I think it would be nice to plant some flowers in one of the beds, too, to attract pollinators and butterflies!”

“Sounds like you’ve given this quite a bit of thought,” Jimin said, surprise coloring his tone. “I’ll have to get started on the beds. Thankfully we can use that greenhouse to sprout the seedlings.”

“Will you let me help you make the garden beds, Jimin? I know you’re worried I might injure myself with a hammer or something, but I did renovate all of your bedrooms prior to even knowing you. And the kitchen. A simple garden bed will be nothing for me,” Y/N jut her lower lip out, wondering if pouting worked on Jimin like it did with Yoongi.

Jimin blinked, placing the pitchfork back in its spot, approaching her and Vista again. By then, she had braided half of Vista’s dark mane mindlessly, the horse placidly letting her do what she wanted.

“If it’ll make you happy, then sure,” Jimin conceded, pulling his jeans up by his belt. “I don’t underestimate you. I apologize for making you feel that way, Y/N.”

Taken aback, her pouting working a little too well, Y/N put her hands up in alarm.

“Oh, shit, Jimin. You don’t have to apologize, you’re well aware that I have clumsy tendencies. I’m not insulted or anything, I swear,” Y/N blurted, Jimin’s eyes going wide as soon as an expletive left her mouth. “Sorry for swearing. I regret to inform you that my mouth is just about as filthy as Jeongguk’s…”

After a beat, Jimin’s shoulders started shaking, his eyes turning into slits as he laughed at her, Y/N spellbound by his joy as always.

“I know, Y/N. It’s funny though, you’re always trying to watch your mouth around me. I grew up with ranchers, remember? Crude as they come,” Jimin’s voice was strained in between his laughter, unclipping Vista from the wall as he spoke.

“So you’ve been letting me act like Anne of fucking Green Gables for months for your own amusement?” Y/N exclaimed, Jimin’s laughter growing louder and more untamed. “You all love to fuck with me, huh?”

“What does Hoseok say?” Jimin gathered Vista’s reins in one of his fists, guiding her forward towards the stable’s exit. “You make it too easy.”

Muttering, she followed Jimin outside, realizing the only hybrid she adopted that didn’t tease her whenever he got the chance was Namjoon. Even Seokjin had begun to show his cheeky, prankster-type side, but the wolf hybrid was a bit too stiff to crack jokes at her expense.

“It’s all fun and games until I start making cowboy jokes,” Y/N threatened, Jimin lifting an eyebrow at her as if to dare her. “I didn’t even notice those hurdles, did you make them yourself?”

Y/N watched Jimin unlatch the gate to the exercise pen, eyes on the freshly painted hurdles scattered around the area, all with varying heights and widths. The coyote hybrid was certainly making use of the Home Depot gift certificate he got in his stocking for Christmas, as well as the company’s delivery service. With a swish of his sandy tail, Jimin led Vista in the pen, Y/N unsure if she should follow or hang out by the fence and simply watch.

“Yeah, I learned how to make those when I was a kid. Simple enough,” Jimin replied, the morning sun crawling higher in the sky, making his hair look even more honeyed than usual. “Here, take a seat.”

Jimin let go of Vista’s reins, the horse obediently staying put as he approached Y/N casually, and before she could ask where exactly she should sit, she was hauled into the coyote hybrid’s arms, feet dangling pathetically in the air. Yelping, she struggled in Jimin’s grip on her body, the hybrid promptly placing her sideways on Vista’s back, Y/N immediately beginning to quake.

“Jimin!” Y/N hissed, instinctively swinging one of her legs over the horse’s back so she was seated in the saddle properly, arms around Vista’s neck in a desperate attempt not to fall off.

“Relax, Y/N,” Jimin snorted, gathering the reins and offering them to her. “You’re fine.”

“The closest I’ve ever gotten to riding a horse is when my dad made me get on a donkey at the zoo when I was seven,” Y/N protested, taking the reins like they were a lifeline. “Is this payback for the cowboy joke threat?”

“Relax,” Jimin repeated, using a stirrup to expertly hoist himself up, Y/N growing even stiffer when the coyote hybrid settled himself behind her, arms coming around to place his hands over hers on the reins. “Straighten up, lean back, if you’re nervous. I won’t let you fall.”

Doing just that, Y/N pressed her back into Jimin’s solid chest, shakily squeezing her thighs on either side of the horse’s body, Jimin’s hands rough but gentle on top of hers.

“Good. Progress,” Jimin murmured into her ear, a note of smug satisfaction in his tone. “You mentioned that you wanted to learn how to ride. Better to catch you off guard before you talk yourself out of it.”

“Right,” Y/N replied weakly, Jimin giving her simple instructions on how to get the horse to move forward, turn in certain directions, and stop. “You know, this reminds me of that picture of you and your sister. What’s her name? You never told me.”

They were making slow circles around the exercise pen, Jimin’s presence behind her protective and soothing, his rugged voice in her ear.

“Her name is Seonmi, she’s three years younger than me. About your age,” Jimin replied softly, Y/N feeling his hand’s squeeze over hers. “She was nervous about riding at first, like you. But now she does the bulk of the horse training.”

“Seonmi is a pretty name. I bet you miss her lots,” Y/N said, Jimin sighing behind her.

“Of course I do,” Jimin started, the two making their fifth lap around the pen. “But like I said before, I don’t have any regrets.”

“We could visit your family soon, if you’d like. I had Ben do some digging, and there’s nothing that says you can’t visit with them, as long as I’m with you and we bring your adoption certificate,” Y/N proposed, thankful for Jimin’s warmth as a biting breeze rolled by. “What do you think? When’s the weather nice in Montana?”

Jimin fell silent, nothing but the sound of Vista’s hooves clomping away on the beaten-down earth emphasizing the lack of Jimin’s response. Y/N gave him time to process, as she pretty much dropped a bombshell on him, his left hand retreating from the back of hers and his forearm curling around her middle snugly.

“July, it’s the warmest and when the park looks the most beautiful,” Jimin’s voice was throaty, his hold on her tender. “I– didn’t know that you were looking into that for me. You’re serious, we can visit?”

Y/N craned her neck to the side so she could get a look at Jimin’s face, and it was much closer than she thought it was, the coyote hybrid seeking eye contact with her through his light eyelashes. Able to smell his lavender shampoo from such a short distance, Y/N found herself staring right at Jimin’s mouth, his lips tempting and nearer than ever.

“Of course I’m serious, it’s your family! We’ll go whenever you want, however frequently you want, too,” Y/N insisted, her thighs beginning to ache from straddling Vista for so long. “Just say the word, I’ll get us flights.”

Jimin cleared his throat, staring straight ahead, appearing to try and push down overwhelming emotion.

“Want to try a jump?”

“Huh? Jimin, I’ve barely learned how to steer her, you want me to try a jump?” Y/N spluttered, surprised that he changed the subject so abruptly.

“I’m behind you, nothing will go wrong. I’ll tell you exactly what to do,” Jimin’s easy confidence made a comeback, Y/N picturing a smirk on his face as he squeezed her around the middle.

With that, Jimin told her how to lift herself out of the saddle, lean forward, and stay in position during the jump, Y/N feeling less nervous with Jimin behind her and his clear expertise. Besides, there was something freeing about the idea of sailing through the air, so Y/N began to get excited as they approached one of the hurdles, her heart racing.

“You can do it,” Jimin encouraged, giving her hip an encouraging pat, Vista speeding up and Y/N lifting herself out of the saddle with her back still pressed to Jimin’s chest, whooping loudly as Vista successfully flew over the hurdle. “That’s it! You’re a natural.”

“Yeah, if you weren’t behind me, though, I would have fallen on my ass,” Y/N was riding the high of his praise, enjoying every second of her time with Jimin even if she was frozen solid.

After a few more jumps, Y/N’s thighs were truly starting to go numb, humbling her by how out of shape she was. She knew she should probably head back into the house soon to have some breakfast, her stomach growling loudly once they landed a final jump.

“Ah, you should go in now. Don’t want you to get frostbite, and by the sounds of it, you’re famished,” Jimin brought Vista to a halt, swiftly and gracefully sliding off of the horse, his hand outstretched for Y/N’s.

“Are you going to come with me?” Y/N asked, trying to keep the whine out of her voice at the thought of parting with him, his citrine eyes twinkling with amusement as she placed her hand in his.

Using his free hand, Jimin hooked his forearm around Y/N’s lower back, lifting her gently off of the saddle and setting her down on her feet, keeping his arm in place as she shook the feeling back into her legs. His ears were perked up as she groaned softly, the blood rushing to her stiff muscles and giving her pins and needles.

“I’m going to take the other horses out for exercise, too. It won’t take too long, I’ll come in for lunch later. Have a few more windows to replace on the greenhouse,” Jimin scratched the back of his neck, again looking a bit conflicted. Yoongi was right, Jimin was definitely trying to get some distance, using tasks outside as excuses.

“Oh, alright,” Y/N watched Jimin pat Vista’s neck distractedly, his nose twitching. “I’ll see you then. Thanks for the riding lesson, it was a lot of fun!”

“Anytime, Y/N. In the spring, we can take longer rides on the trail together,” Jimin’s nose was still twitching, Y/N wondering if he could smell her suspicion that he knew something about her and Yoongi, but his sweet smile gave nothing away. “Head in now, don’t forget the eggs.”

“Okay, sweetheart,” Y/N watched the coyote hybrid usher Vista back into the stable, scooping up the basket of eggs by the coop before she started back to the house.

