#FLUFFY DOMESTIC STUFF IS WHAT I LIVE FOR

[m-ayo-o]

i always imagined megumi being a stickler for rules and whatever.. and assuming being physical with hybrid pets is taboo, what made him break and make it a habit for bunny 👀👀

18+ smut / 21+ bf megumi x afab hybrid bunny girl reader, first time. hybrid fics short answer: he felt so guilty one time after coming home to find his pretty bunny baby humping a pillow :( long answer:

Megumi is a strict owner. Fair. But very strict. Some of the things he says break your heart, especially when it's your time of the month, but he tells you he's just trying to take care of his bunny in the best way possible.

"No, you can't come into my room tonight."

He made that mistake once- allowing you to sleep with him in his bed because you were cold and it turned out to be excuse just to get your hands all over him. He lifted you up and placed you back in your own bed immediately. You have your own room anyway, since he earns enough money for a big apartment for the two of you.

What really gets to you, though, is when he says stuff like-

"Bunny, you can't hug me. Not today."

It's only when you're feeling really needy. He just knows you'll try to turn innocent cuddling into something more and you'll start feeling his back and coaxing him into kissing you.

He has kissed you. Only once. But it was long and hot and passionate and you'll never forget it. You dream of it.

But the last straw, that really sends you over the edge, is when he tells you, in the height of your heat, when you're at your most sensitive-

"I'm going out with Yuji. Please try your best to behave."

Ugh. You groan and curse your owner, watching him step out of the apartment door and close it in your face without so much as a pat on the head.

~

So now, after you decided your fingers weren't enough and that you just needed something bigger between your legs, you grab a firm but silky pillow and place it over that little spot that's throbbing just above your entrance. In your horny delirium, you took yourself to his bedroom, got onto his bed with his scent everywhere and started touching yourself. You have no idea what you're doing, really, just following the feelings and you start to rub your hips up and down, dragging them over the material. Your skirt is hiked up and your panties are long gone, and you know, if your owner could see you right now... he wouldn't be pleased.

Just thinking of Megumi being angry with you makes your eyes well up with tears, and when that pulsing heat reaches its height, you start to cry out for him. Lost in your whimpering and whining, with his image in your head and the pillow shamelessly stuffed between your legs, the feeling suddenly spreads over your body and you're left convulsing and panting on the bed.

You collapse with your heart hammering in your fluffy ears, and you start to move slower. You're breathing so hard you didn't hear the front door open, the footsteps down the hallway or the bedroom doorknob turning.

"Bunny-"

You turn around, with your cheeks all flushed from what you've just been doing, and you see him. You feel frightened at first, but then you see the look of shock on his face and you realise he isn't angry.

He's never seen you like this before. He's always... pushed it out of his mind, telling himself that his sweet bunny doesn't do stuff like this. It's not as if it's particularly normal for owners to think of their bunny girls in that way.

Hybrid pets are meant to be companions... or friends. They are very well suited to domestic living, seeing as they're part human, and he just ardored the idea of having such a sweet and friendly bunny girl living with him every day.

But he'd be lying if he said he hadn't imagined just... lifting the fluffy ball of your tail up to reveal what's hidden underneath.

He doesn't have to imagine it now, though.

He can see everything he's been dreaming of. With your skirt up over your hips, your ass in the air, your beautiful skin perfectly soft and... wet. He notices all the juices dripping down your thighs and his eyes soon find the source.

"Ugh-"

He feels his cock jerk in his pants when he sees that creamy mess between your legs. The pillow is lowered now, resting on the bed, but he can tell exactly what you were doing. You're still lost in a daze, but when you find him staring so intently you scramble to sit up and hide yourself from him.

But he doesn't like that.

He steps forward and stands behind you, reaching out a hand to find the waistband of your skirt. He tugs it, dragging your body towards him and pulling your ass up again so your pussy is on perfect display.

"You've done it now, bunny," he strokes the back of your leg and feels you start to tremble.

"It's okay, I'm not mad."

One hand remains wrapped around your skirt, the other finds your ass cheek. He tugs it.

"I just- I'm sorry... for neglecting you, and not helping you with..." his eyes refocus on the prettiest, tightest pussy he's ever seen, "your heat."

Although your brain is helplessly grappling with all the ifs and buts of the situation, you notice your owner sounds different.

"Bunny, I'm sorry," he says again, making you whimper almost silently and shake your head. It's not his fault you ended up like this. It's just natural and you didn't know what to do and-

"I could've helped you..."

You feel him lowering his body behind you, bending over.

"Do you want me to help you?"

Shock runs through your system when you feel his lips on the back of your thighs, then moving closer to the mess you made between your legs. You feel suddenly and intensely embarrassed.

"N-n-no owner, I'm sorry, it's okay, I, I didn't mean to-"

"No," he speaks so firmly and holds you still to stop your squirming, "it's not okay. Please will you let me make it up to you?"

~

You're not sure if this is normal behaviour, even for humans, but when your owner connected his lips to your pussy from behind he made a noise so loud and deep like you've never heard before. He asked you one more time if this was okay, received a frantic nod from you, and he dragged your body down the bed. He flipped you over onto your back and dropped to his knees on the carpet, spread your legs and sunk his tongue in as deep as it would go.

You have no idea what's happening to your body, but you feel hot all over, especially a spot inside you that he keeps touching with the tip of his tongue. All sorts of noises are spilling from your lips now... you feel so confused and your body starts moving by itself. Your hips grind up into his face and he encourages you, sucking that little bud and holding your thighs firmly.

"Come on, bunny, mmh- cum on my tongue, please-"

He mutters his commands into your pussy and you just let go. This is nothing like what you did earlier. The pillow was just dull and soft- the little spike of pleasure at the end felt very nice. But with Megumi's tongue, his hands on you, his voice vibrating through your core, he brings you to a feeling you've never experienced before. And he's so pleased, watching you bend and your hands fly to his hair. There's nothing you can do but tug there and let all of your pretty noises spill out until your body stops shuddering.

"Good, good girl, you made such a mess, look-" he kisses your clit and licks his lips, sitting up and admiring the pink on your cheeks.

"Do you want more?"

You shake your head. You can't handle any more of that.

But it seems that's not what he meant.

"Don't say no, baby, please-" it's too late now. He's too far gone not to enact the next step of his fantasies. He has to do it.

He pushes you back on the bed and your eyes fly wide when you see him open up his jeans and tug down his boxers.

It feels natural that he gets between your legs and rubs you there. It feels natural when he starts sinking in and telling you what a pretty bunny you are and that you're doing very well. It feels so natural... so why do you feel scared of your owner right now?

He has a look in his eyes that makes you scream his name, especially now his thing is halfway in. You claw at his arms and try to tell him that it hurts, but your words are getting all silly and you're not making much sense.

"Bunny, I know you were humping that pillow- let me just show you what you're supposed to have in here-" he takes one hand and presses on your tummy gently, edging himself in more.

"God, you're so fucking tight- just, here, like this. This is my dick, right here. Do you like it?"

~

Now, every time you get that hot feeling in your stomach... you know what to do. You know only his body can satisfy you.

megumi | m.list

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #female reader #megumi fushiguro #18+ content #megumi x reader #megumi cutie #megumi smut #hybrid reader #hybrid girls #bunny!reader #bunny owner #bunny girl

[captain-joongz]

Space for two

Pairing: demon!Kim Taehyung x f!reader

Genre: smut, both angsty and fluffy, dark themes, positive ending, historical au (maybe like 18/early 19th century Joseon)

Summary: Trapped in a marriage arranged by our families, married to a cold, uncaring man and taking care of a farm in the middle of nowhere, I had sunken to the lowest lows. Aware of my husband's gambling habits and love for brothels that often kept him from home, I'd gotten used to the feeling of falling asleep in a cold, empty bed. But that changed one day, when an uninvited guest made himself quite at home and brought with him warm touches and scorching dreams. Gentleness coming from the one least expected may just be the push into the right direction.

Word count: 25.4k

Warnings: some dark themes, demon Taetae (he's a sweetie though), he's messing with the reader a little tho, he does have some slight yandere vibes, themes of depression and loneliness, infidelity, a shitty husband, some themes and mentions of domestic violence and verbal abuse (at one point the husband grabs her by the hair, throws stuff around the house), mentions of death and murder

NSFW warnings: slightly dubcon-ish (at first he visits her dreams), reader is inexperienced and embarrassed, slight innocence/corruption kink if you squint really hard, wet dreams, fingering, dirty talk, praise kink, making out, handjob, unprotected sex (it's joseon :// you be careful out there), some slight breeding kink, half clothed sex

A/N: super late but finally here!! i'm sorry for all the delays, but this just kept getting longer and longer and i had to juggle it between schoolwork, but i hope it is worth the wait! this is actually based on a korean folklore story of prince cheoyong, which i explain in the end notes so i don't spoil anything hehe

I was preparing the food in silence, the only sounds in the room the clanking of my knife on the cutting board and slight bubbling in the pot over the fire. It was winter and so I kept the doors leading to the yard closed, but I still heard the thuds of my husband chopping firewood, the dull thumps of the wood hitting the ground, the swish of his axe in the air.

I was already well used to this, to the silence of this place.

It was a quiet that could only come from unhappiness and spite, the kind that made you feel lonely and desolate, knowing the only other person around rather chose to not speak than engage with you. It was what I had come to know very well in here.

I had found myself married quite abruptly. It was a little over a year ago, when a messenger from the Ryu family of the neighbouring village arrived at our door. My father accepted him, but didn’t speak of what the meeting was about, which raised some suspicions between the women of the family. I was the second child of the family and the eldest of the daughters, and way past the age when women of my standing usually married. It felt like we all knew what it would come to.

My unmarried status was a bit of a controversial story around these parts.

I wouldn’t call our family exactly disgraced, but we weren’t at the full glory the Kangs used to stand at, back in the days of my great great great great-grandfather, who built the family into a considerable fortune, but whose grandson to the family’s great embarrassment failed the gwageo examinations several times and couldn’t secure an official position. The family had tried to bribe their way into the office, but the local official came from a family that had been feuding with ours for a few generations, over something that was no doubt petty and no longer relevant. He basked in the desperation of our family and wished for nothing more than to see them crash and burn, thus if we couldn’t secure a position through the examinations, he wouldn’t allow any bribery in order to destroy our clan.

The embarrassment continued as neither his son, nor his grandson were able to pass the qwageo and our family was stripped of our title. We had been living on the rapidly thinning fortune, trying to keep some sort of decorum, but feeling the full force of shame the other inhabitants from our area showed towards us. To them, we were pathetic. Just some thirty years ago we were strolling through these streets as if we owned them and now, disgraced and quickly running out of options, here we were – on the same level as them.

My father was able to break the family curse by starting a successful shop with trinkets, toys and other useful little devices, which allowed us to stay afloat money-wise, but cast us further into shame, considering our family had once been part of the yangban class and thus weren’t supposed to work. Even if disgraced, rules applied to us, and we were a great embarrassment to those who we used to call friends and allies.

The curse was further broken when father in his quite advanced age managed to pass the gwageo and got a spot in local office. He pushed my younger brothers into studies, as his pride never took this situation lightly. He was brought up to be an aristocrat, but here he was, working his days away like a commoner. In the end, his obsession was fruitful when two of my three brothers also passed their examinations and entered into civil duty, one striving for the office and one for the military service. The middle son, who struggled with his studies, was put in charge of the shop where he excelled.

As such, we were suddenly catapulted back into our previous standing, after several generations of disgrace, after struggling financially and fighting for survival every month, we were back to walking the streets with our chins held high, wrapped from head to toe in silk.

And that’s where the controversy about my marriage started.

As most young people, I had been promised and engaged to a young boy from a different neighbouring village. Due to the fact that we lost our title, I couldn’t strive for marriage withing the yangban class – after all, social standing was inherited after the mother, so I couldn’t be more than a concubine since I would curse my child with low social status. But that would be a hit to my father’s pride. Therefore he rather engaged me to a son of a lower middle class trader. To them, I was someone of a better status as they had never received a title, and my family would expand their funds.

But then several things happened all almost at once.

We regained our status, thus our marriage in my father’s eyes was no longer appropriate, even though finding someone from the yangban who would want me to marry their son would be nigh impossible. He demanded the breaking of the engagement, which was something the society looked down upon, especially since he had sealed the deal years ago. The two families started feuding, the trader now even more eager to secure me for them, and my father with his regained confidence insisting upon marriage to someone “of our class”. And during this time, the boy fell ill and promptly died.

Since we were engaged, I now was to be considered his widow even though we hadn’t had our wedding, but my father insisted that the engagement was broken off and I had no such obligation. The trader of course claimed the complete opposite and demanded we go through with everything as was arranged. The people in the area, even if they followed the drama between the two families closely and listened to gossip religiously, they themselves couldn’t tell who was telling the truth. Our engagement had been in place for years, but it was also widely known that my father has changed his mind and demanded for the wedding to be off.

In the eyes of some I was free to marry, but some viewed me as a young widow, a ghost bride, and thus I couldn’t find another husband unless I wanted to bring huge shame on the family and reap cosmic consequences. But most simply disliked my father for his underhanded tactics and newfound arrogance.

But this situation had made the question of my marriage impossible to solve. It was already unlikely that a match of my father’s expectations would be willing to take me as a first wife and honour me as such, since the yangbans looked down on us heavily, and now I had become tarnished goods in the eyes of potential suitors. My family still tried desperately to pawn me off to someone, but we had turned into a huge joke between the families in the area and I was doomed. Some even started to view me as a cursed woman, touched by black magic, that would bring death to any man who would want to marry me, and that was a final nail in the coffin of my marriage.

But my father wouldn’t give up so easily. He still had something that many desired enough to risk a curse on their family – money and power.

Thus, when the messenger had come and father refused to divulge any information about the nature of the meeting, the wives and daughters that had amassed in our house over the years all whispered about a potential engagement. I thought it was possible, but it was probably for one of my younger sisters. I was wrong.

The Ryu family used to be a powerful local aristocracy, but over the last few generations they had fallen considerably. Their disgrace wasn’t as openly talked about as ours, even though they were the centre of some mean-spirited jokes, however they had one powerful advantage. They didn’t lose their title, just most of their money. While their children still could live their lives telling everyone they were yangbans, they didn’t have the money to uphold the lifestyle. Only one of their sons had an office and it wasn’t enough to keep the whole extended family afloat. There were rumours of gambling, addiction and unwise spending, which were the most probable factors in their fall.

They knew no one self-respecting would marry their children, who were all pushed into working for their livelihood, and they couldn’t marry under their standing lest the children lose their status. That’s when they came up with the bright idea to get into talks with our family.

My father didn’t waste any time. For him, this was perfect – the right class, family with still some respect left intact, he had enough money, so he didn’t mind striking a business deal with the mostly impoverished family and I was used to working, as I had also grown up before our rise. It was just the perfect deal.

From the moment I had first heard about it, it was barely two months before I found myself fully engaged and a week away from a wedding to a man I’d never met before. He was the second son; he had a house on the foot of the mountain a little further away from the town that was the heart of this area. It would take some travelling, but still remained close enough to keep close ties.

Our wedding ceremony was brief and awkward, a lot of stilted conversation and pretend joy, while my mother and sisters all gathered around me in silent support. I saw their sad and worried eyes, the graveness of their usually more cheerful voices, the barely masked sympathy they looked at me with when I interacted with my stone-faced husband. Marriage was something I had since long made peace with, after all it is what every woman has to face at some point in her life, so I had just squeezed their hands and smiled at them gently, whispered words of assurance and prepared myself for the long journey to my new home.

I had soon found out he was a cold quiet man, rough and unhappy. Most of the time he wouldn’t address me with much more than grumbling complaints, cross when I tried to speak to him, when I asked him questions or requested something to be bought, turning away from me and rather spending time tending to his house and to his animals.

I was suddenly confined to a few rooms within an unwelcoming dark house, knitting or sewing or cooking, trying to lose myself in the mindless tasks of caring for a man and a household instead of dwelling on the growing despair in the pit of my stomach. Since then the situation between us has considerably worsened, but I found that the angrier he grew with me, the less he wanted to see me and the more he avoided me, which had begun to bring me relief. I was lonely and I did feel abandoned, but it was better than surviving in the same room as him.

I had gotten used to the air of gloom hanging over this dwelling.

My hand reached over for another carrot and found none, and I startled myself out of reminiscing. The vegetables were cut and the stew was boiling vigorously, so I busied myself with finishing. The sounds of chopping wood have ceased and I could no longer hear any traces of my husband’s presence.

Curious, I opened the door and peeked outside. The bitter coldness of the air immediately bit into my face and I shuddered, my body shocked by the sudden freezing temperatures when it was so warm from the kitchen fire. Looking over the yard, I didn’t see the hulking form of the man I’d come to live with, but I did see his fresh footprints in the snow leading towards the pig sty. Satisfied I walked back in and closed the door again. Rubbing my hands on my arms and cheeks I hurried back to the pot to warm up.

Soon the sun would go down and night would fall, so he was tending to the pigs for the last time tonight, making sure they had everything, which gave me a little more time to finish up dinner.

Some maybe half hour later the door finally opened roughly and he made his way in wordlessly. There were wet footprints on the floor left behind and a puddle was slowly gathering as melted snow dripped from his coat. I bit my tongue and said nothing, just pulled out the table and started setting it for dinner.

No words were traded and yet the atmosphere chilled considerably, the mood dropping low along with the sun on the horizon. We sat down, we ate in silence. Once he was done, he again got up, put a fresh coat on and was out of the door before I could even wish him a good night.

I used to ask where he was going, but there was no longer any need for that. He spent his evenings and nights in the same place every day, it was a habit that must have started a little before our betrothal. He had found himself some new friends from the town, friends that very happily spent most of their time playing cards, smoking opium, drinking and crawling from brothel to brothel.

Around the time of our wedding, he only joined them a few nights of the week and usually came back in the middle of the night. Back then I saw it as a problem and oftentimes tried to dissuade him from throwing away money this way. His family lost all they had because their young lord lived this exact lifestyle, it was foolish for him to fall down the same trap, but it was a frequent cause of arguments between us and the more I pushed for him to not go out and spend so much money, the more he wanted to. Gradually he went more often, came back later, until I had started waking up to an untouched, unslept in bed.

But I do have to admit that nowadays I saw it more as a relief that he never spent his nights home, even if that meant our already hard-to-come-by money was being thrown out the window like it was nothing. I’d come to prefer spending time alone.

I cleaned up after dinner and started preparing myself for bed. The ritual of changing clothes, brushing out my hair and smoothing out the bedding on the mats was helping me calm down every evening, but tonight I couldn’t find rest for some reason. While I sat on the floor and carefully brushed my hair, the house felt chillier than usual and I kept hearing soft creaks from the outside as if someone was walking around on the porch. It’s just the wind and the frost, it must be.

Unsettled I lost the battle with myself and went to look out into the yard. The moment I got near the door, suddenly a gust of chilling wind bust the door open and I screamed with shock, covering my naked arms to shield them from the frost. Immediately I jumped towards the door to close it back up, not before looking out into the yard and the forest beyond the walls of our house. There was a full moon hanging over us in the night sky and its light allowed me to see everything with startling ease, casting an eerie silver glow over the murmuring trees. I quickly shut the door and sat back down to help my heart calm down, as it was beating so hard I feared it might tear right out of my ribcage.

After I laid down, it took me a long moment to settle down enough for sleep to start licking at my consciousness. I kept startling myself with every crack and every hum of the wind outside and the fright from before still coursed through my veins, making me shiver and trying to persuade me there was something wicked hiding behind the darkness, lurking in every corner and waiting for an unguarded moment.

But somewhere along the way I did nod off and when I woke up in the morning, I was certain the strong arms that at some point found their way around my waist and pulled me into a warm wide chest were nothing more than a dream. An embarrassing dream that just spoke of my sombre solitude.

In the first months of our marriage, much to my chagrin, Minhwan practiced his marital rights almost nightly. Some nights he would return late from his outings with friends and immediately roll over on me and demand I submit. I did of course, it was expected of me and I was well aware of that. I had been taught that.

But over the course of several months, the frequency of such encounters lessened as I wasn’t getting pregnant, until we no longer even spoke to each other and his side of the bed became permanently unoccupied.

Of course, there was a simple, and really the only, reason for my introduction into this family – a child. A son. That was the end-goal of this union and the purpose for my existence in their eyes. After I had failed to fall pregnant despite months of effort, the man I married who already wasn’t very kind to me slowly turned into someone crueller, angrier. I could see the frustration taking over him until he completely lost himself in the rage at my uselessness.

He couldn’t divorce me, even though my inability to bear him an heir would be a legitimate reason. His family was already teetering on the edge of respectability, and this would make them the laughing stock of the town, since they definitely wouldn’t be able to find him another bride. That was because of the other issue. Money. They bought me with what last they had left and if divorced they would not only lose my father’s protection and financial help, but also wouldn’t be able to scrounge up enough money to buy another woman, if they even found one that was willing.

Minhwan knew that, knew that he couldn’t get rid of me, and even though his status would allow him to take a second wife or even a concubine, he couldn’t afford them. What little he had he gambled away and spent on girls in the red district; and not much was left for actually running the household and keeping us alive. No self-respecting family would let their daughter enter a family like that and women who were after money and status wouldn’t find anything here. And if he had an illegitimate son from a kisaeng, he could hardly bring it here and claim him as an heir, his father would never let him disgrace the bloodline like that.

Thus in his eyes I was worse than useless. I was his doom, a wasted effort that only pushed him further down and he no doubt felt that the best thing I could do for him was to die, so he could remarry. That’s why I preferred when he didn’t return home for the nights. Living alongside such pure hatred was draining.

When I was sitting by the mirror in the morning, I had just heard him return home. I opened the door a crack and peeked outside, just catching his eye as he was changing into fresher clothes. He held the contact for a few beats of my wild heart and then looked away.

“Breakfast?” he asked gruffly, not even forming a full sentence, while still looking away from me. I followed his gaze and found it stuck to the door leading into kitchen. I sighed quietly, making sure he couldn’t hear me lest he gets angry with my insolence.

“I will prepare it in a second,” was my short answer. He wasn’t interested in hearing anything more, the less I said the better. Thus my morning routine had to be cut short. Walking past him, I was suddenly bombarded with the smell of smoke, stale alcohol and cheap perfume and powder. The stench was a bit too strong for my queasy morning stomach and I felt it roll a few times, threatening to spill even though it was empty. I subtly covered my nose and busied myself into the kitchen smelling pleasantly of food and spices. This room has become my refuge. I knew he wouldn’t overstep here, this was my domain and I felt at least a semblance of power in here.

As distracted as I was, I kept finding my tools in places where I didn’t leave them in. I would turn around and suddenly my spoon would be laying two paces further into the room then I remembered leaving it. I told myself I was just tired, I was feeling unnerved by my husband’s hulking presence on the doorstep of the room, watching me prepare porridge as if fearing I’d poison him if he’d look away for a moment, I was still flustered by my dreams and nervous from the scare the night before. Surely it was that.

That day I spent mostly inside, sitting by a dying fire trying to mend broken and torn clothes, worn thin by hard labour and years of wear, but I couldn’t shake off the feeling of unsettlement that has been plaguing me since yesterday’s evening.

By the time the night fell and Minhwan left again, I found myself quite anxious to be left alone in the cold house, still feeling like a presence was glued to my side, invisible and watching me, but every time I would look over my shoulder, I’d find an empty room. Before settling down to sleep, I walked out and checked the courtyard again, and just like the previous evening, it was illuminated by a silver light so brightly it was almost shocking.

I looked to the sky and was stunned by the giant full moon hanging over my head. The night was calm, much calmer then yesterday, no wind shaking the trees and the only sound was the distant cawing of a bird. The white snow reflected the night sky and blinded me, but not enough to not notice the stark contrast of pitch black footsteps disrupting the otherwise clean coat over the ground. I could see their path clearly, leaving the house and disappearing behind the gate, and they filled me with gentle sadness. With my mind off of the ghost of a feeling that’s been following me the whole day, I made my way back inside to sleep. But I wasn’t prepared for what the night had prepared for me.

As soon as I closed my eyes and started drifting off, I felt the mat and bedding shifting as another body laid down next to me. I had fully accepted it, not questioning the arms making their way around my waist and pulling me into a warm hug. It felt as a very clear dream, and I found myself fighting to open my eyes to see, but instead chose to sink into the comfortable atmosphere. There was a hum behind me, but the voice was so deep and pressed so close to me it almost felt like a purr. Non-consciously I answered with my own, drifting with the current. I fooled myself into this, so desperately needing to feel a nice touch that I didn’t even want to think about why somewhere deep down I felt alarmed and unsettled at the situation. I buried that away and let the hands run along my sides, basked in the quiet humming somewhere right behind my ear and the warmth it filled me with.

When I woke up in the morning, it was to the sound of a door slamming open and heavy steps and sighs. I was confused for a few moments, subconsciously searching for the comfort I had felt in my sleep, only to be hit with a wave of embarrassment and mortification. I had been dreaming again, imagining inappropriately a stranger’s presence in my bed, hoping for a touch and comfort of man’s hands.

I felt the blush spill over my face just as the door to the bedroom flew open and my husband found my gaze. I saw suspicion in his eyes, most probably not used to seeing me in such a flustered state and questioning what could stand behind it. His eyes shifted subtly over the room as if looking for a hidden lover and in my mind I chuckled. He dragged me away into the woods, and living in the middle of nowhere and not allowed to leave the house without him or an attendant I couldn’t afford, how could I have possibly found a lover? No one came here and I went nowhere, the only company I knew was the animals and a warm fire, a needle and a thread and worn books, I couldn’t take the same liberties he has been taking for a better part of our marriage.

When Minhwan made sure I was completely alone, just as he left me, he looked back to me and asked for breakfast. That broke the strange silence and I was thrown right back into the routine of my normal days.

Over the following few nights, the dream kept coming back to me, but every time the unknown man in my fantasy went a little further. More often than not I found myself waking up with a start, blushing red from head to toe at the daring hands that kept straying more and more south, embarrassed with myself but also not wanting them to stop before I had the chance to experience whatever my subconscious wanted to grant me.

At first, his hands would only lightly caress along my side, as if trying to console me and help me sleep peacefully, while he hummed along some kind of a lullaby behind me. Everything always felt pleasantly fuzzy and I’d come to think of him as my dream guardian. My days, in comparison, felt dull and sad, and I’d found some sort of peace in these dreams.

But soon, the direction started to change. The hands strayed lower onto my thighs, grabbing the flesh lightly and teasingly, or going over my stomach until they were right under where my breasts were. I could feel him pressed closer to me too, his front moulded around my back, shoulders caging me in, the sweet humming slowly turning into something more akin to satisfied purring, causing me to flush red and a rush of excitement to flow through my veins. He always laid behind me and his existence felt like half here half not, but the closer he pushed himself, the more solid his presence was, the warmer I felt in the embrace and the more flustered I woke up.

Clearly, I hadn’t been taking proper care of my body and it was screaming for some sort of attention, there was no other explanation for these embarrassing dreams. The shame I felt from such urges surfacing in this manner was overshadowed only by the pressing loneliness, and I kept telling myself that even if I am a married, proper woman, dreams are dreams, and indulging in them a little wouldn’t hurt anyone, right? So, I let myself slip into sweet sleep every night, anticipating where my mind would take me.

During the day the little slip ups would continue. I would misplace things, find them in completely different places then I’d left them before. Sometimes it felt as if I was losing my mind, that the combination of the strange dreams and my sudden scatteredness meant I was finally feeling the effects of the situation I’d find myself in. But I could swear sometimes I would catch a glimpse of shadow or hear a gust of wind that sounded suspiciously like a laugh when I couldn’t find something. It made me feel even more insane.

The moment I realised what was truly happening came a few days later. Even though I was a little unsettled, I’d grown accustomed to the dreams and I treated them as my little escape, no matter whether I should have been concerned or not. I felt comfort from them and they felt like a dirty secret of mine, something I shouldn’t have been doing but it felt so nice I couldn’t stop myself. My husband spent all his nights god knows where doing god knows what with god knows who, I could allow myself this little thing.

Usually, I would sleep through the night without a problem and in the morning I’d be woken up by Minhwan coming back home and barging into the bedroom to ask for a breakfast, but that night for some reason I was shaken out of my sleep somewhere in the dark hours of the early morning. There was some noise outside, something that sounded like a wolf howl, and it was so close I was almost afraid to check the yard in case there was a wild animal there, but I had to go see whether the rabbits and chickens we were keeping were peaceful, just to be sure.

I moved to get out of the bed, but found an arm around my waist pinning me to another body and keeping me in place. My first instinct was to panic, but quickly that was overridden by utter bottomless embarrassment. What if Minhwan has been returning home earlier than I thought and this whole time my mind only substituted some unknown man in the place of my husband as I was falling asleep? Had I been embarrassing myself in front of him the whole time, dreaming about such immoral things and imagining a stranger’s embrace? But he had never touched me like this, and even when we shared a bed at the beginning of our marriage, he never showed the habit of hugging something while sleeping. He always kept himself to his side and never touched me unless completely necessary, even during marital activities. I couldn’t imagine him slipping quietly into bed in the middle of the night and embracing me so tenderly.

Complicated emotions flooded me, not knowing what to make of this, but in a moment of weakness I fooled myself into thinking this could maybe be a beginning of a better marriage. That was shattered the moment I reached back to gently pat at his thigh to wake him up to go check on the animals. There was some shuffling, the arm tightened around my mid and suddenly I could feel him nosing at the crook of my neck, laying a single long wet kiss there. I froze and flushed, completely flustered and even more confused by the situation. Then he chuckled and ice cold flooded my veins. I felt myself freeze in place, terror keeping me so still I barely even breathed. That wasn’t my husband’s voice. It was deep and velvety, rich like the dark chocolate I’d once gotten the chance to try in the city, completely different from Minhwan’s quiet rough commands.

Fear was making it hard to think, but I knew he realised I was awake based on how stiff I’d gotten, I could hear him quietly breathing and waiting for my reaction. There was certain amusement to him, I didn’t know how I felt it, but somehow I just did, something about him gave off excited anticipation and I imagined a sly smirk stretching his lips as he laid there. Then suddenly as if everything caught up to me, I felt my body jumping into motion, tearing his arm away and flying out of the bed. I grabbed the first thing I could see, which were my shoes, and turned around to try my best in defending myself against this stranger that’s apparently been sneaking into my bed deep into the night.

But the moment my eyes fell on the bed, it was empty. No sign of anyone being there. Frightened out of my mind, I searched the room with my eyes, but it was mostly bare and there wasn’t a place that could hide a man. I knew he was bigger than me, I’d felt him behind me and I was sure he couldn’t have been hiding in the sorry state my bedroom was.

For a moment I just stood there and processed before my knees gave up on me and I slid down to the floor, shoes still tightly clutched in my hands, heart beating out of my chest. I wasn’t going insane. My mind wasn’t playing tricks on me. There was something not human in my bed.

Needless to say, I spent the rest of the night sitting on the bed leaning on the wall and watching the room. My eyes frantically jumped to any movement, even the tiniest flickers of shadows would make my hands twitch, fingers tightening around my slippers, ready to jump out and fight for my life. But nothing happened. The only sounds I could hear were coming from the wind tearing into the walls of the house and messing with the trees and branches outside, and at some point the room was so still I almost felt as if I fell through the cracks into a painting and was now stuck inside.

