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cassiefromhell · 6 months

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Lollipops

Post-War: Levi Ackerman x Reader

wc: 4.3k

warnings: SPOILERS. im so serious guys. SPOILERS. if you havent watched/read to the FINALE, do not progress. you've been warned. also theres a little tiny bit of gore.

a/n: this is self-defense writing to protect my sanity after the last ep. im so not okay with it being over. also requests are open, i'll write anything! also, this is written in flashbacks. but never fear, the flashbacks are separated from the present by dividers, so you'll know when it switches.

“You two are like a fairytale couple,” a young girl giggles, hugging a pink-covered book to her chest. “Like a damsel and her prince.”

You smile, pulling a lollipop out of your box — and then another, handing them to her. “Take two for sweet-talking me. But remember that true love isn’t perfect by any means.”

She grins, nods, and takes her candy, sprinting off into an old woman’s arms. You sigh softly, looking up to see that the line of children coming to receive candy from Paridian heroes is momentarily empty.

“Not perfect, huh?” Levi asks from beside you, shifting in his chair.

You roll your eyes, gently flicking the side of his head. You crouch down to be on his level. “You’re saying that we had a fairytale romance? That you swept me off my feet and carried me away from danger?”

“Yes. I would. Now get your ass up, I don’t need you to get down for me,” he scowls, his eyes flicking over your kneeling form.

“I would get down on my knees for you anyti—”

“Up.”

You grin, but listen to him and stand up, picking up your box once more. “Fairytale, huh? So what are you, the savior?”

“I’d say it’s even. Although, I remember saving your ass much more often than you saved mine.”

You scoff, putting your hands on your hips. “Name a time!”

“Get your ass up, scout!”

You groan, shoving yourself up onto your elbows. “Just a sec,” you manage between heavy breaths, coughing and coughing.

Hoofbeats approach and you whimper, knowing that if that’s the captain you think it is, you’re about to get the beating of a lifetime.

“Why, exactly, are you laying in the dust?” Captain Levi Ackerman asks, tone cold and voice sharp as a knife. “You’re a transfer, not a cadet. From the MP’s, even. I expected better.”

“I’m recovering from an injury, Captain,” you wheeze out, pressing a hand to your side and shoving yourself up onto your knees. “I’m sorry for the inconvenience.”

“You’d better be. Now, up. On your feet, or be left behind.”

You pull one foot under you, then the other, and nearly collapse. His arm shoots out to grab your bicep, effectively keeping you up as your side screams in protest, ribs aching and tears springing to your eyes.

“What kind of an injury?” he asks, his grip tightening. “Why on earth would you switch to the Survey Corps while injured?”

“Ribs,” you hiss, gripping your side. The doctors have said that nearly all your ribs on your right side are either bruised, fractured, or completely broken. “And I had no choice. I had to leave.”

He narrows his eyes, but slowly releases you, making sure you’re not going to fall over the second he lets go. “You’re in no condition to be training, and I don’t need you getting worse. I have no interest in crippled soldiers. Go inside and get yourself assigned to kitchen duty for the next two weeks, on Ackerman’s orders.”

Your eyes slowly shift up from the ground to him, and you get your first good look at him.

And holy shit, the rumors of Humanity’s Strongest did not mention how mouth-wateringly attractive he is.

You give the dumbest nod you’ve ever given and turn on your heel. You hobble your way inside, and then immediately lean against a cold, stone wall, repeating to yourself in your head over and over again:

We are not falling for a captain.

You open and close your mouth, then shrug. “Okay, but of course you were going to save my ass a lot while I was training. I’m sure it got better once I was a captain.”

“Did it, though?”

You elbow him, scowling. A smirk dances on his lips.

A woman grinning ear-to-ear starts your way, and you narrow your eyes. “She’s too old for candy.”

“Reporter,” Levi grumbles, looking down into his box, as if not making eye contact will stop her from approaching.

“Hi!” She shouts, giving a big wave. “I was hoping to ask you two a quick few questions, while you’re not too busy.”

“We’re quite busy,” Levi drones.

“Ah! I had heard about that grumpy attitude!” The reporter laughs, then looks at you. “And you must be his sunshine!”

You scratch the back of your neck, shrugging. “Something like that.”

The reporter whips out a pen and paper. “Now, all sources say that tog two have been married for quite some time, but nothing ever tells me when you two met, or how! Do tell.”

“We met in the service,” you start, rubbing your chin. “I had just transferred to the military police, so I was starting fresh in the Survey Corps.”

She quirks a brow. “Why did you transfer?”

The air simply won’t come to your lungs. You can’t breathe. The night sky doesn’t help, the fresh cool air is only suffocating you more.