Y/N thought that she’d be able to tell right away if Jimin knew anything, as he typically was easier to read than a book with his earnest expressions. The only indication that something was awry was his insistence on hanging outside for hours on end. Thankfully, she thought, he was just as laid-back and friendly as he always was, and if he did know something, it wasn’t preventing him from treating Y/N normally.

As she approached the house, she saw that Taehyung and Yoongi were in the kitchen, the former changing out the lens on his camera for a different one. Yoongi, however, was in the middle of stirring coffee in two separate mugs– one of them, she assumed, for her.

Monday night, Y/N came home with a packet of information about the haunting her, Jeongguk, and Namjoon were going to investigate, sighing blissfully as the scent of homemade pasta sauce filled the house. Kicking off her shoes and hanging up her bag, she was too beat from helping Judy with the busy sale they had that day to discuss more mystical subject matter with the two hybrids, so she kept the packet in her bag. All she wanted was to sink into the couch with a bowl of pasta, numbing her brain with whatever show the hybrids were binging that day.

“Hi, angel,” Y/N padded into the kitchen, finding him by himself, stirring the pasta sauce with a wooden spoon. “How was your day? The lesson with Daisy?”

“Good. She learned Twinkle Twinkle faster than you,” Yoongi winked at her, Y/N tugging on a lock of his hair in retribution. “You? You look exhausted.”

“Yeah, we had a pop-up sale today. 60% off on crystals, 30% on jewelry. Place was jammed with ladies that look like my mom,” Y/N complained, mouth watering at the scent of tomato and basil. Or perhaps it was the smell of Yoongi’s spicy vanilla cologne. “Where is everyone?”

“Taehyung’s in his darkroom. Ghostbusters are outside, Foxy and Jimin are sawing wood for whatever project the coyote cooked up this time,” Yoongi hummed as Y/N wrapped an arm around his waist as he cooked, leaning her chin on his shoulder tiredly. “Seokjin’s in his room.”

“It’s getting dark, I’m worried that someone is going to lose a finger sawing,” Y/N peered over her shoulder to look outside, but she couldn’t really make anything out with the waning sunlight.

“Don’t sweat it. They can see better than you in the dark, silly girl,” Yoongi set down the wooden spoon, turning on his heel and grabbing Y/N by her hips, threading his fingers through the belt loops of her jeans. “Missed you.”

“Oh, did you?” Y/N pushed hair out of his face, tucking a strand of it behind his ear, playfully flicking one of the hoops threaded through it. “Careful, baby…”

“It’s fine, no one’s here,” Yoongi pulled her closer, Y/N bracing herself by placing her hands on his chest, his voice gravelly and quiet.

Blushing, her eyes fluttered shut, secretly thrilled that he was being so bold, and maybe by the possibility of being caught, even if it caused a total shitshow. Deciding to throw caution to the wind, she sighed softly at the feeling of Yoongi’s lips on hers, sweet and soft. One of his hands cradled the side of her face as he kissed her, Y/N’s arms looping around his neck as she attempted to deepen the kiss by swiping her tongue over his lower lip.

Things came to a shattering halt when the slider to the backyard was yanked open, Y/N springing apart from Yoongi with utter horror. Apparently, throwing caution to the wind had thoroughly fucked her.

“Oh shit, wolf, you called it. How much do I owe you?” Jeongguk strolled into the kitchen cockily, arms crossed over his chest as he looked from Y/N to Yoongi. “Twenty bucks?”

Namjoon was behind the elk hybrid, his expression made of stone as he watched Y/N grapple for the countertop so she wouldn’t pass out. Neither of them seemed pissed, but Y/N had absolutely no idea what to say.

To make matters worse, Jimin was leaning against the coffee bar after slipping inside behind Namjoon, and Hoseok was standing in the doorway with huge, shocked eyes and letting frigid air into the house.

“I– I,” Y/N panicked, noticing the slight disappointment all over Jimin’s face, and the way Hoseok was standing so stiffly, it was like he was being electrocuted. “Um, I, we–”

“Were kissing as friends?” Jeongguk rolled his eyes, wrestling a beer from the fridge. “Please.”

“Oh, fuck off,” Yoongi hissed, Y/N stiffening as he put an arm around her waist, squeezing tightly.

“Y/N… you… do you like him?” Hoseok snapped out of whatever was keeping him stationary in the doorframe, hastily shutting the slider.

There was silence, Jimin looking at the floor, Namjoon simply watching with a neutral expression, and Jeongguk sipping his beer with an amused smirk. Feeling bile crawl up her throat, there was no escaping her current situation, the only thing holding her upright being Yoongi’s strong arm around her. Through her embarrassment, though, she was comforted by the leopard hybrid’s presence, and it was enough to spark some bravery.

“I love him,” Y/N admitted, her voice wobbly but sure.

“Jesus,” Jeongguk shook his head, picking his nails and glancing at Namjoon across the room. “I guess I owe you forty bucks.”

“I’m sorry, you two made bets?” Hoseok composed himself, looking absolutely incredulous. “What the fuck? How did you even know this was going on?”

“You’re not very perceptive,” was all Namjoon said, still not giving Y/N any idea how he was feeling. “I noticed weeks ago.”

Quaking, Y/N felt her lower lip tremble, not knowing if she was going to cry or not.

“So, what. Are you two just gonna be together from now on?” Jeongguk inquired, Y/N astonished that Yoongi was completely right– Jeongguk didn’t give a shit about the two of them being romantically involved.

“That a problem?” Yoongi spoke up, a growl low in his throat.

“Not for me,” Jeongguk drained the rest of his beer, getting up from the barstool he was sitting on and walking by Namjoon, tossing two twenty dollar bills at the wolf hybrid’s chest. “Let me know when the food’s ready, I’m gonna shower.”

With that, the elk hybrid left the room, leaving Y/N reeling.

“Um, the rest of you?” Y/N chewed on her lip, glancing at the other three hybrids scattered around the kitchen. Jimin had a difficult time looking at her, and Hoseok was being weird, rolling an apple from the fruit basket on the countertop back and forth.

“Do what you want, Y/N. It’s your life,” Namjoon answered smoothly, shoving his hands in his pockets. “Can we talk about the case later, though?”

Completely caught off guard that Namjoon, too, didn’t seem to care, nor did he fly off the handle, Y/N blinked at him, shakily nodding her head. Once that was confirmed, Namjoon took a seat in the breakfast nook, pulling out a book from his hoodie pocket and taking himself out of the conversation.

Hoseok shrugged, returning the apple to the basket, heading towards the foyer with his sunny grin back on his face– always managing to bounce back.

“I second what the wolf said. None of my business, and if you’re happy then that’s all that matters. Keep the making out in front of me to a minimum, though, I don’t wanna see you like that, Yoongi,” Hoseok jabbed, whistling his signature tone, leaving the room. Seconds later, Y/N heard the TV turn on in the parlor.

Jimin, out of the four who walked in on them, was definitely the most perturbed. Gently, she eased Yoongi’s arm off of her, approaching Jimin slowly, and finally he made eye contact with her.

“Jimin, are you upset?” Y/N asked tentatively, and he shook his head after a short pause.

“No, Y/N, I’m not upset,” Jimin placed a hand on her forearm, though his lips were still downturned at the corners. “I just wish you had told me sooner. You didn’t have to sneak around.”

Flinching, she hardly recognized the hurt in his voice. Y/N realized he must have taken the “sneaking around” as not trusting him enough to divulge her feelings, and with a pat to her forearm, Jimin made a move to leave the kitchen, too, but not before adding one last statement.

“You deserve to be happy, Y/N,” Jimin offered her a half-smile, and with a swish of his tail, he was gone.

“That went remarkably well,” Yoongi broke the silence, Namjoon snorting from his spot at the breakfast nook, rolling his eyes. “Thought you’d be pissed, wolf.”

“I learned my lesson the first time beating the shit out of Taehyung. Solves nothing, and I’m not about to tell Y/N how to live her life.”

Blushing, Y/N was impressed by how much progress Namjoon had made in regards to taming his temper, sheepishly trudging back over to Yoongi. Yoongi, for the first time in weeks, looked relieved, giving Y/N a kiss on her forehead.

“But… Seokjin, and Tae. Still have to tell them,” Y/N was embarrassed that Yoongi kissed her in front of Namjoon, but the wolf hybrid was absorbed in reading The Secret History and didn’t appear to notice.

“No you don’t, they definitely heard,” Yoongi grimaced, Y/N flinching again. “Everyone knows now.”

Over the course of the week, everything… pretty much went back to normal, for the most part. Y/N refused to engage in PDA with Yoongi in front of the others, being far too shy for that, but Hoseok was back to his normal self, Jimin had forgiven her for the deception, and Namjoon and Jeongguk acted like nothing had changed at all.

As for Seokjin, things were a bit awkward, at first, and Y/N noticed that he wasn’t as clingy anymore. Yoongi theorized it was because Seokjin didn’t want to come between him and Y/N, but Y/N didn’t wholly agree. When he came down for dinner on Monday night, he didn’t say anything about her and Yoongi, and he said nothing when Yoongi took the jaguar hybrid’s normal spot beside her.

Taehyung was an entirely different story. He acted indifferent, but he stared at Yoongi with so much contempt, Y/N thought the somewhat new friendship between them pretty much went up in flames. While Seokjin wasn’t as clingy anymore, Taehyung stopped clinging altogether, going from his photography club to mealtimes to his bedroom. He had been avoiding Y/N all week, much to her dismay.