Thus I had hours to sit there and stew in my fear and humiliation. Whatever the being was, it must have had nefarious intentions, why else would he sneak in like that and make my dreams turn to such depravity? And here I was, fooling myself into thinking it was okay to feel such cravings and giving into them, anticipating them and with bated breath hoping maybe the next night the dream lover will finally cave and touch me in a way I’d barely ever felt in my life. Instead I almost gave myself over to a demon, let him have my body and feed off of my energy, damn my soul and prove that I truly was cursed.

I also had a lot of time to think of my next steps. But what could I really do? I could never tell Minhwan and ask for his help, he’d chase me out as an impure woman. Once I’d tell him the nature of the encounters,  he’d accuse me of adultery and use it as an opportunity to get rid of me. If I was returned to my father in such a manner, death would be more welcoming than facing his rage and humiliating the family. Telling him would do more harm than good.

I could buy myself talismans and hide them around the house, but there were many, each of them used for a different ailment. I’d have to visit the village shaman and pay her to exorcise me and our home. I’d have to explain to her the troubles I’ve been having so she could paint me appropriate protective talismans. It was obvious that the being must have been a demon of lust and once I admitted that, the delicious  gossip would no doubt spread and I would be as good as dead.

No, I couldn’t tell anyone what was happening. I had to chase him out myself, no matter what it took. Come morning, I was completely exhausted but determined to deal with the situation myself.

When Minhwan barged into the house, pale in complexion and with dark bags under his eyes, I was already preparing the breakfast on the small table, looking similarly dead on my feet. The man’s eyes flitted over me, but he didn’t seem to take notice od my state and only grunted, pleased at not having to wait for food or scream for me to leave the bed.

I was so lost in my thoughts I didn’t even notice when he left for the yard, didn’t even have time to process the usual air of coldness and disinterest he brought with him, as I was too preoccupied thinking of the unwelcome guest. The little tricks with misplacing things must have also been him. I felt rage lick at the edge of my mind, suddenly making itself known in such an intensity I surprised myself. I’d fully start to believe I was no longer capable of feeling such strong emotions, but here I was. Thinking of million ways to get back at someone who’s been making a fool of me for his own entertainment for the past weeks.

The next few days were suspiciously uneventful. No more visits, no more “dreams”, even all my tools stayed suspiciously still and didn’t suddenly appear at places they weren’t supposed to be, but I wasn’t a fool. I knew he wouldn’t give up so easily, not to mention I still couldn’t get rid of the feeling of being watched or messed with.

And slowly he had begun giving me subtle hints he was still as present as ever. The books that were put in order, the robe that was waiting for me on by the partition one evening, water refilled in a cup I knew I’d finished. He suddenly switched to being helpful instead of messing with me, but I knew it was all just entertainment to him.

One of the bigger ones was some days later in the evening. I’d taken to walking around the veranda checking on the yard and the forest outside of the yard walls. As usual, there were footsteps in the snow, my husband left them there every night when he left, but that evening there was something different about them. I frowned, trying to discern what about them caught my attention. I leaned over the railing to inspect them closer with a sense of foreboding looming over my head like a silent monument. The moment I realised what it was I gasped and dread and anticipation filled me. The footsteps, they didn’t lead from the house. They led towards the main entrance.

This must be it, I thought to myself. This must be the night.

When I walked back inside, I lingered around each room a little, watching the surroundings like a hawk and expecting him to jump out at me from every corner and every shadow. But the house was still and silent, not even any sounds from outside creeping in. I slowly walked towards the bedroom and found it empty and in the same state as I’d left it. I made it through my little nightly ritual without a hitch, but anxious and expecting something to happen any moment. It didn’t. Lying down in bed, I continued sharply watching the room, but to no avail. Even though I could basically taste the anticipation in the still air of the room, and knew the demon was most definitely watching me back, he didn’t make any move. I fell asleep suddenly, without realising I was even teetering on the edge and when I woke up, I wasn’t sure whether the fingers I felt gently carding through my hair just as I succumbed to sleep were my imagination or not.

He didn’t return abruptly, instead he slowly built it up, as if testing how far I’d let this go. Sometimes he would hand me things when cooking or I would be looking for something only to find it gingerly sitting on the table a few hours later, as if suddenly becoming helpful would make me more accepting of whatever his end goal was and I would let him return like nothing happened.

The problem began when he started leaving flowers for me. The gentle quivering of my heart when I saw a beautiful little flower in bloom laying by my bedside was alarming to me, and I didn’t want such a confusing feeling to enter my life. But I couldn’t help myself.

Without thinking I picked it up and brought it to my nose. It smelled sweetly, almost too ripe, the scent permeating the air and everything around it, making me slightly dizzy. I couldn’t remember when was the last time I received a flower like this, maybe when my little brother was still a child and brought it for me from playing in the fields. Our father scolded him then, for running around with other boys instead of studying, but after that whenever either of us saw the little white blossom, we would giggle at each other, sharing smiles like tiny secrets.

I was startled by a tear sliding down my cheek at the memory, the sudden reminiscing of my family, of the one person I was truly close to before he joined the military and went to Hanyang. He was to be married soon too, already at that age when the promises turn to actions and I couldn’t wait for the spring to come so I could travel for his wedding. I’d met the girl before, she was a shy quiet daughter of a smaller aristocratic family who just recently got their title for their merits. I quite liked her, even if I didn’t get much time with her before leaving.

He was the one person in our family who had a chance of a happy marriage, I hoped he would. No matter what our father tried to create out of him, he was a sensitive boy, full of mischief and laughs. I so desperately wanted his life to turn out better than mine did. Or that his marriage wouldn’t end up like our eldest brother’s did. He had married first, when we still scrounged for money, I remembered going to his wedding as a young maiden and being swept away in the celebrations, wishing for my own wedding with red blushing cheeks as young girls did. His wife was a practical woman, strong and resolute, but kind. They never had much affections between them, but they had an understanding and their marriage functioned well. I believed my brother respected her as a husband should his wife, but I was wrong.

After our title was restored, our father started pushing my brother to divorce her so he could marry a lady from an aristocratic family, but he couldn’t do that. She had given him children and wasn’t causing him any troubles, so a divorce wouldn’t be allowed. So my brother did the next best thing. He married a woman of a high standing and made her his main wife, pushing the first wife into a secondary position in the family and robbing her children of their inheritance of the title. Since then she became quiet and withdrawn, no longer she was allowed to make any decisions and lived only to serve a man that didn’t even look her way anymore, couldn’t even explain to his firstborn son that he no longer would inherit his estate and left her to pick up the ashes and survive such disgrace.

It was terrifying when it happened. While she never showed much gentleness, she always smiled at the children and sometimes would sneak me sweets like I was one of her own, even when I was the second oldest child of the family. My heart bled for her, and I started to fear my own marriage, knowing I would never get any aristocrat’s respect due to our family history. At that time, I had no idea that what would happen to me would be even worse.

I was startled by a sudden touch on my cheek, a finger wiping away the few stray tears falling down while I sat on the ground and stared at the pretty flower. I gasped and tried to flinch away, but another arm snaked around my waist and I could feel his head leaning on my shoulder. He sat behind me once again, like always, holding me as if he didn’t want me to see him.

“Shhhhhh…,” came his deep honeyed voice, whispering in such a gentle way that I could feel a wave of goosebumps hitting me, “I didn’t know it would make you cry.” Against my better judgment, I could feel my body relaxing into his embrace and a few more tears slipping out. He rocked us from side to side, trying to console me, but it was like my dams broke and soon I was sobbing in his arms, pushing my face into his shoulder and clutching the single blossom in my shaky hands.

I couldn’t say when the last time I was held so tenderly by someone was, but it must have been when I was a child still, begging for my mother’s touch any time something happened. I was warm, wrapped into him, and soft. There was a hand in my hair, carding through the locks and caressing me like a lover would. I couldn’t stop the stream of tears and emotions and I felt ashamed and scared. I couldn’t trust him, and it hurt because no one’s ever treated me so softly, but I knew. Knew it might be just a way to get closer to me. So I decided to allow myself this just for a moment.

I let him hold me, listened to him hum some kind of a song I didn’t recognise, let him lull me into a half-asleep state until I was draped over him, boneless and numb. His hands never strayed like before and he seemed to be genuinely trying to console me. In my mind I scolded myself, believed myself pathetic for falling for such tricks and for being so desperate I would let a demon embrace me just to feel some warmth, but outwardly I didn’t let anything show. I was too drained for that.

When I quieted down and just limply hung off of his frame, he must have decided it was time to sleep. He grabbed me and carried me onto the bedding, making sure my head was pushed into his shoulder so I couldn’t look at his face. I found it strange, but had no energy to ask him anything, just letting him manoeuvre us around until we were lying just like we used to before I caught him, on our side with him behind me. Sleep came and claimed me suddenly and out of nowhere, but I found myself strangely comfortable.

When I awoke in the morning, the house was silent and the bed was empty, but I wasn’t sure how I felt about that. Would I have confronted him and demanded answers? Or did I allow myself to be vulnerable around someone that wished for my downfall and now I found myself inappropriately attached? One thing I knew for sure was that I didn’t like thinking about it, and so I got up and went about my day as if nothing had happened. I did find myself wondering what happened to the flower, as it was nowhere to be found, wondering whether it even was real or if I hallucinated it. But after that night, a fresh blossom was waiting by my bedside every evening, leaving me full of complicated confusing emotions. No sight of my demon, though.

“Do you want that?” a gruff voice by my shoulder growled and I barely stopped myself from scowling. The hairpin I had been staring at was suddenly plucked from the table by the eager merchant who understood that question as my husband’s intention to buy it for me. The older man pushed it towards me and started reciting all the reasons why such a lady like me absolutely had to have such a decoration, hoping to pitch it to a loving husband doting on his wife. Unfortunately, his guess was completely wrong.

“How much is it?” I asked towards the merchant, who seemed confused by me talking to him while Minhwan stared daggers into my back. His eyes flitted between us, awkward silence taking over for a few seconds before he stuttered out the price, looking at no one in particular. I went to fish out the amount from my purse, but my hand was stopped by another much bigger and rougher one.

“You don’t need it,” Minhwan said resolutely, voice leaving no space for discussion, “Don’t waste money on useless things.” I gritted my teeth, minutely losing control of my expression as rage swept through me at his statement, but as soon as I saw my husband’s eyes narrow in warning, I schooled myself and pulled from the stall.

“Of course,” I answered with false demureness, shooting the merchant an apologetic smile before ducking my head down and following after Minhwan through the market like the picture of the perfect wife. We walked around for some time, from stall to stall, haggling for vegetables and tools, whatever was needed around the house. Minhwan didn’t like it when I spoke to the vendors, he had me trailing behind him with a veil on or my head demurely ducked down like an obedient wife, and I was to speak only when he asked me something. Thus I spent most of the time in the market saying only “yes, we need it” or “no, I think we still have enough”. I hated it, but there was nothing that could be done.

The ride back to the house was also incredibly tense. I could still feel my husband’s rage at my earlier behaviour and knew that the moment we walk back through the gates of our farm, he’ll have some things to say. So I sighed and waited for the endless journey to finally reach its final destination.

To my shock and unease, nothing came when we walked back into the house, supplies in hands and struggling to pull the baskets through the door. Silence was all that greeted me. Minhwan helped me pull things into the kitchen and then with one last burning hateful stare he walked across the house. I watched him rummage through a chest, pulling out his only other jungchimak he usually wore when outing with his friends. It was the better one, in deep indigo colour, that made him look like a young affluent yangban. I snickered behind my hand and pretended to sort through the different bags and baskets we brought back.

When Minhwan was done changing, he charged out of the door without even a second glance. I looked out of the kitchen door facing into the yard and watched him until the gate slammed shut behind him, then I returned to the task at hand with a sigh. He didn’t do this often, but sometimes when I would make him angry, he just left. Without a word. He likely wouldn’t return until late noon tomorrow morning.

I’d long since given up on trying to stop him when the sun was still high up in the sky, he would still leave, just significantly angrier, which would result in him throwing out more money, so it was better to not get in his way when he wanted to drink, smoke and fuck his frustration away god knows where with the other young men.

I busied myself cleaning around the house and caring for the animals, finishing the work he had left. I found myself gritting my teeth in anger and annoyance as I chopped the firewood, wildly swinging the axe around and taking it out on the logs. When the time to go to sleep came, I was drained, both emotionally and physically, too strung out and tensed to even enjoy my nighttime routine like I usually did.

When I turned to the bed, a single hairpin was lying on the bedding. A beautiful, red, lacquered hairpin with a carving of a flower and a single red gem in the centre. The one I’d been looking at while we were in the town and almost bought to spite Minhwan. A mix of emotions overtook me, the most prominent one being sudden anger. My heart stuttered under the weight of it, the frustration of the day and the past weeks bursting through me in one big eruption.

Our uninvited guest was keeping himself surprisingly scarce after that night I had cried, but kept bringing me flowers. I accepted them with complicated feelings, but I had convinced myself into believing that since they’re already here, since they already have been plucked, it would be cruel of me to not accept them. So, night after night I tucked them away so Minhwan could never find them. I didn’t even know where the demon was getting them, since we were in the middle of a tough winter, but after all, I should care for them all the more, right?

But the hairpin was a step too far. I did not need to be reminded of my shameful behaviour and of the fact that my husband felt it appropriate to blow all his money away but couldn’t spare a single silver to let me buy a hairpin, and definitely not in such a way.

“Okay, come out,” I spoke loudly into the empty room, “We need to talk. This can’t keep happening.” I looked around, but everything stayed silent and still. Then, a soft voice rang out.

“Close your eyes.”

I stood up and crossed my arms defensively, spinning around to try and catch a glimpse of the being.

“Why?” I asked gruffly, speaking to an empty bedroom like a lunatic, “Why do you not want me to see you?”

“I can’t let you see me until you truly want to,” the answer came, the voice just as melodic and soft as it was before, as it was always, and I involuntarily shuddered.

“I do want to see you, right now,” I replied, ticked off. He just wanted to have the upper hand and not face me head on, I was sure of that. There was silence again, seemingly even the wind outside the door quieting down to listen to us, the room unnaturally still.

“You want to scold me,” he answered petulantly after a moment, sounding more like a child. I could hear the pout on his lips, the childlike upset of doing something wrong and not understanding why. My resolve softened a little, but I pulled myself together, determined not to let the demon play me like that. I couldn’t keep letting him get away with everything.

“So you know,” I stated, the anger seeping back into my voice, “You cannot keep doing this.”

“Doing what?” I could hear genuine curiosity in his question, one that filled me with exasperation.

I gestured to the hairpin wildly. “This!” I exclaimed loudly, “The leaving of gifts, the creeping around, nothing of it. Leave while I’m still asking nicely.” Even as the words left my mouth, they felt like an empty threat. What could I possibly do against him? I’d let him go this far, what could I do to stop him now? But he completely ignored the second part and focused solely on the gifts.

“Do you not like them?” there was slight dejection present in his voice, like he didn’t understand why it was such a problem, “I thought you did. You never threw them out.” I cursed my soft heart. I should have never let him get away with bringing me flowers, I shouldn’t have let him get to me like that. I should have been resolute and told him to leave right then, not let him coddle me and embrace me when I felt sad.

I hesitated for a moment, not knowing how to answer. I found myself not wanting to upset him by saying no, falling victim to his sweet demeanour. Again. I groaned with frustration and hit my forehead with my palm.

“It’s not that I don’t like them,” I started a little softer than before, “It’s just embarrassing.”

“Why?” I groaned again. Good lord, this was going to take a while.

“Because…” I stuttered for a moment, the vulnerability of words on my tongue shocking me, “It feels humiliating. My own husband wouldn’t buy it for me and it feels like an insult for a demon to do that.” There was a beat of silence, in which I almost managed to persuade myself that there was never anyone there and I had been talking to myself the whole time, but then he spoke again.

“I didn’t mean to humiliate you,” his voice was quiet, contemplative, “I wanted to make you happy.” That shocked me enough to have me stutter over a few breaths, wildly looking around the room with wide eyes. “W-why?” I managed to squeak out, flabbergasted at such admission.

“It felt like you needed it,” came his simple reply, as if talking about the weather. That statement drained the whole fight out of me, leaving me standing there unsure and confused, filled with shame and wonder at the simplicity of it all.

“What?” I whispered, not really looking for an answer, just voicing out my inner turmoil.

“It felt like you needed it,” he replied a little louder, “You were always so sad. I didn’t like it. You shouldn’t be so sad.” It was such a simple statement and yet it pulled down the walls of my heart and made it flutter. I chided myself for being so easy to fool with a few sweet words, but I couldn’t stop the lightness taking over my heart, the relief bleeding into my every pore.

Someone saw my suffering, I thought to myself. Someone noticed my pain.

“What are you?” I whispered the question into the empty house, but no man stepped out into the light, no shadow moved. He was silent for a moment and then said: “Close your eyes.” And this time I did.

The moment my lids fluttered closed, I could hear slight shuffling of clothing behind me and light footsteps. On instinct I went to turn around, but a hand suddenly tightly covered my eyes, startling me slightly. I jumped a little, pushing myself back straight into his chest, which embarrassingly enough was a position I’d gotten used to over the past weeks. Then a silken ribbon touched my cheek and the hand moved quickly to tie it over my eyes.

“So you don’t try to cut this meeting short,” he explained lightly, voice full of amusement.

“But I do want to see you, is it not enough that I no longer wish to scold you?” I asked, confused by the strange rules.

“You need to desire to see me, truly, with your soul,” he said lowly, voice deepening into the honeyed register I was used to hearing from him and I shuddered lightly, feeling the words trickle down my skin and bite into my very being.

“S-so I can only see you when I want t-to-“ I couldn’t bring myself to finish that thought, the sinful image burning into my brain making me stutter and blush so fiercely I felt as if I burst into flames. I ducked my head, but his chuckle followed me, melting over me. There was no longer any amusement in his voice, now there was something darker and heavier, threatening to consume me from the inside out.

“Smart girl,” he whispered and I couldn’t help the wave of goosebumps that hit my skin when I felt his breath on my ear and neck. The sudden turn from his earlier more innocent voice and words left me confused and flabbergasted, blushing at his newfound confidence. I felt him lean closer into me, nose almost touching the crook of my neck, only to whisper: “Time to sleep.”

Before I could react, he swooped me into his arms and I yelped in surprise, before hiding my face in my hands in embarrassment. He carried me to the bed and very gently laid me there, his hands smoothing down my nightgown and pulling the blanket over us. My face burned, but I stayed silent and let him happily chirp behind me as he pulled me closer to his chest and made himself comfortable.

It felt like years before I fell asleep. I just laid there, feeling his chest move and his breathing deepen until I was sure he was sleeping, but even then I didn’t reach back to untie the ribbon. I wanted to believe him. I wanted to trust his words. That’s how I finally got pulled under, with my heart trembling with careful hope.

Come morning, something new happened. When I woke up, his strong arms were still wrapped around me and as soon as I started wiggling in his grip, he woke up with a content groan and a big stretch, like a cat. I blushed again, which seemed to become more of a permanent thing in his presence. I went to call out to him to scold him, when I realised something. I didn’t know his name. I haven’t asked him for his name all this time.

“Good morning,” came his morning raspy voice, then he burrowed his face somewhere deeper into the bedding and my hair. The ribbon slipped during the night and with my movement it unravelled onto the pillow, making me freeze slightly. I reached for it, playing with it between my fingers a little, before I spoke to him too.

Good morning...” I trailed off uncertainly, not sure how to ask him his name, “d-demon?” I flushed in embarrassment. Truly perfect, why not just call him a pervert if I was going to be like that? Behind me, the man chuckled and wriggled a little, presumably to make himself more comfortable. I couldn’t believe I let myself lie with a man like that, but it was better to just not think about it.

“Taehyung would be a bit better, but I’ll take it,” he replied nonchalantly, but then suddenly stiffened. Before I could truly register his alarm, the entrance door slammed open and heavy footsteps made their way into the house. I panicked and flew out of the bed, but when I turned to warn Taehyung, I was met with an empty bed. The other half was even made as if nobody slept there.

Seconds later, the doors to the bedroom slid open and my disgruntled husband peeked in. His hair was a mess, his face taunt and white, bloodshot eyes adorned with dark circles underneath. He looked like death itself, the exhaustion seeping out of him in waves, but he still managed to scowl when he laid eyes on me still in my nightgown. I wondered what time it was, but concentrated on schooling my expression and not showing my flustered state, my heart still beating wildly in my chest. He regarded me with slight suspicion in his eyes, but ultimately decided not to comment on it.

“Make me a breakfast,” was all he said and then he disappeared into the house. I glanced at my little vanity sitting in a corner of the room and noticed the hairpin sitting gingerly right in the middle of it. I swiped it away quickly putting it with the flowers, and started getting ready for the day. But the thoughts of Taehyung and his words and behaviour wouldn’t leave me for the rest of the day, plaguing me when I was making breakfast, when I was cleaning up the melted snow Minhwan carried into the house on his shoes and clothes, and embarrassingly enough even when I went to wash up that evening, wondering whether he could see me now too.

The peak of the winter came and went, but the layer of snow stayed thick, blanketed over the world and painting it pure white. I had found myself much fonder of the quietness it brought, how it swallowed all sounds and created a bubble of calm over everything, especially when my husband was gone from the house, which has become more and more frequent. Lately he left earlier and came back later, turning more and more pale with every morning. He didn’t speak to me about what he did, he barely ever spoke at all, but the tension in his shoulders and the troubled angry expression that has made itself home on his face told me that he must have gotten himself into some big trouble. I found myself just as anxious, waiting for him to tell me we would be losing it all because he made a bet or let himself be swindled.

Taehyung, during that time, worked hard on trying to distract me, bringing me little gifts and messing about the house trying to help me. Anytime I would come across clothes that have been rearranged or things that have been cleaned up, but put into the wrong places, I would sigh and jokingly glare around the room, but I couldn’t stop the fluttering of my heart and the fondness that spread through me at hearing his disembodied giggles.

During these evenings he took to covering my mirror, sitting behind me and brushing my hair for me. We would spend this time in comfortable silence, resting against each other and enjoying the simple companionship. It was such an intimate act, like we were lovers taking care of each other, like husband and wife who love each other, I would find myself flustered and blushing, feeling like it was my wedding night all over again. It was such a strong contrast to how tensed and hostile the silence was when my husband was around, that I often shamefully dreamed and pretended that Taehyung was my spouse, that this was a part of our life and our routine. He would caress my hair, my sides, press soft kisses to my shoulders, play with my hands and my fingers, and when we retired for the night, he hugged me tightly, pressing himself into me and making me feel safe and secure.

The longer this went on, the more torn with fervent longing I was, wishing this was my life and not just pity that a passing demon took on me. I was choked up with emotions, the words “stay”, “show yourself to me”, “love me” always on the tip of my tongue, fighting to spill, chest heavy and full like I was about to burst. It hurt. I hurt. I wanted a life I couldn’t have; I wanted a man that would take my soul and leave once he’d gotten what he came for, and I hated myself for it and I hated my life.

Taehyung felt this in me, felt this shift from happiness back into tortured silence, I could feel it in his touch, in how gently his hands and fingers regarded me, how reverent his lips were on the skin of my shoulders and neck, I felt it in his voice whispering praise to me. The desperation to make it all better, the frantic beating of his heart against my back because he feared he did something to upset me. No matter how much I wanted to ease him, the words would just not leave my mouth.

And my body, it betrayed me. It lit up with every touch, heat pumping through my veins with every brush of his lips, I could feel it swirling in my lower belly and oftentimes found myself hoping for his daring hands to explore as they had been doing back then before I caught him. But Taehyung stubbornly never strayed from the safe spots, never returned to his previous antics.

One night when he didn’t show up, I had a lot of time to think about where this was going and how I was dangerously teetering on the edge of improperness. When I sat alone by the bed and worried for him, called out to him and then promptly spiralled into believing he had grown tired of me, the feelings of pain and despair it filled me with shocked me. I missed him. I missed his touch, his presence, his voice. I didn’t want him to leave me. I’d grown attached to him, to a shadow that spoke to me and treated me with gentleness and kindness.

I wanted to see him. I looked at the ribbon lying on my vanity, the one he used every night to cover my eyes so I couldn’t swindle him and peek when he wasn’t paying attention. I wanted it gone.

I wanted. I longed. I needed.

Falling asleep that night was a challenge, I couldn’t find a comfortable position when I suddenly laid alone once again, too used to a warm comforting body behind me. And when tiredness finally overcame me, he visited me in my dreams, his bold hands exploring places that haven’t been tenderly touched before; drawing out sighs out of me, body trembling with unknown pleasure as his fingers dipped between my legs and leisurely moved in little circles over the bundle of nerves. My dream self was moaning and writhing in his arms, begging for him to never stop as the pleasure mounted until it burst out in a bolt of pure ecstasy. I jolted awake, breathing heavily and still shaking from the intense sensations. Startled I realised there was wetness coating my intimate parts and the top of my thighs, the sticky feeling making me blush in embarrassment. My whole body seemed to be tingling from this experience and I couldn’t calm myself down.

“Taehyung?” I called out carefully, checking that he wasn’t around to witness this. When no answer came and the man himself didn’t come out and shown himself, I quickly ran to the vanity to grab the first cloth I found and cleaned myself. My shaky hands couldn’t hold onto anything properly and I couldn’t get my breathing back under control, the experience leaving me full of confusing feelings, longing filled with arousal mixing with shame until I my head was spinning and my chest hurt. After that, I didn’t fall asleep again, instead I sat on the bed and tried to make sense of my own heart.

The only thing that saved me from getting suspicious stares from my husband was that he himself barely looked at me. But it felt different from his usual coldness, he looked haunted and worried, too preoccupied with his own thoughts to even realise anyone else was present. It made me anxious. Whatever he’d gotten himself into, it seemed bad and if it came to it, he’d drag me down with him. For the first time in so long I found myself wishing he’d just talk to me, tell me what was happening so I could stop drowning myself in worry. But I knew that if I had come to him and asked him, he would get angry. So I waited for my life to end with bated breath.

Taehyung returned after two days and acted as if he was never gone, as if he didn’t suddenly disappear without a word and left me spinning, thinking he’d never return. When I heard his voice ring out it the empty house for the first time in so long, I couldn’t stop the tears of relief and he spent the whole evening and night holding me and consoling me, whispering into my ear how he’d never leave again.

More than ever I realised the burning desire coursing through my veins whenever he touched me. I wanted him, like wife should want a husband, and it was getting harder to ignore the way my body responded to him. I wasn’t sure if Taehyung was aware of my plight, if he registered how I seemed to stiffen anytime he pushed me closer to himself, how I held my breath when his arms snaked around my waist, how I shuddered when his hands slipped through my hair when he tied the ribbon over my eyes. I didn’t know if he noticed, but if he did, he didn’t say or do anything. Sometimes he would get closer to me, nose at my neck or play with my ear and then he would suddenly stop, as if he remembered himself, and pull away. And I wanted to scream at him. To not go. To do more.

And the more the situation went south in my marriage, the more I realised that my heart has long since been stolen by a being I haven’t even seen, but whose actions spoke louder than thousand words.

And so I decided to take the situation into my own hands. Or, well, to put it into Taehyung’s hands.

Some nights I would dream about him, even when he laid behind me I just wouldn’t have enough. And in those dreams, he would do the things I desired from him. It felt like my dirty little secret, enjoying him in such way in the privacy of my own mind, but knowing he was there. That he could be witnessing me be improper, could be witnessing my needs resurfacing in this manner. He never showed it, but sometimes I wondered if he knew, if he was waiting to make a move. And it excited me even more. The tension kept thickening, and I boiled, I boiled until one day I just… burst.

I had woken up in the middle of the night, woken up by my own dream as usual, hot and breathless, but just short of release, pent up and frustrated and needy. Taehyung behind me stirred, but his breathing stayed deep and stable, arms minutely tightening before he relaxed again. I felt my wetness seeping down my thighs, squeezing them together on instinct to chase the pulsing and throbbing there, choking out a little whimper and squirming in my place.

That seemed to shake Taehyung out of his sleep, I could hear the shuffling of his clothes, his hand flexing on my belly. He raised his head and murmured something, but I couldn’t hear through the rushing of blood in my ears. I was so aroused my head was almost spinning, my mind zeroing only on getting back to the pleasure I had been feeling. I squirmed in his arms again and whined.

“What’s going on? What’s happening?” came his quiet raspy voice by my ear and I could feel goosebumps breaking out over my arms. Without saying anything I reached for one of his hands and pulled it lower, until it laid over my thigh. There was silence behind me and neither of us moved for a moment.

“What?” he whispered again, confusion lacing his voice as he started caressing my thigh, thinking I just needed comfort, “Did you have a nightmare?” I shook my head, frustrated at myself for not being able to get the words out of my mouth, so instead I grabbed his hand again and this time I gently laid it over the very top of my thighs, the tips of his fingers just grazing my intimate area. Taehyung froze for a moment, and I held my breath, fearing his reaction.

But then he released a long breath and his hand moved, grabbing onto my nightgown and slowly pulling it up over my legs. “Are you being naughty?” he asked me playfully and I trembled with anticipation, the searing heat seemingly reaching a crescendo with the promise of his touch. The moment I felt him gently caressing up the naked skin of my thigh, I whimpered again and immediately lifted my leg to grant him access to where I wanted him the most.

Behind me, there was a chuckle, so deep and rumbly I felt it in my bones, satisfied and overjoyed with my eagerness. Taehyung nosed up my shoulder, until I could feel him laying searing wet kisses into the crook of my neck. His hand suddenly shot up back to my knee, grabbing it so he could hook it over his legs and keep me spread. I blushed, but another gush of wetness seeped onto the skin of my thighs at the prospect this finally happening.

“Want to have your pretty little cunt played with, hmm?” Taehyung whispered into my hair, the smirk evident in the smugness of his voice. This was his element, and I ducked my head into my arms, embarrassed by the words and the actions, embarrassed by my body screaming for him. He didn’t seem to need an answer, pleased with my shyness and with how my body responded for me, arching into his touch and begging for more. So he indulged, both himself and me.

His fingers descended between my legs suddenly, shocking a moan out of me as they glided through the wet folds until they settled over the little bundle of nerves. He touched me teasingly, circling it lightly, tapping and pressing on it and then sliding his fingers down to play with my entrance, as if testing how much I would be able to take.

I trembled whole, overflowing with relief, pleasure and burning need for more, spilling out of me on sighs and whimpers. I lost the control of my body as it swayed and arched, pushing into his elusive playful fingers. When my whines took on a more desperate tone, Taehyung finally seemed to be satisfied enough to stop teasing. He started playing me masterfully, fingers drawing tight quick circles on my clit, making me choke on my spit, brain not comprehending the sudden onslaught of sensations.

I found myself hurling towards that edge of ecstasy quicker than I’ve experienced before, my whole body singing under his touch, thrumming with the fulfilment of all the desires that had been piling up over the past weeks.

“Let go whenever you need to, don’t be afraid,” Taehyung whispered to me, voice low and aroused, and I arched with a silent scream as the release overtook me, bursting through my body in a single white flash. Taehyung carried me through it, fingers slowing down but never stopping, little quiet groans leaving him at seeing me blissed out. When the pleasure ebbed away gradually, I pushed his hand away with a quiet whine, feeling too much all at once.

He led me down from the high gently, hands running over my body, over my sides, his voice murmuring loving words into my ear, telling me how lovely I was, how well I did for him. I soaked it all up, preened under his care and attention and loved every moment of it, the fear and insecurity about his intentions taking the backseat for a few calming moments. My body thrummed with the after-shocks of my climax, and I pleasantly floated on the feelings of relief and release.