You drop to the grass in the courtyard, one hand on your healing side and the other around your throat. Tears pour down your face, and you cough, and cough, and cough, and gasp.

It was just a nightmare, you tell yourself, but it doesn’t help. You can still remember what really happened, his hand around your neck, boot in your side, the bruises along each ridge of your spine from being tossed into a wall.

Your ribs may have been almost fully healed now, after two months being a Scout, but you still can feel each kick he gave you just for telling him no.

“Breathe.”

You sputter, looking up to see Captain Levi kneeling in front of you. He grips your jaw, tilting your head up to look at him.

“Breathe, come on. Take a deep breath.”

You try, you really do, but you only end up sobbing harder. Your hands clench the grass.

He sighs heavily, scooting over to your side and awkwardly patting your back. “Breathe.”

You manage to slow your breathing, and take a few good deep breaths. Then you immediately stumble to your feet. “…Sorry. I’ll head back now.”

His hand is around your wrist before you can even register that he’s gotten up. “Why are you out here so late, crying in the damn courtyard?”

“It’s nothing. Just a bad dream, you murmur, tugging your hand away from him and heading back inside.

You feel assessing eyes on your back as you walk, and you can’t help but look down at your hand, that hand that you wore a ring on for a year and a half.

You’ve fallen silent, chewing your lip and looking off to the side. The reporter tilts her head, raising a brow.

“She just needed a fresh start,” Levi answers for you, placing a hand on your hip for reassurance. “And that’s what she got.”

She accepts that answer, writing down the words. “Now, how did you two end up together? Was it live at first sight?”

Levi scoffs. “Far from it.”

You glare at him. “Well, I liked you.”

“No, you hated me. You just wanted to fuck.”

“Thank you, Hange,” you grin, folding up the card again and tucking it back into the envelope, which reads ‘Congrats, new Captain!’. “I really appreciate it.”

A year in the Survey Corps flew by fast, and you had shown immense skill in the craft, therefore earning the title of Captain of your very own squad.

But your skills weren’t the only thing that had developed. You and Levi tolerated each other now, even if he thought you were loud and chaotic and you thought he was grumpy and sad, like a lonely old man.

And yet, you were drawn to him. He was handsome, and every once in a while you’d say something that would make his mouth tilt up, and… that mouth. It would be the death of you.

Hange heads out, leaving you alone in your room for the first time in hours. Everybody had been in and out, offering congratulations and words of advice.

You sink back onto your bed, yawning. It’s been a long day, and now you just want to sleep—

But a knocking comes on your door, and in walks Levi.

“I could have been naked,” you grin as he strides over, dumping a pile of paperwork on your desk.

“Captains have more paperwork than everybody else. I’ve been assigned to show you how to fill it out.”

“I bet you were hoping I was naked” you tease, but get up anyway, running a hand down your face as you stand next to him.

“You’re insufferable.”

“You’re boring.”

“Boring? Really?”

“Yeah.”

There is a short silence, with Levi sorting through the papers. And suddenly, you are very aware of the fact that you are in your bedroom, alone, with Levi Ackerman.

And apparently he’s aware of it too, because he gives you a look.

And then you jump on him.

The reporter laughs and scratches a few things down on her pad of paper, her eyes crinkling around the edges. “And what year was this?”

“We met in 846, and then started seeing each other romantically in 847,” you explain. You open a lollipop and stick it in your mouth.

The reporter only stares at you, a brow lifted and eyes narrowed.

“Eleven years ago,” Levi says, and then she nods and writes it down.

“What—”

“Different years,” Levi murmurs, shaking his head. “They’re in the damn 1900’s, remember.”

You flush, blood rushing to your ears and cheeks. It doesn’t matter how long you’ve been with the rest of the world, you always forget that years are different and you can take a plane somewhere and getting a papercut doesn’t mean you might die of sepsis.

For you, it’s still 858.

“Did you two personally know Eren Jaeger?”

You crouch by the bars, tilting your head as you examine him. Just a child. Skinny. He couldn’t hurt a fly.

“This is the titan child?” You ask, squinting. “He’s, what, fifteen?”

“Yes. Please step back,” Levi says. “You don’t need to be that close.”

“He’s like a fleck of dirt in a crop field. I need to be this close to see him. Are you sure he really—“

The chains on his arms rattle, and you skitter back, slamming into the wall beside Levi.

“Careful,” he scowls, brushing dirt off of your shoulder.

“What… happened?” The boy asks, rubbing his eyes.

Erwin launches into a full explanation, and by the time he’s done the boy looks completely lost.

“You’re… the commander of the Survey Corps,” he looks at Erwin, “…And Captain Levi, and Captain {Y/N}… where am I?”