Thursday, after work, she corralled Namjoon and Jeongguk into the wolf hybrid’s van to discuss the paranormal case, packet in hand. Trying to push down how weirded out she was that Seokjin and Taehyung were being so distant, she focused on the two hybrids that treated her the same as they did before walking in on her and Yoongi.

“So, I told Judy that next week we can travel to the family’s house for our first consultation. I’ll make sure it isn’t on a Monday, so it doesn’t conflict with the book club meeting, Joonie.”

She handed Namjoon the packet of information, his grip eager, while Jeongguk lazily lounged in the booth beside her, playing a phone game.

“The Sanders family. Single mother Erika, her 13-year-old daughter Julie, and 10-year-old son Thomas,” Namjoon read off the top page of the information Judy gave her, waving cigarette smoke out of his face with annoyance. “Do you have to smoke in here?”

“She’s blocking me in this booth, and I don’t want to move,” Jeongguk replied, tapping the ash off of the cigarette into the glass ashtray Y/N had bought for him at a thrift store. “Keep going, I don’t wanna be here all night.”

“The activity started in December. Knocks on the walls, doors opening and closing on their own. The daughter reported seeing a shadow in the shape of a man in her room one night. Odd smells tend to linger in the air, seemingly coming out of nowhere…”

“Demon,” Jeongguk commented helpfully, turning off the phone game he was playing. “Sounds like a script from a movie.”

“I haven’t even read it all, yet. You think everything is a goddamn demon,” Namjoon snarled, tossing the packet at Jeongguk’s face, his ear twitching in agitation. “It seems that most of the activity is surrounding the daughter.”

“Further proves my theory. Demons tend to prey on adolescents,” Jeongguk flipped through the packet, using a highlighter on various sentences printed out on the paper. “Maybe she was messing around with a Ouija board, or hanging out with her friends in a cemetery or something.”

“We won’t know until we interview her,” Y/N pointed out. “I agree with Jeongguk. It Sounds like it might be a demonic haunting. We’ll have to do a cleansing of the entire property, do protection magic on each family member, and put up wards for them.”

“Good, a tentative plan,” Namjoon relented, using a legal pad to jot things down. “I’m gonna make a list of materials we might need.”

After an hour spent with the two hybrids coming up with a plan of attack, Y/N headed back into the house, hoping to catch Taehyung when he arrived back from the photography club. Her mother took him, Hoseok, and Yoongi to the rec center for their activities, and would be dropping them off any moment.

Hanging up her coat, she took a seat on the staircase, spotting headlights pulling up to the front of the property. Squirming in her seat, she hoped that Taehyung would allow her to talk to him, and as the front door swung open, Hoseok bolted inside, smiling brightly at Y/N and ruffling her hair, cheekily grabbing her hand to haul her to her feet. Though covered in sweat, he still looked handsome, the ends of his hair damp on his forehead.

“How was it today?” Y/N let go of Hoseok’s clammy hand, the fox hybrid whistling.

“Hard. Ran like four miles. I gotta shower, Yoongi said I reek,” Hoseok complained, though Y/N could tell he had a good time.

Next though the door was Taehyung, his eyes going wide once he realized Y/N was blocking the way of both of his hiding spots. Smirking, Hoseok ditched her, skipping down the steps to the basement while whistling a tune.

“Hey, Tae,” Y/N tried her best to act natural, Taehyung’s fist tightening on the bag containing his camera. “I’ve been missing you, lately. Working hard on photos for the next expo?”

Taehyung didn’t reply, shifting from foot to foot, relief washing over his face as Yoongi appeared in the foyer, dressed in his athletic wear and similarly as sweaty as Hoseok was. However, once Taehyung realized it was Yoongi, his face became screwed up with an unreadable expression.

“Hi, baby,” Yoongi went right up to Y/N, Taehyung going stiff as he watched Yoongi plant a chaste kiss on her mouth with a devilish smirk, pulling her in for a very sweaty hug.

“Ah! Angel, you’re all sweaty,” Y/N exclaimed, her fingertips slipping against the damp flesh of his biceps. Once Yoongi pulled Y/N into the embrace, there was enough space for Taehyung to squeak by her, and he did, bolting up the stairs like he was on fire.

“You did that on purpose,” Y/N accused, eyeing Taehyung’s form disappearing into his bedroom.

“What, can’t kiss my girl?” Yoongi blinked innocently, though the corner of his mouth pulled upwards gave away his mischievous intentions.

“Go bathe, I’m making dinner tonight,” Y/N muttered, poking his shoulder and gesturing to the stairs.

“Okay, baby,” Yoongi shot her a wink, Y/N’s mouth drying up at the sight of his arms flexing as he gripped the stair’s bannister. “Try not to burn yourself in my absence.”

Giving him the finger while his back was turned, she watched him slouch up the stairs, butterflies in her stomach.

The next day, Friday, Y/N had off, and she nervously checked her appearance in the mirror before she worked up the courage to meet Yoongi in the music room for her lesson. She was unsure as to why she was feeling jittery, as she swiped some berry-flavored lip balm on, she had had dozens of lessons with him, but that day, circumstances were different. Now that everyone knew that they were together, they didn’t have to hide. They could…

Shaking her head, she tossed whatever dirty thought that was beginning to form aside, jerkily adjusting the elastic band of her loose fabric pants. Her phone buzzed in her pocket, making her take her attention off of her reflection.

Yoongi 👼🏻: coming?

Unable to put it off anymore, Y/N left her room, scampering upstairs. With mostly everyone else either outside with the animals or hanging out in Namjoon’s van, Taehyung editing photos in the downstairs office, she didn’t bump into anyone on the way to the music room. Like always, she promptly shut and locked the door behind her, gritting her teeth at the sound of Yoongi snickering from across the room.

“You’re always laughing at me,�� Y/N griped, turning to get a good look at her leopard hybrid. He looked amazing, even though he was in simple gray sweatpants and his wine-colored henley. “I just don’t want a repeat of Monday night.”

“Hmm… I get it,” Yoongi put his hands up, using a couple of crooked fingers to beckon her to him. “Though, all things considered, everyone seems to be taking the news well.”

“Yeah, except for Tae,” Y/N said. “Thanks, by the way, for scaring him off yesterday. I really need to talk to him.”

“He’ll come around. I think he wants some space,” Yoongi responded, plopping down on the piano bench. “What do you want to learn today?”

“You’re letting me pick?” Y/N gasped dramatically, getting comfortable beside him. “Wow, you’re not trying to butter me up or something, right?”

“Just pick a song and stop being dramatic, sweetheart,” Yoongi groaned, lifting the fallboard off of the keys.

“Um… okay, how’s this?” Y/N began seriously, Yoongi reading her features with curiosity. “Bella’s Lullaby.”

“Oh, come on,” Yoongi lightly shoved her by her shoulder, Y/N giggling like a maniac. “I said be serious!”

“If you don’t want to teach me, I could just Google the score,” Y/N sassed, a frown growing on his face.

“Don’t be a brat,” Yoongi snapped, grabbing Y/N’s phone from her and tossing it on the chair across the room. “If that’s what you want to learn, I’ll teach you.”

Y/N was busy trying to get her stomach to stop from flipping over when he called her a brat, praying he didn’t notice her thighs involuntarily pressing together. Grumbling, Yoongi started to scribble notes on blank sheet music, his tail mindlessly curling around her hips. Y/N took her time studying him while he worked, his hair falling into his face and his lower lip tucked between his teeth.

Continuing her visual perusal of her leopard hybrid, her eyes dropped lower, skimming the elegant column of his neck, the shiny chain clasped around it, lowering her gaze even further to gawk at the way his shirt hugged his biceps. Licking her lips, she focused back on the sheet music, watching the way he gripped the pen, his other hand, she realized, gripping her knee gently. Yoongi’s hands were beautiful; pale, veiny, and strong. Without thinking, she began to trace the veins with her fingertips, Yoongi purring in response.

“You have pretty hands,” Y/N complimented, fiddling with his index finger as Yoongi shook his head with a smile.

“Thank you, baby,” Yoongi squeezed her knee, Y/N humiliated that such a simple action sent an electric shock of arousal through her. This time, Y/N was positive Yoongi could tell she was turned on, subtly sniffing the air and eyes darkening a shade. “That’s all?”

“What do you mean?” Y/N shivered at the sound of Yoongi’s deep voice, flames licking her cheek as she felt Yoongi’s hand slide upwards a few inches on her thigh.

“Nevermind, then,” Yoongi’s tone turned teasing, withdrawing his hand from her thigh, rolling his wrists to warm them up. “I have the first few bars. I’ll have to look up the rest later.”

“Stop teasing me,” Y/N ignored the sheet music he placed on the piano, squirming on the bench. “Yoongi.”

Going still, Yoongi cocked his head at her, ears flattening to his skull as she swung one leg over to straddle the bench, fully facing him now. His sight dropped down, the sound of his purring cutting off as Y/N hoped he got the hint. She was tired of waiting, she wanted him now.

“Baby,” Yoongi cooed softly, almost in warning, setting his pen down and leveling a charged stare directly in her eyes. “What do you want?”

“Want you,” Y/N answered immediately, without hesitation. “Don’t wanna wait anymore.”

“Yeah?” Yoongi’s gaze turned sharp, feline. “But you were being so patient.”

The leopard hybrid’s touch returned, both of his hands settling on her thighs heavily, Y/N’s breathing beginning to come out in short pants. It was pathetic, truthfully, how quickly she was dissolving into pure want, but she didn’t care, not when he was looking at her like that.