I was still catching up to my brain, when the words “I want to see you” tumbled out of my mouth. Taehyung’s hand stopped for a moment and then grabbed onto my arm gently. He hummed, non-committally, fingers suddenly teasing again as he lightly dragged them on my arm up and down.

“Do you really?” he whispered sensually, almost purring, and I gasped at the sensation. Before I could reply, he was suddenly gone. I heard him moving around in the room, the sound of his steps, his stable breathing and the light clanking of items as he moved them. I had no idea what he was doing, but when he was satisfied, he returned to me. Taehyung leaned down to me and grasped my arm, pulling me up to stand.

“Get on your feet, darling,” he told me sweetly, the sudden nickname making me blush as if we weren’t just wrapped in each other in such sinful ways. I stood, knees still a little shaky, but managed to hold my weight. I was a little achy, but it was a pleasant and boneless feeling, as if everything had been drained away and all that was left were soft sweet clouds.

Taehyung’s hands left me, and I could hear him stepping away, his heels hitting the wooden floor heavily. I held my breath in anticipation, my hands trembling, my body still confused from the screaming pleasure it was put through just moments ago.

Then, he spoke.

“You can pull the ribbon down.” His voice was smooth, kind and happy. My arms moved as if they had a mind of their own, lifting up to my head to grasp at the ends of the ribbon to pull. When it fell away, at first I was left blinded by the light for a moment. I blinked; eyes hurt from getting flashed with white after so long in the dark. I hurriedly wiped away the few stray tears and gently pressed on my eyelids to alleviate the pressure. When I opened them again, he stood in front of me.

He was beautiful, absolutely breathtaking. I gasped as I took him in, the softness of him.

He had long black hair, half done up into a bun at the back of his head. He was dressed in a black cheollik with red hems and pulled together by a silk red string adorned with dark grey jade, and his underclothes were also in black. He was barefoot, standing on my cold wooden bedroom floor like he didn’t feel the chill at all, when I already started shivering in my thin night robes. My eyes shot back to his face. He was ethereally pretty, all sharp edges but still looking so soft and lovely it stole my breath away. Even though his eyes were shockingly blue, I could see the kindness in them, unlike his mouth that was pulled into a mischievous smirk. Just I as I imagined he so often had.

I could see he started nervously fiddling with his sleeves, face flashing with panic and unsureness. He stepped from foot to foot, looking at the ground bashfully, before looking back up at me with wide round eyes full of pure-hearted earnestness.

“What do you think?” he asked, as if I was looking at fruit at the market. He squirmed in his place again and I couldn’t bare to let him believe that I didn’t think he was the most beautiful man I have ever seen. In a few quick strides I crossed the room to him and threw myself into his arms. He caught me, as always, and I had begun believing he always would, and pressed me closer into him. Before I could talk myself out of it, I pulled him down by his neck and pressed our lips together.

Taehyung caught on quickly, wrapping his arms around me and taking charge, kissing me like a man starved, passionate and hungry and all-consuming, filling my head and my heart with him and only him. I dreaded my husband’s return, because it would mean my little fantasy dream life would dissolve and Taehyung would have to disappear again, but for now I focused on his mouth claiming mine with such fervour it left me breathless.

Seeing Taehyung made things both easier and more difficult. Nothing much changed between us, only now I saw him messing with my things and “helping out” around the house. I heard his endless giggles and sometimes would catch a glimpse of his figure before he disappeared into a different part of the house, and I always trailed behind him and looked for whatever it was he misplaced or swapped.

I found that even though he was visible to me most of the time, he still didn’t talk much, preferring to sit by me and watch me with fond eyes. He would silently take heavy things from my hands and carry them for me, only sending a playful grin my way, or push me away from the cutting board to prepare the ingredients himself with a simple quiet “let me help”. I liked it. Taehyung filled the space with his presence, with kind eyes and gentle laughs and comfortableness I haven’t felt with anyone else. Sometimes laughs would just bubble out of my throat at his antics or at his expressions and I stopped, surprised at my own ability to laugh. I was happy. I felt content.

I loved him, and I knew that. I wanted my life to be like this from now on until the end of time. More and more often I found myself thinking how married life wouldn’t be that bad if my husband was Taehyung, and I blushed at those thoughts, but couldn’t fully fight them away. I imagined him chopping the firewood in the yard (he already did that for me after he saw me with an axe one), taking care of the animals (it wasn’t unusual for him to feed the hens and the pigs after sundown, since Minhwan was already long gone around then) and then coming home to happily eat supper I worked so hard on (he loved my cooking and never failed to compliment me). I loved watching him walking around the farm as if it was him who owned it, him who married me. Him who loved me.

And during the nights… Taehyung was more than happy to dote on me, naughty hands suddenly insatiable once I showed interest, bringing me to the peak of pleasure every morning, wandering around my curves and gently squeezing and loving on every inch he could reach. I melted in his hands, my brain suddenly interested only in how to get him to please me again. But he never moved it further, no matter how much I gently probed, tried to touch him back or insinuated that I would like to do more, he always grasped my hands and pulled me into a tight hug until we ended up falling asleep.

I was confused. I wasn’t a virgin. I knew how it worked between men and women and I trusted him with my body and my pleasure, and I wanted to return it too, learn how to please him too, but he didn’t seem to want that to happen. He would always give me this unsure smile and then hold me all the tighter and I didn’t want to push him.

But while I found my domestic bliss in Taehyung’s presence, it was harshly brought down every time my husband returned home. Even though he’d become strangely withdrawn, he always seemed to fill the house with gloom and uncomfortable tension, choking every spare inch in despair. I was dancing on eggshells around him, trying my hardest not to draw his attention lest he redirects his ire to me.

This explosiveness was also new. He’d been angry at me before, but never like this, never with bloodshot eyes and shaking hands, spewing poison until I was trembling with fear and shame, and then walking out. He would scream at me for the food not being warm, about spilling something on the floor, about not cleaning proficiently enough, and I begun to dread his returns, because he would always smell of alcohol, opium and other vices, and immediately find something to vent on, only to become silent and absent the moment after.

I could see on Taehyung he was worried for me. I wasn’t a fool, I knew he was present and heard everything, I could feel it in his sad tender eyes, in his loving caresses and the little gifts he would leave me. I wanted to assure him that everything was okay, that this was just my life and I had to deal with that, that him being around the house was already making a dreadful reality all the more bearable, but sometimes he just zoned out and I saw the cogs turning in his head, trying to come up with a way to somehow deal with this. But there was nothing that could be done.

While Minhwan spiralled and came home looking worse and worse every day, Taehyung tried his best to raise me up and make me feel better. And I couldn’t be more grateful for that.

One afternoon we were enjoying a particular sunny day, the door to the kitchen cracked open to let in the crisp freezing air, but I couldn’t feel the chill, not with Taehyung plastered to my back. He hung off of me, hugging me and whining playfully, his hands ever so often straying to my thighs or breasts, trying to rile me up while I made broth. I would always slap them away, but I couldn’t hide the blush on my cheeks or the way my body started responding to him and demanding his attention lower.

I was playing with the idea of letting him pleasure me right in the kitchen in the middle of the day, when Taehyung behind me stiffened, arms tightening around me. At first I didn’t register it, but when the sound of snow crunching under someone’s shoes reached my ears, I panicked. Throwing the wooden spoon away I turned and pushed Taehyung away from me.

“Quick, disappear! Minhwan must have returned!” I whispered urgently, almost sobbing with frustration when the dark-haired man just continued standing there as we both listened to the footsteps getting closer. He was looking out the door, his face curious but impassive, as if he didn’t realise the impending doom.

“Taehyung!” I cried out desperately, pushing him away just as the doors slammed opened. I froze and turned to the door, while Taehyung’s arm snaked around my waist and pulled me into his chest. At first I recognised the gesture as protective, but then I realised it was too casual.

I forced myself to see through the panic and registered that in the door stood a complete stranger. He regarded us both with a bored expression, his eyes sliding down my panicked frozen face and then skipping to Taehyung, sneering lightly in a pretend angry manner.

“So this is where you spend your days, I haven’t seen you in forever,” he grumbled a touch whinily and made himself comfortable on one of the seating pillows in the corner. He had elegant gestures and moved about in a graceful manner, he was also dressed in expensive clothes, showing off to everyone his status as a son of a wealthy yangban family. His face was sharp and impassive, but I could see a strange spark of something in his feline eyes.

“Hyung,” Taehyung said cutely and pulled me towards the man in expensive robes, “this is Y/N.” I stared dumbly between the two men, flabbergasted at the situation I had suddenly found myself in. Hyung? Was this another demon?

The man in question nodded towards me, showing polite interest. He looked intimidating, but whenever his eyes jumped to Taehyung, there was softness in them, and his face would suddenly relax and look more human and boyish.

“This is one of my hyungs,” Taehyung said towards me and then leaned closer until he could whisper into my ear: “He’s a tiger spirit.” I gasped lightly and looked at the man. He gave me a goofy toothy grin, his posture loosening as he made himself more comfortable. I slipped into the hostess mode and started offering drinks and food and he indulged happily, even getting Taehyung to take a glass with him. I listened to their gentle teasing for a while, content with watching him be so happy and carefree.

“So if one wants to see your face around these parts, they have to come here, huh?” said the tiger with a little smirk and winked towards me. I giggled and added: “As long as my husband isn’t home.” I immediately blushed, but the feelings of shame I used to feel over this have ebbed away and now I could only feel a little twinge of it as a phantom pain, before I put it away and focused on the men in my presence.

“Oh, I know your husband very well,” the man said, his face turning into a mysterious sharp hungry grin, “He isn’t home very often.” Taehyung tensed behind me, and I glanced at him, before throwing a confused smile at the visitor.

“What do you mean you know my husband well?” I asked, ignoring the way Taehyung’s hands tightened around me. I refused to turn his way, instead focusing my all attention at the dangerous being sat in front of us.

“He plays cards out of his league,” the man stated, eyes glinting with some feral contentment, “He lost a lot of money to a lot of people. An especially big sum to a certain very dangerous man that likes to prowl around those parlours.” It felt as if I was thrown into a freezing water, the panic seizing me at this information. I had known, to a certain extent, that he must have gotten himself into something, but losing in cards and owing money to someone dangerous, that would absolutely destroy my life alongside his. Distressed, I looked to Taehyung, who immediately pushed his hand into my hair in an attempt to comfort me.

“Hyung, stop that,” he scolded the man gently, “Stop scaring her.” I blinked at Taehyung owlishly.

“You knew?” I whispered the question, my heart aching when the dark-haired man looked away with guilt etched into his handsome face.

“I told him,” the older man piped up again, gently inserting himself back into the conversation he himself started, “I happen to have an insight into the situation. Don’t fear, dear, this is between your husband and the forces he messed with.” The vague statement did nothing to ease my anxiety and my eyes flitted between the two men again, but I chose to not say anything anymore. They shared a resolute look, full of determination, and then moved on from the topic.

Mr. Min, as I finally learnt his name, stayed for a better part of the afternoon, only departing once the night fell with only the moon lighting his way. His sharp eyes seemed to glow in the dark and once again I was reminded that he was a spirit of the mountain. I snickered gently at that. Look at me, the cursed widow dining with a demon and a tiger. If the old ladies in my home village knew that, they would lose their minds.

Taehyung wrapped his arm around my shoulders as we watched his friend go, looking at my amusement fondly, but the way his hand squeezed me I could tell he was worried about the conversation we had. I looked at him, truly looked at him, and contemplated whether to bring it up again.

He sensed it, his face turning a little guilty and sheepish again, before turning to me, grabbing both of my shoulders and saying: “Y/N, do you trust me?” Did I? Of course I did. I loved him, I loved him more than I have ever loved anyone. He never failed me, never gave me a reason not to trust him. So I nodded firmly.

“Then know that it will be taken care of,” he stated, voice gentle and kind, “I wouldn’t let this impact you.” I nodded again, looking at him fondly before caving in and seeking the warmth of his embrace. He held me tightly, then and through the night, whispering words of love. I trusted them.

I should have known that this would smudge lines, that me living my little fantasy with Taehyung and him living in the house fully visible would lead to us being careless and slipping. But still, when it happened, I was sorely unprepared for the whirlwind it started.

We depended too much on the belief that Minhwan wouldn’t return home early. He didn’t, in the past weeks. Every morning, I would watch the sun climb pretty high up on the sky before the door slammed open and he trudged in wordlessly demanding food. Taehyung spent the mornings lazily spread out in the bed, stretching like an over-sized cat, grinning at me lazily and watching me get ready for the day. And usually I would be woken up by his gentle hands or kisses, or by the sun shining through to my face, or the cold would make me turn and snuggle deeper into my lover’s arms.

So when I got woken up by a scream, I was shocked and confused to my core. I jerked up into a sitting position, eyes wide open and looking for the source of the commotion, heart beating out of my chest and throat tight. It was a cry of rage, a man’s ire bursting through the quiet comfortable space of early morning.

There was a flash of movement and then suddenly I was being painfully pulled out of the bed by my upper arm. I cried out, legs fighting to get into working order and stop the pain from the uncomfortable angle. Suddenly I was face to face with a seething Minhwan, his face red and bloated, twisted into a grimace of pure primal rage. He grabbed onto both of my shoulders, nails digging into my skin until I feared he would draw blood, shaking me violently.

He screamed something, but I was too tired and shocked to fully comprehend what has happened. Panic started pumping through my veins, my breathing getting out of my control as I choked on the instinctual fear of being met with a man in such an emotional state. He shook me again and I got dizzy. Behind me the bed was empty, but very obviously slept in.

 As if wading through a thick fog, I finally realised he must have seen Taehyung in the bed and my knees buckled. He let me fall, let me knock painfully into the wooden floor as he paced around the door. Thoughts going a mile a minute I scrambled to try and come up with something, with anything instead of just sitting there staring dumbly. I could feel tears welling up in my eyes, slipping slowly down as my mouth opened and closed. My head hurt, my chest was so tight I could barely breathe and my heart was beating so fast I feared it might just tear right out of my body. I looked at my shaking hands and released a few strained breaths.

“Are you even listening to me?!” Minhwan was suddenly screaming right into my face and I flinched. It was as if a filter lifted off of the world and the sound was suddenly getting to me fully, the thumping of his feet on the floor, his ragged breathing, his enraged mumblings. I stared at him blankly for a moment and in a split second decided to play it the only way I could.

“W-what happened?” I asked quietly, still looking at him with wide confused eyes, movements sluggish. I put a hand to my head, shaking it from side to side. At least I didn’t have to pretend I had a headache.

Minhwan stopped pacing and regarded me with suspicion. Come on, I prayed to myself, I know you must have seen him disappear in front of your eyes. He watched me for a moment, and I made sure to look as disoriented as I could, blinking blearily around and pulling a blanket closer over my rapidly cooling body. The seconds ticked away as he just looked around the room, watched the bed, the doors, as if measuring whether the man could have gotten away around him. He wasn’t saying anything for the longest time, and I felt like I was losing my mind, fearing any moment he’ll decide I was a liar and do god knows what in a fit of rage, but then he looked at me again with eyes filled with more confusion and fear than rage.

“Do you really not know?” he inquired, and his voice was grating to me, rough from speaking and drinking the whole night. I nodded slowly and then asked again: “What happened? Why were you screaming?” His face filled with determination, and he wordlessly walked out of the room. I scrambled to follow after him.

“Where are you going? What’s going on?” I hammered him, looking for a confirmation that I was safe, at least for the moment, but he just silently started fastening his hat back on. Finally, right before walking back out of the door, he turned to me and said: “I’m getting the exorcist.”

The next few hours I spent sitting in the house in panicked silence, wondering what my fate would be beyond this day. What would the shamaness say? How will this go? Do I have to pretend to get exorcised? I tried calling out to Taehyung, but he didn’t respond once. I bit my nails and paced around the house, counting every second ticking by as if waiting for execution.

By the time the door slid open again and stone-faced Minhwan stepped in, my nerves were completely frayed, and I could barely support my own weight on my shaking knees. My head snapped into the direction of the noise, and I saw a man and a woman step inside. The moment their eyes landed on me, they bowed slightly to me, but said nothing and instead followed my husband through the house into the bedroom. I hurriedly trailed after them, shaky hands with nails bitten almost bloody grasping onto my skirt to ground myself at least a little bit.

When I stepped into the room, Minhwan was gesturing to the bed, still unmade as I was too panicked to clean, and explaining what had happened.

“I walked in and saw four feet instead of two,” he said darkly, anger shining through to the surface again, “They were clearly man’s feet. I threw a shoe at him and started screaming, but then he was just gone. He disappeared into thin air. When she woke up, she was disoriented and had no idea what was going on.” I listened to him with a lump in my throat and when they all turned to look at me standing in the door, my knees almost buckled. I hoped that my nervousness would be interpreted as my unawareness, but when the woman’s eyes bore into me with a startling intensity, I couldn’t help but flinch and look down.

She came over to me and an expectant silence fell over the room, all of us collectively holding our breath and waiting for her judgement. She grabbed my chin, not roughly but definitely not gently, and moved my head so that I was looking at her. Her eyes flitted across my face, in search of something. I wasn’t sure what she was looking for, but I wondered how I must have looked to her. Did I look guilty? Did I look sick? What did she see?

She examined me for a moment and then let me go and stepped back to the man. She looked at him and nodded.

“It is a demon of sickness,” the man spoke, “He was draining your wife’s life energy, eventually saddling her with plague or similar illness. It is good you caught him before he did irreparable damage to her.” I touched my own face, wondering how bad I looked for her to come to the conclusion I was getting drained in such a way, but felt immense relief. Before I caught myself, I swayed, the feelings of anxiety crashing onto me, leaving my body too weak to stay upright. I crashed into the door and barely managed to catch myself before I hit the floor full force. The woman rushed to me and pulled me up, holding onto my arm and helping me stand in a manner she must have believed was comforting.

“Don’t worry, darling, he will not get you,” she whispered in a raspy old voice, “We will take care of this.” I mumbled something out, an insincere thanks, and propped myself up by the door. Instinctively I looked to Minhwan and found him already looking at, eyes coldly assessing me. He was scaring me, I had no idea where I stood with him and what was going through his mind, but I hoped this would buy me some time. I looked back to the floor and started smoothing out my skirts with shaky hands.

“We will get the supplies we’ll need and return tomorrow with the dawn,” the man spoke again, looking mainly to Minhwan, “For tonight, hang garlic and onion around the house. The foul smell will keep the demons away. I will draw you a talisman for your door and main gate, plaster it on the wood and keep it there until we come.” My husband curtly nodded.

The pair started moving towards the door to leave and Minhwan followed them out. I took the time to slide down to the door. I was trying to keep myself calm, but the stressed tears came anyway, rolling down my cheeks and there was nothing I could do to stop them. Once Minhwan returned, I was silently sobbing on the floor, too overwhelmed by everything that’s happened in these few hours.

Minhwan regarded me silently and then moved to the main room, sat by the fireplace and didn’t speak again. I sat there, filled with dread, and waited. Waited for the other shoe to drop, for him to fly off of his handle and do something, but the house was eerily silent. In the end I pulled myself together and moved about my day as if nothing was happening, as if Minhwan wasn’t sitting in the other room counting minutes before sun went down. The uncomfortable atmosphere stretched over us like a suffocating blanket and even though I went with the motions, cooked food and served it, I wasn’t even interested in eating, and neither seemed to be Minhwan.

With dark setting over the dwelling, the moon shining over the snow and creating a silver glow over everything, I found myself anxiously glancing at my husband to see whether he would leave, but he stayed firmly sat. I didn’t know what to do. I felt like I had to have a talk with Taehyung, confide in him and see what he thinks we should do. I desperately craved his comfort and calming presence, I needed him to hold me and kiss me and whisper about all the things he loved, I needed him to whisk me away into the woods and keep me away from this life I had found myself in.

As I paced around the bedroom nervously, I realised that. I wanted to leave with him. I wanted to flee into his reality and leave my own behind. I needed to talk to Taehyung soon.

The door slid open, and I flinched and instinctively moved a few steps further into the room. Minhwan looked at me, his eyes empty and dark, and then moved to the corner of the room, sitting down and staring soullessly at me.

“Aren’t you going to get ready for bed?” came his gruff voice when I stood there frozen for too long, watching him out of the corner of my eye. I could hear a certain accusation in it and my heart jumped into my throat. Without saying anything, I mechanically moved to my vanity and started brushing my hair while keeping an eye on my husband’s dark form slouched in the corner. His eyes never left me, slowly with every second ticking by filling with more and more pure hatred.

The room felt as if it was freezing, the air so heavy with tension I could taste it on my tongue. I could feel my heart beating hard in my chest, my clammy hands squeezing around the brush.

“I feel quite stupid now, you see,” Minhwan started suddenly, his cold voice startling me. I turned around to look at him, trying to keep my expression neutral but knowing I probably looked truly scared and guilty. He stared at me expectantly, but when I failed to say anything, he continued.

“I saw it,” he simply stated, “the hairpin.” It felt as if time stopped, the blood freezing in my veins with one simple word. I opened and closed my mouth a few times, but I ultimately failed to say anything. He knew I wouldn’t be able to go back to the market to buy it myself, there was nothing I could say to excuse that.

“I saw how certain mornings you seemed to be flustered,” he continued quietly, “how you changed, I saw the flowers you tried to hide.” He chuckled darkly, mirthlessly, but stayed sprawled out in the corner, watching me. I sat frozen in front of my vanity, brush still in hand, thoughts going a mile a minute.

“I ignored it, of course,” Minhwan carried on, seemingly okay with being the only one to talk, “I know how hard it is to get here and there’s no one close enough to sneak here like this. But when I went to town for the shamaness, I started remembering these moments. I saw the hairpin in my mind, as clear as day. And it made sense. Whatever he is, you knew about him.” I gulped, but said nothing, staring at my hands. Out of the corner of my eye I saw movements and I looked up startled. Minhwan was now moving towards me, slow and calculated, and dread filled me.

I looked up at him and couldn’t help a few stray tears escaping me. Minhwan watched me coldly, but it was so different than what I was used to from him and it terrified me. This was a different kind of rage, the kind that made people unpredictable, the kind when you know the person is so angry they’ve become calm.

He slowly threaded his hand into my hair, gripping it tightly until I could feel slight pain. He angled my head, watching the tears slide down my face with a scowl. Then he pushed my head away and released my hair, sending me crashing into the vanity. I caught myself on my hands, but the impact still hurt and I whimpered through the tears.

I heard Minhwan moving about the room, thrashing the chest I kept some of my belongings in, tearing through my fine robes and sending little reminders and keepsakes flying through the room and crashing into the floor and the walls. With every crash I flinched again and again, shrinking into myself and slowly slinking into the corner behind my vanity.

Minhwan finally got to what he was looking for – the dried flowers and other little gifts Taehyung has been bringing me. Whatever he got his hands on, he destroyed, tearing the flowers apart or breaking things by throwing them on the floor. I watched him helplessly, now fully sobbing as I witnessed my life being torn apart.

Minhwan paid me no mind, his eyes catching onto something in the chest. He bent over to pull out the object, and I eyed him carefully before I realised what it was. The hairpin. He glanced over at me and when he saw my eyes trained to it, he smirked with such malice it made shiver. He gripped it with both hands and then with a quick gesture broke it in half. Before I could stop myself, I cried out with my hands outstretched going to grab it, grab him, just do anything to stop it from happening, but I couldn’t. Minhwan threw the broken pin on the floor, and I watched the little gem break away and fall through the tiles.

Minhwan walked over to me again and crouched down so he could look at me closer.

“Did he get you pregnant?” he suddenly asked, and it was such an unexpected question it shocked me into silence as I just stared at him dumbly. Then I just slowly shook my head. Minhwan’s face stayed impassive. He just stared at me until I started squirming in my place, my skin crawling with fear and nervousness.

Then he just got up and walked out.

I stayed put, not daring to move from my place, but I strained my ears to hear whatever he was doing. He walked around the main room for a moment and then his footsteps seemed to get further away until I heard the door slide open, slide shut and then silence. I held my breath, waiting for a moment before I allowed myself to decompress, immediately slumping down onto the ground. With the stress rapidly draining from my body, I found myself a shaking crying mess. I crawled over to the chest and grabbed onto whatever destroyed piece of memory I could, cradling them to my chest and desperately hoping that I could mend it, that it would all go away. That I’d wake up in Taehyung’s arms and he’d console me and tell me it was all a bad dream.

I didn’t sleep that night. And Minhwan didn’t return in the morning. The shamaness and her husband came knocking with the dawn and I sat on the porch and expressionlessly watched the main gate rattle and shake under their fists, listened to their raised concerned voices calling to be let in. I was drained, empty and exhausted. I waited until they got tired of it and left, and then I continued sitting there watching the trees move, the sun travel the sky. I could barely feel the frost biting at my fingers, my arms, my face. I could barely feel anything.

For two days, I waited. I sat around the house and watched the walls, walked around the yard and looked outside, into the forest and the trees. Minhwan didn’t return. Taehyung didn’t return. I was completely alone, in the silent house, just wondering whether I was forsaken by both of them, wondering what would happen if neither of them came back.

On the dawn of the third day, I heard footsteps in the yard. My stomach dropped and my heart felt like a piece of ice. Footsteps meant Minhwan. Footsteps meant the end of my life, meant my husband was back and there was no telling what he would do.

I drew the blanket closer to myself and resignedly made my way outside. I would accept whatever was to come. Except the moment I slid the door open, I saw a sheepish Taehyung nervously stepping from foot to foot in our yard. I could only guess how I looked, but when he saw me, he closed the distance between us in a few quick strides, arms immediately pulling me into his chest. I felt my resolve break and desperately clawed at him, pulled him closer, just needing to touch him and make sure he was real and he came back.

He pulled back and I whined, but he took my face into his hands, gazing upon me with tenderness and sadness and despair. His fingers smoothed out the worried lines on my face, touched the puffy cheeks and eyes, gently caressed my face until I could see my vision blurring with unshed tears. Taehyung sighed and bent down to lightly kiss my forehead.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered quietly, his voice like soft caress for my soul after days of loneliness and solitude, and sudden onslaught of emotions hit me like a stone wall. I grabbed onto his robe and looked into his kind beautiful eyes.

“Where were you?” it came out choked on a sob and I couldn’t even wait for his answer before the dam broke and I started crying. Taehyung held me through it, he took me in his arms and carried me inside, petted my back and held my face, whispered to me and it almost felt like a huge déjà vu to the first night I let him get closer to me. He apologised again and again, and I should have pressed for more answers, but I was so relieved he returned, I couldn’t bring myself to ask more.

When I calmed down, Taehyung’s attention was finally drawn to the state of the house. I didn’t clean up the bedroom, I barely even slept, and all the broken things were still lying around. It must have been quite a sight – a broken life, and in the middle of it all, a broken me. But instead of saying anything, he just reached over to grab the remnants of the hairpin. I watched him wordlessly, heart struck with grief at the sight of it, but he played with it for a moment, eyes peeking over at me and grinning mischievously. I returned it shakily, heavy emotions still weighing the corners of my mouth down but I tried, head leaning on his shoulder.

He encased the broken parts of it into his hands and shook them little. I thought nothing of it, watching his hands turn from side to side, expecting this to be just a way to distract me, but when his hands stopped, he uncovered his palm with a grand gesture and I gasped. There, lying on his palm, was the hairpin in one piece, looking as if it’s never been broken.

I immediately went to grab it, but he moved his hand away, keeping it out of my reach. Instead, he grabbed my brush and started slowly brushing out my tangled unkept hair. I let him care for me, I sat there on the floor of my thrashed bedroom, leaned on him and listened to him hum as he played with my hair. When Tae was satisfied with it, he tied my hair with his red ribbon and then pushed in the hairpin.

The fondness in his eyes when he looked over his work warmed my heart, and I relaxed into his embrace.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t here,” Taehyung whispered again, “I shouldn’t have left you alone.” I shook my head and tightened my arms around him.

“There was nothing you could have done,” I told him and attempted to smile. I wanted to ease his worries, but I still felt too shaken.

“I should have been here,” Taehyung reiterated, “You needed me, and I failed you.” I squeezed his waist, trying to share comfort to him as he did to me. He looked at me fondly with a little smile, then kissed me gently.

“Where were you?” I asked again, this time much more calmly. Taehyung’s face fell immediately and I expected him not to want to tell me, but with some difficulty he started talking.

“I went to my hyung,” he admitted to me, and I realised there was guilt in his expression, “I asked him to sort something out for me.” I looked at him confused, but his face has turned hard and cold, gazing out of the room. I wanted to ask more, but I couldn’t bring myself to. It didn’t matter now, all that mattered was that he returned.

“We need to leave,” I blurted out suddenly, the calmness leaving my body. I turned on my knees and grabbed onto his clothed shoulders, looking into his eyes with urgency. Taehyung smiled at me and attempted to sit me back down, but I wouldn’t let him. “We really need to leave, before my husband returns,” I continued, the words falling out of me quickly, “I don’t know where he went, he hasn’t returned for a few days, but when he returns I cannot say what he will do.”

Taehyung’s hands pushed onto my shoulders, gentle smile on his face, mouth opening to tell me something, no doubt to calm down, but I jumped in before he got a chance.

“No, you don’t understand Taehyung, he knows,” I whispered urgently, “He knows about us. When he returns… Taehyung, I’m scared of what will happen…” I trailed off, hands flexing and bunching up the fabric of his robes. A few stray tears escaped my eyes, and I was surprised I even had some left in me, after the last few days.

Taehyung gave me a soft smile, hands coming up to hold my face. He gently wiped my tears away and bent down to kiss my forehead, my nose and finally my lips. I watched him, despair mixing with love and fear inside of me, making me feel like I was about to explode. I didn’t know how else explain to him that we weren’t safe here.

“I’m ready to leave,” I whispered again, desperate and broken, “Please Taehyung, I’ll go with you. I’m ready to go. There’s nothing left here.” He said nothing, but caressed my hair, fingers smoothing out the edges of my cold wet face. His eyes were trained on his hands moving on my skin, as if he wasn’t registering what I said at all. I could see in them that he was battling something, lips pursed in a bittersweet smile like they were trying to keep in some awful truths.

My heart gave a few painful pumps before it felt like it stilled completely. My hands fell from him as despair and hurt took over. Suddenly the realisation hit me, the realisation of what this must have been for him. A goodbye. My lips curled around a silent sob, but I couldn’t cry more, there was nothing left inside.

Taehyung noticed my plight and immediately pulled back into him, and I realised why he looked so guilty when we sat down.

“You’re leaving, aren’t you?” the words barely left my mouth, so quiet they could be barely heard, but Taehyung reacted to them immediately, arms tightening around me.

“No, darling, of course I’m not,” he replied, but I didn’t want to hear more lies, not now and not ever. My own hands balled into fists in my lap.

“Please, tell me the truth,” I said resolutely, looking straight into his eyes that were coloured by confusion at my statement. “What are you talking about?” Taehyung asked, lost and worried. His hands travelled across my shoulders and back, grabbing onto anywhere they could and then passing on as he tried to comfort me without fully knowing what was happening.

“You didn’t respond before,” I told him, and the realisation seemed to hit him almost instantly. “Oh, darling,” he whispered and kissed me softly again, “of course I want you to leave with me. But…” He seemed to struggle there, looking down to his lap guiltily, fingers digging into my shoulders nervously. I grabbed onto his shoulders too and pressed a little closer, until our faces were just a breath away.