“A dungeon—”

Erwin keeps speaking, but a thump near the staircase catches your attention. You stride off, past the MP guards, and peek around the corner.

There, struggling against a guard, is the young girl that you’ve been told is Mikasa.

You scowl, shutting the door behind yourself and storming up to her.

“Calm down,” you whisper, taking both her wrists in one hand and pushing her up against a wall. “Do you realize what you’re risking here?”

“You don’t understand, I need to see him—”

“Shut up. You’re risking his freedom by coming this close. Go back upstairs.”

She glares at you, damn near baring her teeth. But you hold firm, and she slowly nods.

“Good, now go.”

You release her, and with one final glance over her shoulder, she trudges up the stairs.

You run a hand through your hair, thinking to yourself: these new scouts are going to be an issue, aren’t they?

“Yes,” you say, nodding. “We knew all of the kids.”

“All of them?” she asks, furiously scratching down your words.

“We were both captains when Eren’s year entered the corps — we trained them. Of course we knew them all.”

“On my squad,” you read off of your paper, speaking to the large crowd in front of you — all the scouts that will be on the next expedition. “…I am pulling in an extra scout. Mikasa Ackerman will join me in the center ranks.”

Whispers run through the crowd, and you step off of the stage, taking your spot next to Levi in the captains line. Erwin picks up a speech, talking about the squad formations.

A tap on your shoulder makes you turn, and your eyes widen as you’re met with your favorite chaos trio: Jean, Sasha, and Connie.

“Get into your formation,” you hiss.

“But, here’s the thing,” Jean whispers. “I’ve been really great during training. What do I have to do to get on your squad?”

“Jean!” you narrow your eyes. “You are not getting on my squad.”

“I would bring you food every day,” Sasha pleads, putting her hands out in a prayer position. “Please! We’d be the best squad ever.”

You actually pause to consider that for the food, but Levi stomps on your foot. “Ow— Uhm, no. Now return to formation or I’ll bump you down a squad.”

They skitter off, moving through the crowd. You just hope that they’ll go to the right place this time.

You sigh, facing forward again. You’ve already heard everything that Erwin has to say, so this is all repeat to you.

You brush your hand against Levi’s, and his pinky touches yours. You lock them together, resisting the urge to just lean into his warmth.

Pinkies locked, you wait out the rest of the assembly.

“Would you say you were close with any of them?”

Levi shrugs. “They respected me. They loved her.”

“Oh, they loved you too,” you grin, patting his shoulder. “Loved you enough for Historia to smack you the second she was legally allowed to.”

“Have there been any hardships?” The reporter cuts in.

You pause. Levi pauses.

“Of course,” he murmurs, voice softer now. He brushes his fingertips against your thigh.

As soon as you make it in through the gate, Levi is at your side, pulling his horse up next to yours.

“Let me look,” he murmurs, beckoning with his hand.

You shake your head, cradling your messily bandaged hand to your chest. “No.”

“{Y/N}. Let me look,” his voice is more stern now.

You know the damage. You found a cloaked figure up high in the trees, you went for the attack, and they were faster than you. It was a clean cut. Your index and middle fingers are gone, as well as a chunk of your thumb.

Stupid. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

“I can’t take it off ‘till I reach the medics,” you whisper back, turning away from him. “I’ll see you later, okay?”

But he doesn’t leave. He stays by your side, silently. He rides with you all the way to the scout headquarters, silently. He walks with you to the medics, without a single word.

The medics take one look at you, and, having heard that you were coming in, usher you into a private room.

There are three medics with you, which means they consider your injury a serious one.

The lead medic closes the door, and then turns to you with a pitiful smile. “Let’s take a look, alright captain?”

You cradle your hand closer to your chest. You feel like a child, not wanting to accept what’s happened. But it’s… your hand… this is forever.

Levi gently touches your arm. “You don’t have to look.”

You can’t remember the last time Levi was so soft with you. You’ve been with him for years by now, but he’s just not a soft person.

Nevertheless, he pulls your face against his shoulder, stroking your hair. He carefully pulls your wrapped hand away from you, holding it out for the medics.

You feel it immediately when they start pulling the bandages off, and you bury your face into Levi’s shirt, whimpering.

“You’re alright. They’ve almost got it off,” he murmurs, holding your face against his chest.

The wrapping falls away, and there’s a soft gasp from one of the medics, followed by Levi stiffening.

“Is it bad?” you moan, crying out as someone prods something painful.

“Do you want me to lie?”

“No.”

“It’s not good. But it’s a clean cut, so they’re going to clean it and stitch it up for you. You’ll be fine.”

You fist his shirt. “…Please don’t go.”

He pulls you a little closer. “I won’t. I won’t leave your side.”

The next thing you know, they’ve stuck your hand in alcohol, and you’re screaming.