“My patience has run out,” Y/N hardly knew what they were talking about anymore, tugging Yoongi closer by the collar of his shirt. “I want you.”

Growling, Yoongi’s mouth was on her’s in a heartbeat, his hands gripping her thighs tightly as she wound her fingers into his hair, using the locks as an anchor to prevent him from pulling away. Not wasting any time, Yoongi tilted his head, his lips parting, Y/N mirroring the action to deepen the kiss urgently. Whimpering when she felt his tongue slide against hers, she drank in his taste; sweet from the tangerines he had with his lunch. Tongue sweeping over her gums, exploring, Y/N pressed her chest into his, desperate to be as close as possible. Before long, Yoongi pulled away, Y/N gasping for breath as one of his hands traveled to her lower back, making her spine arch in his grasp.

“You drive me fucking crazy,” Yoongi grunted, hand on her thigh rubbing up and down the length of it. “Want you, too.”

Mewling into his mouth when he dove back in, her flesh tingled where his fingertips were crawling up the back of her shirt, seeking. She was swelteringly hot and freezing cold at the same time, trying to keep up with the way Yoongi was kissing her so thoroughly. By now, she could feel her underwear starting to stick to her, Yoongi no doubt being able to tell, judging by the way he was groaning against her lips.

Accidentally, her grip on his hair slipped when he moved to attack her throat with equally passionate kisses and nips, grabbing onto one of his ears. Yoongi hissed against her skin, biting down particularly hard on her collarbone but not breaking the skin. Crying out, she tugged on his ear again in response, Yoongi moaning into the crook of her neck, his heart pounding so fast Y/N could feel it against her chest. So hybrid ears were sensitive, she thought distantly, using her thumb and forefinger to rub a few circles against the silky fur. Meanwhile, Yoongi was busy sucking a bruise into the base of her throat, Y/N’s thighs clenching around the bench, and she wondered if she had already soaked through her panties and her pants.

Abruptly, Yoongi pulled away, a feral look in his eyes as Y/N’s grip was lost on his ears, her hands reaching to tangle into the fabric of his shirt before her wrists were gathered in one fist, Yoongi lifting them in the air. Confused, she whimpered in protest, wanting to touch him, but Yoongi caught her by surprise by reaching for the hem of her sweater, peeling it upwards quickly and tossing the garment across the room as soon as it was off of her.

“Yoongi!” Y/N squealed, the leopard hybrid ignoring her as he let go of her wrists, mercifully, her eyes and head rolling backwards at the sensation of Yoongi’s mouth back on her, this time, his attention on the other side of her neck and his hands settling on the small of her naked waist. “Oh.”

Sighing, her eyes slipped shut, unable to prevent the whines of his name coming out of her mouth steadily, weakly gripping his shoulders to keep her tethered to earth. Dragging his tongue along the dip of her collarbone, beside the choker she was wearing, he purred, nipping her once before straightening up. Getting a good handful of her hair, Yoongi angled Y/N’s face back to him, sucking her lower lip into his mouth.

“So beautiful,” Yoongi murmured in between kisses, a few of his fingers tracking the band of her bra, Y/N gasping when she felt them slide under the fabric. “Need you…”

“Please, Yoongi,” Y/N could hardly recognize her own voice, sounding so wrecked already.

“What is it?” Yoongi asked darkly, plucking up one of her bra straps and letting it smack against her skin when he released it.

“Touch me,” Y/N begged, nearly ready to pin him to the ground out of frustration.

Grunting sharply, Yoongi finally snapped, both hands joining each other behind her back, pulling the clasp of her bra free and chucking it to the side without a thought. Normally, in that position, Y/N often grew shy, but there was no room for that when it was Yoongi looking at her like that. Eyes sweeping over her torso, Yoongi’s fingertips traced the sides of her waist with reverence, Y/N’s chest heaving in anticipation.

Experimentally, his touch migrated across her ribcage, right under the curve of her breasts. Pausing, Yoongi glanced up at Y/N, her lip sucked into her mouth and eyebrows pulled together, he watched, transfixed, delight taking over her expression when his thumbs brushed over her nipples.

“Fuck,” she whined, arching even more into his touch, her fingernails cutting into the skin of Yoongi’s shoulders even through the fabric of her shirt. Encouraged by her reaction, he pinched one of the buds, growling when she began to tremble and moan his name desperately.

“Sensitive, baby?” Yoongi hummed, the scent of her arousal starting to make him delirious with lust. Before Y/N could reply, however, Yoongi surged forward, pressing kisses across her chest, and when his lips wrapped around one of her nipples, Yoongi swore she was nearly weeping beneath him.

“Yoongi, oh–” She managed to grind out, Yoongi flicking the nipple that wasn’t tucked between his lips, loving how responsive she was to his touch. “Oh my god.”

Before he could have too much fun, however, Y/N was yanking him up by his shirt, her eyes wild and lidded.

“You too,” she panted, tugging on the material of his henley, Yoongi busy admiring the marks he had left all over her throat and chest. Distractedly, he reached behind him, yanking his shirt off and letting it drop to the floor.

Like he had with her, Y/N soaked in every inch of his chest, automatically tracking her hands all over his skin, the muscles of his stomach clenching at the chill of her fingers. Mouth watering at the sight of him, in just sweatpants and his silver chain, Y/N hooked a finger around the necklace and pulled Yoongi in for another searing kiss.

Y/N moaned at the sensation of their bare chests pressed together, Yoongi sucking on her tongue, and she was now positive she had soaked through her pants. Moaning again, this time in protest, considering Yoongi was getting off the bench and pulling away from her. Mouth dropped open to ask where he was going, she squeaked when he dropped to his knees in front of her, forcefully moving her leg so she was sitting on the bench properly, the leopard hybrid sitting between her parted knees. Attempting to close them, Yoongi shot her a warning look before pushing them apart again.

“You’re so perfect,” Yoongi sighed, hands once again on her thighs as he trailed kisses down her sternum, stopping for a moment to lave over one of her nipples. He was painfully hard at that point, her endless string of mewls and moans making his head spin. “Being so good for me.”

He continued his path down her body, stamping open-mouthed kisses over the soft swell of her stomach, her hip bones, Y/N’s hips involuntarily twitching as his hair started to tickle the skin around her most sensitive areas. One hand keeping her still by gripping her hip, Yoongi teasingly dipped his fingertips into the waistband of her paints, Y/N imploring him to do something with dollike eyes.

Daring to look between her legs, Yoongi purred in surprise, realizing she had soaked straight through her pale blue cotton pants, the material a darker blue, clinging to her center.

“Angel,” Y/N whined, a note of embarrassment coloring her sweet voice, her hips bucking upwards as his fingers slid further past the waistband.

“Want me to touch you?” Yoongi didn’t know who he was becoming, but his voice sounded dark and wicked. He could soak in that moment forever, and he’d be a happy man.

Nodding furiously, Y/N looked torn between bashful and eager, a pretty layer of sweat coating her skin under the candlelight of the room. Behind her, somehow in the frenzy, the fallboard of the piano was put back in place, Y/N’s elbows braced on the wood. Somehow, the image of his lover, pliant and waiting for him, leaning against the very instrument that they had spent many afternoons playing together, was almost too much to bear. It was that image, one that he wanted burned into his eyelids, that had him springing into action.

“Hips up,” he ordered, Y/N’s knees shaking as she did what she was told, Yoongi pulling her pants from her body and using a firm hand to have her settle back on the bench. Left in just a pair of white lacy panties that matched the bra she was once wearing, Yoongi wondered if she had planned for this to happen.

Now that her pants were off, the scent of her arousal was nearly enough to knock him out. Sitting there in just her panties, that were so damp with her juices they were see-through, Y/N tried to close her legs again and rub, Yoongi lightly tapping her thigh with a growl.

Thighs shaking, Y/N hissed sharply when Yoongi sunk his teeth into the meat of her thigh, sucking a deep bruise into it, feeling his tail thrash behind him and his boxers becoming unbearably tight. Taking deep breaths through his nose, trying to drink in the scent of her as much as he could, Y/N was begging above him– please, please, please.

“Want me to touch you here?” Yoongi’s eyes flicked up to hers, his fingers ghosting along the lace just above her folds, not touching, but close enough to feel the heat coming off of her core. “Want me to kiss you here? Make you feel good?”

“Oh, please, baby,” Y/N’s voice was strained, scratchy, and there were tears gathering at her waterline out of pure frustration. “N-need you so bad– ah!”

Her watery eyes paired with the begging were enough for Yoongi to stop toying with her, his hand finally cupping her through soaked lace, cunt pulsing against his palm immediately. Hands flying into his hair, Y/N gasped, so far past the point of being so embarrassingly desperate she let her head fall back against the piano.

“Fucking soaked,” Yoongi remarked in awe, using his middle finger to trace a line over the center of her panties, more wetness seeping into the fabric. “You must have thought about this, huh? Me touching you like this?”

Y/N’s hips canted upwards into Yoongi’s hand, chasing more pressure, more pleasure, egged on by Yoongi’s filthy mouth. The heel of his palm pressed into her clit, her toes curling and a wail leaving her swollen lips, the grip she had in his hair stinging his scalp. Without a word, Yoongi pushed the gusset of her panties to the side, not bothering to take them off, the scent of her smacking him square in the face. She was dripping by now, thighs soaked, Yoongi unable to believe how wet he had gotten her, and he was just getting started.