“What is it?” I asked, desperate for a resolution, desperate to leave this all behind and go into the woods with him, follow him wherever he’d take me.

“Your husband…” Taehyung started and I tensed at the mention, but I wasn’t prepared for what came out of his mouth next, “he isn’t coming back.” I scrunched my face up in confusion. Taehyung avoided my eyes again, this time looking towards the door with a quiet resolution painted on his face.

“What are you talking about?” I pushed out of my mouth, mind muddled and tongue tied, “Of course he is, and he’ll bring all hell back with him.” Taehyung sighed, hands flexing into my skin.

“Y/N, you don’t understand,” he reiterated, urgency taking over his sweet, honeyed tone, “He isn’t coming back. Ever.” I froze when I finally put together what he had tried to tell me. I wish I could say I was terrified. I wish I could say that I was filled with dread and panic and disgust instead of relief, I wish I could say that I pushed him away, confused and hurt, instead of letting out a shocked laugh, hands immediately searching for his face. I turned him so he’d look at me.

He was painted with shame and guilt, with fear that I would hate him for the implication, so I gently caressed his face and laid a little kiss over his furrowed brows. He closed his eyes, sighing in relief. My heart was beating fast, but I couldn’t tell if it was out of nervousness or joy. I wondered whether that made me a bad person, whether I was cursed after all. But when Taehyung opened his eyes and gave me a toothy grin, it didn’t seem to matter much.

“What did you do?” I asked the question in a hushed whisper, as if discussing my husband’s demise was a thrilling secret just between the two of us. Based on the dark-haired man’s reaction to it he was expecting to hear a horror-struck tone, not the casualness with which I spoke about this matter, but he shook the surprise quick enough.

“Do you remember my hyung? The tiger?” Taehyung begun his explanation, a small smile taking over his face when I nodded in answer, “He was the one your husband owed money to. It was a matter of time before he’d gotten himself reaped, I just called in an early favour.” I frowned slightly at that.

“You mean that my husband was always destined to die?” the question was asked more out of curiosity than concern, but Taehyung still seemed to be a little on edge, fearing my reaction and attempting to gauge my emotional state. Still, he indulged me.

“He was since the moment he decided to play cards against a spirit,” Taehyung explained, “Tigers don’t play for money. We have no need for earthly possessions. But the more the human loses to you, the more under your power they are. With the mounting debt, the spirit only bides his time, terrorising the soul and pushing them into losing more. Then the spirit only waits until they’ve lost the amount of money that could buy their soul, before reaping. Your husband was a lost cause since Yoongi set his eyes on him.” I took in the information slowly, but to me his death was inconsequential now. Taehyung would take me away, I didn’t have to fear being left behind and collected by a family-in-law and living out the rest of my life as a proper widow, a property of my husband’s relatives. With that my only concern was taken care of and I found myself empty of any big reactions regarding his impending sudden demise.

“Do souls have prices, then?” I inquired more, interested in his earlier statement. Taehyung’s eyes sparkled slightly, as if he was delighted I wanted to know more, delighted that I wasn’t mourning, that I didn’t think him a murderer.

“Yes they do,” he answered simply, “a saint would be hard to tempt, the amount would be higher. A tyrant on the other hand, a sinner, they don’t take much.” I hummed quietly, absent-mindedly playing with some of Taehyung’s long hair. It didn’t take much to know which category my husband fell to. Getting my questions answered, I was satisfied to let this subject go. I felt as if a great weight has been lifted off of my shoulders and off of my heart. I found myself cautiously hopeful, looking forward to leaving this house and everything in it behind, letting it rot and fall to the ground and never return. But Taehyung seemed to have something else on his mind still.

“It was me,” he confessed quietly and suddenly, leaving me confused what he meant. He looked at me, gauging my reaction, fingers nervously playing with the edge of my jeogori. “It was me who told hyung to seek him out and tempt him into playing,” the man finally got out and it seemed as if a weight has been lifted off his shoulders too.

I said nothing, hands migrating to caress his hair gently, smiling softly, and then getting up. I walked across the room to where my possessions laid strewn across the floor as if they were violently gutted from the insides of the chest. I found a cloth big enough and started piling the most important things inside. Taehyung watched me quietly, unsure of where I stood, still believing I could shun him for this. I smiled at him again when I caught his sad eyes watching my hands move. He returned it, in the same cautiously hopeful way I felt, and I could just think to myself. How perfect. We’re perfect like this.

“I just need to grab a few things and we can go,” I said, giving him a reassuring smile. His returning one was as bright as the sun itself and I felt my drained heart tiredly jumping in joy.

When I gathered everything, he took the bundle from me gently into one of his hands, the other holding mine as I quietly led him out of the cold empty house. Outside, the air was crisp and freezing, but the sun was shining and it filled me with happiness. The snow was sparkling, reflecting the rays of sunlight, blinding me slightly, but I had everything I needed, and it was a beautiful day outside. I squeezed Taehyung’s hand and he returned it.

Once stood in the gate, I turned back to the house wordlessly. I could see through the open doors the mess that was left inside, the state of the bedroom, and the two trails of footsteps leaving forever. Taehyung watched me carefully, making sure I was okay. I nodded at him and he grinned gently. We both turned and walked away.

He led me through the forest, up the mountain path. I’d never been here before, and it seemed that it was a long time since someone else than the demon himself took this path. Briefly I wondered if it even was visible to other people or if it was one of those paths you see once out of the corner of your eyes and then never find it again, even if curiosity kills you from the inside.

Taehyung was walking confidently now, once we crossed the threshold into his world he gained strength and resolve and led me through the trees until we reached a little clearing with a dwelling firmly in the middle of it.

It was smaller than our farm, but it looked much nicer, with little windchimes and colourful decorations hanging from the beam over the porch. Their clanking created a nice ambience in the background and their colourful flashes reflected off of the snow. I smiled fondly at that, feeling at ease.

The house only really had two smaller rooms and a kitchen, but they were filled with books and clothes and paintings. Taehyung seemed to be a lover of arts, his walls full of various pieces varying from flowers to landscapes and portraits. I peeked at them curiously, but Taehyung seemed eager to pull me along until we reached the other room, where a bed was unfolded but untouched. There was a vanity on one side, very similar to the one I had, ready with a brush and another beautiful hairpin sitting next to it, waiting for their owner. I smiled at that, heart filled with so much love it felt like bursting.

Taehyung carefully laid the bundle with my things on the ground and then skipped back over to me, plastering himself to my back, arms possessively coiling around me and lips and nose immediately running over the expanse of the skin at my shoulder and neck. I shuddered lightly, noting his palpable excitement at bringing me to his home.

“This will be our bedroom from now on,” he whispered in a rough voice, laying a series of wet open-mouthed kisses down my shoulder, “This house will become a home.” His hand splayed over my stomach and pushed me more into his form, his heated body melting over me instantly, lips travelling wherever a sliver of skin presented itself to them.

I shuddered lightly, squirming in his arms. I managed to turn to face him and immediately was met with fond eyes full of unshed tears. I grabbed his face and gently pressed our lips together. I meant for the kiss to stay innocent, but Taehyung clearly had a different idea, descending onto me with an urgency of a starving man, lips devouring mine in a hot all-consuming kiss.

I moaned lightly into his mouth, hands tightening in his clothes and subconsciously pulling him closer to me. He used the opportunity to slip his tongue inside my mouth, sighing with content when it met mine and twisted and pushed around each other. He towered over me, with every second bending down a little more, making me arch into the kiss. The dark-haired man was grabbing onto my hips, as strong as a vice, digging fingers into the layers of fabric with such force I still felt his nails biting into my skin. My own hands slowly travelled up, tangling into his hair and wrapping around his neck. When I pulled on the strand lightly, Taehyung sighed into my mouth and pushed us closer together.

My mind was quickly becoming muddled, only thoughts of the man in my arms swimming around in my brain, body heating up rapidly and begging for his attention in the way that he used to give me. And with the way he held onto me and pressed into me, he was in a similar state.

Without interrupting our kiss, Taehyung started slowly sliding down to the floor and pulled me with him. I gasped slightly and finally broke our kiss to breathe and take in the new position, but Tae didn’t get discouraged and continued his path down my jawline and my neck. I had enough mind to breathlessly move my head out of the way and present my neck for him, which made him hum appreciatively, his low deep voice purring into my skin. All I could really do was hold on to him and let the sensations sail me further.

I could feel his hands inching higher, until they were kneading my waist, thumbs slipping under the jeogori and messing with my undergarments. My whole body trembled like a plucked string, desire wreaking havoc on my psyche. I released a shaky sigh and decided to be a little bit braver. I grabbed one of his hands, Taehyung making a little questioning sound in the back of his throat, but didn’t stop his ministrations, and I pushed it towards the bow tying my top together.

Taehyung paused only for a second, eyes searching mine for any kind of hesitation, but I only blushed under his heated gaze, the lust taking over the control of my body and pushing my chest more into his curious hands. He no longer wasted time after that, leaning a bit back and making quick work of the binding and soon he had me sitting in his lap in only my undergarments. My lips found his again, needing to feel his touch more than I needed to breathe oxygen.

With new skin now visible Taehyung seemed to be over the moon, a little content sighs and quiet moans leaving his mouth as his fingers travelled across the expanse of my shoulder blades and my arms. The intensity of the kiss kept increasing, my body confusedly trying to move with the motions and seek even more pleasure. When Taehyung gently bit on my lower lip, my hips jerked forward on their own and I could feel a hardness sliding across my centre. We both gasped, Taehyung’s hands jumping to my hips to stop them, but I felt as if a lighting struck me to my core, pleasure zapping through me on a jolt. I gasped, hips mindlessly chasing after the feeling again. Taehyung separated the kiss on a groan, his head falling to my shoulder, hands now encouraging my hips to move instead of stopping them.

For a moment we just enjoyed each other, mindlessly kissing here, grabbing onto each other and chasing the pleasure, moving against each other. I managed to get Taehyung out of his outer robes too and he was clad only in a thin undershirt that teased a little bit of his collarbones, which I immediately covered in kisses. We didn’t speak and the room was filled with the sounds of shifting clothes and airy little gasps and moans, but I needed more. I needed so much more.

Taehyung’s lips travelled down to the edge of my undergarment, kissing the soft swell teasing my breasts, and I gasped and arched and curved into him, but I could feel the smirk settling on his face as he moved away again. I whined, mind gone and begging for more solid touch, for his hand between my legs and his lips biting into my shoulders.

I pushed onto his shoulders and as Taehyung wasn’t expecting it, he went easily, slight alarm painting his face, but I just grabbed him and pulled his face back to mine. The moment our lips crashed together, I keened, licking into his mouth desperately. The dark-haired man chuckled, but he seemed to take pity on me.

With one hand gently laid on my lower back, he slowly toppled us over until I was lying on the ground with his weight settling gently on top of me, legs tangled and lips intertwined. With a wet smack our lips separated and for a moment we both just looked at each other breathing hard, but then the time and reality caught up to my overheated excited brain and I immediately started tearing at his clothes, untying anything I got my hands on and pushing the fabric away until his whole torso was on display.

I choked on a moan, the desire reigniting within me tenfold. He was beautiful, strong and lean, honey-toned skin blemishless and perfect. Distracted with all the possibilities and my body screaming at me to have the man take me now, take me as soon as possible, my hands wildly flitted over his chest, kneading the skin but not settling anywhere for too long. I decided to pay back the favour and my lips latched onto his neck, making him shudder and moan. I played around lightly, just like he had, kissing anywhere I could, moving south to his pecks and then back up all the way to his ear with wet open-mouthed kisses, revealing just how far gone I was and how needy he made me with his earlier ministrations.

Taehyung buried his face into the crook of my neck, skin rippling with every touch, releasing low groans right into my ear, which made me work even harder. I was ecstatic that I was finally able to touch him too, ecstatic by the prospect of returning the pleasure he had been bestowing me with all these mornings that would have otherwise been cold and lonely.

With that thought in mind, my hands shifted to his hips, at first seemingly just sitting there and holding onto him, but slowly moving downwards, pushing the pants down. Taehyung didn’t seem to notice at first, but once I got low enough to expose the v of his hips and the thicker part of his happy trail, he let out a loud excited groan, body shaking with anticipation.

His lips pressed into my ear. “Do you want to see me? Touch me?” he whispered, voice rough and aroused. I gasped quietly, legs falling open more so that he could settle his hips more comfortably and I could see the moment I finally pushed them low enough, breath held in excitement.

“Yes, please,” I answered in a similarly debauched hushed voice, “please, Taehyung.” His chest rumbled happily, lips busying themselves with biting and kissing into my neck. I must have been absolutely covered with little red and purple bruises and the thought sent a bolt of arousal through me, my body jerking underneath the bigger man.

“Go ahead then, darling,” he said sensually, regaining back a little control. His hips stiffened, allowing me to pull them down the final stretch, releasing his erection. It hit his lower stomach with a tiny noise, the wet tip leaving a little smear of clear liquid there. I clenched on nothing, a gush of wetness suddenly leaving me at the prospect of having him inside of me. He was watching me closely, a wild look on his face, and the more excited I felt, the hungrier he looked.

Then Taehyung pressed his face to mine again, lips caressing the shell of my ear as he whispered: “Do you want it? Do you want my cock, darling?” I nodded, a whimper escaping me, thighs and pussy throbbing with pure burning need. I was so aroused my head was spinning and every thought inside curled around the pleasure this man was providing me with. He clicked his tongue though, and shook his head a little, giving me a playful grin.

“Then you need to say it,” he stated meanly, eyes sparkling with mischief, “Good girls always ask for it.” The way his tongue wrapped around the words good girl made me borderline delirious, back arching and thighs spreading even further, until my hips hurt and I was gasping with the liquid lust coursing through my veins.

“Please!” I whined out again, hands grabbing onto his searing hot skin and attempting to pull him closer, but he didn’t budge.

“No, no, no, darling,” his voice seemed even darker and richer than usual and I was losing my mind on the little rasp, his tongue peeking out to play with the lobe of my ear quickly sending me spinning, “You need to say it.”

“Please, Taehyung,” I choked out, a few tears of frustrated arousal slipping down my cheeks, “I want you.” He smiled, giving me false sense of victory, but still kept his hips away from mine. I whined again, not knowing what else to do.

“I want to hear the words from your mouth, darling,” he stated firmly, “Say ‘Please Taehyung, I want your cock’.” I gasped at his words, the flush on my face deepening despite the lewdness of the situation I already found myself in. My tongue darted out to wet my dried lips and Taehyung’s eyes zeroed in on my mouth, fascinated.

“I want your cock,” I whispered, the arousal pushing me into boldness I’ve never displayed before, “Please, Taehyung, I want your cock so bad.” He groaned and I saw the exact moment his pupils expanded with pure lust and his eyes were overtaken by desire to have me. While his lips crashed to mine, his hand grabbed one of mine and pulled it towards his cock and wrapping it around it.

I squeezed on instinct and Taehyung moaned into me, hips bucking gently. I took a moment to feel him out, just gently ran my hands over the ridges and curves. I could feel the way Taehyung trembled, the way his breathing stuttered on tiny, muted groans, his eyes firmly shut. His hands grabbed onto my thighs and dug into them through the underskirt still half covering me from his eyes.

When I began sliding my hand up and down the shaft, Taehyung’s head once again fell to my shoulder, open mouth pressing into my skin and releasing rugged moans. His hips jerked forward in tiny motions, thrusting lightly into my curled hands. I was content with touching him, but my body also screamed for attention, thighs shaking and muscles in my belly contracting in pleasurable little ripples. I was so wet I could feel my essence sliding down my thighs and my bottom, leaving a little puddle on the bedding under us.

I squeezed around him lightly and he jerked into my hands harder, a debauched groan leaving him. I spasmed, pussy pulsing around nothing, begging to be filled up to the brim, an answering moan leaving my own lips. Taehyung looked at me through half-lidded eyes, reason completely overridden by the need to push himself into my tight wet heat at the clear need depicted on my face, he shuddered again, pre-cum leaking out the red tip of his painfully erect cock.

His hands scrambled to grab my skirt and push it up my legs until it pooled around my stomach, wet pussy exposed to his needy hands. He didn’t waste any time and pulled his fingers through my folds, teasing my clit for a moment and punching out desperate moans out of me, whole body spasming at the sudden onslaught of pleasure cursing through me, but then his fingers hurriedly slid down and pushed inside of me. At the feeling of his fingers getting so easily swallowed up by my wet cunt he groaned, thrusting them in a little and scissoring to make sure I was absolutely ready to take a cock, but both of us were beyond gone with desire.

I was enjoying the feeling of finally having something inside of me, but it didn’t last for long. After a few hurried thrusts of his fingers, Taehyung pulled his hand away and I whined, arching my back, pussy chasing after him. He quickly swatted my hands from his length and lowered his hips until we were pressing into each other, his cock snuggly sliding through my wet folds.

Our breaths were knocked out of us on deep satisfied groans. He moved his hips back and forth a few times, coating himself in my juices to ensure easier slide, and then pushed inside with one firm motion, cock driving inside of me without any resistance, filling me absolutely all the way up on the first thrust. I threw my head back, mouth open on a silent scream, the contentment of finally having him inside me lighting my every nerve on fire and satisfying something deep inside of my core. I trembled, desperately holding onto him as my brain turned to mush with barely anything.

Taehyung was having more trouble staying silent, mouth open and instantly pumping out groans and moans, shaky hands keeping my hips still and desperately trying to stop himself from immediately mindlessly driving into the divine pleasure that was the feeling of being enveloped by my wet tight walls.

I whimpered and squirmed underneath him, grabbing onto him. I wasn’t even fully aware of myself, body and mind consumed by the heavenly feeling of being filled by him.

“Please!” I whined out loud, desperately needing him to finally start doing something, like there was an itch deep inside of me that needed scratching, “Please, give me more!”

Taehyung chuckled above me, trying to stay suave and smooth but I could hear how breathless he was, could feel his hands tightening and loosening on my hips. His hips trembled against mine, jumping with excitement at my words.

He pulled his hips back and slowly slid back in, making us both sigh with content. He kept the pace slow and deep, covering me with his body and claiming my mouth with his while I fell apart on his well-aimed pace. I moaned on every stroke, arching my hips and spreading my thighs to let him hit deeper, pull him in closer.

The slow build up of the pleasure had me losing my mind. I felt like I was getting gradually submerged into boiling water, the heat steadily rising with every thrust filling me with deep primal satisfaction. My hands roamed over Taehyung’s body, appreciating his smooth skin and muscles as they jumped with movement, soaking up Taehyung’s little hick-uped groans when I passed over sensitive areas.

Taehyung changed the angle a little bit and when he pressed all the way inside, his tip pressed into a spot that had me keening loudly underneath him, eyes tightly shut and mouth wide open. My hands instinctively grabbed onto his waist and squeezed, nails digging into his skin, and Taehyung groaned loudly, hips jerking into me roughly, punching out a whiny moan out of me.

That seemed to break us into a frenzy, my hands sliding down his body and grabbing onto his ass, pushing him into me and encouraging his movements. Taehyung happily took the sign and started thrusting faster and harder, filling the room with sounds of our moans and the wet slapping of our hips. I couldn’t stop the sounds spilling out of my mouth, his every stroke hitting deep inside me and lighting my every nerve on fire, stoking the lust and the bliss in pulsing consuming waves.

I felt myself getting close to the peak I was so familiar with from his hands, the sensations drowning me and washing over me in over-powering waves. Taehyung’s moans were reaching crescendo, getting higher and whinier as his hips unfalteringly pounded into me.

“So close, darling,” he croaked with a raspy voice, “going to paint you with my seed, going to fill you to the brim.” I moaned in response, pussy throbbing and clenching around him, sucking him in deeper. I needed us both to peak, I needed it more than air to feel him unwind and release, get consumed with pleasure I provided him with.

“God, just a little more,” I answered to him breathlessly on a pleasured sigh. My hands squeezed his bottom and pushed him a little rougher. His breath hitched, but he changed his pace accordingly, slowing down but snapping his hips into me harder and rougher, making me wail with pleasure.

I felt myself spiralling into the heat, knowing I wouldn’t last too long like this. Above me Taehyung watched me through half-lidded eyes, mouth open and face consumed with raw lust at my blissed-out state. I caught his eyes just seconds before my whole body spasmed and then stilled, climax exploding over me with force that shocked a raspy scream out of me. I blanked out, trembling and overflowing with bliss and ecstasy, legs spasming and toes curling with the sensation of the fire consuming me inside out. It was the best feeling I’ve ever felt, the most intense thing my body has ever gone through, but I loved every second of it. It felt as if all the stress just drained away from my body and was replaced by molten gold.

Taehyung fucked me through the orgasm, and it took him only a few more thrusts before his hips jerked wildly, pleasure mounting until he released deep inside of me with his head thrown back and a long drawn-out moan. I felt his cock throb and pulse inside of me as it spurted his seed, his hips lightly swaying in circles to ride it out, until the boneless weightless feeling set in and he collapsed on top of me.

I was feeling so content, body pleasantly light and thrumming with aftershocks of our shared moment, eyelids heavy with sleep. I felt Taehyung slip out and move away from me, his release running down my legs and making me blush again, but I didn’t have any strength to move or wipe it away, so I just laid there and waited for the man. He returned with a piece of cloth, still just as naked, shooting me a little playful wink when he saw me looking at his body. I turned around, embarrassed, even though we had just enjoyed each other like husband and wife.

I heard his little chuckle, but then the cloth suddenly pressed onto my thighs, making me gasp quietly. Taehyung squeezed my leg in apology and continued cleaning me up. I couldn’t help the little sighs of content leaving me, the warm cloth and his gentle touches filling my heart with love.

When he was done, he threw the piece of cloth away carelessly, before jumping onto the bedding and snuggling up to me. We ended up like we always have, Taehyung holding me from behind, hands pulling me as close to him as I could go, lips and nose pressing into the crook of my neck and into my hair, trilling happily.

I let it gently lull me to sleep, melting into his loving embrace, listening to his content purrs, our bodies moulding perfectly together like it was always meant to happen. I closed my eyes, and welcomed sleep, feeling the most comfortable I’ve been in years.

I couldn’t remember what I was thinking right before I slipped under, but I did with the feeling of just everything being right.

I would be okay. We would be okay.

hope you enjoyed yourself and see you around <3

A/N: the story of prince cheoyong, the son of the dragon king who neglected his wife to which a demon of pestilence took a liking and sneaked into her bed - one day cheoyong returned home and saw four feet sticking out of the bed instead of two, and he chased out the demon with singing and dancing, saving his wife and becoming a guardian god - it was said that no demon or evil spirit could enter a house as long as there was a likeness of cheoyong there, so people bought his portraits or talismans with his face and put them on their door, but i kind of switched the sides hehe

#kpop fic #kpop smut #kpop fluff #kpop angst #bts fic #bts smut #bts fluff #bts angst #bts x reader #taehyung fic #taehyung smut #taehyung fluff #taehyung angst #taehyung x reader

[apollo1three]

Hello! can I plz request the obey me bros with their children, you can choose if u want them to be their daughter, son or multiple. i just really wanna see them as like dads, like a scenario maybe when they learn to walk or say their first word you dnt have to if you don't want to! and if it's too much can i have just Beel Mammon or Lucifer :3

AHH MY FIRST REQUEST!!! I’m sorry for taking so long! I haven’t checked my dusty musty crusty a$$ inbox in a while ;-; also nonnie u don’t understand how much I love domestic, sappy, fluffy af stuff like this <3<3

Ofc I’ll do all of em, but I’ll do them in parts so you don’t have to wait for me to finish all seven ^^

------

An unimaginable type of love (Lucifer x f!reader)

The demon brothers with their babies (1/7)

Demons are not born, he once told you; they manifest – either as a product of great sin or demonic energy. Demons do not feel the need to procreate, they cannot- they do not get pregnant, and they certainly do not give birth.  

So how is it that the Morningstar finds himself staring down into sparkling crimson eyes, reminiscent of the deep shade of his, with a softness akin to yours? How is it that he cradles a squirming bundle made from the love between him and his human wife?

With a life only ever dedicated to servitude, Lucifer would’ve never dreamt of creating a family of his own. Never in his time in the celestial realm would he have imagined small, fragile little arms, reaching out for him to hold them in his. Never could he have imagined the possibility of a being regarding him in the sentiment with which he had once regarded Him.

He eyes your sleeping form, snuggled into the comfort of the large bed, and he’s overcome with a fondness that words could not explain the level of. To be loved unconditionally by you, and to be given the most precious gift of all. What had he done to deserve such a thing? - something that was once an unfathomable idea - did he deserve it?

He cradles his daughter in his arms, stroking her little face, and the giggle she lets out is so precious, so much like you, and has him nuzzling his nose into her puffed up little cheeks. You had once light-heartedly complained to him about carrying her in your stomach for nine months, only to have her come out identical to him. Though he'd never admit it, your husband was proud of the notion (at the time, you swore you could see puffed up feathers behind his form), but it was irrefutable how the child carried herself with a poise that was undeniably like yours: a mischievous, yet endearing glint in her eyes that surely meant trouble in the foreseeable future. Lucifer didn’t mind, though.

He mutters, “my darling, what are you doing up so late at night?”, to which his only response is a squeal and few kicks of tiny feet. He tuts back, playfully. “So noisy, my love. Won’t you let your mother sleep?”

There’s a slight breeze from the open balcony, and he gets up from his side of the bed with your daughter rocking gently in his grasp. “Let’s go outside for a bit, come now.”

The way he carries her is careful, protective, and much more assured than the way he had first carried her after her birth. He wasn’t used to dealing with humans, let alone any living thing, in their infancy. Angels and demons did not have an infantile period, and it shook him inwardly the first time he held her, so small and breakable. You, a fully grown human woman, were fragile enough as is – but a human infant? It took some stern reassurance that the child he considered so small and breakable was his just as much as she was yours for his paranoia to waver.

‘She’s ours, Lu.’

(Fatherhood. Such a human experience, and he had only you to thank for it.)

Ushering to the Devildom fireflies, she blows raspberries that makes him want to litter his daughter in even more kisses. So he does, far more unreserved than if it were in front of you (while he loved you and trusted you with his heart and soul, showcasing such unabashed doting was still awkward for new to him). So disgustingly affectionate; the past him would’ve laughed at the notion of such outwards display of emotion directed towards anyone or anything – a hit to his pride, to the very thing he embodied. But to the him right now, such a thought never even crossed his mind.

“Do you see that, my love? Aren’t they pretty?”, he smiles softly, tenderly, eyes creasing at the corners. He pokes at her mouth, now endlessly razzing. “Alright, who taught you to do that? Was it Uncle Mammon? Belphie?"

To the him right now, his pride was in the form of his beautiful wife, and his darling little girl.

“Daddy will always protect you two, I swear on it.”

Absentmindedly stroking her head, a thousand thoughts run through his head. He contemplates heading back inside as the wind picks up, worried you might be getting cold. You’ve been all over the baby since she arrived (and even before then, too), insisting that her crib be placed in the both of your bedroom (much to Asmodeus’s chagrin, adamant that your old room would make the most beautiful human-realm-esque nursery) – while your motherliness was extremely attractive (or rather, all of you), and despite your daughter being an unusually well-behaved little thing, you deserved some quality rest.

He heads back, moving to lower her into her pink-embellished, Avatar of Lust™, crib, but freezes.

“Da..da!”

His movements are miniscule, microscopic, as he looks down at the cooing and giggling tot.

“Say- say that again, darling.”

“Dada!”

Time seems to slow, and he’s overcome with so much fondness, so much love.

“Haha! That’s right, here’s Dada..!” He practically throws her up into the air, accompanied by more squeaky giggles, and if anyone asks: no- his eyes don’t water (it’s merely the brightness of the Devildom moon).

Amidst childish laughter, she says it once more.

He lets out a shaky laugh of disbelief. His eyebrows are furrowed, and there's an uncharacteristically toothy grin on his face. Slowly, trembling hands (a fault of the temperature, obviously, despite him once mentioning the immunity of demons to things as 'trivial' as the weather) press his daughter's small body to his chest.

His daughter. His. His daughter. His wife. His brothers. His family.

It was then that he realised, although perhaps he had always known, that the love he felt for you and the life the two of you had created was different from His love. It was unconditional. The sort of love that allowed him to understand Lilith, the sort of love that he would gladly die for, kill for, be destroyed for. The sort of love that was once unattainable, unimaginable, was now closer than ever.

Lucifer wanted to share this moment with you.

“M-MC!”

#obey me lucifer #obey me lucifer x reader #lucifer x reader #obey me #obey me x reader #om lucifer #obey me scenarios #obey me fluff #obey me angst #obey me shall we date #mammon obey me #obey me asmo #obey me asmodeus #obey me belphegor #obey me hcs #obey me headcanons #obey me imagines

[multi-fxndom446]

All I ask

Kyle ‘Gaz’ Garrick x Reader

Summary: you and kyle try to contain the feelings you have for each other all while living together.

Warnings: none it’s so fluffy. Roommates to lovers, basically best friends to lovers. There’s mention of blood near the end but not extensive.

Word count: 5k

God I hope you guys like this one I changed the ending like 5 thousand times so honestly please love it or I’ll cry.

“You’ve never learned how to dance?!”

Kyle laughed at the way you looked at him. Mouth open in surprise while the knife you were just using to cut some vegetables with was practically pointing in his direction almost in accusation.

“No, I’ve never exactly had the time. Yknow army and all?” You scoffed at his reply and turned back to your cutting board while he grabbed a glass of water.

He wanted to help you cook dinner but you quickly shut down the idea the moment he stepped into the kitchen not that long ago. Saying something about him being home a few weeks already and this was the first time you had a chance to cook him a meal.

You could almost get used to the domestic feeling of it all you almost have on more then one occasion before you had to remind yourself..he’s just a roommate.

Someone who had come to you almost two years ago now asking for the extra bedroom you had. You were desperate at the time, your old roommate had left without warning and you were left with only two weeks to find someone.

So when this rather nice military man came to you asking if it was still available you were more then happy to say yes. It helped he did look rather handsome but who’s asking.

He told you in his interviewing process how he really wouldn’t be here as much but he would keep up with the rent. You remember asking him why he was even getting a place and he mentioned family nearby he wanted to stay close too.

Didn’t mention the family he was talking about was his Captain who regularly stayed at the base that wasn’t to far from you. He didn’t mention it until about 6 months later.

“You really need to learn how to do that.” You mentioned while you dumped all the veggies into a pot on the stove. “How are you gonna whoo any girl you find attractive in those bars you and your friends go to?”

Kyle went silent at your words and it made you glance over to him. He wasn’t looking at you though his gaze seemed further away like there was something he wanted to say but held himself back.

“Can you get the chicken?” His eyes snapped to you when you called for him again. He quickly nodded and made his way to the fridge where he paused.

“Uh.”

You didn’t like the sound of that. “What? What is it?” You wiped your hands while walking closer to see what he was looking at.

It was the chicken you bought not that long ago but he had a cringe on his face. “This is expired.” You gaped at him and snatched the package from his hands.

“No way! I just bought-“ but as you turned it you saw it, clear as day. It expired last week. “That no good meat department man sold me bad chicken!”

Kyle laughed whole heartedly behind you and while you were annoyed at the situation you couldn’t deny the way his laugh filled the void you felt when he was gone.

You looked up at him with a frown and it only made him laugh harder. He reached for the phone, dialing a few numbers while he went to the stove and shut off the burner.

“What are you doing?” You were disappointed. You had been planning this dinner since he returned a few weeks ago and it just all went down the drain.