You tuck your half-hand into your pocket, out of the reporter’s watchful gaze.

“But you two are married, correct?”

Levi nods. “Yes.”

“When were you married?”

You look to Levi, smiling softly. “Well, twice. Once in Paradis, and they don’t acknowledge Paridian marriage licenses here, so we did it all over again a couple years ago.”

“When was the first time?”

Your hand has become a focus for you.

Just as you lay in bed now, holding your two and a half fingers above your head. The stitches have been taken out, leaving you with pinky and ring fingers, two little nubs cut below the first knuckle, and half of a thumb. It’s still healing, but this is pretty much what your hand will look like. Forever. Till the day you finally croak.

The door swings open, and you immediately feel Levi’s cold, calculating gaze. “Are you picking at it again?”

“No,” you roll your eyes. “Just looking. Y’know, at least I still have a ring finger.”

“Why does that matter?” He asks. He takes off his jacket and hangs it up, then sits on the bed beside you and starts on his boots.

“So one day I could wear a wedding ring.”

He pauses. You pause, realizing what just came out of your mouth.

He turns to face you, leaving one boot on and the other half off. “You’re interested in marriage.”

Suddenly your face feels hot. “…Yeah.”

“To me?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s really what you want?”

You nod, chewing your lip.

“Then marry me.” His face stays completely blank.

You sit up slowly, eyes wide. “You— you wanna marry me?”

“You already know that I love you. If you want marriage, it’s only logical that—”

You cut him off by tackling him, sending the both of you tumbling off the bed. Levi twists so that he’ll hit the ground and you’re just land on him, but you have no time to ask if he’s okay between all the kisses you’re showering across his face.

He scoffs. “Enough, woman.”

“You wanna be stuck with me!? Really?!” You grin, sitting up to be straddling his waist.

“I guess so.”

You throw your arms over your head, starting to sing to yourself. “You looooove me, you wanna maaaarry me, I’m gettin’ maaaarried,” you snap to your own little beat, dancing on his waist.

You look down at him, beaming, just to find him watching you with soft gray eyes.

“I love you,” he whispers.

The reporter smiles and nods, then looks over her notes. “Well, I just have one more question, and then I’ll leave you two be.”

Levi looks quite ready to be done, so you speak up. “Just make it quick.”

She nods, looking up at you one last time. “Did everyone else know you two were together?”

You sigh, reaching behind you and pulling your hair out of its ponytail. It’s been a long day, and all you want is to refill your ODM fuel for tomorrow and go to bed.

You approach the supply closet, but pause when you hear voices. You peer in, eyes widening at the sight.

Eren, Mikasa, Armin, Jean, Connie, Sasha, Reiner, and Bertholdt all crowd around a table, coins in piles. But there are no cards. No game.

“Listen,” Connie says, throwing up his hands. “It’s just gotta be someone in the Survey Corps. There’s no way it’s not!”

“But wouldn’t we know if it was?” Jean adds, rubbing his chin. “There aren’t too many options.”

“Miche?” Mikasa proposes, spinning a coin in her fingers.

“What? No,” Eren scoffs. “Absolutely not. Armin, what do you think?”

Armin lets out a low whistle, shaking his head. “I already lost my money on the bet that Captain {Y/N} would stay single. I thought she was the type to not want or need a man.”

Ah. So they’re betting… on my love life!?

“Well, she’s wearing a ring, that’s for sure…” Sasha rubs her chin. “What if it’s Levi?”

There’s a beat of silence.

Everyone in the room erupts into laughter.

“Ha! Her and Levi? When pigs fly!” Eren laughs, banging his fist on the table.

“You’re such an idiot,” Connie grins, shoving Sasha. “I’d say she’s a lesbian before that!”

You smirk and roll your eyes, walking away from the room. You just know that they’re gonna be knocked off their feet when they find out.

“No, no, it took them quite a while to find out,” you laugh, shaking your head. “They couldn’t have guessed it if they’d put all their little brains together — and believe me, they did.”

“So, how did they find out?”

“Alrighty, Armin,” you sigh, running a hand over your head. “Let’s get this transformation done. The area is cleared for miles, so just give me a few minutes to get out of dodge, and you’ll get the smoke signal to go ahead.”

He nods, chewing his lip.

“Hey,” you pat his shoulder. “You’ve got this.”

With that done, you turn, shooting your grappling hooks into a tree and soaring off into the forest.

After a few minutes, you’re damn near in the safe zone.

Near.

And then the sky lights up like a Christmas tree.

As expected, a massive explosion sounds behind you, and your ears immediately start to ring. More concerning, however, is the shrapnel made of trees and dirt and rocks flying your way.