Holding her breath, Y/N stared at ravenous Yoongi’s face between her legs, yelping when he pulled one of her thighs over his shoulder, and before she could process that, Yoongi licked a long, torturously slow stripe up the entirety of her pussy, moaning at the taste of her.

Y/N’s spirit left her body at that moment. Spine arching sharply, she cried out at the sudden onslaught of his tongue on her, cheeks burning. A strong hand pressed to her lower stomach, the other holding her panties to the side, Yoongi used a thumb to swipe over her clit, feeling more of her wetness seep onto his tongue. Y/N’s cries of pleasure grew in volume, prettier than any song he ever heard, dipping his tongue into her spasming entrance, her hips pressing into his face with force.

“Taste so fucking good, baby,” Yoongi mumbled against her core, though Y/N barely heard him through the noises he was pulling from her. He was disgustingly good at what he was doing, alternating between licking through her folds and brushing his lips over her clit, Y/N somehow already close. “Mine.”

“O-oh, your’s,” Y/N agreed, Yoongi satisfied with that reply, simultaneously wrapping his lips around her clit, sucking, and sliding his middle finger into her entrance, her hips jerking into his face with a shriek.

“Tight little pussy,” Yoongi hummed, curling his finger just so to have spots blacking out Y/N’s vision, marveling at how tightly her cunt wrapped around his finger, squeezing. “Fuck, baby.”

“A-Ah! Yoongi, I, I,” Y/N was shaking, sweaty, and looking positively ruined, a choked whimper cutting her off when Yoongi added another finger to the mix, her wetness slipping down his wrist, at that point. “Close!”

Humming again, this time with his lips wrapped around her clit, he sped up the fingers fucking into her heat, his other hand pressing down hard on her lower stomach, determined to make her explode. Babbling incoherently, Y/N shakily laced her fingers with Yoongi’s splayed on her abdomen, the squelching sounds of Yoongi’s fingers pistoning in and out of her making the tips of her ears burn.

“Come on, my love, cum for me, won’t you?” Yoongi purred, Y/N’s vision going white when his lips returned to her little bundle of nerves, sucking hard, his fingers curling viciously against her G-spot. With that, she came with his name ripping from her hoarse throat, Yoongi swearing as she clamped down on him like a vice, her body contorting and writhing on the piano bench. “That’s my good girl, shit, you made such a mess.”

Yoongi worked her through her orgasm, gaping at how her wetness had dripped over the bench, covered his chest, and even made a small puddle on the hardwood floor. When a pained whimper left her mouth, oversensitive, Yoongi pulled his fingers from her pussy, giving her mound a soft kiss, soothingly rubbing one his palms over her quaking thigh, popping his soaked digits into his mouth.

“Oh,” Y/N tried to catch her breath, face flushed, “My god.”

“Good?” Yoongi smirked, rising from his knees and planting a kiss on her sweaty forehead. “You did so well, sweetheart, love you so much.”

Preening at the praise, she dragged him close by his neck, feeling how feverish his skin was while she tasted herself on his lips. Position a tad awkward, Y/N got to her feet by using Yoongi’s chest for balance, hands slipping over the combination of his sweat and her juices that spilled onto his skin.

“We don’t have to do anything else, that was a lot,” Yoongi murmured against her lips, arm around her waist as he tucked hair behind her ear. Instantly, Y/N frowned, gazing down at the very obvious tent in his pants.

Without a word, she snatched up the leopard hybrid’s wrist, dragging him to the leather loveseat, Yoongi making startled noises as she shoved him onto it, cheeks flushed and lips glistening with saliva and cum. Then, it was Y/N’s turn to drop to her knees, Yoongi stuttering out a swear as she bit his collarbone, hands dragging heavily down his toned chest.

“My turn to make you feel good,” she whispered against his skin, Yoongi gathering up her hair and placing it over one of her shoulders.

Teasingly, she ran a fingertip over the little trail of hair leading into the waistband of his sweats, Yoongi releasing a breathy sigh while she mouthed along his neck.

“Baby,” Yoongi stiffened at the sensation of her tits pressing against his chest, groaning. She took him completely by surprise by dipping her hand into his sweats, hand wrapping around his cock through his boxers. “Fuck!”

“Big,” Y/N commented, in awe, experimentally tracing the length of him through his boxers, smirking at the wet patch by his tip. “Want you in my mouth.”

“Holy–” Yoongi’s eyes rolled back, not expecting his sweet little girl to have such dirty thoughts about him. Grumbling at the barrier between her and his cock, Y/N shucked off his sweats, taking his boxers with them.

“Wow,” Y/N breathed, watching his cock spring up and hit his lower abdomen, and Y/N swore she had never seen one so pretty. Chest heaving, Yoongi was staring at her with utter shock, gripping the couch with whitened knuckles.

Without hesitating, she wrapped her hand around the base of him, a groan coming from the leopard hybrid, Y/N watching with rapt interest as precum leaked from his tip, swiping her finger through it and licking it off of the digit, Yoongi letting out a tortured moan. Humming at the taste of him, she wanted more, maintaining eye-contact with him as she brought him to her mouth, licking a similar, slow, long stripe up the underside of his cock, much like he had done when he was eating her pussy.

“Little tease,” Yoongi accused, his chest growing pinker by the moment, long hair sticking to his neck. Wanting him to eat his words, Y/N moved quickly, suckling the reddened tip of his cock into her mouth. “Y/N–!

Yoongi, again, gathered her hair in a fist, wrapping it around his wrist, his eyes slipping shut. Addicted to the sounds he was making and the look on his face, Y/N released him from his mouth, and in a moment of pure confidence, spat on his cock for more lubrication. Yoongi, swearing under his breath, writhed on the couch, Y/N having mercy on him and angling him back into her mouth, taking him deeper this time. Swirling her tongue around his tip, Yoongi moaning and pulling at her hair, she stroked what she couldn’t fit in her mouth with a free hand.

“What the fuck– hngh, sweetheart,” Yoongi managed between pants, eyebrows pulled together in pleasure. “Who knew you could be so naughty? Fuck, wanna fuck your mouth so bad.”

Y/N wanted that too, giving him her best pleading look, Yoongi pushing a hand through his hair with a humorless chuckle.

“You’re fucking unbelievable, my perfect girl,” Yoongi thrusted his hips upwards, Y/N gagging slightly as he hit the back of her throat with the tip of his cock, holding her head in place by her hair as he fucked into her. “Letting me do all these things to you…”

Y/N could already feel her thighs getting slicked up again, thanks to the filth flying from her lover’s mouth, resisting the urge to touch herself to the show he was giving her. After one particularly deep thrust, Y/N purposefully swallowing around him, eyes watering, Yoongi tore himself from her throat, panting wildly.

Finding herself hauled up onto the couch by her wrists, Yoongi tore her panties off, the material actually ripping under the force, Yoongi kissing the wind out of her, his hands everywhere. Shuddering with him on top of her, slotted between her legs, Y/N began to ache, winded from his cock down her throat and how he was working his tongue against hers.

“Want to be inside you when I cum,” Yoongi growled into her ear, Y/N digging her nails into his back as she clung to him for dear life. “Are you…”

Sobering for a moment, Y/N realized what he was getting at, softening and pecking his lips gently.

“I have an IUD,” she told him, and once she did, he dropped back into his intense lust, kissing her deeply. Pressed together so tightly, Y/N didn’t know where her body ended and Yoongi’s began. “Please, Yoongi.”

Using a hand to brace his weight on the armrest above Y/N, she watched him grip the base of his cock, Y/N whimpering brokenly when he dragged the thick head through her folds, catching on her clit. Her legs instinctively wrapped around his waist, mouth dropping open when he repeated the action three more times, her arousal clinging to his length.

“Fuck me,” Y/N begged when he brushed against her clit the fifth time, so crammed full of want it was starting to physically hurt. “Please, baby, I need you.”

Yoongi stiffened, catching the tear rolling down her cheek, deciding to stop teasing her, for now. Besides, if he held off any longer, he was worried his dick would fall off. Positioning himself, he lowered down to an elbow, caging her in, lips finding her as he pushed in, slowly at first.

Y/N keened into his mouth, biting down on the flesh of his lower lip, Yoongi breathing heavily at the sensation of her walls desperately trying to squeeze down on him. He went slow, not wanting to hurt her, but she took inch by inch in stride, sloppily kissing him back. Once his hips were flush with her, Y/N feeling herself frantically fluttering around his cock, she whined, long and reedy reaching up to grasp on Yoongi’s necklace.

“So tight,” Yoongi snarled through gritted teeth, taking everything in him to not pound her into the couch with the way she was clenching down on him, and the wrecked look on her beautiful face.

“Y-yoongi,” Y/N felt him brush away the tear that had tracked down her cheek. “Move, please move!”

Pulling out until there was only about an inch of him still inside her, Yoongi rolled his hips forward, setting a slow, but hard pace to start, Y/N clawing at his back every time her body jerked back due to the force of the thrusts. She was moaning his name again, and Yoongi didn’t think he’d ever tire of that sound, burying his face into her neck and giving her yet another bruising bite.

“So fucking perfect, love you so much,” Yoongi was out of his mind, surrounded by the scent of her, and regretfully, he knew he wasn’t going to last as long as he wanted to. In the back of his mind, however, he didn’t care– there would be plenty of other times he could draw out their pleasure. “Taking me so well… made for me. You’re mine. Fuck, you’re so wet.”