Kyle was still smiling at you when you walked past him to the trash bag to throw the chicken away. “Ordering pizza.” You turned to him with a thumbs up and let him order while you cleaned the rest of your unnecessary mess.

-

Awhile later you and Kyle found yourselves on the couch, pizza long gone. Now it was just the two of you drinking whatever alcohol he had leftover while he told you funny stories about his task force.

Things he could tell you, most of them being stuff they got up to on their downtime. You surmised awhile ago that when he and this ‘soap’ were together they caused the most trouble.

You loved listening to him talk, to see the way his eyes lit up when he spoke of the people who had become his family. It didn’t mean it hurt any less when he would leave but you knew what you agreed too. You just never thought you were going to fall in love with him in the process.

“There’s one thing about Price that everyone knows and it’s not to mess with the cigars.” He held up his hand in contemplation, “okay two things, his cigars or his hat. Completely off limits. I thought he was gonna wring Soaps neck when he grabbed it and took off. Never seen that man run faster in my life.”

The brief silence was cut short when Kyles phone started buzzing and suddenly the carefree look on his face hardened. It was so fast, if you weren’t used to it by now you may have been shocked.

He tried to give you a reassuring smile as he stood, “I’ll be right back.” He muttered, setting down his beer.

You couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed. You already knew what he was being called in for. Since moving in you’ve memorized his ringtones and this one was for when his Captain called him, and his captain never called unless it was to tell him about a new mission.

You learned a lot about him from the short time you’ve lived together even when he was gone for a lot of it. You memorized his routines. Almost all of them.

When he came home from long missions you knew he’d be so tired he would kick his shoes off at the door instead of putting them inside because he would clean them of the dirt and mud the next morning. He was always so tidy, you told him multiple times he can leave things around but he always laughed you off.

You honestly wish he would leave things around. Make his mark on the apartment so it didn’t feel so lonely.

You were so deep in thought you didn’t notice when Kyle came back into the room, you never had. The man walked like he was floating. He could see the disappointment in your gaze and it made his heart hurt.

He tapped his phone against his palm a few times, gaining your attention. He stood there for a few more minutes just thinking before he tossed his phone on the couch and walked over to you with his hand held out.

You glanced at him in confusion but he only smiled. “You said someone has to teach me how to dance right? Then come on teach me.” Instantly a smile spread across your face and you eagerly took his hand in yours.

“Okay Mr. Garrick.” He only laughed at you while you quickly scrolled through your phone to find a playlist of some of your favorite songs. “You gotta loosen up first okay? You look nervous so just don’t?”

You grabbed his hands and the two of you danced around goofily for the next several songs. Kyle on multiple occasions would spin you around, laughing–telling you it was the only move he was confident in.

At some point he spun you around so many times you all but collapsed into his arms, laughing. You felt like your head was spinning but you were having the best time of your life.

It wasn’t until the next song started that you realized the situation you were in. Kyle had his arms wrapped tightly around you like he was keeping you from falling to the ground and you were practically pressed against his chest.

You coughed slightly just to get his attention and immediately he loosened his hold but didn’t completely let go of you just enough for you to situate yourself. “Okay now for the real deal. This is where you’d get all the ladies so watch and learn.”

He allowed you to move his hands to where they needed to be, one on your waist and the other holding loosely onto your other hand. “Since you seemed to like spinning me so much this one is the perfect way to do it.” He only nodded at you as you both began to take small steps.

He moved with you which didn’t surprise you in the slightest he was always a fast learner. You were watching the floor to keep from making eye contact with him but it didn’t help that you could feel the heat of his palm on the small of your back.

He gently let your waist go to spin you, this time he made sure not to spin you an extensive amount of times. But instead of spinning you all the way back around to face him he spun you until your back was facing him and the hand holding yours came down across your collarbones to pull you gently to his chest while his other hand went back to holding your waist.

You felt your breathe still when you realized what happened. Your heart felt like it was beating a mile and minute, so fast you couldn’t even tell if you could feel his heart doing the same.

You felt his breathe on the side of your neck and then you felt his lips skim the shell of your ear. You almost wondered if he knew what he was doing or if this was just instinctual.

“S-so that’s definitely a way to impress a girl.” You said, swallowing thickly when you felt the hand on your waist move down to your hip where he squeezed a little tighter like he was trying to ground himself.

You felt his lips leave your ear but you could also feel the deep breathe he took–his chest rising and falling behind you. “Kyle?” You whispered softly and his arm across your chest flexed against you.

He took one more deep breathe before loosening his hold and letting you slip from his arms but he kept one hand still grasped in his. You felt your face heat up and if he noticed he didn’t mention it, instead he gave your hand a small squeeze. “Sorry, let’s continue.”

His voice sounded rough like it hurt him to let you go. You watched him for a moment but he couldn’t hold your gaze. He had you pressed so close to him, if it were up to him he would’ve never let you go but he knew he had to. This was just supposed to be a fun teaching moment he couldn’t turn it into something more.

Then the song came to an end and a few seconds later ‘All I ask’ by Adele started to play. You took a few steps closer to him again, “okay now this next one may be how you get a girl to fall for you.” You joked.

You moved both his hands to your waist and he pulled you closer almost instantly while yours went to wrap around his neck. The moment felt so intimate when he finally looked you in the eyes.

‘-if this is my last night with you

Hold me like I’m more then just a friend’

You felt him shudder against you when you started tickling the back of his neck. He searched your eyes when one of your hands moved from behind his head to cup the side of his jaw.

His whole world felt like it stood still when you looked at him like that, like he was your whole world. Like he was the most precious thing that you wanted to hold close. If you just said the words he would let you hold him as long as you wanted.

‘-give me a memory I can use.

Take me by the hand while we do what lovers do.’

He could see it in the way you looked at him that you were searching for something. For comfort? He wasn’t sure until he realized just how close you both were now and his arms held tighter onto you.

This was so much worse than having your back to him. Because now he had no way of calming himself down. Not when he could see every detail about you so close to him.

His thumbs rubbed soothing circles in your waist while he moved closer to you. He was so close now you could feel his breathe on your lips and you wanted nothing more then to close the distance completely.

You felt your breathe hitch when you saw how intensely he was looking at you. It was like he could see right through you, like he could see everything you were feeling, everything you’ve ever tried to hide from him.

You could feel his lips graze yours now as well as the way his hands moved. One hand was pressed to your lower back and another at your upper back like he was trying to keep you from slipping away this time.

Both your hands were now resting softly at his neck while your gaze flicked between his eyes and his lips. When you looked at him though you realized he wasn’t doing much better.

His breathing seemed to be more ragged and his hands tensed against you as if he was holding himself back.

‘-it matters how this ends

Cause what if I never love again?’

You both were tiptoeing the line that was drawn between you the moment he moved in. One of you moving just a centimeter closer just to pull back slightly.

Your fingers were skimming his jaw line softly, reveling in the way he tensed at your touch. You were a hair's breadth away from each other when you heard his phone ding with an incoming text.

You pulled apart instantly as if pulled from a trance. You were still in his arms but now a safe distance away from his lips and he moved his hands back down to your waist slowly.

He watched you glance behind him to the couch where his phone was lit up. “When do you leave?” You asked quietly while you both continued to sway softly side to side.

“Tomorrow.” You nodded sadly. “I’ll be gone awhile. This one sounded serious. Try not to miss me to much yeah?”

It was meant to be a joke and you could see it in the way he tried to give you a soft smile but all you could do was frown. “I always miss you.” You muttered.

He sighed and brought his hand to the back of your head to pull you closer to him so he could leave a kiss on your hairline. Muttering a soft “I know.”

You continued to sway long after the song was over and what felt like long after the night had ended. You spent as much time as you possibly could with him because you knew tomorrow morning you would be holding onto him as if that would get him to stay. It wasn’t like he held onto you just as tight wishing he wasn’t leaving.

“Be careful.” You would tell him as he left and he’d give you a cheeky grin and kiss you on the cheek as he rushed out the door before replying.

“Always for you.”

~~

It wouldn’t be until months later that the mission would actually finally finish up. It was a very top secret one so he wasn’t able to talk to you, though those were quite a bit of his missions.

He thought about you almost daily. The last night you spent together dancing was something that got him through a lot of tough spots while he was away.

It helped especially when his job required him to see such dark spots in the world he could always recall a memory where you were the light and it never failed to make him remember just exactly what he was fighting for.

Before you came into his life there were some day where he had a hard time understanding the difference between good and bad. Some days he even considered himself to be a bad guy, for letting innocent people get killed because he was too slow to stop a threat.

Other days he couldn’t understand where to draw the line like his Captain had told him and he would get lost in his own head.

It was price that told him to go find an apartment off base because he could see the way it was effecting him to be there all the time. So really he had his Captain to thank yet blame for ever meeting you.

He remembered the first few weeks you started living together, it was awkward at the time but now was a cherished memory of his he came back to often. There had been so many times you apologized about any little mess you made just because you saw how tidy he was but he always waved you off with a smile.

He remembered all the shopping trips you went on together or how you would build furniture together. More like you read him the instructions and he finished it all in under twenty minutes.

He remembered the gradual time spent getting to know each other. The time he spent slowly but surely opening up to you about things and the way you did as well. Even if he spent a lot of time away he knew almost everything about you.

It’s safe to say you were the only thing on his mind as the mission wrapped up and he along with Ghost and Soap went to a bar nearby to unwind when in reality all he wanted to do was go straight home just so he could see you and hug you again.

“So when’re you gonna introduce us to this ‘roommate’ of yours Gaz?” Soap asked after they finished there first round of drinks.

Kyle laughed and played with the bottle in his hand, trying to ignore the way his face suddenly felt hot at the insinuation. “Don’t know. And she is just a roommate.” Ghost and Soap shared a look.

“Seriously?” Ghost asked and Kyle nodded in confirmation. Ghost grunted in disbelief. “There’s no way. You talk about this girl way to much for her to be just a roommate.”

“Gaz..” soap held his hand up, interrupting whatever Kyle was about to say. “You’ve talked about this girl almost everyday for a year and a half now. And how long have you been living together?”

“Almost two years.” He mumbled playing with the rim of his beer. “We’re coming up on the end of the lease again in a few months.”

“And I bet you haven’t thought about leaving that apartment huh? I don’t think it’s even crossed yer mind.” Kyle rolled his eyes at Soap and pushed away his beer.

He wasn’t exactly wrong.

“Just grow a pair and tell her you love her already.” Ghost grumbled, “save the rest of us from the sad puppy dog eyes you get every time you talk about her.”

“Or you could introduce us, who knows maybe she’d like a Scottish man.” Soap teased as he nudged Kyles shoulder.

Kyle leveled him with a glare that only served to make Soap laugh harder than he had been. “This is why I won’t.” He wouldn’t admit that he was nervous about the idea of you meeting his task force. What if you found them scary? Or worse, found one of them attractive and asked him for their number? He couldn’t handle that.

“As enlightening as this conversation has been, I’m gonna head home.” Kyle threw a few bills from his wallet onto the counter and slid his beer over to Soap who greedily took it after he finished his second one not even a minute earlier. “I’ll see you boys later.”

“Hopefully with some news!” Soap called out to him as he exited the bar making Kyle shake his head laughing.

It didn’t take him long to make it back to the apartment and he couldn’t deny the way his heart sped up the moment he could see one of the lights in the apartment was on.

He didn’t call to tell you he was coming home like he got in the habit of doing. He wanted to surprise you this time especially when the last he spoke to you was almost a month ago and he told you he wasn’t sure when he would be coming back.

So after a few minutes of gathering himself, he grabbed his bag and headed for the door. It was oddly quiet when you were alone and he almost wondered if you were asleep and just forgot to turn off the lights.

“Y/n?” He called out into the quiet apartment.

“Kyle?!” Was what he heard back followed by a loud crash and glass shattering.

He dropped everything he was holding at the door and ran in the direction of the noise, completely forgetting about his boots he had yet to take off at the door.

All he knew was that you could be in danger or you could’ve been hurt and he felt his whole world came crashing down slightly.

For a moment it felt like his world all at once stopped moving and started spinning too fast. He felt sick.

“Y/n?!” He rounded the corner to the kitchen and saw you on the ground clutching your head. A few mugs were shattered on the floor around you. “What happened?”

“Kyle.” You breathed the moment you opened your eyes to look at him. You stared at him with such relief he felt like he may just collapse next to you. “Uh-I fell.”

“I see that. What were you doing?” He asked while he carefully helped you up and slowly maneuvered you away from the shattered pieces on the ground.

“Well I was just trying to make hot chocolate before you scared the absolute hell out of me.” You winced, one hand still clutching your head where he finally noticed some blood trickling down your wrist. “It’s not my fault you put all the good bugs so high up.”

“Good mugs?” He looked down at the glass and then to the cupboard. “You mean my mugs?”

“They’re the good ones.” You grumbled. “They hold more hot chocolate. I’m sorry for breaking them.”

He couldn’t help but laugh as he pulled your hand away from your head to examine the damage. “I don’t care about the mugs. I can get new ones but it looks like one hit you pretty hard. Let me help you get it cleaned up”

He ushered you towards the counter on the opposite side of the kitchen where he knew he had the med kit stashed. Without saying a word he grabbed hold of your waist and lifted you up to sit on the counter before he went to get the med kit and a washcloth.

“When did you get back?” You called out to him as he ran to the spare closet in the hall to grab one of the many wash clothes.

“Earlier today. I just got back from the bar with Ghost and Soap.” You couldn’t help the way your heart skipped at the mention of a bar. “But I just wanted to come home. I’m sure they’re still there.”

“No pretty ladies you wanted to impress with your amazing new dance skills?” You joked when he came back over to you to start cleaning the blood from your cut.

“Not at the bar, no. There’s one I’ve been trying to impress already.” You swallowed as you watched him work intently. His brows furrowed in concentration. “The cut doesn’t look too bad so you shouldn't need stitches but please if you need something moved from the top shelf just ask me.”

You nodded in acknowledgment and let him continue to work in silence. He was standing between your legs and the only noise was his occasional rummaging through the med kit.

He glanced down at you every now and then but you now seemed determined to not look him in the eye and he couldn’t help but frown.

His fingers work softly across the cut on your head making sure he wasn’t going to hurt you anymore then you already hurt yourself but he couldn’t help the way his mind wandered to ghost and soaps words.

“You okay?” You asked finally when you noticed the way his frown seemed to deepen by the minute.

“Hm?” Immediately he was smiling again and nodding like nothing happened. “Yeah don’t worry. Just focused.”

You hummed in understanding before the silence fell over you again. “Did everything go okay with work? You didn’t get hurt too bad did you?”

He laughed, “unless you count falling out a helicopter as bad then no.” He thought it was funny until he saw the absolute shock on your face and his words seemed to settle over him. “Just kidding. Just kidding that didn’t happen. I’m okay!”

“You fell out of a helicopter?!” You yelled, wincing when you accidentally moved which made his fingers slip against your cut.

“I’m fine! It was a joke I promise.” You didn’t seem to believe him but decided to let it go when he kept insisting. “Everything turned out okay. I'm just happy to be home. They’re all done.”

He moved his hands to rest on the counter you were sitting on, caging you in. He noticed the way your eyes flickered between both of his and he decided for once his team was right. He had to tell you. He didn’t know if he could live another day not knowing if you felt the same way.

“Kyle?” You asked when once again he went silent but this time he had a soft smile on his face while he looked down at you. It made your heart race.

“There’s something I need to tell you.” He said softly, reaching one hand up to move a stray piece of hair behind your ear before bringing it back down to the counter. “I tried to keep it to myself but I don’t think it’s possible for me to do that anymore.”

“Keep what to yourself?” You whispered, heart beating fast when he leaned down a little closer to you.

He looked into your eyes like he was searching for any sort of hesitation, any sort of sign that he should stop or pull back now. But he found none. He leaned in again, the memory of the two of you dancing while also this close came rushing to him again and he smiled slightly. “I think I’m in love with you.”

You looked at him in surprise. It was your turn to search for any sort of lie but you knew Kyle would never lie to you about something like that. “Really?” He nodded and you could feel his lips barely just touch yours before he pulled back a little like he was still waiting for you to reject him. “I think I’m in love with you too.”

And that was all he needed to hear before he closed the distance entirely. His lips finally smashing into yours while one of his hands went up to cup your cheek and the other to your waist to pull you closer to him. You were practically on the very edge of the counter, your legs wrapped around his waist to make sure you didn’t fall off entirely.

He kissed you like he was a starving man deprived of oxygen for the last 2 years. Every emotion he harbored for you was poured into that kiss as his hand tangled itself into the strands of your hair.

His lips felt softer than you imagined and it was better than anything your mind could come up with. Your hands found purchase on his chest as you tried to steady yourself. From this spot you could feel the way his heart was beating just as fast as yours.

When he finally pulled away he didn’t move far. His lips were still just a few centimeters away; he just moved far enough away so you could catch your breathe. He could feel you practically gasping and it made his hands wander to your thighs that were still wrapped around his waist.

He was mesmerized by the way your chest rose and fell with the deep breathes you took. The way your cheeks had the prettiest shade of pink dusting them. The way your eyes continued to look at him like he was the only thing you were seeing.

He was sure he looked the same to you. He knew right then that he would do absolutely anything for you and wouldn’t regret it a single bit.

“Well that’s definitely another way of getting a girl to fall for you.” You joked as you reached your arms up to circle around his neck and pull him closer. “But now you’re not allowed to show anyone else those dance moves.”

“I only ever wanted to learn for you anyways.” He pressed a quick kiss to your lips again. “Would you say you’re impressed?”

“Thoroughly.”

He laughed and pulled away from you after stealing yet another kiss. “Well let me get changed, then clean the glass and I can show you just how much I’ve improved.” He winked you at, smiling when he heard your laughter carry through the apartment

He guessed he owed his entire task force now.

#kyle garrick x reader #kyle gaz garrick x reader #call of duty x reader #cod x reader #mwii x reader #gaz x reader #kyle garrick imagine

[swampstew]

How aboutttt Fluff 'Simple Touches' with Trafalgar Law? if there's still room for requests

Hello Sto♥ Thank you so much for your patience while I was going through it. I hope this has all the fluff you wanted♥ You requested fluffy, simple touches and I give you [ Sleep ] falling asleep on the other’s shoulder

Oh Captain, My Captain Law

Warnings: None. Fluff and domestic stuffs. Word count: 711

Your shoulder became burdened with the heaviness of Law’s weary head. The two of you had been sitting on the couch in his room, reading. Well, had been reading. Law had been studying texts on gene splicing and you had been reading that book you’d been meaning to read but kept putting off because you never had the time.

It finally had its moment. It’s perfectly unbent spine had been creased while you read the first 10 chapters when Law had fallen asleep. With a quiet sigh, you folded the corner of the page and set the book aside.

Leaning back more comfortably, Law’s hat became displaced and you took it off. Your fingers brushed against his silky, black locks when you moved the puffy white hat, and you couldn’t help but touch them again, carefully running your fingers and weaving them between his strands.

Law let out a content sigh and his breathing deepened, and you took it as permission to continue at a slower pace.

If you were honest with yourself, it’s the first time you’ve seen Law look so at ease. Or so tired that he promptly passed out. Either way, his face looked free of conflict, free of scowling. The lines on his forehead gone, the tight clenching of his jaw also gone.

Your fingers ran down his face, grazing against the unshaven stubble along his jawline. Fingertips gently pressed against his chin as you eyed his lips. Pressed in a thin line like always, you smirked to yourself.

You’ve been with Law a few years now and it seemed like the only time he looked rested was when he was with you, and not just because he got actual sleep. You liked to think to yourself that you brought the chronically introverted man some peace. Always planning, always researching, Law worked surprisingly hard for a Worst Generation pirate that wasn’t busy conquering territories or otherwise naming himself King.

He wouldn’t tell you the whole truth of what he was presently trying to figure out – but that’s expected. Law’s a doctor, a man who respected science and all the steps involved. He wouldn’t reveal anything until he tested his theories and hypothesis and found conclusions. Good or bad results.

His lithe body gently stretched before he leaned into you some more. You turned your body towards his so he could settle into you at an incline that was better for his neck and spine alignment. Tucking his head where your shoulder and neck met, his hair lightly tickled you as he settled comfortably in your embrace.

Your chin sat on his head as you ruminated in the memories of your time together. The day you joined his crew, the length of time it took for him to open up to you, the day you confessed your feelings towards each other. So deep in your nostalgia you didn’t realize your arm moved to rest across his tattooed chest, fingers partially under the v-cut of his cotton t-shirt, hugging the man to your body.

You didn’t notice the sly smile on his face either. And you wouldn’t for another 8 minutes as you replayed memories, daydreamed of new ones, all the while stroking his scalp and tightening your hold on him almost reflexively from time to time.

Law didn’t say anything, not wanting to break the spell of tranquility the two of you were in. He was perfectly aware of how absent he’d been recently, and he wasn’t one to state the obvious so instead he chose to give in to his deepest desire. To rest with you. To be at ease, not interrupted, to live in a state of blissful quiet.

Damn the near inaudible groan he let out when your fingers slowly grazed his scalp in a delightful way.

“How long have you been up?” you asked him.

He scrunched his eyes, half hoping he could pretend but he was never that good an actor, “Never went to sleep actually. I just wanted to rest my eyes.”

“And your head, and your back, and your body,” you quip, hugging him.

“Well who am I to say no to such patient and loving arms.”

“If you wanted to cuddle, you could have said so.”

“Tch, pirates don’t cuddle.”

#trafalgar law #oh captain my captain mini event #trafalgar law x reader #trafalgar law x you #swampstew bedtime stories #swampstew #swampstew stories #trafalgar d water law #one piece fanfiction

[ssahotchnerr]

hiii katie!! 🤭💞

you said domestic aaron requests so i thought i’d send you something that’s been on my mind all day! so when you see aaron you don’t really take him for a guy who would sing along to taylor swift songs, or watch romcoms or like idk know stuff about astrology…but then during conversations he drops facts related to these kinds of things and the team is like “how does he know that” LMFAOO but it’s all because his girl (you 🥰) educates him on the daily 🥰🥹🥺

- fay <3

rom coms

fay !!! AHH if y'all have seen how to lose a guy in 10 days i hope you enjoy this 🤭 cw; bau!reader, established relationship, playful fluffy banter <3

on the rare occasion a case finished early, and the jet wasn't scheduled to leave until the next morning, you'd all be stupid not to take advantage of a night out within a different, new city. somehow, this time, all of you had ended up at a basketball game, per derek's suggestion. and while it wasn't your usual scenery for team outings, the change of atmosphere was nice.

and the current setting gave you the opportunity to poke fun at aaron, which you would never deny, either.

as the clock neared the end of the game, you turned away from your conversation with jj.

"hey." you nudged aaron, getting his attention. he leaned down slightly closer, allowing you to speak more directly into his ear so he could hear you clearly. the crowd was loud, and you were also on the side of him consisting of his bad ear. "wanna get me a soda?"

there was a mischievous look on your face, while aaron's fell into his signature expression. however, there was a playful glint present in his eyes. he straightened up his posture before speaking. "very funny."

you feigned disappointment. "so... no?"

"nope."

"aaron pleaseeee." you jokingly whined, your hand clasping around his forearm and tugging on it gently.

"is this your way of telling me you want us to break up?" aaron arched an eyebrow, his lips pursed upwards as he attempted to hold back a smile.

you snorted out a laugh, rolling your eyes. "yeah, you got me there."

"well sweetheart, i think we're well past the ten day mark. so unfortunately for you, this tactic isn't going to work."

you opened your mouth to respond, but jj's voice came out instead.

"what did he just say?"

the team's undivided attention was present on the pair of you, nothing but quizzical, or slightly horrified (morgan), expressions on their faces. even spencer had ceased explaining all the mathematical aspects of basketball to dave.

"if you're asking, i think you heard me."

"yeah no i heard what you said, i just can't believe you're the one that said it." jj stated, bewilderment still present.

"contrary to popular belief, i don't live under a rock." aaron answered nonchalantly, loud enough for the whole team to hear. his hand also found your hip, giving it a squeeze.

he doesn't live under a rock, thanks to you.

"never knew you were into rom coms, aaron." dave pitched in. aaron simply shrugged his shoulders.

"next you're going to tell me the two of you have a love fern in your apartment." emily cackled which resulted in more laughter amongst everyone, but that dissolved as the conversation quickly came to an end; everyone's attention refocusing on the conclusion of the game.

and while you had full clearance to tease aaron, they knew better than to push their limits.

"hey, did you really want one?" after a moment, aaron's voice closely entered your ear this time, a softness to it. "because i will-"

"no, i don't." you interrupted him with a small laugh, pressing your lips to his cheek and looking up at him with all the love in the world. "you'll catch the end of the game, don't you worry."

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fluff #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotchner imagine #criminal minds #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds drabble #aaron hotchner imagines #criminal minds fanfiction #hotch imagine #criminal minds x you

[rabbitsrams]

please omg write a part 2 to sweet domestic schlatt

i am going to expand on the morning routine part bc i genuinely cannot stop thinking about it

one small instance of suggestive stuff but it's mostly fluffy/sfw <3

your first time spending the night with each other. you slept over schlatt's dorm room, thankful that his roommate and other suitemates were away so you could be together in peace.

you woke up before him, relishing in the new yet familiar feeling of his arms around you. rubbing your eyes, you look to your right to see a still sleeping schlatt, mouth agape and softly snoring. you shift slightly to get a better look at him, but your movements wake him up.

his brown eyes glitter in the sunshine peeking through the window. he gives you a groggy smile as he stretches. "mornin'." his sleep-laced voice sends a slight shiver down your spine.

"hi," you hum, kissing him on the cheek. "you sound so sexy in the morning."

"oh, do i?"

"yeah," you giggle as he rolls you off of him and climbs on top of you. he starts to kiss down your neck, pushing your, his, shirt to the side to expose your collarbone.

"fuck, you're so pretty."

hand in hand, schlatt leads you to the bathroom. it's a bit messy, as you would expect, considering he lived with 3 other men. but schlatt had cleaned and cleared one of the sink areas for your use.

you're both silent as you complete your morning routine: brushing your teeth, washing your face, et cetera. you don't notice schlatt looking over at you for a moment, studying you as you smear facial cleanser all over your face, a spa headband pushing your hair back, fully concentrated in what you were doing.

not to be absolutely cheesy, but this was the moment that he knew he wanted to spend his entire life with you.

cut to your first morning at your new apartment. waking up together was nothing new to you, of course, but this morning was different.

you were at a new point in your relationship; searching for an affordable place, signing a lease together, buying furniture, moving everything in and finally spending the night there.

your bathroom is a lot more organized, considering this was your apartment and not a shitty college dorm. and yet it had that same kind of homey feel to it much like your current one. there was one big sink with your stuff on one side and his on the other.

you smile to yourself as you and schlatt go into your new bathroom. you never said it out loud, but you always loved doing your routine together. it was something simple and quite mundane, but it brought you together. all of your little moments led to this right here: the start of your new normal.

"have i ever told you how pretty you are in the morning?"

"yes, j, multiple times."

"you're extra pretty now, in our new house."

"what does that even mean?"

"dunno, you're just pretty. that's all."

you roll your eyes, playfully shoving your boyfriend. "come 'ere," you say, opening the camera app on your phone. you aim your phone at the large mirror in front of you, capturing schlatt with his toothbrush in his mouth as you grin with a thumbs up.

"i'm framing this."

"you better not!"

and yet the frame sits on his side of the bed.

#jschlatt x reader #jschlatt fluff #schlatt x reader #schlatt fluff #jschlatt imagine #jschlatt fanfiction #schlatt imagine #schlatt fic #schlatt fanfic #jschlatt x you #jschlatt x y/n #schlatt x you #schlatt x y/n #idk why i feel like schlatt is secretly the cheesiest mf ever #yall cant convince me otherwise #i hope this is good enough aaaa

[gilverrwrites]

Hello could you please do some captain boomerang headcanon fluff, I don’t see enough of it on here.

AN: I can and I will. Good fluffy vibes only today, however, if you would like a reality check, please watch the video linked at the end.

Rating: General (however, wanting for swearing)

Please remember: Everything you're worried about, is going to turn out ok.

Ko-Fi || Masterlist || Request Info

He’s not much for texting, much prefers sending voice notes. These can range anywhere from simple good night/good morning notes, the longest, most pointless, probably drunken rambles, jokes he stole came up with, or professions of love.

When he texts, it’s always in 90s/early 00s style and full of emojis that don’t quite mean what he thinks they do.

He’s not much for texting, much prefers sending voice notes. These can range anywhere from simple good night/good morning notes, the longest, most pointless, probably drunken rambles, jokes he stole came up with, or professions of love.

When he texts, it’s always in 90s/early 00s style and full of emojis that don’t quite mean what he thinks they do.

Cn’t w8 2 c 👀 u 🫵l8r 👄❣️🪃 X 🌫️ Gud nite mu 🫥 u4e lol 😜 🩵🪃 xXx RUOK 4 d8 l8r??? 🌷💦 CUL ❤️‍🔥🪃 X

Has your name saved in his phone as the most ridiculous nickname you can think of, probably also with a bunch of emojis.

Dependant on your personality, petnames would include a few of the following: Darl’, darlin’, babs, babes, baby (pronounced bah-bee), sweets, hon, peachy, lovey, peanut, or doll.

Whatever your least favourite is, he will use the most cause he loves winding you up.

Swears at you, a lot. But its affectionate.

He’s not used to people doing things for him, so he is massively grateful when you do like menial domestic labour for him.

You sewed up the hole in my jacket? You’re THE best, I can’t believe you would do that for me. You did my laundry? WTF? You didn’t have to do that (he’s been wearing the same unwashed boxers for 2 weeks, someone had to) how can I ever repay you babes? You cooked for me? (It’s literally a pot-noodle) You’re an angel, I’m not welling up, shut it.

He’s really good at like, enhancing 'easy' food. He’ll add egg and chives and stuff to his packet noodles, makes the best cheese and vegemite toasty, knows just how much oil and extra cheese to add to a frozen pizza, and has mastered box mix cupcakes. His favourite is chocolate.

Uses a 5 in 1 shower gel, if and when he showers, and you cannot tell me he doesn’t blast lynx africa and/or paco rabanne 1 million so he smells woody and spicy.

However, if you have fancy smelly products of you’re own, he will use them. Gonna treat himself with a good scrub and some large helpings of your shampoo and conditioner (this one’s got multiple products for their hair, posho!)

Doesn’t matter if you use products intended for a specific skin/hair type, it’s getting used.

As a nice bonus he likes doing it cause it means your smell lingers on him when you’re not together.

Won’t admit it but he also really likes it if you burn candles and/or incense.

If you’re close enough in size, he will steal your clothes. Especially socks cause he is always wearing holes into his own.

Gets all gooey and excited when you wear his clothes, especially if you’re small enough that they look oversized, and are visibly his.

If you’re inclined to wear flowy summer dresses, he’ll go feral. Also, a big fan of linen shirts/blouses and short shorts.

When he’s dressed causal he lives in shorts and filp-flops, even in the midst of winter. Or if he’s not leaving the house he’ll just wear his boxer shorts.

Is gone for long periods of time (prison, hiding out etc) so is very clingy when you’re back together, and doesn’t really have boundaries.

Will walk in on you in the bath shower to use the toilet, or to just sit and talk to you. If you ask him nicely, he will wash your hair. Might not do a good job, but he will do it. Has his arms wrapped around your waist at all times while you’re trying to do chores or are out shopping. If he wakes before you (a rare occurrence) he will just lay on his side, watching you sleep. Might get impatient and attempt to subtly wake you by gently brushing your side or nose, or gently shaking your body.