You shriek, turning forward once more and zipping your way through the trees. Except, you have to hold your left sword in a weird way because of your hand, and then a gush of wind hits you and—

The branch you’re swinging from snaps, and you’re sent tumbling to the ground, unable to right yourself.

The grass gets nearer and nearer, and you fumble with your swords. But you won’t make it. You squeeze your eyes shut tight, and accept your fate—

Until you collide with Levi’s chest, and his arms are around you, and you’re zipping towards the safe zone.

“Holy shit,” you wheeze, coughing on stirred up dust. You grip his shoulders, shaking from all of the adrenaline rushing through you.

You’re back in the group with the others in no time, and Levi immediately puts you on the ground. But you don’t get a hug and a ‘thank god you’re alive.’ No, Levi puts his hands on your shoulders and shakes you.

“Are you crazy?” He hisses, gripping your jaw with one hand. “I’ve told you to hold your swords upside down like I do, so this wouldn’t happen. You almost died, and all because of your idiocy—”

“Levi—”

“No, I don’t want to hear it. You cannot go dying on me, you hear me? I will not lose you.”

You bite your lip, putting a hand on his chest. “Levi…”

“You are such a fucking idiot. I cannot believe I married someone who would risk her own life like that. You need to value yourself, damn it! You cannot leave me here alone—”

You shut him up with a kiss, rooting your hand in his hair. He kisses you back without hesitation, his hands flying to your waist.

“You’re not going to lose me,” you murmur, pulling away. “You saved me. You caught me. And I’m confident that you always will.”

His jaw clenches, a muscle feathering, and he opens his mouth, but a voice from the right interrupts whatever he had planned to say.

“Did I, uh… miss a chapter?” Jean asks.

You look over to find almost all of Eren’s friend group standing there, dumbfounded. Hange sits up in a tree, grinning ear to ear, but they’ve known about you two for years.

You grin, shaking your head. “The money goes to Sasha.”

“AND YOU ALL CALLED ME STUPID!” Sasha shrieks, throwing her hands up in the air.

“That’s all I need,” the reporter nods, and closes her notebook, tucking away her pen. “Nice meeting you two, heroes.”

She leaves with a wink, and just in time, because a little refugee boy has approached, hands behind his back.

You give him a soft smile, kneeling to be on his level. “Would you like a lollipop?”

The boy nods, giving a shy smile.

Levi reaches into his box, holding out a blue lollipop. He gives the child his softest smile, and in that smile you see it all.

You see the man that saved your ass more times than you can count. The man who presses a kiss to your temple when he thinks you’ve fallen asleep. The man who blushes when you run your hands down his chest. The man who doesn’t give anyone that soft smile of his, except for on very rare occasions.

Your man.

The center of your universe.

The boy takes his lollipop, bows at the waist, and then skitters off with a mumbled ‘thank you.’

You watch him go, and then you turn back, met with Levi, holding out a lollipop to you.

You press a kiss to his scarred knuckles and take it, giving him your own soft smile. “I love you.”

“Yeah, you too, brat,” he chuckles, turning back to the box of candy.

And you remember the nights you spent eating sweets he brought back for you from town.

You remember every night with him.

Because Levi is your world. Your one and only.

And he always will be, from now until the end of time.

@jeannineee be proud of me bitch <3

#fanfiction #aot #levi aot #attack on titan #attack on titan fanfic #attack on titan fanfiction #levi ackerman #captain levi #levi x reader #levi ackerman x reader #second person #2nd person pov #post war aot #cassiefromhell

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running-with-kn1ves · 3 months

Note

Can you do a yandere killer clown that has been following you all night on Halloween

A/N:I wrote this a long time ago and hated it at the time but it really wasn't as bad as I thought! Hope you all are having a wonderful 2024 :>

Synopsis: A suspicious "killer clown" has been stalking you on Halloween to your dismay. Is it really just a costume?

CW: murderous clown, clownery, slight in-depth stabbing(death), stalking, intimidation, general fear

Word count: 2.7k

“Nice costume, man!” The echoed memory rang hollow inside your bobbing head. “I bet the black helps hide all the blood, huh?”

At the time you mischievously brought a hand to your mouth, shielding it from the eyes of curious and terrified children who mersmerisingly watched you joke to the killer clown. The masked figure hovered in front of you, staring blankly from behind the blur of white and red. The figure didn’t move, didn’t alter to his dominant hand with the bloody knife that rested in his palm.

You were met with silence as your comment passed; dark, invisible eyes watched you through the small eye-slits of the clown’s mask. Its elaborate makeup donned diamonds under and above each eye hole, a spongy red nose covering the mask’s nostrils. Though, you could still hear whoever was underneath, breathing-- the air pushing against the silicone. Painted black lips covered the faint outline on the masks mouth, detailed to almost look feminine. However, the broad shoulders underneath the harlequin patterned suit made you think otherwise.