Yoongi couldn’t help himself, with the sounds she was making and the stinging sensation of her fingernails marking up his back, he sped up the pace, rutting into her with abandon. With the quicker pace, Y/N could hardly breathe, every cell in her body alight with pleasure, and it wasn’t long before she felt a second orgasm building low in her abdomen.

“Y-yoongi, you’re gonna– ah! You’re gonna m-make me cum again,” Y/N wailed brokenly, the leopard hybrid sitting up somewhat while still drilling into her, grasping either of her calves so he could fold her in half, ankles over his shoulders. The new angle had both of them moaning loudly, Y/N feeling him so deeply it was like he was in her throat again. “Ohhh my god, fuck!”

Yoongi was determined to get her off again, watching her face screw up in intense pleasure, affection and possession coming over him all of a sudden, turning his face slightly to kiss one of her ankles gently. Hand snaking down her sweaty body, his thumb found her clit again, easily slicking it up and rubbing firm circles around the bundle, Y/N actually screaming at the sensation.

“Gonna cum, love?” Yoongi egged her on, his balls tightening as he raced towards his own finish. “Come on, you can do it. Let go, baby.”

Capturing one of her nipples between his teeth, that was all it took, Y/N coming even harder than she did previously, clamping down on his cock so tightly he gasped, feeling her pussy drench his length. She had her mouth dropped open in a silent scream, convulsing in his arms. It was undoubtedly the sexiest thing he had ever seen, his cock throbbing inside of her as he slowed the pace of his thrusts a bit, the hand that was working her over coming up to rest over her throat. He didn’t squeeze, but the weight of it prolonged Y/N’s orgasm, tears spilling over her cheeks uncontrollably.

“That’s it, take it,” Yoongi cooed, his hips stuttering as he found himself getting close. “Fuck, gonna fill you up.”

Remarkably, he felt her cunt clench around him again, Y/N’s eyes going wide at the thought of him cumming inside of her. Yoongi bit his lip, kissing her sloppily once more, his thrusts becoming irregular in their beat.

“Ooh, you liked that, huh? Want my cum?” Yoongi’s voice was so gravelly, Y/N shuddered at the sound of it nodding, she reached for his hair, and before he could stop her, Y/N’s fingertips pressed firmly into the base of his ear. “Oh, f-fuck…”

Yoongi went still, pushing himself inside of her as far as he could go, dropping his face into Y/N’s neck as he came, spurt after spurt warming Y/N’s insides, whimpering weakly at the foreign sensation, and perhaps enjoying it a little too much. Y/N was shocked at the sheer volume of it, her pussy a bit battered and tender. For a moment, all they did was catch their breaths, Yoongi collapsed heavily on top of her, Y/N weakly stroking through his damp hair, inhaling the smell of his cologne. Still tucked into her neck, Yoongi was purring with content, giving the skin tiny, tender kisses.

“I love you,” Y/N was the first to speak, realizing she hadn’t said it back to him in quite some time, soothingly running her hands down his back, over the raised scratch marks she had given him. “I think you broke me, though.”

Yoongi chuckled tiredly into her skin, lifting his head so he could peck her cheek.

“You’ll be alright,” Yoongi insisted, his face flushed as if he was flustered. “I love you, too.”

Cock softening inside of her, Y/N winced as Yoongi carefully pulled out, giving her sides gentle, reassuring squeezes. Squeaking at the sudden overstimulation of Yoongi’s fingers inside of her, she grabbed his wrist, not ready yet for another round. Yoongi halted, raising an eyebrow, Y/N opening her mouth– to find it effectively shut, Yoongi’s cum-coated fingers shoved inside. Bewildered, she tasted the combination of their releases on her tongue, Yoongi smirking down at her.

“Mmph–”

“What? I thought you said you wanted my cum?” Yoongi teased, a wicked gleam to his hazel eyes. “We should get you cleaned up, though.”

Once Y/N sucked his fingers clean, he pulled them from her mouth, sealing it with a kiss to her upper lip.

“Can’t move,” Y/N complained, feeling boneless. “What about the others? It’s not like I can stroll out of here looking like this.”

“I’ll check to make sure no one’s up here. You can throw on my boxers and shirt, and I’ll carry you to my room, you can shower in my bathroom,” Yoongi helped Y/N sit up, dressing her like a paper doll in his henley, and helping her shimmy into his boxers, Y/N grimacing at the sloppiness between her legs.

After he pulled his sweats back on, Y/N watched him head to the door, unlocking it and peeking his head outside, ears alert as he listened for any of the others. Y/N took the opportunity to ogle his bare back, the pale, perfect skin marred with red scrapes.

Yoongi made his way back to her after a moment, collecting Y/N in his arms and carrying her like a baby koala out of the music room, apparently no one else was upstairs, and he deemed it safe to walk around in their post-sex apparel. Gently, he set Y/N down on her unstable feet, her eyes suddenly going wide with horror when she remembered something important.

“Wait, didn’t you say I made a mess? Shouldn’t I clean that up before someone sees?” Y/N panicked, Yoongi’s eyes scrunching up as he laughed at her, covering his mouth.

“Yeah, there’s a puddle on the floor,” Yoongi told her, Y/N blanching in mortification. “Don’t worry about it, sweetheart. I’ll clean it up after we shower. No one goes in there but us, and Taehyung’s been locked up in the office all day.”

“I-if you’re sure,” Y/N mumbled, still humiliated. Yoongi simply shook his head, leading her into his en-suite, with their hands tangled together, turning on the shower tap.

She let him strip her again, but this time it felt sweet and domestic, holding her hand as he helped her into the shower, Y/N sighing at the hot water sliding down her back. He was quick to follow, letting her hold onto his shoulders as he used a soft, fresh face cloth to mop up the mess they had made between her thighs. Once that was squared away, Yoongi lathered up his loofah with body wash, both taking turns washing each other’s skin, Yoongi even washing Y/N’s hair for her with his spiced vanilla shampoo. Y/N felt like she was glowing, floating, dreaming. She had never felt so cherished in her life, Yoongi gently combing conditioner through her hair, both of them wrapped up in comfortable silence.

After the shower, Y/N giggled when the leopard hybrid bundled her up in a fluffy towel, picking out a pair of his sweatpants and a cozy tee-shirt for her to put on. Once he was dressed, he left the bathroom with a few cleaning supplies to take care of the… mess, Y/N using his hair dryer in the meantime. Her eyelids felt heavy, fatigue taking over after Yoongi pretty much fucked her brains out, waiting for him on the end of his bed. He returned shortly thereafter with a trash bag, shooting her a wink.

“Wanna take a nap? You look beat,” Yoongi peeled his comforter back, motioning for Y/N to crawl into his bed.

“After all of that? Of course I look beat,” Y/N retorted, though crawling across the bed anyways and getting cozy. There was no way she was missing out on that opportunity. “Come here, take a nap with me till dinner.”

Snorting at her grabby hands, Yoongi shuffled around the bed, collapsing on his back and dragging Y/N close so she could rest her head on his steadily-purring chest. Completely content at that moment, Y/N traced shapes over Yoongi’s chest, his arms around her securely.

“So, hybrid ears are really sensitive,” Y/N teased, Yoongi pinching her hip in response. “Duly noted.”

“Go to sleep,” Yoongi grumbled, Y/N laughing freely into his chest, but obediently closing her eyes.

“Love you,” Y/N reminded him, cozy under his big comforter and in his strong arms.

“Mm, too,” Yoongi replied, though it sounded like he was already half-asleep. Grinning to herself, she nuzzled into his chest, falling into a similarly peaceful sleep.

If her other hybrids knew anything about what had gone down between her and Yoongi, none of them said a word about it, even when Y/N winced in the mirror at the colorful bites decorating her neck. Dinner was pretty normal, even when Y/N showed up dressed in Yoongi’s clothes, probably smelling like him overwhelmingly so.

The next day, she had a bunch of running around to do, dropping Yoongi and Hoseok off at the rec center for morning practice, picking up groceries by herself, and standing in the DMV for two hours waiting to fill out applications for Namjoon, Taehyung, Hoseok, and Yoongi to get their driver’s licenses. By the time she made it back from the city after picking Yoongi and Hoseok up, it was already evening, the sun disappearing behind the house.

While the two hybrids who had practice left her at the door to wash up, she cocked her head, hearing loud, jazzy music coming from the parlor. Curiosity taking over her, she headed in that direction. The fire was blazing, and Y/N stopped short when she assessed the scene in front of her: Youtube was playing jazz music videos on the flatscreen, the couch was messy like someone had been laying on it all day, and there was a half-drunk bottle of gin on the table with an empty tumbler. Y/N bought that gin the previous day, which made her nervous to see who had plowed through half of it.

Right on cue, someone stumbled in from the entrance to the kitchen, tread clumsy and heavy. Whipping her head around, she saw Taehyung, pink in the face, dressed messily in a hoodie and sweats, drunker than he had ever been.

“Oh, you’re back,” Taehyung noticed her standing there in shock, his eyes half-shut and his speech slurred. “Nice. Listening to music.”

“Jesus Christ, Tae,” Y/N lurched forward to catch him before he stumbled over a pillow strewn onto the floor. “You’re not a big drinker, what’s going on?”

“Nothing. Wanted a drink,” Taehyung yanked his forearm from her grasp, pouring gin straight into the tumbler and downing a shot. Hissing, Y/N grabbed the bottle, stashing it on the bar cart with her hands on her hips. “Wasn’ done, Y/N.”