Normally sleeps way into the day, and snores, loudly. Often wakes with a hangover. And will practically beg you to make him a bacon an egg.  

Loves almost any and all brekkie food, bacon, egg, hash browns, pancakes, you name it.

Is not a cuddly sleeper. Like he can fall asleep cuddling, but he will start rolling around, splaying his arms out, kicking his legs. Huge bed hog.

Says his favourite films are action, gangster, or like bro style comedies. Think like: Road House, Indian Jones, Kill Bill, The Gentleman, Kiss Kiss Bang Bang, The Hang Over.

If you put on a horror, drama, or rom com, he will not watch it with you.

But he will find things to do in the general vicinity. Or straight up do the dad thing of like standing in the middle of the room with his arms crossed. If he’s not sat with you, he’s technically not watching it.

So like, which one is actually her dad? They don’t tell you but the writ- No no no, don’t tell me, I’ll figure it out, Don’t go in the basement, there’s never anything good in the basement, oh she’s only bloody gone and went in the basement! But… Barbie doesn’t love Ken. I’m not cryin, I just got allergies, shut up an’ watch your dumb girly film.

Has a stolen tattoo gun,wants to get matching tattoos, has pro for everyone of your cons. Ideally, he just wants names/initials in hearts, but will settle for more symbolic tattoos. Like a boomerang to represent him for you, and something similar for you.

Keeping any gift you’ve ever given him for life.

I made you a friends ship braclet. Eh, ya know its not my normal kinda jewellery. You don’t ha- No, fuck off, I’m gonna wear it forever.  

Would still love you if you were a worm. Hasn’t the foggiest what he would do with you. But he would love you.

Obviously gonna teach you how to use a boomerang. Even if you already know, he’s gonna show you the right way. Gotta make sure his bab is protected. (Don’t tell him that you find them impractical and are unlikely to ever use one when in need, he will sulk.)

Aforementioned video.

#captain boomerang x reader #captain boomerang imagine #captain boomerang hcs #digger harkness x reader #george digger harness x reader #gilverrwrites

[mysterious-moonstruck-musings]

Closed Position: Deconstructing Dieter Bravo

Closed Position Masterlist ||| Main Masterlist I did a Deconstructing Dieter Bravo series for Destiny & Deliverance, so I thought it might be fun to continue that tradition with Closed Position since this Dieter does have some interesting things going on that we can delve deeper into.

I had several people comment/dm me about two things after the first chapter that I think would be fun to discuss further. Those were of course, Dieter’s plant hobby and the fluffy menace hanging around his house.

To most, these two things may seem very random and unrelated. However, they really aren’t. They do serve a bigger purpose to the story…because of course they do. When do I ever not have deeper meaning behind something, right? 😏

Plant Dad Dieter

First, I have included some more Dieter aesthetic pictures above that I had saved. It's a whole ✨vibe✨. Second, I must thank @readingiskeepingmegoing for coming up with the new #PlantDadDieter hashtag… because it’s so on point. I’m totally going with it! 💜

On to the good stuff...what have we learned about Dieter after the first installment? I think we can safely identify three things: he spends a lot of time alone, he feels misunderstood, and he doesn’t appear to have any deep or meaningful relationships. This will be a theme that comes up a lot with him, especially starting in Week 2 when we open with him having a chat with his therapist.

How does this relate to plants, you ask? Let’s start with Dieter’s history…the man has never had a real relationship. He’s never connected with anyone, whether that be friend or significant other. He was a party boy that indulged in the physical pleasures of life while avoiding any real intimacy. Most of his relationships were based on sex and favors. We will worry about why he is this way later, but for now, just know that’s where he's at emotionally.

Dieter has never really had a bond with anyone or anything. Now that he is sober and realizing how alone he is, he’s seeking that connection any way he can and doesn’t even really realize it (yet).

Sure, being a plantsman does have perks as it is relaxing and can have a positive impact on one’s mental health. However, it’s causing Dieter to learn how to care about something - how to be selfless and nurturing with his time. He has to put in a lot of effort to keep everything alive and healthy and he quickly realizes that putting in that time and energy makes him happy. Also, the plants don't judge him or his past.

Now, for some fun stuff because some of you asked…

Does Dieter talk to his plants? He 100% talks to the plants. He doesn’t know if it actually does anything, but he figures it can’t hurt to try. It also helps him feel less alone as he does see them as living things. They do breathe, eat, and drink after all.

Does Dieter name his plants? I’m inclined to say that he names his favorites. All the others just have random nicknames that change based on their appearance. Like...the "thirsty dramatic bitch" that gets weepy and needs to be watered and turned in the sunlight daily.

Dieter’s Furry Squatter

And let the collective aww's be heard! 🤭

So, I pulled a few pics from Pinterest of what I envision Dieter's furry little visitor looks like. I see it as an adorably fluffy young Maine Coon kitty.

👉 Fun Fact: "The name 'Maine Coon' was adopted after the state of the breed's origin, Maine, and after the early belief that the cat was in fact the result of crossing between domestic breeds and raccoons." (from VioVet)

Funny story, I did not know that fact before choosing this breed. It looks like it was mean-to-be for our loveable trash panda. 😂

Now, I am sure you're asking; how does the cat relate to the plants? The cat serves the same purpose when we think about Dieter's relationships...or lack thereof.

Again, Dieter is craving companionship. He is still reluctant, but this little nugget will eventually become a loving companion for him. It's another avenue for him to create an emotional connection with something. He will learn how to care for the kitty and build a bond. Though the little menace can be a bit sassy, like the plants, it also doesn't judge Dieter by his past. What do you think Dieter should name it? I'm taking suggestions in the comments. 😉

In an odd way, the plants and cat do help Dieter grow as a person. It's baby steps in his personal growth journey. Honestly, as Katrina gets to know Dieter on a more personal level, these are two things that she absolutely loves about him, mostly because it's two things that are unexpected and show what a sweetheart he really is. She sees the good in him even if he can't see it himself.

That's it for your little extra bit of insight...until next time.

💜Mysty

Series Summary: Dieter Bravo, now sober, was looking to change his bad boy image after hitting rock bottom. His team hoped that having him join the nationally televised family friendly dance competition would be a good first step, if they can keep him out of trouble.

Katarina Stamos expected her last season as a professional dancer on Dancing with the Stars to go the same as it had for the past thirteen seasons. That all changed when she was partnered with the infamous Dieter Bravo.

Dieter and Katarina are reluctantly thrown into their partnership and must learn to work together to succeed in the competition. In the process they form a deeper connection beyond the dance floor that neither anticipated.

👉 Warnings: Themes dealing with intimate partner violence, alcohol abuse, and drug abuse. There will be fluff, tears, spicy language, and smut. This will be a slow burn. Read at your own risk. Dieter Bravo comes with his own warnings.

Closed Position Taglist: @secretelephanttattoo @titlee78 @maggiemayhemnj @legendary-pink-dot @morallyinept @survivingandenduring  @wannab-urs @harriedandharassed @hisandsnakes @misstokyo7love @readingiskeepingmegoing @runningmom94 @sin-djarin @cakipy-blog @missladym1981 @guelyury @weho2kcmo @alokaerza @girlofchaos @trulybetty @rhoorl @bitchwitch1981 @madnessofadaydreamer @darkheartgatita @jazzloveslatte @timpletance @musings-of-a-rose @samiamproductions @myloveistoolittle @for-a-longlongtime  @copperhalfcent @auteurdelabre @drewharrisonwriter @burntheedges @stevie75 @bunniboo0015 @quicax3 @jackie923 @sherala007 @pastelnap

*If your blog name is marked out, it would not let me tag you. You will need to change your visibility settings for that to work going forward.

#dieter bravo #dieter bravo fic #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fanfic #dancing dieter #plant dad dieter #closed position extra #closed position series

[hongthoven]

Hii!

I saw your requests are open, so I was wondering if I could request some cute and fluffy domestic stuff with Mingi? Or with Yunho even?

Or maybe Matz noticing that their s/o gets hate for being with the boys?

Whichever of these you are most comfortable 🥰

Hello ! 𖹭

Thank you for your request 𖹭 It isn't long and I haven't done fluff for a long while so pardon me if it doesn't fit your expectations, but here is a lil domestic!mingi imagine for you 𖹭 have a lovely day!

“Okay, think this is the last one” Mingi sighs, exhaustion in the tone of his voice as the last box drops to his feet with a loud thug — nothing too fragile, luckily, a bunch of books and random stationary stuff you couldn’t fit in any other boxes — and just like that, you are moving in with your boyfriend. 

It still feels surreal to be standing there in what is now your new place with its two bedrooms and a lovely view over the park you like to walk across, sometimes stopping when the warmth of a late afternoon sun calls for a well-needed break, a good book and some snacks. Although the walls are still empty and furniture needs to be put together, everything already feels like home. Starting with the man pulling you against his chest, both his arms around you as his chin rests above your head with a content sigh. 

“We did it, love— this is our home” the word hits you like thunder as you feel your heart grow twice its size at the sound of his voice, low and comforting as ever. Home. Precisely how you like to describe him. Through the highs and lows, over the many years you have spent together, Mingi has always felt like home to you, regardless of the place you would end up crashing to. No more ‘your place or mine’, no more missing him at night, no more waking up in the morning to find his side of the bed still cold and empty. All of this left in the past with nothing but a bright future ahead. 

As you both stand here in silence for a while, Mingi is quick to notice the shivers running down your spine, coldness hitting your skin from moving around all day and only now taking the time for some well-needed rest. Without a word, you watch as your boyfriend takes off his hoodie, motions for you to lift both your arms up so he can easily wrap you into it. The comfort it brings you is beyond anything you ever felt before as you feel instantly tucked into the familiar smell of him, a perfect mix of his favorite fragrance —nothing too fancy but spicy enough to locate him in a crowded room— and the natural scent of his skin. Within seconds, his fingers find a nest into your hair, your messy bun now messier than ever and lower than it originally was as Mingi starts to massage your scalp softly, almost forcing you to doze off into his chest as you close your eyes for a while, soothed by the sound of his beating heart. 

“Should we order dinner?” he asks as your stomach suddenly breaks the silence of the room with a brutal reminder of your last meal being hours away already. 

“Kinda necessary— all we have is an empty fridge and warm soda in a box somewhere” you barely mumble into his chest as Mingi can’t help but chuckle at the laziness of your tone. 

After a while, your boyfriend eventually convinces you to jump in the shower and get into some comfier clothes as he settles a few things in the living room. While the cabin feels much colder without him there, you cannot ignore how much more alive you feel as you step outside of the bathroom in your comfy clothes — one of Mingi’s oversized shirts, pretty much a dress for you, and sweatpants. 

“You cannot be serious” you laugh at the sight of him already setting up his gaming corner, surrounded by empty boxes and the expected mess that comes with it, although you’re nowhere near mad at the nerdy boy you’ve been obsessed with since high-school. Nostalgia hits you suddenly as you recall the afternoons spent at his place, playing video games when you were both still too shy to openly flirt until he eventually found the courage to come forward and kiss you. This thought only is enough to give you butterflies as you stumble across the boxes and make your way towards the love of your life, settling between his legs as he sits on the floor, hands already busy with his controller. 

“Table’s all set!” he chimes, almost too proudly as you grab a few fries from the take-away box to feed him first. 

“Good job, I might have to marry you” although your words are filled with sarcasm, you cannot miss the way Mingi fails to flinch even a little, eyes still locked on the screen as if this isn’t new information to him in the slightest. 

“Like you had other plans?” he jokes back, his lips twisting into a smirk while you spin just enough to meet his gaze, your own eyes filled with nothing but complete adoration. 

“What you starin’ at, stalker?” you feel him chuckle against your back, his voice vibrating in perfect sync with his chest as you fight the urge to shut him up with a kiss — but when you don’t, Mingi’s attention drifts from the screen to your face, pausing the game as he leans forward to melt into your lips, his palm resting against your jaw as you soften under his touch, fingers tightly wrapped into his sweater in hope to keep this kiss going until you’re both left gasping for air. 

“I fucking love you” Mingi barely growls against your lips, his teeth nibbling at your flesh while his fist wraps into your hair, deepening your embrace until your cheeks start to burn with the flames of your desire, only now increased with the idea of being home, at last. 

#fic request #mingi fluff #mingi x reader #ateez imagine #mingi imagine #domestic mingi

[gimmethatagustd]

venor (13) | kth + jjk

The barista at the university’s café keeps telling Jungkook not to come back, but Jungkook is too busy daydreaming about kissing the beauty marks on his face to be paying attention to his warnings.

○ Pairing: Tiger!Taehyung x Bunny!Jungkook

○ Rating: Explicit/18+

○ Genre: Hybrids, predator/prey, college au, strangers to lovers, slow burn, fluff, light angst, eventual smut

○ Word Count: 7,347

○ Warnings: Chasing, what the gworlies call self-lubrication aka slick, Taehyung’s got a big dick (in every universe imo), size difference, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, anal fingering, unprotected anal sex, scenting, marking, jealousy, pet names, more weird dick jokes

○ Notes: Another cliche, smutty, fluffy chapter, pls don't @ me. I also didn't proofread this so I'm sorry 😩

○ Post Date: April 7, 2024

○ Masterlist | AO3 Cross-Post

○ What was Jai listening to? The series playlist

Series Masterlist

Only one thing comes between Jungkook and Taehyung's relationship: winter break.

The end of the semester sneaks up on them quicker than Jungkook expects, despite Professor Jung's weekly warning that their Art History final project deadline is looming over their heads. School and work are conveniently forgotten when one is in love. The sun shines brighter, the air feels crisper, and more often than not, Jungkook wakes up with Taehyung's face snuggled in his neck and Taehyung's limbs flung over his body. He's such a big, bad tiger, yet he loves cuddles; it makes Jungkook's heart swell every time. 

Knowing that this domestic bliss will be severed by two months of Jungkook stuck in his parents' house, forced to give up his autonomy in exchange for suffering through their old-fashioned ways, creates a creeping sense of anxiety in his chest. He loves his parents, but life in Seoul has opened his eyes to a more adventurous, accepting, and worthwhile world than the rigid, closed-minded way his parents choose to live. Two months stuck in the house with them and away from Taehyung sounds like a nightmare.

"What're you thinking about?" Taehyung's morning voice rumbles in his chest and vibrates against Jungkook's. He speaks with his face still pressed to Jungkook's neck, so his question is muffled.

"Nothing."

"Don't lie to me, bun," Taehyung says, running his nose up and down Jungkook's neck, triggering a smattering of goosebumps in his wake. "You smell distressed."

Lately, Taehyung has started letting Jungkook in on his little secrets, like the fact that his predator hybrid senses allow him to more accurately sense changes in other hybrids' moods by their scent. Looking back, Jungkook can pinpoint moments when Taehyung seemed to know exactly how he felt, even when Jungkook thought he was being subtle. Then again, Jungkook has never been very subtle around Taehyung. He's not sure his crush on the boy would let him.

Jungkook's feelings are more than a crush now. Sometimes, he wonders if Taehyung can tell that he's in love with him. Suyun and Yoongi say it's obvious, but Jungkook still has trouble reading Taehyung's steady nature.

"I'm nervous about the end of the semester," Jungkook admits.

"Because of finals and stuff?"

"A little bit…"

Absent-mindedly, Jungkook massages Taehyung's head, sifting his fingers through the soft curls until he finds the fur of his striped ears to gently scratch them. In return, a soft purr hums from Taehyung's throat. Something about the sound and vibrations feels calming, maybe even healing.

They stay like this for a while, curled up against each other. Jungkook's eyes are closed, and his breathing is shallow as Taehyung thoroughly scents him. A kiss near his temple, one just below the corner of his jaw, another more of a suck of his skin than a kiss at the center of his throat. It's hard to focus on anything when Taehyung shifts, half his body lying on top of Jungkook, giving him access to the other side of Jungkook's neck. His breath blankets Jungkook's sensitive skin as he huffs a low, quiet laugh when his thigh brushes against Jungkook's hard cock.

They haven't had sex since the first time, not because of a lack of interest but because Jungkook wants to take things slow. This sudden interest in sex has left Jungkook shaken up a bit. It's so unlike anything he has experienced before that he's suddenly afraid of his own sexual desires. Taehyung made one joke about fucking like rabbits, and Jungkook has been self-conscious about his sex drive ever since.

"After we pick up our flower pots, we can go over the presentation?" Taehyung offers once he seems satisfied with his job of scenting Jungkook.

"I'll reserve a study room in the library."

While Jungkook gets his phone to make the online reservation through the university's library, Taehyung rolls off the bed. He lands on his feet, and Jungkook wonders if he's like a cat and always does. The thought makes him giggle, and he shrugs when Taehyung's head tilts and his ears swivel in confusion.

Snow blankets the ground in a dusty sheet. It may not be much now, but weather forecasts predict heavier snow in the coming weeks. Jungkook can't believe the year has gone by so quickly and figures it must be Taehyung's fault.

Unbothered by the cold weather, Taehyung pulls a thin white hoodie with the university's basketball team's logo over his t-shirt. His black tapered joggers are just as thin and poorly insulated, and Jungkook is sure that the matching basketball shoes Taehyung will probably wear when they leave won't be much warmer. Predators and their body heat. It makes Jungkook roll his eyes, even as his heart flutters when Taehyung opens the second drawer in his dresser where some of Jungkook's clothes permanently live now.

"Are you in a comfy mood or a cute mood?" Taehyung looks over his shoulder to see Jungkook still sprawled on the bed. His gaze runs along Jungkook's body, probably admiring his exposed legs and how soft he looks in one of Taehyung's baggy t-shirts that he often wears to bed.

"My comfy clothes are cute clothes," Jungkook pouts.

"Right, of course."

"You can pick out whatever you want me to wear."

Taehyung has great fashion on most days, but it's different from Jungkook's. Still, he does well choosing an outfit: light blue straight-leg jeans with pink hearts printed on them and a fuzzy white sweater that falls just enough to expose part of Jungkook's shoulder. How coy.

"Are you trying to tell me something?" Jungkook gives Taehyung his starry doe eyes, the most innocent look he can muster—not that it's particularly difficult. Jungkook is an angel.

"What?" Taehyung smiles, genuinely confused.

Jungkook could tell him now. Those three words are ready to burst out of him, a broken dam, a busted floodgate. Taehyung picked out pink hearts! Jungkook could tell him.

"Nothing." Jungkook stands on his tiptoes to wrap his arms around Taehyung's shoulders and nuzzle his neck. "You're just cute."

Jungkook will tell him later.

In the kitchen, Hoseok is reheating fried rice. He looks very domestic yet highly fashionable in his lavender matching silk pajama set. When Jungkook sits at the kitchen table, Hoseok’s face lights up. 

“Jungkook-ah! I didn’t realize you were here. Good thing I have a lot of leftovers.” 

Hoseok motions for Jungkook to grab one of the three bowls while he prepares a fourth one. Before Jungkook can ask him why he has made so much food, Jimin slinks into the room, rubbing his eyes with his fists.

“Good morning, Jungkook,” Jimin mumbles as he flops into one of the kitchen chairs. 

“Good morning, hyung.” 

Jimin is disheveled, his hair sticking up so high that it nearly hides his ears, and his t-shirt wrinkled. Jungkook can’t tell if he’s wearing shorts under his shirt, so he avoids looking, just in case. The shirt is definitely one of Hoseok’s; it has the university’s basketball team’s logo. All the players got one. Jungkook has worn Taehyung’s before.

Hoseok brings Jimin a bowl of rice, pausing to kiss the top of his head before placing it on the table. It’s cute how Jimin purrs, even if it’s brief because he seems to remember that Jungkook is there and abruptly stops, cheeks aflame. 

Making it clear that he’s minding his own business, Jungkook eats while scrolling through his phone and wonders if everyone else knows that Jimin and Hoseok are together, and perhaps Jungkook has been oblivious this whole time. Another part of him wonders if his poor Yoongi hyung knows, too. It's obvious that Yoongi has a crush on both of them, even if he yells at Jungkook to shut up whenever he tries to talk about it. Honestly, the yelling is what makes it so obvious. 

“How long have you been up, hyung?” Jungkook asks Hoseok, who seems chipper and wide awake compared to Jimin’s zombie stare as he eats. 

“For a few hours, but not too long. Yoongi hyung’s work alarm woke me up at the ass crack of dawn–” 

“Hyung!” Jimin snaps, suddenly very alert. He gives Hoseok a pointed look, but Jungkook’s head is already reeling. 

“Yoongi was here?” Taehyung asks, causing the other three men to jump in their seats.

“Shit, Taehyung, you can’t do that to me,” Hoseok whines with his hand pressed over his heart. “I’m too fragile.” 

With a snort, Taehyung grabs some rice and a carton of strawberry milk. Jimin curls his upper lip at the food combination when Taehyung sits beside him. 

“Why was Yoongi here?” Taehyung talks through a mouthful of rice and Jungkook knows he’s down bad because Taehyung is so cute. 

When neither Hoseok nor Jimin answers his question, Taehyung arches an eyebrow at Jungkook. Hoseok is pink in the face and stares at his rice. Jimin glares at Hoseok, mid-chew. 

“Are the three of you fucking?”

“Taehyung!” Jimin snaps, redirecting his glare. 

Jungkook keeps his eyes on Hoseok, the one who is the worst at telling lies. That’s probably why he hasn’t said or done anything. 

With a grin, Taehyung shoves more rice into his mouth. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

Jungkook immediately opens his text messages with Yoongi and demands to know what’s going on, just as Hoseok tries to grab his phone. 

“Jungkook-ah, you shouldn’t bother him while he’s at work!” Hoseok insists, but Jungkook scoots away from the table before Hoseok can reach him. 

“Call him, bun,” Taehyung instigates things and gets a kick to the shin from Jimin.

There is no way Yoongi could possibly hide something like this from Jungkook! It’s hurtful! After everything he confided in Yoongi regarding Taehyung, Jungkook gets this in return? Unbelievable. 

“I’m leaving.” Jimin grabs his bowl and stomps out of the kitchen, slamming Hoseok’s bedroom door behind him. 

Satisfied by the mess he’s created, Taehyung leans back in his chair and sips his strawberry milk. 

“This makes a lot of sense, actually, since male snake hybrids have two dicks…” Taehyung grins when Hoseok slaps him on the arm. 

“Oh, shut the fuck up, Taehyung.”

Jungkook looks up from the long text message he’s crafting to Yoongi and stares hard at Hoseok. 

“Hyung…”

“A boy for each dick.”

“Taehyung, I swear to god.”

“What?” Taehyung props his elbows on the table and leans forward with a dark look. “You told Jungkook that I have a cheese grater dick. I’m just returning the favor by explaining your anatomy. So how do you do it, hyung? Do they both just climb on top–” 

“Alright, that’s enough!” Hoseok pushes himself away from the table and nearly flips his chair backward. Like Jimin, Hoseok grabs his bowl and leaves the kitchen, giving Taehyung his middle finger on the way out. 

Once Hoseok’s bedroom door is slammed shut again, Jungkook turns to Taehyung. 

“Does Hobi hyung really…” 

Taehyung’s devilish grin makes Jungkook’s stomach flip. 

“Nah, he doesn’t. That’s a myth, too. I just wanted revenge.” 

“I really hate you for putting that image in my head…” Jungkook grumbles as he finishes his 5 paragraph essay to Yoongi. It’s impossible to genuinely be mad at Taehyung, though, especially when his laugh brings so much warmth to Jungkook’s chest. 

Considering their eventful morning, Jungkook thinks he worked up enough courage between eating breakfast and their short walk to the Art academic building to confess to Taehyung. It’s the third time they’ve visited the studio together, the second being when Taehyung taught Jungkook how to glaze his flower pot, Jungkook choosing a shiny mix of pink and beige to paint the entire thing. Unsurprisingly, Taehyung went with darker colors, swirls of navy blue and forest green. Since glazes are tricky in the kiln, it may be surprising what their flower pots look like now that they’ve been re-fired.

Everyone says the third time’s a charm, but this third time in the studio is a nightmare when another person falls in line with Jungkook and Taehyung as they walk down the hall toward the studio doors. For once, Jungkook thinks he’d like to catch a break. First, it was Byungchul attempting to ruin his relationship with Taehyung; now, it’s Ten’s annoying habit of showing up at the most inconvenient times.

“Hey, Taehyungie hyung,” Ten sneaks up beside Taehyung and squeezes his bicep, the one Jungkook isn’t clinging to. He leans forward to give Jungkook a toothy smile. “And hello, Jungkook-ah. What are you guys up to? Going to the studio?”

Obviously, they’re going to the studio, Jungkook thinks as they reach the only door at this end of the hall. Where else would they be going? He wants to sass Ten, but his parents raised him to be polite, so he can’t find it in him to answer Ten’s question.

“Mhm,” Taehyung hums as he holds the studio’s door open for Jungkook and Ten. “Jungkookie and I are just here to pick up some projects we worked on a few weeks ago.”

For a moment, Jungkook’s heart plummets when Taehyung pulls his arm out of his grasp, but he smiles once Taehyung holds his hand instead. Leaving Ten to put on an apron and prep for whatever he’s working on, Taehyung leads Jungkook to a little side room where the kiln is. Their projects are in the bottom of the machine to rest and cool for a few days. About a dozen other projects are resting with their flower pots.

Jungkook lets Taehyung take theirs out, too worried about knocking things over to try getting on his tiptoes to reach inside the kiln himself.

“Yours came out so pretty, bun,” Taehyung observes, gently passing the flower pot into Jungkook’s hands. “You did fucking great for your first time sculpting.”

The flower pot is pretty, just as shiny and easy on the eyes as Jungkook wanted it to be. The pink and beige hues will nicely complement whatever green plant he chooses to put in it. Taehyung’s end product is equally as pretty. The colors remind Jungkook of the sea on a stormy day, and he thinks they fit Taehyung well.

Taehyung carries his flower pot in the crook of his arm and fumbles to pull his phone out of his pocket, smiling through his struggle as Jungkook giggles at him. 

“Let me take a picture.”

Jungkook holds his flower pot next to his face and side-eyes it, raising his eyebrows and pouting with goofy, puckered lips.

“Why are you so cute?” Taehyung asks, but Jungkook knows the picture is likely terrible quality. The kiln room is tiny, leaving little space for Taehyung to take a proper picture that isn’t too close-up, and the lighting is dim. Still, Taehyung looks at his phone like he’s just photographed something award-worthy.

“Bunnies are naturally cute,” Jungkook bites his lip in a hesitant smile when Taehyung leans into him.

“You’re the cutest bunny I’ve ever seen.”

“That’s an exaggeration.”

Taehyung tilts his head slightly to the side and bumps his sharp nose against Jungkook’s button nose. His breath is hot against Jungkook’s face, and it comes out in little puffs as he laughs at Jungkook’s squirming.

“What’re you doing?” Taehyung bumps their noses again and tries to press his lips against Jungkook’s, but Jungkook wiggles away.

“You’re making me nervous!”

“How?”

Their teeth click against each other, Taehyung laughing and Jungkook giving a scrunched bunny smile. Jungkook doesn’t know why he’s so giggly and nervous, but it might be because he’s in a tight spot with the boy he loves and can’t hold still with so much affection swelling inside him. Taehyung is suffocating him in the best way.

Rising up on his toes, Jungkook kisses Taehyung, something soft and sweet. Jungkook rarely initiates kisses, but ever since he and Taehyung became official, he’s felt more confident in seeking the affection he craves. It pleases Taehyung, too. When Jungkook pulls away, he leaves a boxy grin on Taehyung’s face.

“Baby,” Taehyung whispers with his fingers hooking in Jungkook’s belt loops to pull him closer. 

“Yeah?” 

The term of endearment makes Jungkook’s soul light up. His soul may even fly away, lift off, and soar to heaven when Taehyung’s cheeks turn pink, and he nibbles on his bottom lip with rare nervousness. They need to be more careful about being touchy, giggly messes while holding their precious ceramic creations.

“I know I don’t always say the right things, but I wanted you to know—”

“What are you guys doing in here?” Ten flings the door to the kiln room open, momentarily blinding Jungkook from how brightly the studio’s lights shine compared to the dim lighting in the kiln room. “Professor Choi won’t like students hooking up next to expensive equipment.”

“Oh, like you haven’t,” Taehyung teases Ten, and a strange part of Jungkook gets annoyed that it doesn’t make Ten blush or appear flustered. Instead, Taehyung’s teasing seems to encourage Ten’s obnoxious behavior.

Shrugging, Ten gives Taehyung a coy look and says simply, “Maybe. Maybe not.”

Jungkook wants to wipe that smug look off Ten’s face! How, he doesn’t know, but he certainly wants to. Resisting the instinctual urge to stamp his feet, Jungkook spins around to look Ten in his piercing eyes.

“Don’t worry, last time Taehyung bent me over and fucked me on that table,” Jungkook points to the table Ten is using to work on his latest project, “So no broken expensive equipment.”

Twisting to the side, Taehyung violently coughs into his elbow. Cocky satisfaction buzzes through Jungkook, pleased that he elicited not only a strong reaction from Ten, whose face turns bright red, but from Taehyung as well.

“Well,” Taehyung exhales loudly once he can speak again, “We’ll see you around…”

Ten nods and avoids either of their gazes, quickly turning around to stare at his work table. Jungkook sincerely hopes he can’t get the image of Taehyung fucking Jungkook out of his head and that he has to move his project because of it after they’ve left.

“Bun, what the hell was that!” Taehyung exclaims once he has pulled Jungkook into the hallway.

Batting his eyes, Jungkook smiles sweetly at Taehyung and cradles his flower pot to his chest.

“A little lie never hurt anyone.”

“I…” Taehyung lets out a disbelieving laugh. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard you talk like that before.”

He hasn’t. Jungkook smirks and shrugs; there’s nothing more to say.

Shaking his head, Taehyung squeezes Jungkook’s hand in his and leads him out of the building. He mutters about how Jungkook has turned into some kind of menace since he met him and wonders if this is somehow his fault. All Jungkook can do is laugh because Ten got what he deserved. It’s rare now that Jungkook can fluster Taehyung, so he celebrates the small victories whenever possible.

Never mind that the fake scenario Jungkook cooked up for Ten is kind of hot…

Jungkook keeps that thought buried in the back of his mind as he and Taehyung drop off their flower pots at Taehyung’s dorm in exchange for their backpacks. The library study room Jungkook reserved is next on their agenda for the day. Much of Jungkook’s time with Taehyung is spent not doing their school assignments, so he’s determined to keep them on track. They only have a handful of standard classes before final exams begin and final projects are due. If there ever was a time to get their shit together, it would be now.

Luckily, Jungkook and Taehyung are strong students when they aren’t together. Despite his cool guy persona, Taehyung takes school very seriously. Like Jungkook, Taehyung is motivated by the desire to perform well for his parents, which is a sign of respect for the sacrifices they made to get him a good education. Jungkook’s motivation comes with a twinge of fear that he will disappoint his parents if he doesn't perform well. Unfortunately, that comes with the reality of having strict parents.

The thing is, their parents aren’t here to encourage or scold them. Jungkook finds it easy to become distracted by Taehyung’s presence, even when all they’re doing is sitting across from each other while they work on assignments, Jungkook working on some code on his laptop and Taehyung sketching a design for his final sculpture project. Taehyung’s fingers are pretty curved around his pencil. When Taehyung looks up at him through his curly bangs, Jungkook feels his stomach dip with a sensation that flirts with the line between anxiety and arousal.