You gave an amused smile, letting the figure keep in-character as he watched you slowly pass. A whiff of reeking gore and thick blood came across you as you walked away; a thought of ‘maybe you should have honked the clown’s nose for good measure’ crossed your mind, but the smell made you think otherwise. If he was dedicated enough to cover himself in pigs blood, who knew what else he’d do to you to stay in character.

Your mind ran in circles as the heels of your feet ached, your subconscious desperate to know what you said that made it all go wrong, or what made it go too right with this costumed killer clown.

Because here you were, walking down your neighborhood’s sidewalk with flickering light posts barely brightening the road in front of you as you sped passed your front door for the third time. With a dirty hand mirror gripped in your sweaty palm, you faced it slightly below your shoulder, hoping it was low enough that the shadow behind you couldn’t see it. You caught a glimpse of the red-speckled plastic mask and dazzling crimson hair of the clown behind you. Shutting the pocket mirror immediately, you picked up your pace again for whatever time again that night-- you've lost count. But it didn’t matter, the masked freak always seemed to be just a lamp post away, gradually getting closer with a joyful pep in his step.

After your first interaction with him at a lame Halloween festival, you then saw him again at the gas station right across your friends’ street, and once more at that same friend's costume party. You thought it must've been a coincidence to see him inside the gas station, only witnessing the back of his crazy dyed hair that looked too attached to be a wig; talk about being dedicated to the bit. Maybe he gets paid for being a scare actor? You didn't know, you didn't get the chance to ask before he ran out at the sight of a police officer perusing the candy aisle. Too bad for him, it was only a prominent gay dressed up in a sexy uniform.

But there he was again that night, peeking behind your friend's bedroom window that you sat across from. Seeing him there nearly made you shriek, jumping up enough to spill your drink all over the guy next to you. When you tried to explain, the clown had disappeared, only to show up mere minutes later from the bathroom window while you tried to rub beer out of your costume.

Seeing him the second time was nearly as startling, but you managed to keep your reaction to a minimum, merely glaring at the bloodied clown from behind dark glass. You threw your cup at the window, hoping to scare him off or show that you weren’t worth fucking around with, but he… didn’t move. Through the tiny hole in the mouth of the mask, breath came through, just slightly fogging up the glass. How the hell did he get up here in the first place, weren’t you on the second floor??

You turned away, hoping to just turn the light off and that’d be the last you’d see of him; but a thump on the glass told you otherwise. Another thump, this time almost with a clinking crack. Your hand still resting on the lightswitch; you nonchalantly looked back to see a familiar knife jabbed against the window pane, small cracks growing as he twisted it further into the window. Your hope of giving an apathetic reaction to deter him did nothing, gloved hands coming up to squeakily draw a dark red line on the window.

A threat? Maybe he's trying to apologize? What was he going to write-- you wondered if it was worth even sticking around for. But instead of words, the red line was finished with another, creating a small, dripping misshapen heart on the bathroom window. You slammed down on the lightswitch and shut the door quickly at the sight, making your way down the stairs.

He had to be one of your friend’s frat-guy pals, someone who went out of their way to terrorize on the nights of halloween in unassuming grocery stores or parties like this one. Someone here at this party who was just fucking with you-- that’s just what it was.

But now, hours later on the dark pavement of a street that looked so unfamiliar at night, you were starting to second guess yourself. The sweet whistling of what could only be from the clown behind you grew louder, squeaky shoes mimicking your steps and seeming to pick up in pace. You did the same, nearly jogging as you saw something moving in the distance. It was oddly pale and hunched over, going faster than you could run.

It was a biker! Some random fucking guy on his bike at 2 in the morning! You assumed this was what people meant when miracles roamed the earth, waiting to be found.

“Hey!” You shouted, running towards the speedy white demon as you blocked the middle of the sidewalk, hoping the guy would see you waving at him. But his stare was blank, not focusing on you nor the sidewalk in front of him. All he did, was bike.

“HEY! Can you please help me--” a pair of white wireless earbuds were nestled deep in his ears, immune to your shouting. Once he came cycling up close, almost too close, you realized he wasn’t stopping. His eyes completely looked past you, swatting you away with a sweaty arm as you stumbled into the street after narrowly avoiding his bike.

“What the fuck!” You yelled, watching him ride away as you threw your hands in frustration. You stopped to watch as the clown stepped to the side to give the incoming biker a clear path. This guy was just going to go past like everything was fine, not paying attention to the person in distress right in front of him, OR the creepy ass harlequin clown he was approaching. You gave a heavy, exasperated sigh and turned around, beginning to walk again as you hoped maybe the new distraction would stop your bloody walking partner.