Taehyung complained, frowning deeply at her. Cringing at the loud saxophone coming from behind her, she used the remote to turn the volume down, turning around to see Taehyung stalking towards her.

“You’re ready to talk to me now that you’re shitfaced?” Y/N asked, peeved that he let himself get to that state, and even more peeved that he was giving her the silent treatment.

A shadow crossed over Taehyung’s face, Y/N realizing he was backing her up against the wall, a palm coming to settle on the drywall beside her face. Gulping, the strong scent of botanical gin washing over her as Taehyung got in her face, she blinked at him nervously, not used to the ticked-off look he was giving her.

“What’s there to talk about, Y/N?” Taehyung responded, sounding a touch more sober now.

“Why are you so angry?” Y/N breathed, Taehyung’s eyes flickering down to her mouth, a thumb coming up to pull down on her lower lip. Heart going positively still in her chest, she felt panic flood through her, not wanting anything like that happening between them while he was in such a state. However, she couldn’t move a muscle when he neared closer to her mouth, but a breath away.

“Tae, you’re drunk–”

Y/N heard stomping coming into the room, and she saw a familiar hand wrapped around Taehyung’s arm, forcefully pulling him away from Y/N’s space. Yoongi, his hair dripping wet, was standing there with his jaw tense. Taehyung blinked, realization dawned on him, and without another word, he stormed out of the room.

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

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malum-forev · 11 months

Note

If you still have Receiving/ giving a gift available, could you please write about Avenger Bucky receiving a gift from reader, for Christmas or his birthday? But he totally doesn’t expect it and gets all emotional cause he hasn’t received a gift in decades and doesn’t know what to do with the whole thing.

Yes yes yeeesss this is such a great ideaaa <3

“This is stupid.” Bucky grumbled.

“What’s stupid is that you waited until December 24th to buy your Secret Santa a gift!” Sam said, dodging the thousands of people roaming the streets of New York.

“I didn’t think the gift exchange would actually amount to anything.” Bucky groaned. “I thought we would be sent away on a mission!”

“I don’t care what your excuse for procrastination is! I just want you to buy your Secret Santa something.”

“How the hell am I supposed to know what-“

Sam covered his ears. “La, la, la, la. I’m not listening, don’t want any spoilers.”

“I want to be put back in the cryostasis chamber.” Bucky sighed dramatically.

Bucky stretched the neck of the uncomfortable wool sweater someone on the team had forced them to wear. The itchy fabric made his skin red. Whoever started the ugly sweater tradition should be sentenced to life in jail. Bucky thought.

“Will you stop acting like a toddler, we’re supposed to be the adults here.” Sam spoke from the edge of his mouth to not attract any more attention.

“I’m not acting like a child, I’m acting like a senile old man. This is the appropriate way for me to act seeing as I’m over a hundred years old.” Bucky crossed his arms over his chest, immediately regretting the action as he pressed the disgusting fabric against his chest.

“Okay! Bucky’s turn!” Sam yelled, not wanting to bare another second of his friend’s complaining, pushing Bucky to the middle of the circle. All of the agents’ eyes were on him.

Bucky never really celebrated Christmas, back in the 40’s it was common for families to celebrate it but ever since he got out of the ice he- well let’s just say The Winter Soldier didn’t really have time for holiday shopping.

“I got-“ Bucky cleared his throat nervously. “Ryan as my Secret Santa so, here’s a knife.”

The room got eerily silent as they all watched Bucky take out an unpackaged knife from one of his pockets.

Sam facepalmed himself.

“Thanks Sarge.” Ryan awkwardly smiled.

“I sharpened that myself.” Bucky said proudly.

“Let’s move on!” Sam said, this was more painful than he’d ever imagined. “Who got the cyborg as Secret Santa?”

Again, silence met everyone. The agents looked at each other but no one stepped up.

“It’s fine,” Bucky forced a small smile. “I withdrew my name from the bowl. I didn’t need anything.”

Scattered chatter was whispered before they continued with the gifts.

Bucky looked down at his watch an hour later, how much longer would he have to put up with this?

The double doors opened loudly and in you came. You quickly said your hello’s to a couple of your friends and walked straight towards Bucky. With a big smile on your face and a small bag in your hand.

Bucky gulped as you approached him.

“Merry Christmas Sarge.” You beamed, his brain was trying to process your words. Bucky felt like he’d never heard someone call him that, and no one should ever try to top it because it would never compare to how the word Sarge sounded coming out of your lips.

“Me-Merry Christmas.” Bucky stuttered.

“I’m your Secret Santa.” His eyes widened but it seemed like his reaction only made you happier. “I saw you pulling your name out when everyone left so, I decided to pick it up for myself. I hope you like your gift.”

You were truly the human form of sunshine. He thought.

“C’mon, open it. I need to know if you liked it.” You pushed the bag closer to him.

Bucky took it by the handles and peeked inside. It was a book.

He saw how you nervously fidgeted.

“When I got recruited, I researched about you- well both of you, Sam and yourself. God this is embarrassing.” You fumbled with your words. “Anyways, I read that your favorite book was The Hobbit so, I tracked down a first edition copy since well, it’s been edited since it came out and I thought it would be nice for you to have something from back when you first were alive- not alive because well- Oh god, it was stupid right? Giving you a book? You probably don’t even have time to read-“

Bucky cut you off by wrapping his strong arms against your frame.

“This is the most amazing gift I’ve ever received.” He mumbled against your hair. “Thank you.”

“Welcome.” You squeaked.

“This is incredible.” Bucky whispered, not knowing if he could get any other words out without his voice cracking. No one had ever done something as special as this for him.

“You made Barnes smile!” Sam laughed, patting Bucky on the back. “You should get a medal for things like that.”

This one's short and sweet! Hope you like it!

Hi hiiii This is part of my 1k Celebration, if you like this please be sure to look at the Bingo Card and ask for a prompt! Love y'all <;33

And you can find the Bingo master list and what prompts are still available here!

*Any gifs posted are not my own and I give the artist full credit.

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catiuskaa · 5 months

Text

ticklish, cold water nights. —bf!jisung thoughts.

A/N: the bf!thoughts series is finished! I’m so happy I could finish it. I had so much fun coming up with these lil scenarios. Feel free to check them all out, they’re all linked in my masterlist!

i’m an absolute simp for this man. that’s it. that’s me.

(got a bit carried away, oopsies, lol)

jisungie, who softly blinks, sitting in front of his computer screen, eyes itchy and throat dry after hours of work.

jisungie, who wants to drink water, but the bottle in his study room is empty, and the kitchen is too far away for him not to grunt at the thought.

jisungie, who grins like a naughty boy santa would think twice if he should write him down on his list, closing his laptop and waddling to your room, only a few steps away.

jisungie, who smiles like a fool at the sight of you, wearing a sweater of his and a pair of fluffy socks that he gifted you as a joke because the design looked like penguins.

jisungie, who giggles when you move your eyes away from your phone and stare at him from the bed. “Well, well, well, look who it is.” Even after a couple months dating, you still make him blush when you tease him.

jisungie, who happily plops himself down over you, his face lying on your chest until you cradle it with your hands. “Hi, cutie.” You smile, and he grins back.

jisungie, who starts peppering your face with soft kisses, his hands trailing under your—his—sweater. “Hey, lovely.” He mumbles, still focused on his task.

jisungie, whose heart flutters at your giggles. “H-hey! Y-you’re tickling me!” You playfuly start pushing him off you, but your antics don’t work against a gym bro.

jisungie, who stops to let you breathe, and you struggle to catch your breath, your cheeks red and your lungs begging for a break. “You’re a meanie.” You huff, and he kisses your forehead with a smirk.

jisungie, whose smirk grows even wider when you whine. “Baby, no!” He snorts. “Baby, yes.”

jisungie, who teases you, his fingers threatening to tickle you again, stroking your skin under your—his—sweater.

jisungie, a secret meanie. “I want water.” He starts. “And you, beautiful, want me to stop tickling you.”

jisungie, who plays his part, holding back the urge to just grab the water himself when you whine again. You’re so cute, he almost can’t help it. “Not fair!” you pout, and he coos at you.

jisungie, who grins, counting down, now resting comfortably on your bed. “Three… two… one… one and three quarters… one and a half…”

jisungie, who frowns. “No! That’s water from the sink, I want a bottle from the fridge!” You roll your eyes, and he smiles back at you, throwing a kiss.

jisungie, who is slightly confused when you bring a bottle of water— empty. “You didn’t specify if it had to be full.” You mock, sticking your tongue out at him.

jisungie, who raises from your bed and pins you up against the closet, tickling you again. “O-okay, okay! I’ll grab your stupid water!”

jisungie, who smiles cheekily when you hand him the bottle of cold water, and stops you by his side as he takes a sip.

jisungie, who smugly makes you swallow not only your snarky coments when he kisses you deeply, messily passing the water to you, but also said water.

jisungie, who softly cleans the remaining water off your lips. “There. Gorgeous and hydrated.” He teases, and you slap his butt as he cackles, both of you heading off to bed now.

~kats, who has no excuse for that ending, but has no intention of apologizing for it either lololol.

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azzibuckets · 17 days

Text

Paper Rings [Part 3/10 | Paige Bueckers]

Paige Bueckers x fem!reader

Summary: part 3 of the paper rings series! some insight into paige and reader’s friendship before everything happened

A/N: some fluff and fillers before the angst gets real 💔💔

word count: 1.9k

masterlist w/ all parts

FLASHBACK: 1 YEAR AGO

“Is this yours?”