After a while, hunger replaces the strange sensations in Jungkook’s stomach, gnawing and gurgling at him. Since they started their day late, it's well past lunchtime, but Jungkook is determined to run through their Art History presentation before they leave the library.

“Can you stop looking at me like that?”

Taehyung squints at Jungkook from behind a podium in the front of the room. Their presentation is projected on the whiteboard behind him, skipped ahead to his part. Rigid, his face scrunched into a frown, he looks more awkward than Jungkook has ever witnessed him.

“Looking at you like what?” Jungkook asks with a smile. He sits on the table and swings his legs because they don’t touch the floor.

Irritated, Taehyung’s tail swishes back and forth, curling around the outside of his ankles with each whipping motion.

“I don’t know, just don’t look at me.”

Biting his bottom lip, Jungkook muffles a giggle as Taehyung reviews his project notes scrawled on a wrinkled piece of paper lying on the podium. Never would he have guessed that extroverted, charismatic Taehyung is afraid of public speaking.

“Taehyung…”

“What?” Taehyung frowns. “Jungkook, I’m serious, it’s not funny.”

Jungkook isn’t bothering Taehyung on purpose. He just can’t get over how precious he looks, stiff-limbed and pouty, with a light pink hue blooming across the honey-gold skin of his cheeks.

There’s a lot that they don’t know about each other. Rather than being discouraged by that, Jungkook finds each new bit of information learned a blessing. How wonderful is it to learn new things about someone you love? He gets to continuously discover Taehyung, just as Taehyung gets to learn more “Jungkook lore,” as he calls it. They’re young; they have so much time to evolve and discover new things about themselves, together.

Maybe Jungkook is naive. Maybe he’s falling deep because Taehyung is his first boyfriend, and no one finds true love in their first relationship. As he hops off the table to stand on his tiptoes in front of Taehyung with his arms around his neck, Jungkook decides that he doesn’t care about any of that. He doesn’t care that he’s young, naive, and inexperienced. He doesn’t care that he and Taehyung aren’t supposed to be together.

Jungkook will tell him what he’s been wanting to tell him for quite some time, and he will do it now.

“You’re going to do an amazing job,” Jungkook insists, pulling Taehyung into a tight hug.

“I’m gonna get up there and forget everything.”

“If you freeze, I’ll do the talking. You know I’m good at that!”

Jungkook hums when Taehyung’s hands wrap around his waist to tug him flush to his body. They fit together so well, with Taehyung strong enough to support Jungkook when he feels like he’ll turn to mush from how gently Taehyung holds him. The feeling only grows stronger when Taehyung bows his head to tuck his face against Jungkook’s neck and tickles his skin when he inhales deeply.

“Baby,” Taehyung whispers, his lips tracing down Jungkook’s neck. Jungkook’s body grows hot from the smooth and deep sound of Taehyung’s voice.

“Yes?”

Taehyung’s next inhale trembles. He tightens his hold on Jungkook’s waist and presses a kiss to the corner of Jungkook’s jaw before pulling back far enough to look Jungkook in the eyes.

“I love you,” Taehyung says with a timid smile.

He watches Jungkook’s expression with attentive eyes that glow a warm amber far more comforting than the fluorescent lighting in the study room. They shift between focusing on Jungkook’s eyes and his parted lips. Leaving Taehyung waiting must be torture. Jungkook doesn’t mean to prolong the suspense or make Taehyung reconsider admitting his feelings, but he can’t formulate words. Blood rushes to Jungkook’s head, forcing his heartbeat into his eardrums as it pounds so frantically that Jungkook feels lightheaded.

“I wanted to say it first,” Jungkook blurts out, his tone breathy. He's clearly overwhelmed by the slew of emotions flooding him.

“What?” Taehyung laughs, “You wanted to say you love me before I said it to you?”

Jungkook nods, still feeling out of breath.

Taehyung loves him. Taehyung loves him, and he said it first. Jungkook wasn’t even sure if Taehyung would say it back, but he said it first.

“So, you love me?” Jungkook nods, but Taehyung clicks his tongue. “I wanna hear you say it, bun.”

Taehyung’s timid smile grows into a confident and boxy one. It makes butterflies emerge in Jungkook’s stomach because that look is for him.

“I love you, Tae,” Jungkook whispers against Taehyung’s mouth before he leans in to nibble on Jungkook’s bottom lip.

“I love you so much, baby.”

Taehyung speaks in between kisses that feel like they’ll bruise. Jungkook can hardly keep up as Taehyung leans in further, nearly bending Jungkook backward as he bites and sucks his lips, occasionally shoving his tongue in Jungkook’s mouth and coaxing Jungkook to share his passion. It feels rushed initially, Taehyung’s hands slipping beneath Jungkook’s sweater to squeeze his waist and force him to grind against his body. But Taehyung’s mouth is slow as it leaves Jungkook’s to trail kisses along his jaw instead and eventually drops to suck on the skin where his scent gland is.

“Tae,” Jungkook moans and digs his fingers in Taehyung’s curls to hold him in place as Taehyung laps at the invisible spot where his scent gland is, licking and swirling the smooth skin until all that surrounds them is the sweet, floral smell of Jungkook’s arousal.

The burning desire pulsing through Jungkook’s body deepens when Taehyung scrapes his teeth against his skin. They could mate right now. Taehyung could bite him, permanently marking him with the scarred puncture of his teeth in his neck so everyone would know that Jungkook belonged to him. It would hurt terribly, but Jungkook wants it. They’re in love; why should they deny what their instincts tell them to do, even if tiger hybrids aren’t supposed to mate with bunny hybrids?

The desire to submit to Taehyung is so strong that it scares Jungkook, so he quickly tugs on Taehyung’s hair to pull him away from his neck.

When Jungkook meets Taehyung’s gaze, he understands why he’s so overcome with desire and heat, why his mind is telling him to do things he usually doesn’t. One look at Taehyung’s dark eyes with dilated pupils, and Jungkook knows.

“Bun,” Taehyung’s call is rough, nearly a growl.

Jungkook doesn’t listen to him. He twists from Taehyung’s grasp and nearly knocks over a chair to reach his backpack. Shoving his laptop and planner inside, Jungkook doesn’t bother checking what Taehyung is doing. He throws the study room’s door open and rushes down the hall. Conveniently, they’re on the ground level, making it easy for Jungkook to slip out of the front doors. The cold afternoon air paralyzes Jungkook’s lungs and cools his blood. He’s breathing so hard that he’s nearly hyperventilating. Each inhale hurts, but the situation thrills him. All he can think about is running. He has to find somewhere to hide. Instincts tell him to go home, but his heart urges him toward Taehyung’s apartment.

Campus clears out on snowy days. Very few people go outside on the weekends, so Jungkook has little trouble weaving through people, taking the sidewalks between the predators’ side of campus and the coed middle grounds. Despite Jungkook’s hurried pace, nearly a light jog, he doesn’t draw much attention to himself with the hood of his coat pulled over his head to hide his ears. The hood prevents him from seeing if Taehyung is catching up to him, but he’s too focused on getting away to check.

Something about the prickling of the hairs on his forearms and the back of his neck, despite being protected from the cold, makes Jungkook think that Taehyung is near. He feels like he’s being watched, crept upon. Reaching the dorm, his heart falls into his stomach when he belatedly remembers that he can’t get inside. His keycard only gives him entrance to prey hybrid dorms.

He could wait for someone to exit the building and quickly slip inside after them, but he can't get into Taehyung’s apartment unit unless Hoseok is home! But Jungkook really hopes Hoseok isn’t home.

Before Jungkook can panic about what to do, firm hands spin him around and shove him against the side of the building. His backpack protects him from hitting the wall, but he still gets the air knocked out of him.

“Think you can run away from me, bun?” Taehyung’s hands slide from Jungkook’s waist to palm his ass, squeezing it when Jungkook gasps.

“N-No,” Jungkook stutters when one of Taehyung’s hands slides underneath his coat to play with his fluffy tail.

“You like riling me up.”

Jungkook does. He likes it when Taehyung towers over him, his amber eyes turn dark, and his smooth voice turns gravelly. He likes the prickle of fear that heightens his senses when Taehyung gets like this and how it triggers something inside Jungkook that he’s never felt before — even if it’s unknown and scary.

“I told you I love you, and you ran away from me,” Taehyung growls against Jungkook’s throat, and Jungkook realizes how bad that looks.

Taehyung has gotten like this a handful of times before. Each time, his affection for Jungkook or his desire to protect him triggered the almost feral switch in his personality. Jungkook shouldn’t have left Taehyung alone after he’d been so brave by confessing his love.

“I’m sorry, Tae. I didn’t mean to.”

“Why did you do it?” Taehyung sounds genuinely hurt, and Jungkook’s heart breaks.

“I got scared.”

Taehyung whines and shoves his face into Jungkook’s shoulder.

“Not of you!” Jungkook quickly reaches for Taehyung’s ears, scratching them and playing with the curls surrounding them. “Not you, Tae. I was scared of… myself and how I reacted.”

“Don’t understand,” Taehyung murmurs. The hand that had been playing with Jungkook’s tail is now gripping his throat so Taehyung can tilt his neck to scent him.

They’re doing this in public. Few people have ventured outside, but they’re in the open, easily seen even by the predator hybrids in their dormitories. Jungkook’s mind is so foggy with the comforting pleasure of Taehyung’s scent mixing with his and the lust that shoots through him every time Taehyung squeezes his ass to coax his hips to grind against his.

“I want things,” Jungkook says with a shudder rippling through his body when Taehyung gently bites his neck.

Taehyung groans impatiently, “What?”

“To, um,” Jungkook feels his face heat up when Taehyung steps back to look at him. He’s never felt more embarrassed in his life. “Submit… to you…” he whispers the rest and is unable to look Taehyung in the eyes. As a predator hybrid, Taehyung will know what Jungkook means, likely even more than Jungkook understands himself.

“Fuck.”

Jungkook’s legs feel like jelly when Taehyung tugs him through the dormitory’s front doors. He trips up the stairs, relying on Taehyung to keep him from falling as they make their way to his apartment. With a face hardened by determination, Taehyung doesn’t even let Jungkook take off his shoes once they stumble into the entryway of his apartment. He kneels to pull Jungkook’s boots off while Jungkook unzips his coat. They must be loud, stomping, breathing heavily, and Taehyung throwing shoes into the corner, because Hoseok peeks around the corner from the living room.

“Hey guys! What’s—”

“Hyung, I’m gonna fuck Jungkook right now,” Taehyung interrupts and both Hoseok and Jungkook’s eyes widen at how explicit and blunt he is. “So if you don’t wanna hear it, you should leave.”

“Oh.” Hoseok watches as Taehyung grabs Jungkook’s wrist and leads him down the hallway.

Sorry, Jungkook mouths, afraid to hurt Taehyung’s feelings if he says it out loud. Despite being bossed around by a very demanding Taehyung, Hoseok simply grins.

“Taehyung, I can’t believe you kicked Hobi hyung out,” Jungkook playfully scolds Taehyung once his bedroom door is closed. His giggles die when Taehyung grabs him by the front of his sweater and pulls him toward the bed.

“No offense, but I don’t care about hyung right now.”

A bit of clarity has returned to Taehyung’s features. His pupils aren’t as dilated, and his voice is still deep but no longer distorted. The tingle of power radiating from him still exists, though, keeping Jungkook’s skin hot and fear in his chest.

“Okay,” Jungkook nods and lets Taehyung pull his sweater over his head.

Taehyung quickly removes the rest of Jungkook’s clothes, replacing them with kisses covering each strip of exposed skin as he tugs off his jeans. All the attention makes Jungkook shy. This being only the second time he’s been intimate with Taehyung, Jungkook feels like he still doesn’t know what to do as Taehyung kisses him and guides his hands to the waistband of his joggers, encouraging Jungkook to pull them down. Jungkook is timid with each brush of his fingers against Taehyung’s skin. He admires how toned his body is, naturally lean as a predator hybrid, with muscles that Jungkook has to work to get.

“Bun,” Taehyung murmurs against Jungkook’s lips as he slips his fingers through his silky, dark hair and lightly tugs. “Are you gonna submit to me?”

The gentle yet dirty question makes Jungkook whimper despite his embarrassment at being reminded of his confession. He opens his eyes when Taehyung encourages him to tilt his head back by lightly pulling his hair. Even though Taehyung is speaking and behaving more like himself, there’s still a wild look in his eyes.

“Y-Yes,” Jungkook nods, and Taehyung slowly lets go of his hair.

“Good bun. Let me see.”

Kneeling on Taehyung’s bed, Jungkook slowly eases himself down onto his forearms, keeping his upper body low to the bed and his ass up. He’s been in this position before with Taehyung, but something feels different about it now. Perhaps it’s because this isn’t just a quick fuck. Love is involved this time. Maybe that’s naive and cliche, but Jungkook feels it when Taehyung runs his hands along his back. 

“Relax, baby. I’m gonna take care of you.” 

Taehyung presses his thumbs into the muscles of Jungkook’s back, where he must feel knots and points of tension, massaging Jungkook until he’s a puddle on the bed. Taehyung is always taking care of Jungkook. Part of Jungkook feels bad; all he’s done is give Taehyung a handjob. He’s still shy and unsure about what to do, but it doesn’t seem like Taehyung cares. 

To adjust Jungkook’s position, Taehyung grabs his hips and pulls him back until he’s kneeling at the edge of the bed, allowing Taehyung to stand behind him. Jungkook falls forward even more when Taehyung stands between his legs so he can spread Jungkook’s knees as wide as he wants.

“Do you always get this wet, or is it just me?” Taehyung asks as he rubs his fingers around Jungkook’s rim. Jungkook doesn’t turn around to look at him, but he can hear the cocky attitude in his tone, and it makes him even wetter.

“Just you,” Jungkook moans when Taehyung squeezes his hip and presses two fingers inside him. 

His response isn’t a lie to stroke Taehyung’s ego; Jungkook has never even cum more than once on his own. Something about Taehyung brings out this needy, desperate, depraved version of Jungkook. Taehyung is slow as he fucks Jungkook with his fingers, twisting and crooking them so they hit his prostate with each thrust. He massages it, pressing hard enough to make Jungkook’s legs shake, before pulling back again.

“You’re even wetter than last time.”

Jungkook hopes Hoseok really did leave because his moans grow louder as Taehyung uses his free hand to reach around Jungkook and squeeze his cock.

“Is it because I love you?” Taehyung asks softly against the nape of Jungkook’s neck when he leans over him and rolls his palm over the head of Jungkook’s cock. “Is that why you’re so wet, baby?”

Jungkook lets out a breathy whine and tries to push back against Taehyung’s fingers when he stops moving them. 

“Oh, it is,” Taehyung grins against Jungkook's shoulder, his teeth pressed into his skin.

“Taehyung, please.”

It’s not fair that Taehyung can read Jungkook like this. It makes Jungkook’s face heat up, especially when it’s obvious how his body reacts to Taehyung’s teasing. 

Kissing Jungkook’s nape, Taehyung’s lips follow his spine until he reaches his tail, skipping over that and leaving a kiss on each cheek. His hot breath and soft lips tickle, and Jungkook almost giggles until he feels Taehyung slip his cock between his cheeks. Taehyung grinds against him, slicking up his cock and making Jungkook moan every time the head of his cock catches against Jungkook’s rim. 

“You sound so pretty, bun,” Taehyung praises as Jungkook chants his name between breathy ah, ah, ah’s. “You look pretty, too, like this. I love seeing your gorgeous face, but…” 

Jungkook jolts forward with a moan when Taehyung slaps his ass, making the muscle jiggle. The sting shocks Jungkook, and the pleasure that comes from it. His weak whimpers must encourage Taehyung to do it again because he slaps Jungkook twice more in the same spot, each hit slightly harder than the previous. 

“Taehyung, please, please, just f-fuck me.��� Jungkook might be an independent, confident person outside of the bedroom, but he isn’t above begging when Taehyung’s teasing him and torturing him. 

“Alright, baby, I’ll give you what you want,” Taehyung chuckles, and Jungkook’s face feels like a wildfire. 

A hiccuped sob tumbles from Jungkook’s chest when Taehyung slowly sinks his cock inside him. The position lets Taehyung reach deeper than he had before. It feels strange, and Jungkook panics for a moment when Taehyung squeezes his hips with both hands. 

“Tae,” Jungkook leans on his forearms and twists his head to look back at Taehyung. 

“Hmm?” 

Taehyung looks gorgeous, with a healthy glow and bright eyes, even while wild. The veins in his arms are raised, and his biceps flex when he squeezes Jungkook’s hips to guide him back onto his cock. 

“It’s a lot,” Jungkook moans at Taehyung’s first real thrust. 

“I’ll be careful, baby,” Taehyung runs his palm up Jungkook’s back, soothing him with his gentle touch. “If it hurts, tell me, okay?”

Nodding, Jungkook lets his head hang as Taehyung thrusts into him again. The thrusts start slow, Taehyung building them up until he’s properly fucking into Jungkook with more power. He digs his fingers into Jungkook’s hips and pulls him down on his cock to meet each thrust.

They’re messy and loud, the wet slap of Jungkook’s ass against Taehyung’s body a steady beat to Jungkook’s loud moans. He can’t keep quiet, can barely keep himself grounded. Every drag of Taehyung’s thick cock against his walls makes Jungkook’s head spin. 

“You good, bun?” Taehyung grunts, adjusting his angle to make sure he hits Jungkook’s prostate each time he fucks into him. 

Unable to speak, Jungkook hums, sounding more like a needy whimper than anything else. Jungkook can tell that Taehyung is holding back so he doesn’t hurt him. He fists the bed sheets to give himself something to hold onto and tries not to let his knees give out or his face smash into the mattress when Taehyung reaches around his waist to pump his cock. 

The angle is awkward, and it’s hard for Taehyung to fuck Jungkook deeply if he’s leaning forward to reach his cock. After a few tugs, Taehyung wraps his hand around Jungkook’s wrist to pull his arm out from underneath him. 

“Touch yourself for me,” Taehyung commands, his voice too soft and smooth for what they’re doing. Hearing it makes Jungkook’s body quivers. 

“Feels so good,” Jungkook sighs as he begins fisting his cock, doing his best to keep up with Taehyung’s thrusts. 

“Yeah?”

Jungkook is a screamer. It’s embarrassing, but he can’t stop himself from wailing when he cums into his hand. His body spasms, making his other arm slip from underneath him. His body slumps forward onto the mattress, but Taehyung’s grip on his hips keeps him on his knees. 

“Keep going, come on.” 

Taehyung threads his fingers through Jungkook’s hair and holds him, doesn’t press down or tug, just keeps his hand there in an intimate touch gentler than how roughly he fucks him. It doesn’t take much more to have Jungkook coming again, his second orgasm apparently following his first fairly quickly – another new thing for him to learn about himself. 

“That’s it, bun, fuck,” Taehyung helps Jungkook finish himself off, lacing their fingers together so they can both fist his cock. 

Taehyung pushes Jungkook forward so he can kneel on the bed and drape his body over Jungkook’s, caging him in as he reaches his climax. When he cums, he bites Jungkook’s neck hard enough to bruise the skin but not break it. The throbbing pain makes Jungkook cum again, this time ending in a weak whimper that Taehyung captures in a kiss as he hovers over Jungkook’s body. 

“Fuck, I love you so much, Jungkook,” Taehyung whispers, and Jungkook can’t stop his tail from wiggling despite the embarrassment it brings him. 

“Oh my god,” Jungkook squirms, trying to escape from being underneath Taehyung, who smothers his laughter against Jungkook’s neck. “Taehyung, get away from me.” 

“Are you that happy? Getting all wiggly over here,” Taehyung coos. “Trembly and wiggly baby.” 

So much for being sexy. 

Later, after they shower, Jungkook has to sweep away the disappointment he feels when he looks in the mirror and notices there aren’t any puncture wounds or drops of blood on his neck. It’s not time, but maybe one day it will be. Clearly, Taehyung wants it too. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have risked a bruising bite that could have turned into a mating bite. Maybe Jungkook is getting ahead of himself. Maybe Taehyung is the one he’s meant to be with. 

“It looks good on you.” Taehyung’s whisper turns into a kiss on Jungkook’s temple when he squeezes past him in the small bathroom. 

“What?” 

Their eyes meet in the mirror; Taehyung’s a calm amber again. He touches the edge of Jungkook’s jaw, running one long finger along the edge and down his neck until he reaches the bite mark around his scent gland. When he presses on it, Jungkook whimpers. 

“This…” 

Holding Jungkook’s neck, Taehyung guides him to turn and raise his chin so he can kiss him from where Taehyung stands behind Jungkook. 

“You think so?” Jungkook doesn’t open his eyes, just basks in the smell of Taehyung’s shampoo and the warmth of their naked bodies pressed together. 

“Of course, bun.” 

Jungkook finally opens his eyes when Taehyung pulls away. 

“I have something for you,” Taehyung says quietly, focused on wrapping his towel around his waist. Hoseok was nowhere to be found when they emerged from Taehyung’s bedroom, but there’s no knowing if he has returned since their shower. 

The prospect of receiving a gift makes Jungkook giddy, not because he cares about material things, but because he likes the idea of Taehyung seeing something and thinking of him. 

“What is it?” he asks excitedly, a little annoyed when Taehyung won’t look him in the eyes. That is until he sees the pink blooming across the apples of Taehyung's cheeks. 

“I have to take you home to give it to you,” Taehyung says quietly, finally giving Jungkook a small smile when he looks up. “Home, home.” 

Series Masterlist

Disclaimer: All my writing is fictional and for entertainment purposes only. None of these characters are meant to actually represent the real people mentioned in the stories. 

All rights reserved © @gimmethatagustd​ - Do not copy, repost, modify, or translate any of my writing. Do not use my writing for any AI purposes whatsoever. Do not use my fics for anything aside from reading and commenting on them. My fics will only be posted on this Tumblr and on AO3 (gimmethatagustd & daddytaehyungie).

#taekook #taehyung x jungkook #bts fanfic #taehyung fanfic #jungkook fanfic #bts smut #bts fluff #jungkook smut #jungkook fluff #taehyung smut #taehyung fluff #venor #jai writes #gimmethatagustd

[demiesworld]

sunday mornings - [husband!miguel x blackwife!reader]

synopsis: just a domesticated miguel's sunday routine with his gorgeous black wife.

contents: sfw, suggestive theme, brief sex part but it is not graphically written, just fluffy stuff

notes: some use of spanish is used in this. my spanish is not very good, so if there is any grammatical errors please let me know. i wrote this bc i saw a lot of miguel x black reader fics that have smut in them, and rarely did i see some domestic or fluff with miguel and a black reader. miguel is not spiderman in this, he does not have any mutated abilities or powers. miguel is in his early 30s and reader is in their late 20s.

The weekends are always an anticipated time for Miguel. During the weekdays he would be working diligently in the confines of a cold laboratory. He worked the typical 8 to 5 as a bioengineer, pulling in money to support him and his lovely wife. On Saturdays, Miguel would spend them freely doing whatever errands or activities he couldn't do over the weekday. However on Sundays, there was a routine that him and his wife set in stone for them.

It starts off with Miguel waking up to the aromatic sweet smell of pancakes and a California king-sized bed with an empty spot beside him. The curtains and blinds in their bedroom are closed, yet the tell-tell signs of sunlight is evident from the peeks of rays. His sleepy brown eyes look at the wall clock and reads the time as five past 8 in the morning. Which was normal for his wife to be cooking their breakfast at a time like this on Sunday.

The man lifts himself out of bed, and doesn't leave the bedroom till after he's fixed up the bedsheets and laid the pillows back into place in a neat order. As he crosses the threshold of the door he shuts off the ceiling fan with a flick of his fingers flipping the switch down. Miguel runs his thick long fingers through his dark brown bed head hair as he walked through the hallway. The walls were decorated with family pictures, their wedding ceremony, and paintings of abstract African art.

As he got closer to the kitchen, he could hear the faint sound of the R&B song "Weak" by SWV playing from the bluetooth speaker. Accompanied by that was the sizzling of bacon cooking on the stove and the smell of that lingering in the air. Miguel came upon the kitchen entryway and he stood there leaning against the frame just to observe you preparing breakfast.

You were standing at the flat ceramic-top stove, flipping pancakes on a pan while keeping a watchful eye on your bacon. Your husband eyes your attire: a cream satin robe that ended above your knees and a matching color bonnet on your head. Your face free of any makeup, and you were just in your natural state. You looked beautiful as the day he first met you.

Miguel leans off of the frame and makes his way over to you. While you were in the midst of cooking, you felt strong arms and a firm chest press against your back. Large hands wrapped around your stomach, intertwining their fingers in a way to prevent from you escaping. As if you would ever do that. His supple lips attached themselves to the junction of your neck and collarbone just as a content sigh emit from him. A gentle and heart-warming kiss is what left goosebumps on your brown skin. A genuine, happy smile followed.

"Hmm... buenos días mi corazón." He whispers to you, and rests his chin on your shoulder to watch you cook. "Qué tenemos para breakfast?"

You daintily flip over a pancake while responding to him, "You are having oatmeal with apples, cinnamon, and honey. I am going to have pancakes, bacon and scrambled eggs."

Miguel pouts at the meal he was going to be eating, "Do I have to eat that mi corazón? It's so bland."

"Hey, the doctor said your cholesterol levels were high Miguel and that you need to cut back on sodium. You wanna have a heart attack or do you wanna live to see 60?"

He rolled his eyes, but he couldn't argue with your factual rebuttal. "Okay, I get it." His lips kiss your cheek before he lets you go and takes a seat at the dining table. Your gentle voice calls from the kitchen, "I love you Miguel."

"Te quiero tambien, Y/N."

Once you were finished cooking breakfast for you and your husband you set out the plates. First you placed your plate of scrambled eggs, two pancakes, and three strips of bacon onto the tablemat. Then you served Miguel with his bowl of oatmeal coupled with four boiled eggs and his orange juice. You let out an amused chuckle when you saw the pout on his lips upon seeing his meal. Your lips kiss his temple before you go over to sit at your designated seat.

"It's only for a month, papi, don't worry too much."

Together you both ate breakfast and discussed over plans for your Sunday. You told Miguel that after church services you were to be a teacher's substitute for the children so you wouldn't make it home until a little after 12. Miguel said he was fine with that since he would be helping out one of your elderly neighbors with mowing his lawn today due to the guy's back being hurt. You also mentioned to him that you needed to do chores around the house. He reminded you that you were to have Sunday dinner with his parents tonight at their place.

"As long as you're not going to be drunk with your dad then we can do that." You say to him.

"I won't drink with my father, cariño." He promises.

After breakfast was over the two of you started to get dressed for church. You did your makeup in your shared bathroom, going for a soft glam look. You took off your bonnet and fixed up the Senegalese twists you had in your head. You laid down your baby hairs, massaged oil onto your scalp and conditioned your hair. When you were finished doing that you went on to get dressed. Out from your private closet you pulled out a long sleeve mustard yellow maxi dress and slid on sandals. Then you accessorized with gold bracelet, gold heart necklace and gold diamond tear-drop earrings.

You came out of your bedroom and walked into the foyer where Miguel was standing there waiting for you. He was wearing the dark brown two piece suit you had picked out from him the night before. A mustard yellow tie and handkerchief stood out. Your husband cleaned up nice.

His eyes met yours when he heard you walking down the hall and smiled lovingly at you. "Dios mío... Te ves hermosa en ese vestido mami." He gently grabbed a hold of your hand and spun you around just to get a glimpse of your butt. "I don't think I wanna go to church today now."

You giggle and swat him in the chest playfully. "Damn Miguel, you horny dog, we're not skipping out on church again for that. Maybe when we get home this afternoon..." You trailed off letting him know that you were insinuating it could happen.

After Miguel gave you another twirl then a slap on the ass you two set off for church. There the two of you sat in the middle section of the chapel. Some folks came up to you greeting you both, and conversated about what the preacher was going to say today. You both got many compliments on your matching outfits. Which to you wasn't a surprise as you both wore matching outfits on Sunday mornings with similar colors. You remember from last year how the two of you wore red, white and green colors in celebration of Christmas during a service.

The service held felt long despite it lasting an hour and a few minutes over time. You and Miguel did your donations to the church. You both separately put in $50 into the hat that went around the congregation. You sang the songs that the choir was singing and praised every time the preacher talked about the Lord. By the time it was time to leave you looked at Miguel and told him to not pick you up since you had a ride back home after the class with the Sunday school children. You gave him a kiss good-bye then went on about your day teaching.

Miguel went home and changed out from his church clothes to a loose grey tank top, khaki cargo shorts and sneakers. He went over to the neighbor's home and let them know that he was going to mow their lawn for them before doing it. The old man neighbor was thankful for Miguel, even offered him money, but your husband politely refused. To him kind acts of service shouldn't be paid for with money but with kindness in return.

At around 12 you were just arriving home from church and Miguel had just finished up with mowing the neighbor's grass. He greeted you at the door kissing your lips tenderly and his hands caressing your hips. You inwardly laughed as you weren't even a minute into being home when your husband started kissing you and feeling you up in the foyer.

"Papi, I haven't been home for five minutes!" You squealed when he carried you up off the ground and pressed your back against the wall.

Your husband smirks on your lips and replies, "You're the one who said we could do it after church."

He was right you did say that to him this morning. You threaded your manicured fingers through his hair, a soft moan slipping past your glossed lips and into his own.

"Hmm, Miguel, if you really want it we gotta go to the room." You say breathlessly in between the passionate kisses he was giving you.

Miguel carries you into the bedroom and lays you on the bed gracefully. Once you two have rid each other of one another's clothes and jewelry pieces you both engage in steamy coitus. Hands caressing bodies, lips sucking on flesh, and sweat sticking to skin. A song of low grunts, shrill pleased moans, and heavy rushed pants resonated in the bedroom. The loud pounding of skin sounded like a drum in the background and creaking of the bed frame. It all escalated into an unsteady rhythm then came to an abrupt halt once you both met your ending.

The two of you laid in the rumpled bedsheets just holding each other in the aftermath. Basking in one another's glow. You tilt your head up to look at your husband and then kiss the underside of his sharp jawbone.

"We can't stay in bed too long, papi. I still got chores to do and we have dinner with your family tonight."

Miguel let out a tired sigh, "Just five more minutes cariño."

You move to get out of the bed, "Uh-uh, Miguel we gotta get moving, come on now." You pull yourself out of the bed and turn to your naked husband still laying on the bed. You wave your hand, "Come on, get the bed sheets changed and let's take a shower."

"I love you."

You pause when he says those words, but your face softens when you feel butterflies in your stomach. The words, "I love you too." fall out of your mouth when you respond. After saying that you walk out of the bedroom and into the bathroom, Miguel could hear your voice shouting, "You better be getting out of that bed and changing them sheets!"

Miguel shakes his head followed by a roll of his eyes. Though he does as he is told. He changes the messed up bedsheets, putting the old one into the laundry room and then replacing it with clean fresh ones. As soon as he was done he met with you in the shower and you both washed together.

Yes this was Miguel's Sunday routine. Going to church with his gorgeous wife, helping out with the chores, and attending Sunday family dinners with her family or his family once a week. It was the one day of the 7-day week that Miguel looked forward to. And he wouldn't trade it for anything else in the world.

notes: slowly trying to get out of my writer's block slump. current fixation is fucking miguel o'hara. god knew not to make that man real bc he will have everybody and their mama on his dick. anyways lmk what you think of this fluffy piece! (つ ͡ꈍ ͜ʖ̫ ͡ꈍ )

© 2023 demiesworld please do not repost on any other website without permission. do not plagiarize. any similarities in this fic is purely coincidental.