But a sudden thud against the sidewalk caught you off guard.

Did he really ride into the clown?

No, from behind you, the man’s bike laid twisted with spinning wheels in front of your hunched clown stalker. The man was grasping his side with one arm, having fallen on top of his bike as his hand shielded from above.

Well, that's kind of what he gets for biking at the witching hour. And for not helping someone in distress! Karma's a bitch.

You hadn't noticed where the gore-striken clown's weapon had landed during the whole ordeal, not even thinking of it until a wet 'shlink!' and violent howl was released. The biker held his raised wrist with a shaking cradle, looking up at the knife that was just pulled out of him.

And just as the knife was removed, it was slammed back in with great inertia and skilled positioning on the clown's part. A wretched sound left the biker's throat, along with the odd crunching that came with him being pushed farther down onto his minimalistic bike.

A great red gash split onto his forehead, leading to the knife's metal stem that seemed to make peace with its new home inside the biker's skull. One of his earbuds popped out, crashing onto the sidewalk as blood flecked into his left eye. He seemed to look at the fallen earpiece, no longer acknowledging the knife now pushed as far as it could stab.

The clown seemed to stand back, watching the creation of his short few motions. He let out a whistle similar to an animated sigh. Comically, he wiped invisible sweat from his brow, looking over at you.

Your feet began to shuffle backward, grating against the rubble on the road as your hands flew to your mouth with an intensity that made you lose breath.

The mask seemed to look at you with no emotion, blankly watching with a sad smile as the clown stood simply. With the silence of the street, the stillness of the wind, you could hear faint breaths from across the street. They were soon replaced by a muffled whistle beneath the plastic, the clown's eyes dark and unseeable behind it. But the tiniest speck of light, a teensy reflection from the streetlight showed the human eyes of someone…unpredictable.

He stopped, only to give a high-pitched whistle as he pulled his steel weapon out of its created hole and rammed the knife back into the cowering biker, this time his chest receiving the treatment. The clown pulled it out again, only to prepare in the same position, raking up the bikers chest with the blade once more. Each time, he whistled and heightened it to mimic the sound of the knife flying through the air, only to crash down into a body of meat. He stopped once the knife made a connection to the skin, only to begin again.

You stood in grotesque awe, mouth ajar as you tripped over the sidewalk's curb. If it wasnt clear already to your record-broken mind, you needed to leave, now. You knew the guy was a creep, someone wayy to into the “murderous killer clown” trope but now, shit was a little too real. You began to run, making your way around the rest of the block without a care of whether or not he chased after you, finding your home. You needed to get inside, somewhere with locked doors that would be a barrier too thick for him to cut down.

Sweat and tears blinded you as black road filled your vision, along with your dim phone screen. you pressed the all too familiar three numbers on your phone. A nine, and two ones.

You waited for the shrill gurgles and distant whistling to stop from behind you, to hear a human voice pickup from the screen against your ear; which thankfully came after about two consecutive rings.

“Hello!?” You unknowingly interrupted, hearing the end of an “your emergency?”

“Hi-- uh, some freak has been following me and,” You were cut off by a grating voice, one slightly deadened and distant.

"Now that's just being mean."

Your heart jumped as you ran, dread settling inside you as the voice hummed in disappointment.

In the distance you could see the familiar front porch of your home, only about five houses down.

"You've got..to be…kidding," you huffed out of breath, elongating your stride to look like a wild runner as you sprinted to your driveway.

"Clowns are universally beloved; maybe you're the freak; considering you picked me I'd say you already had questionable taste."

"How'd you-- but I called--" You huffed, yet the clown cut you off.

"You really shouldn't leave your phone unattended in a room full of people…who knows when a devious comic of a murderer might strike! Especially one so handy in manipulating technology." You could practically hear the animated pose he struck along with the words. "So, having fun yet?"

You didn't answer, or rather couldn't from the lack of oxygen in your throat. All you could do was focus on running; but that's alright, because the freakshow on the other side talked enough for the both of you.

"We'll I hope so; in fact, you know I've chosen you to be my last man standing. My final girl," He paused for dramatic effect "My, surviving victim of tonight's excursion… you'll be a grand commemorating prize to bring back home, to be sure. You're just lucky that buddy boy back here took your place-- if he hadn't, I can't say I'd have been able to restrain myself enough to keep you alive until we got back home."

What the fuck was he going on about? What did it matter anyway, your sides were cramping so twistedly that it and your upcoming mailbox were all you could manage to concentrate on.