You had been rummaging through Paige’s closet, looking for a clean oversized shirt to wear to sleep. You two often slept over at each other’s place, to the point where your clothes were so mixed up you guys basically shared the same wardrobe. Unfortunately, Paige wasn’t the most organized person, so you were huffing and puffing as you hunted through the piles in the drawers.

The shirt you were holding up had LVN Volleyball Camp splayed across the front, so you knew it definitely wasn’t Paige’s. It was really big though, so you were curious as to whose it was. Just to know if you could wear it or not, you convinced yourself. Not because you were trying to confirm your fears - that this was another girl who Paige had held that wasn’t you.

Paige didn’t look up from her phone when you asked your question, so you crumpled the shirt up into a ball and tossed it at her head. You were no basketball player, but the balled up shirt smacked her on target, right in the face, and you fought back a self satisfied smile.

Paige finally looked up, giving you one of her soft smiles that tugged at your heartstrings. You loved when Paige looked at you like that, all gentle and affectionate, with half of her mouth turned up into a close mouthed grin that you knew so well.

“The shirt,” you gestured at it.

“Oh.” She looked down, unfolding the shirt and studying it before giving out a laugh. “Shit, sorry, that’s Stacy’s. I don’t know how it ended up in my closet. She was just here yesterday.” She folded the shirt into a neat little square and placed it next to her on the bed. “We must’ve been getting a little bit too wild,” she smirked, waggling her eyebrows at me.

Your heart sunk. Yesterday? You mean, you knew Paige talked to a lot of people, but she usually didn’t talk much about it, probably because she knows you get grossed out with too many details. Your chest stinging, you went to sit on the bed next to her. You didn’t wanna find a shirt anymore. All you wanted to do was go to sleep after a long day.

“What’s up? What’s got you being so emo?” Paige got down to lie her head in your lap, looking up at you with her bright blue eyes. Her was nose scrunched slightly, in the way that she does when she’s happy, and she reached up to play with the ends of your hair, twirling the strands between her fingers.

“Nothing. Just tired and moody,” you lied. You drummed your fingers against your thigh.

Paige smirked. “You really need to get laid, Y/N,” she laughed.

You managed to muster out a weak half smile in response to her words, trying to shove down the itchy pain that rose in your heart. “Shut up, Bueckers.”

“Make me.”

You rolled my eyes at her senseless teasing. “You’re such a flirt,” you groaned. Pushing her off your lap, you got up to look for your charger. You could feel Paige’s eyes on you as you moved about her room. Her legs were splayed out, and she was slumped on the bed. You hated when she did that, just looked at you. It felt like she was studying you all bare under a microscope.

The dynamic between the two of you had definitely shifted since last month, ever the drunken incident on the Big East championship night. You had mumbled apologies the morning after, when she had swung by before practice to make sure you were alright. She didn’t really listen to them, shoving you in that good natured way and assuring you that you guys were “chill like that” and that she could never be really mad at you.

But ever since then, there’d been a tension between the two of you. It spiked in moments like this, where she would start shamelessly flirting with you, trying to get a rise out of you. You didn’t mind much, per se, until you really thought about it and realized there was no meaning behind her flirting. But that was a disappointing reality you were trying to ignore.

“Come back to bed,” Paige called out. This time, you couldn’t tell if she’d meant for it to sound so sexual, but you crawled back into the bed where Paige was bundled up under the sheets.

“You look like a kid,” you giggled, “all wrapped up like a burrito.”

Paige rolled her eyes, a small smile playing at her lips. You felt her grab your waist and pull you closer so now you were both under the mountain of blankets and pillows she had formed. “You’re so warm,” she mumbled sleepily, pressing her forehead against your shoulder.

Both of you knew this was not how normal best friends slept together have a sleepover. But neither of you cared. This was where you felt most comfortable in the world, with Paige’s arm slung across your chest and one of her legs intertwined between yours. Her face was buried in your neck now, and her hair tickled your cheeks.

You could get used to this forever, you thought as you went to sleep.

——————————

Your heart thrummed with anticipation. Today was the day UConn would face off against Louisville in the Final Four of March Madness. You missed Paige; the last time you saw her was when you slept over two days ago. Ever since then, she’d be busy, understandably so. Basketball was her life, and she dedicated all of herself to the sport in times of competition like this.

Paige had gotten you a court-side ticket using one of the family spots allotted to her. Only her dad, step-mom, and Drew could make it to the game; her mom’s side of the family were on a vacation in Spain. On one side of you was Drew, who was happily bouncing in his seat, wearing one of his sister’s jerseys that was adorably big for him, and on the other side was Kayla, who’d gotten this game off but still wanted to watch anyways to support the girls.

As you watched the game, you oscillated between moments of pure joy and happiness when Paige sunk one of her 3s, moments of anger when one of the girls got fouled on without getting any calls for it, and moments of uncertainty when Louisville scored another point and the UConn girls tried to fight off their dejection from showing on their faces.

But you started to stay in the realm of uncertainty once Louisville started gaining, leading by 12 at the end of the third quarter.

“Are they gonna lose, Y/N?” Drew turned to you with a hopeful look in his eyes. You swallowed the knot in your throat. Basketball was everything to this team, and they’d worked so hard to get here. They didn’t deserve to lose, not when they were this close to the national championship.

“I hope not, buddy,” you responded quietly, and ruffled his hair. For the last quarter, Drew gripped your hand, swinging his legs anxiously as the game unfolded.

Despite the team’s best efforts, UConn fell to Louisville, 75-66, and the girls walked off the court, pain fresh in their eyes, their necks steeped with sweat and jerseys sticking damp to their chest. They moved tiredly, some of them being collected for brief post-game interviews while all of the others headed back to the locker rooms.

You made eye contact with Paige, and she pursed her lips, shaking her head sadly before slinging a towel around her neck and following the rest of the girls out.

“She looks so sad,” Drew’s voice was quiet next to you. You could tell he was upset too.

“It’s okay, buddy,” you assured him. “You know what? I bet they’re still selling the pretzels outside. Wanna come with me and see if they have any more churro bites?” Drew’s face lit up at that, and he eagerly shot up from his seat and grabbed your hand.

Paige’s dad, Bob, shot you a grateful smile. “We’ll find Paige, talk to her. You guys join us after, alright?”

You nodded, leading Drew out. To your luck, the pretzel stand had one more scoop of churro bites left that the man gave to you for free since they were closing down.

“Good, Drew?” You reached around him and stole one of the churro bites, popping one in your mouth.

“Y/N!” He groaned, sending me a fake glare. “Now you owe me.”

“I brought you all the way over here for pretzels and I owe you?” You gasped in offense, folding your arms and sending him a fake glare back.

He nodded solemnly. “Yeah. Now you owe me a piggy back ride.”

You laughed. “Okay, hop on,” you agreed, bending down. Drew cheered and jumped on your back, causing you to stumble forward. Both of you giggled as you straightened yourself, and you carried Drew all the way down to the locker rooms.

A security guard stood in the entrance to the hall of the locker rooms, a bored look in his eyes. As you tried to pass, he raised a hand. “Sorry miss,” he stated in a monotonous voice. “Players only.”

“It’s alright, she’s with me,” a voice called out. You looked up to see Paige at the end of the hall, her hair wet and tied up in a loose bun. Even after having just played a tough game, she looked unbelievably gorgeous, her cheeks rosy from the exertment from earlier.

“Paigey!” Drew clambered off my back and barreled into Paige, squeezing his little arms around her waist. Paige, ever the big sister, managed to push aside her feelings from the Final Four loss and look happy for Drew, whom she hadn’t seen in months.

“Hey, bud,” she said quietly, bending down to give him a proper hug. “I missed you.”

They talked in low tones for a moment, Paige smiling fondly at her little brother, before Azzi came along from the locker rooms and stole Drew away to meet the other girls.

Now it was just you and Paige in the hall. She stood up, and you moved to her. Before you knew it, she was in your arms, hugging you so tight you could barely breathe. You wrapped your arms around her, one hand coming up to play with the baby hairs at the nape of her neck, an effort to do whatever possible to comfort her.

“Hey,” you turned your head so your mouth was next to her ear. You whispered in her ear gently, “It’s not your fault.”

Paige drew back, her eyes glassy. Breathing shakily, she said, “All those 3s that I missed. Geno was counting on me. He said I had to step up since Azzi was injured, but I didn’t step up. I missed so many.”

I gripped her waist. “Look at me,” I said firmly. When she looked up to made eye contact, I brought my hands up to hold her face so that she couldn’t look away. “What about all the points that you did make? And all the plays you set up for your teammates? I don’t know much basketball, but I watched you out there, and you played with so much fierceness and grit. You played so goddamn good. Don’t be ashamed. At all.”

Paige reluctantly nodded, before pulling me into another hug. We stood there silently, her face buried in my neck and my arms hooked around her waist, until one of the UConn team assistants came bounding the hall.

“Uh,” he scratched his neck nervously as his eyes flitted between the two of us. “Sorry to interrupt, but it’s time for Paige to do press.”

Paige groaned. She stepped back, separating our bodies. “Come over later?” She whispered. “Please?” Her eyes searched mine, all hopeful. She was hurting, and hurting bad.

“Of course, P.” I squeezed her hand before stepping back too, letting the assistant shuffle her away to the press hall.

#paige bueckers #paige bueckers x you #uconnwbb #wbb #wcbb #fluff #enemiestolovers #friends to lovers

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