#miguel o'hara x black!reader #miguel o'hara #spiderman 2099 #miguel ohara #astv miguel #marvel #marvel comics #miguel x black reader #miguel o'hara x black reader

[rocket-our-baby]

No Dreams were prettier

a/n: ₊✧˚﹕︶︶︶﹕૮₍ ⸝⸝´ ꒳ `⸝⸝ ₎ა﹕︶︶︶﹕ ˚✧₊

You can find out more about me & pls read my disclaimers here.

Masterlist here

Rocket x fem!reader oneshot

Can be interpreted romantically or platonically (personally I like the one where they’re in-between and figuring it out before confessing; please feel free to read it the way you want.)

Just a fluffy oneshot to hopefully brighten up your day or soothe any of your acute/chronic/pms pain <3

Yes I wrote this when I was very very sick lmao like literally when I was cold sweating from the pain but nonetheless no particular warnings apart from mentioning of pain, except for extra pointless fluffs ahead behold

The title of this is kinda foreshadowing to what I hid at the end of the fic, and it works both ways ✵彡

English is not my native language (I just read tons of fanfics to keep on truckin’ and now here I am, still alive)

Ok the foreword wouldn’t necessarily be any longer in my future posts it’s just, this is like my first official fic posted here on this blog over the past decade since I deliberately avoided SNS so, kindly bear with my oversharing and thank you for stumbling upon here!

Hope you enjoy <3

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𝒩ℴ 𝒹𝓇ℯ𝒶𝓂𝓈 𝓌ℯ𝓇ℯ 𝓅𝓇ℯ��𝓉𝒾ℯ𝓇

info: rocket/f!reader, 3.1k words, 99%pure fluff, sfw, oneshot

summary: You’re sick, and Rocket is worried. He tries not to show it by acting rationally, but it’s very obvious.

note: is possibly one of the chapters in the domestic fluff slice of life series between rocket, the best pilot in the galaxy and the best captain any Terran girl can ask for in space; and the reader, a Terran from Terra living her not-so-normal life in space, with a talking raccoon.

╰────── · · ୨୧ · · ──────╯

banner edited by me ✵彡

“Hey,, Rocket… I could use some help… I guess”

Without turning around, Rocket glances up at his back and raises an eyebrow in curiosity, his paws still automatically tinkering with whatever new tools he’s fixing.

“Yeah? What's goin' on, doll? You sounded… weird.”

…only to find you in extreme pain and distress.

“And looked weird.”

Your face in agony, pearls of sweats forming on your forehead, your eyes barely focusing on him, nor are they on anything frankly.

“I’m feeling… bad… like a stomachache bad…”

You sound weak and breathy, but you slowly approach him in small and stumbling steps, both of your arms hugging yourself tightly applying pressure to your stomach, your fingertips digging deep into your soft flesh, bearing the pain and preventing yourself from screaming. Cold sweats all over your body, your voice weak, lips and face pale, as you sit — more like fall — down near him all of a sudden.

Rocket's eyes widen in shock, quickly setting his stuff down and rushes over to help you.

“Whoa, hey, hey, doll, y’alright?”

He gently places his paws on your shoulders to support you enough to sit up, as you give in to his embrace, finally feeling a sense of relief. Looking at you up and down, he nervously assesses your condition and instinctively sniffs for any blood, checking if you’ve had any wounds.

“How long have you been feeling like this?”

He certainly doesn’t sound like his usual self. That snarky, sarcastic, smartass cocky bastard.

“Around half an hour I guess… there’s no one on the ship right now and I’ve been shivering uncontrollably,,”

You let out a weak chuckle and smile bitterly at your own reply.

“I didn’t want to bother you cuz it’s your free time as well, but it’s becoming unbearable… as if my stomach is burning like hell and twisting… like there’s an alien inside ready to burst o-”

“Uh-huh, yeah I know I know.”

Rocket cuts your reference there and sighs in concern as he takes your forehead in his paw to check your temperature. He’s heard this before. From Stark from a kid from Terra called Parker, or something. He doesn’t care right now. All he can focus on at the moment is you, and your well-being.

“But girl, this is definitely not just some minor thingie. How's your appetite? Any vomiting?”

He furrows his brows, trying to figure out what's wrong.

“Not so great…I’ve just been drinking some water. A constant urge to vomit but nothing.”

As Rocket checks up on you closely, he notices your brows furrow in affliction, your lips pale white, your hands slightly shaking and your body shivering but also sweating due to the discomfort. He tries to avert his worrying gaze by turning to examine your body, but it doesn’t escape your Terran instincts.

“Okay... ‘kay, alright. How's your breathing? Any chest pains, difficulty catching your breath?”

He presses his ear near your chest to check your breathing rate and your heartbeat, his paw moves to your abdomen, pulling your shirt upwards to feel your skin and applying some pressure to gauge your sensitivity and any possible organ ruptures in that area.

“Yes, other than feeling like my stomach has become your bomb storage and they’ve all been exploding simultaneously this whole time, it’s alright… still alive I guess.”

You let out a slight sigh feeling Rocket‘s touch on your belly, half-chuckle at your half-joking reply despite struggling to merely keep your eyes open.

Rocket chuckles a bit at your snarky remarks, but then his face turns serious again as he continues observing your condition. Not saying anything, he grabs you by your waist and supports you to walk to a nearby sofa and gently helps you lie down. That’s an order, he said, just for you to chuckle weakly. Not that you’re gonna complain about any of it tho.

“Hmm, okay... this certainly doesn't sound good... d’you have a history of stomach problems? Anything that I’m unaware of?”

He shifts his body to the side, feeling for your liver with his left paw, and keeps applying slight pressure to your abdomen with his right.

You breathe weakly, as you continue to shiver feeling the endless twisting of your organs, but you seem to look a bit better now that Rocket is rubbing gentle circles on your stomach. Your breathing is slowly stabilising compared to a few moments before.

“Yeah I guess… since I was small, I’d often experienced stomachaches whenever I was nervous… or stressed. But this is not supposed to happen when I’m now an adult. I mean, I haven’t been that nervous for quite a long time. Not even when fighting monstrous aliens alongside you guys, y’know.”

“With us, you mean.”

You chuckle softly and weakly as he said that sternly.

The sudden flush of torturing pain causes your brows to furrow tightly again, sweats forming in the creeks of your frown, your eyes on the verge of tears.

“But my stomach has always been weak, to be honest… there’s no Terran food out here, y’know.”

You tell him the honest truth but still insist on playing around a bit in spite of how much your body aches, hoping to ease the atmosphere and not to worry the raccoon too much, given your current state.

It pains him even more to see you like this — always saying you’re okay, joking around to lift your crew up, pretending to be fine.

Rocket’s facial expression softens as he nods in acknowledgement, still monitoring your condition and applying slight pressure on you hoping to make you feel better, his fingers lingers through your soft skin and tracing gentle circles, careful not to hurt you even more.

“Huh... doll, don’t die on me just yet tho, this could be anything from an infection to an organ rupture, but it’d better just be one of your nervous stomachaches. Well, maybe when you see me.”

He smirks and turns to grin at you playfully, all the while continuing to feel for your spleen, and then shifts up to your chest to feel your lungs and heart.

His gaze remains locked on you, watching for any changes in your breathing patterns or expressions.

“Let's just hope it's nothing too serious. Hey, any drinking these days? And how have your bowel movements been lately? When’s your last ‘code red’?”

You blush slightly when his left paw reaches you chest to feel your heartbeat, his claw in your cleavage. You can’t help but smile softly at how serious he looks and sounds when checking up on you.

“Hey Rocky…I didn’t know you’re also a medical doctor apart from being an awesome mechanic and the best pilot in the entire galaxy.”

You grin playfully, looking at his beautiful bright brown ambers. As if they make you forget the pain - for just one second, you thought you’re gonna lost in his hazel eyes which has seen a lot in the universe, maybe more pain that you do, than you’ll ever do, maybe more than you can ever fathom.

For a second, the physical pain you’re experiencing becomes nothing more than noticeable, as your heart aches so much it drops just from the mere thought of what he has endured.

Rocket chuckles softly and lightly taps your forehead with his free paw, just to make sure your mind isn't wandering off too far from the situation.

“‘kay doll, let's not get carried away. I'm not anywhere close to a medical doctor, I'm just here to make sure you don't keel over in the next few minutes. Now stay still and answer my question, will ya? That’s another order.”

“Yes, capt’in.”

You giggle softly, can’t help but smile at him and reassure him there’s (prolly) nothing wrong with your cycles nor daily intakes. Since when did your period elevates to code red btw? Or is it just the colour..?

You don’t even have the energy to wander around anymore in your mind and decide to close your eyes again. Despite the constant distractions…of… his paws.

He continues to feel your chest and your abdomen, occasionally glancing down at your bare stomach to see if the pressure is bothering you or not. You notice how his ears perk up at any noise from your stomach and his whiskers twitches when he’s sensing any discomfort from you. You can’t help but indulge in the feeling of his touches, the smooth motions of his paws, keep thinking how cute he is and admiring how attractive he looks when he’s working on something seriously. Especially when that something is now you.

As the burning of your stomach brings you back to the reality, you chuckle softly at his snarky response, one thing again that you secretly love him for.

“Well… and here I’m just buttering you up to be my teddy bear for the day.”

You smile weakly and sweetly despite your very pale lips.

“And I also love the feeling of your soft paw on my chest.”

You giggle softly, and flash him a wan smile before another flush of pain comes in.

Rocket smirks and chuckles at your flirty comment, but only briefly before continuing his examination.

“Yeah, okay, that was cute and all, but you're the one with an excruciating stomachache, so let's stick to the task at hand, shall we?”

He presses down slightly harder on your abdomen and then listens to your gut for any signs of trouble.

“I just wish I had a stethoscope handy right now...”

He sighs and then leans down to place his ear over your abdomen, listening for any noises that might indicate something suspicious.

You smile at his seriousness and chuckles softly when the soft fur of his and his whiskers touch your now exposed skin, tickling you a bit but also soothing your pain. Maybe it’s just a diversion, or maybe it’s just you craving the feeling of hugging a teddy, or maybe you just wanna hug him… so much.

“It’s alright, Rocket… You’ve helped me a lot already.”

You just can’t resist the urge, as you slowly reach your hand to scratch his head and the spots behind his ears, smiling lovingly at him.

“And y’know, I think… this could help.” You gesture the current action of his by your chin, clearly indicating that you’re feeling better when Rocket is lying on your tummy.

It takes all of Rocket's willpower to stop himself from giving into the urge of just burying his face in your soft, warm chest, instead he remains sitting upright while listening to your gut. After a few seconds, he raises his head and looks at you.

“Yeah, I think it definitely helps. Your stomach's not roaring as loud as before, so that's a good thing. And that slight pressure seems to make you feel better as well.”

He looks down at you, the hint of a grin on his face, still holding back the desire to just bury his face in your neck. He’s got some more serious observations to do, as he pulls away and sits up.

You fake a playful frown.

“Hey, and there I was buttering you up to be my cuddly teddy bear for my not-feeling-so-well day! Ouch-!”

You chuckle softly at your own half-joking reply. But you do mean what you said.

“More like nearly-dying-from-no-missions day to be frank, dollface.”

He lets out a sarcastic chuckle and shakes his head.

“Come on, do you expect me to actually jump on your chest and snuggle up with you?”

He glances down at your stomach again, pressing down slightly. He should be focusing on this right now. Yes, this, not that.

“Still feel okay? You still in pain?”

His voice is a bit softer and quieter now, and you know he is still concerned about your wellness.

“Hmmmm… yes, if you’re not lying on top of me and if you still don’t snuggle with me and be my fluffy cuddly teddy bear/ heat pad for the day right here right now, then yes, very painful.”

You fake a playful pout, and chuckle softly at your own “childish” response, more like at the audacity of yourself to say it out loud to Rocket knowing that he’d not snap you back as harsh when you’re in this state, before smiling and opening your arms for him.

Rocket chuckles, but then rolls his eyes and groans as you gesture for him to come over and cuddle and heat you up.

“Seriously?”

He fakes another eye roll, and sees your almost teary puppy eyes — both from the real pain and from your mischievous idea of planning to cuddle with him.

“Okay fine, alright, if it'll make you feel better...”

He grumbles for a moment before sighing softly. Then he moves to the side, scooting a little closer to you, and then carefully lays on top of you, making sure not to move around too much in case he hurts your stomach.

“Happy now, princess?”

“Very, capt’in!”

You giggle when your wish is granted and then happily wrap both of your arms around the raccoon, feeling his rough but fluffy fur and his warm body.

“Thanks… Rocket.”

You gently pat his back with one of your hands and scratch the back of his head with another, smiling lovingly at his ears tickling the crook of your neck as his head is buried in your soft chest.

Rocket looks up at you for a sec before turning away. Your expression shows that you’re still bothered by the pain, but your face now has a shade of pink to it. Rocket wonders if it’s due to his body heat warming you up or any other reasons.

“You surely are a manipulative one when you’re not feeling well, aren’t ya?”

Sighs Rocket, as he chuckles and replies with a sly remark, regardless, he is smiling softly lying on your chest. His eyes looking at somewhere far away, as if he’s cherishing the moment and pondering… something else.

You giggle softly.

“It’s good to have someone to take care of me for once, y’know. I’m usually the one doing the caretaking… not that I don’t enjoy it tho. It’s just,, it’s a nice change of pace.”

You smile warmly while rubbing gentle circles on his back, and cuddling him a bit more, feeling his heartbeat and his fur coating your bare stomach.

Rocket chuckles softly and scoots in a bit closer, pressing his head against your neck, and allowing himself to relax on top of you.

“Yeah, no kiddin’. You're like the unofficial mom of the group, y’know.”

He seems to enjoy the moment, laying peacefully on your chest, feeling your soft arms wrap around him and your fingers playing with his fur. He smiles contentedly, letting out a deep and calming exhale of breath that he hasn’t had in more than a while.

“Y’know, doll... there's not many people I'd feel comfortable relaxing like this with.”

“Well, that’s my pleasure.”

You let out a giggle and smile lovingly at him, as you keep gently scratching his ears and massaging his neck, but careful enough not to hurt him by gently rubbing the knots around the implants and metals on his body. His muscles feel tight and tense. He surely needs a proper massage some day, you thought and note that to yourself.

“It’s really good to have you around, Rocket… really.”

Rocket shifts slightly to better allow you to reach his ears and massage his neck, not wishing to risk messing up the comfort at the moment.

He closes his eyes and presses his head further into your chest, sighing contentedly.

“...Y’know, for someone who's got a stomachache and is in torturing pain, you seem to be enjoying this quite a bit.”

You giggle softly, your hands keep patting him gently in a relaxing pace, resembling that of your own heartbeat. With him in your arms, your body is no longer quivering, you’re breathing now at a much calmer rate. You smile contentedly with your now less pale lips upon hearing him.

“Well,, for someone so rough and tough and fierce and snarky outside you surely are a lil’ soft ball for me.”

You let him bury his face into your crook, and giggle playfully but sweetly to him.

Rocket chuckles at your remark, but his gaze softens a little as you continue to pat him, still allowing him to lie on top of you as your soft body and your arms wrap around him, his body heat warming you up.

“I'd say it goes both ways.”

For once in who knows how long, he feels his tensed up body relax completely. Turning his head slightly to the side to give you access to his cheek and neck, his eyelids drift shut as you keep patting him gently, allowing himself to relax even further. You notice how the tension of his body loosen up and how his breathing has slowed down.

“I say… you should fall asleep on me like this today. You’re my personal teddy bear for the day, remember?”

He snickers at your comment playfully but then closes his eyes again, feeling safe and comfortable in the warmth and softness of your body and arms. After a moment of silence, he whispers into your chest, his voice sounding tired and relaxed.

“Yeah yeah, yeah, you win, doll. Anything for my girl.”

He lets out a slight sigh as things have eventually gone along your plan. Not that he’d complain though.

Feeling his warmth, you wonder if he’s a literal ray of sunshine. It’s as if all the pain has been drifted away by the river of warmth he radiates. To you, now, and you only.

“...I'm not gonna lie, I'm enjoying this...”

He closes his eyes and savours the moment, taking in the feeling of your gentle touch and your sweet, calming voice.

“…a lot.”

He whispered in an almost inaudible voice as he turns to you after a while, but notices how your eyes are now closed, your facial expression relaxed, your breathing has already slowed and he feels your tummy rising slightly up and down in a steady and relaxing pattern. Your lips now a lot pinker, curving in a contented smile.

He smiles to himself and sighs contentedly, as he lets himself relax on you and slowly drifts off into a dream that you two share in the incredible vastness of the galaxy, into the blooming stardust of the short-lived meteor shower shined upon the darkness of space, into the inevitability of the ever-lasting infinite universe, one that you two will be exploring together in the years to come.

“Sweet dreams, doll.”

𝐈 𝐟𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐞𝐲𝐞𝐬

𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐲 𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐤𝐞

𝐍𝐨 𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐞𝐫

𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐥𝐞𝐩𝐭.

fin.

♡︎s, comments and rbs are appreciated..!

hope you enjoyed it, and have a lovely day ₊✧˚﹕︶︶︶﹕૮₍ ⸝⸝´ ꒳ `⸝⸝ ₎ა﹕︶︶︶﹕ ˚✧₊

#rocket raccoon #rocket x reader #rocket raccoon x reader #rocket x you #rocket raccoon x you #rocket gotg #gotg rocket #gotg fanfiction #gotg imagine #rocket the raccoon #rocket raccoon fanfic #rocket raccoon fanfiction #rocket raccoon x y/n

[yamujiburo]

IDK if you feel the same way, but exploring whether or not a ship has kids in this au or whatever is like sorting through complicated thoughts about the subject. Stuff like how much society has put up expectations about how you'll end up having kids and damned if you don't want them or damned if you do. I know there's nothing more than just "fluffy domestic au" but for me? It's like "How do these characters really feel about this topic? Is it something that the organically want on their own?" I feel silly, but it's something I always think about. It's a big change in someone's life and it's not necessary for them and their partner(s)... But it is nice to think about them feeling like they do want to have kids on their own, without pressure, and that they're in a spot in their lives where they feel most comfortable doing so :'>

That’s such a good way to go about it! Much better than what I used to do at first LOLOL. For me it was more of a “I just wanna design next gen characters” thing. So I’d pair up characters and give them kids without too much thought so I could combine their designs

I also really, really wanna have kids at somepoint and I think I just project that onto characters I like 😭 but I know realistically that a lot of these characters wouldn’t have kids so I have to resist

I haven’t touched my next gen AU in a while but I did it now I’d do it much differently and with your mindset hehe

#ask yam

[bruh-anator3000]

CAT-astrophic

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A/n: *pushes rock I live under over and peeks out of the black abyss* Hey, have you guys seen a Car Wash Miguel fic anywhere? I don't know what happened to it but it's no longer here. Might've escaped... anyways, watch this cat for me while I look? Thanks. And don't mind the hot homeless dude who talks to him, they're bonding. *returns into the depths of the void*

Summary: A hot dude won't stop talking to your cat, it's kind of freaking you out.

WC: 1.7k, edited by google docs...

Pairing: Miguel x GN!Reader

Warnings: crack fic, Spider-cat's real name is Sir Jeffords bc i said so, clueless reader, pro outdoor cat (i'm not actually, keep ur cats safe pls), future-ish?, accidentally snuck in some world building, in Lyla we trust 🙏, Miguel in tight clothing bc I also said so, and wait wtf are you doing with a dead rat miguel, AND WTF IS THIS WHITE STUFF DUDE?!

Also no Spanish bc I've done some research and those who do speak it have asked non-native speaker to avoid it, to prevent bad google translations and maintain respect!

Okay, enjoy~

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You were about to head in for the night when you were not tripped by your cat for his dinner. After a quick search around your apartment, you sighed upon realizing he was still outside. Shrugging on a coat, mismatched slippers, and grabbing a flashlight, you went out to look for him.

Plenty of people told you to keep your cat inside. That it was vital to their health to keep them safe indoors. There were plenty of articles stating the cons of letting a domesticated cat roam freely outside with no supervision. They were also written 80 years ago. The world has changed since then, drastically.

Sure, it would still be smart to keep Sir Jeffords inside. Less late night searches for him, no more worrying if that scratch on his right paw was from running too fast along pavement or something worse. But he came from the life of an alley cat, and no matter what you tried, he had to be out there for a few hours a day. Last time you tried to stop him, he went under your radar for three days. You had a panic attack, worried he didn't love you anymore, but he did eventually come back. Chipper and eager, and he made sure you left his cat door unlocked.

The streets were cleaner than 80 years ago. The people were kinder. The city more accommodating to everyone, even stray animals. Sir Jeffords was mirco chipped, and even if it didn't work for tracking half the time, the shelter folks could scan his neck and drop him back home.

There were no pounds or pest controls anymore, just volunteers who helped poor animals stay warm. And find whoever left them in the streets. It was a crime to leave them now, resulting in 6 months of detention if caught dumping your animal friend into the alleys.

Jeffords was a smart cat. He knew what he was doing. You trusted him. In the event of something bad happening, you made him swore he would come find you right away. Though he couldn't speak, his tail wrapping around your pinky seemed solid enough.

You called out his name, followed by a few 'pspspsps's to really seal the deal. Your flashlight shining in the darker corners of the streets he may be hiding in. Cats and their dark, unreachable corners, Sir Jeffords fell victim to any cozy spot he could barely tuck himself into.

It wasn't until a few blocks away, a little past the bank, when you heard a meow. Very similar to his, you quietly sped your pace, wanting to grab your kitty and go home. The closer you got, it seemed more like he was responding to someone else more than you.

"-and your service is always appreciated." You heard a deep voice whisper. Their voice a grumble echoing through the alley they hid in. "You're one of our best." Your brows pinching together, you turned the corner of the bank, flashlight illuminating your fluffy orange cat. Who was rubbing up against the shin of a random man.

He looked up at you, eyes darkened as he blocked your flashlight with his large hand. They almost seemed red as he stayed squatted, Sir Jeffords head butting his knee. His face pure sharp angles, with a scowl permanently in place. His black shirt a tight, compressing fit. Clinging to each muscle and vein in his arm, stopping halfway down his bicep. His calves just as impressive. His shorts doing nothing but making him look even hotter.

Wait, no. This was a random man, he wasn't hot.

You lowered the light and gave an awkward smile. Seemingly unimpressed, his hardened gaze turned back to your cat. "He's yours?" He asked, voice rumbling low in his chest. With a nod, he added, "He's... cute."

Okay, maybe he was a little hot.

"Right?" Your smile smoothed into something more natural. "He's the cutest cat to ever exist." You lowered yourself down onto your knees with a soft baby call. Sir Jeffords trotting into your lap happily, orange fur swaying with his steps.

Your hand ran through his silky fur. Tension easing from you as you held him close again. Though his three day disappearance had yet to happen again, you still worried. He was your precious baby, after all. The one you shared everything with, and he never once judged.

Your fingers caught on something sticky, stopping short of his lower back. Pulling your hand away, strings of white followed, sticking to your fingertips. The feeling moist and far too clingy for comfort. A disgusted shiver ran up your spine at the horrible sensory.

The man stood then, tossing a tissue at you as he did. His gaze stayed on your cat, never faltering. He pushed his dark hair away from his face, still scowling.

Glancing between your hand and the man that now towered over you, you almost gagged. This wasn't... his, right?

"It was the rat." Like he read your mind, the mysterious stranger held out his other hand. A dead rat laid in his palm.

"That... doesn't make me feel much better." You suppressed another full body shake, quickly wiping your hand off. This guy may be extremely attractive to look at but the longer you stayed there, the more uncomfortable you got. "How would a mouse... And what is this?" You felt yourself getting sick as you held the tissue out, the white stuff now sticking to the paper instead

"Webs. And, it's a rat." He stated with a straight face. More angry at your confusion than anything. "Chased him through some spider webs."

You let out a soft 'oh.' But that didn't explain why he was holding onto the dead rat.

And he let it stay that way. Instead of reading your mind like he had been this entire time, he just... walked off. With a dead animal in his grasp. Without a word.

Your confused gaze turned to your cat, knees beginning to ache from the pressure of concrete beneath. Sir Jeffords purred into your stomach loudly.

"You're not allowed to hang out with that guy, ever again."

...

"Christ!" Miguel tossed the rat at the wall, hearing him curse. The small animal glitched into a grown adult, body morphing sickly. "That..." The villain panted, rubbing at his neck. Bruises from how tightly he was held already forming there. "... was not what I was expecting."

Miguel squatted back down, balancing on his toes as the hologram of regular clothes shifted back into his suit. "You chose to become a rat, in a world whose Spider-Man is a cat." He slammed down a disk, red netting encasing the fool. "That was your own fault."

"It was the only way I could get into the bank!" The villain squeaked. Miguel tuned out almost immediately, eyes turning to his watch. Setting the portal to his universe, and making sure he wasn't needed elsewhere. He entertained the villain in a tacky grey suit with distant hums and 'oh, yeah, uh-huh's. It was best to just let them get it out of their system then try to shut them up.

"And I would've gotten away with it, too! If it weren't for you and your cat!" The shape shifter writhed in the nets.

"Sound like a damn Scooby-Doo villain." Miguel stood up with a huff. He would never admit it, but Hobie used the term so often, he had to look up what he was referencing. Only to end up watching the first few seasons. He had to stop around the third season, a sick sense of deja vu hitting him with a bat. The cartoons reminded him too much of the daughter he never really had.

With a sigh, "Lyla," He called.

The AI appeared before him, wearing a shit eating smirk. He opened his mouth to command something else when she beat him to it. "You should've asked for their number."

"What?" Miguel's head snapped up, eyes wide.

"They were cute, should've asked them on a date." She glitched to his side with a teasing laugh.

"Lyla, I... no." He grumbled, flicking at his watch.

"Oh, you know?" Miguel tried to smack her away, only for her to reappear on his left shoulder. "You should go back, then."

Miguel glared at her, ignoring how the tips of his ears began to burn. "I can't, its-"

"Not a canon event." They said at the same time. Lyla rolling her eyes behind her heart-shaped glasses, Miguel focusing on creating a portal. "You're such a loser, you know that?" She huffed and puffed, spawning with her back turned to him.

He tried to reach out with a heavy breath, but she moved further away. This time sitting with her arms crossed and pouting.

"They were cute." The villain nodded from his fetal position on the ground. Earning a glare from the two. Shrinking further into himself, the shape-shifter apologized.

Miguel thrust his forearms forward, his mantis blades catching on the fabric of time. Ripping them apart with a grunt. Orange and purple twisted in front of him, and he grabbed a hold of the red netting the anomaly was in.

"Meet me back at HQ," He spoke to his AI with a nod. Foot already in the portal, he turned to cast a menacing glance at Lyla. "And do not try anything."

She held up her hands in defense, watching the portal close behind him. It wasn't like she even had to do anything - not anymore. She already slipped his multiversal number into the collar of Spider-Cat. All that needed to happen was you either found it, or it fell out. Lyla just had to wait to see which option would be canon.

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Check out my Masterlist!

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel x you #miguel x reader #spiderman atsv #miguel o'hara fanfiction #bruh writes #spiderverse fanfic #x you

[evsstolenhearts]

Summary: you left your chest binder on for way to long, and Peter has you change

College!TASM!Peter Parker x ftm!college!reader | 894 words | no y/n

Warning: over wearing of a binder

A/N: 1st off, I was in different mode than usual so reader is written slightly different than I usually write. 2nd, so short, very very fluffy, very very domestic. 3rd, I did not have energy to make a header, and might stop doing those, idk yet

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Peter has been looking all over the campus for you. Earlier you has met up for a late lunch, but that was nearing nine hours ago. So, since Peter is finally leaving the lab to go home to the apartment you share, he is hoping to find you and have a peaceful night before he patrols, even if it's technically ten at night.

After checking the usual spots for you, he finds him self at one of the libraries. And there you happen to be.

Hunched over your computers, books, and papers. Posture as horrible as ever, headphones smooshing your hair, and completely dead to the world.

Walking up to you, Peter softly taps his hand on the desk to get your attention. Looking up at Peter from were you sit, your eyes seem to dilate, but he's probably just hallucinating it.

"Hey, pretty boy. You ready to go home?" Peter asks with a lopsided smile as you take off your headphones.

"Oh- yes, yes. Let me just get my stuff, and I already checked out this book," you get up from your seat and begin to put everything in your bag, "so I think I have everything."

"That's good," Peter grabs your bag before you can put it on and then kisses you before you can argue.

"I'm hungry." You say softly as you break apart from the kiss.

Peter laughs softly, both of you walking out of the campus library, "do we have anything at home?"

You take a second to think back. You guys got lunch from the cafeteria this afternoon, and it's long sense closed by now, and you honestly don't remeber the last time either of you went grocery shopping. "I don't think we do, no."

"Wanna pick something up on the way back? I think that Hawaiin place is still open."

"Ooo, yeah! That sounds really good."

And so you do, by the time you make it back to the apartment, you are holding bags of food and Peter has your book bags.

The coming home routine seems natural. Peter dumps the book bags in the bedroom, you bring the food to the coffee table, and you both find yourselves back in the kitchen to get drinks.

"Pleasure seeing you here, sir," Peter smiles as he leans on the kitchen counter as you get your drunk, "you come here often?"

A smile overtakes your features, "I do try to make a habit of it." You look back at him as you finish getting your drink and begin to walk to the living room couch.

"Thank goodness for that, because I definitely need to see more of you around." Peter over dramatically winks as he comes to join you.

You each get straight to eating. Chatting over the show that plays, over classes, and anything else that comes to mind. With in an hour, you are both finished with dinner and cuddling on the couch.

Peter is laid flat, which your body completely on top of his, head resting on his shoulder as you half watch the show, and have doze off to the sound of Peter's breathing.

Peter's hands slowly make their way under your shirt, rubbing comfortably over your skin, until he pauses at a feeling of something under your shirt.

"Baby?" His voice is soft as to not startle you out of your peaceful state.

You hum in acknowledgment, for him to continue what he wishes to say.

"How long have you had your binder on?" His voice is laced with concern as his hands lay over the peice of clothing.

You stay quite for a moment before shrugging, "I don't know, a while."

"That's not good, baby." It's obvious he's not mad, just concerned, as usual.

"It's just one time." Your voice is muffled from being half smooshed on Peter's chest.

"But one time with become two, then three, then five, and that's not good." He begins to sit up, taking you with him.

"Noooo, stop." You groan as he moves you like a ragdoll to sit up on his lap, "I was comfy."

"You'll be even more comfortable with your binder off."

"Too much work." You murmur as you glare at him, but it holds to real malicious.

"Come on." Peter stand up from the couch, holding you in his arms like a sad bag of potatoes as he walks to the bedroom, "let's get you a hoodie to make you feel better."

Once in the bedroom, Peter softly plops you down onto the bed before walking to the closet.

"Which one do you want?" He sits through his hoodies as you sit criss cross on the bed.

"Can I have the blue one?" Peter grabs the blue one and hands it to you, kissing your head.

"Do you want me to leave the room?"

You take a split second to think, deciding how much you care if Peter sees you, but today has already been off and changing alone would feel much better than infront of him. "Yes please."

Peter kisses your head one more time before leaving, going back to the living room.

You change out of your binder and t-shirt, into the comfy hoodie that belongs to Peter.

When you leave the bedroom, Peter is already laying down on the couch, waiting for you so you both can resume your night.

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