An infectious laugh cracked over the line, running from one ear through the other as you ran with your phone gripped tight. Looking down at your smudged screen, the caller ID read a simple “Unknown number.” You tried pressing the end call button, only for your screen to remain frozen. The caller screen almost looked like a screenshot, holding your phone captive as none of the buttons managed to work. The on/off button clicked and clicked, not altering the white screen.

“Ahh I can still see you running down there… trying to hang up on me while sprinting is hard, huh? Just make this easier and stop where you are, save me the trouble of having to play this hide and seek game for tonight. I promise if you make me play, I'll win."

You stop for a moment to catch your breath, turning around to see neon red hair in the distance and a black outline, the red diamonds on the clown's suit blending in. He still stood next to the fallen biker, holding something to his ear.

You wheezed out a laugh, throat beginning to close up.

"Oh yeah?... I'm halfway down the road, bitch! Once I get inside it's.. gonna be over for you. I don't, I don't know what the fuck this is-- but you're not gettin away with--with anything!" You held onto your knees, heaving into the phone as your chest burned. The silence on the other line was hardly noticeable as the sound of blood rushing through your ears and your heartbeat drowned everything else out.

"...Don't say I didn't warn you, doll."

The phone without warning went dark, line cutting off as the caller screen went missing.

Through blurry eyes you saw the clown lower his hand that was once at his ear. With a short moment of stillness, he stared at you. That stillness, morphed almost automatically into a full-on run. The pitter patter of squeaky rubber shoes on the gravel was adrenaline-inducing, filling the silence of the dark street besides the heaving of yours and the clown's breath.

"Oh fuck…" you murmured, turning around to begin your sprint once more.

As long as you could reach the house first, open the door with your keys in time, lock the door-- you'd be fine. You didn't have another phone in the house, but you'd be fine-- you'd just, at least be safe. From him.

But speaking of keys, where were yours?

You ran your hands over and over the pockets in your clothes, feeling nothing but the scraps of empty candy wrappers in your pockets. Where the fuck were your keys?!?

Finally, the grace of your front door made its way directly in front of you, your exhausted legs running up the short porch steps. You hadn't given even one second to looking back at your fellow runner, panic of losing your keys and the upcoming door occupying your mind. You jiggled the door handle, banging against the door with your shoulder as you let out a panicked exhale.

You could hear him getting closer, hear the labored breathing and chaotic deep giggling muffled by silicone.

The sound of heavy shrill footsteps stopped-- but beside your rapid heaving, hot breath covered the side of your shoulder. Wet red locks touched your ear, a deep inhale came to grace the top of your matted hair.

Four fingers covered in a frilly, harlequin-patterned glove were thrusted in front of your face, jingling your precious keys in their grip.

"Looking for these?"

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kentopedia · 6 months

Text

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ CANDY PRINCESS — nanami kento

you miss out on trick or treating with your daughter, but kento and yuuji don't

contents. fem!reader dad!nanami, big brother yuuji, fluff sorcerer!reader, aftermath of trick of treating hehe, cute nanami family moments on halloween — 969

you get home from a mission later than usual, your clothes coated in the blood of curses, bruises up and down your arm. your hair is a mess, and you miss your family, irritated that you'd had to work on halloween, especially since everyone knew you had a young daughter you'd wanted to spend the evening with.

when you open the door, there's a movie playing, a halloween cartoon that you haven't watched in years. candy wrappers are spilled all over the floor, your daughter picking out all the candies she doesn't like.

she sees you before you can say anything, and she jumps to her feet, scurrying across the room in her little pink princess dress, crown tumbling off her head. "mommy!"

you smile, relaxing at the sight of your sweet little girl, and outstretch your arms as she jumps into them. the blood from your shirt smears onto her dress, but she's used to seeing you in such a state; you and kento can protect her from a lot of things, but not from the vision of you covered in gore, exhausted after a long day.

"hi, sweetie," you say, kissing her forehead as you brush the loose tendrils of hair away from her face. "i missed you. i'm sorry i couldn't come trick or treating with you."

"that's okay, mommy," she squeezes your hand, her tiny palm wrapping around your thumb. "yuuji came with us! we had so much fun! he's really good at being my knight!"

you squeeze your daughter tight once more, and set her back down, letting her lead you over to the stash of candy.

"hey, you're back!" yuuji says, sitting up on the floor next to his own bag of halloween candy. he's dressed up in a knight costume, the helmet beside him on the floor as he grins up at you. "your mission took longer than we thought."

"well, there was unexpectedly first grade curses that no one warned me about." you sigh, letting the exhaustion seep into you; you're finally able to relax, the tension in your shoulder draining away. "where's-"

you feel kento sneak up behind you, his arms snaking around your waist as he kisses your temple, grins into your hair. "a treat for me finally?" he asks stupidly, and you roll you eyes with a smile, squeezing the hands that rest on your stomach. "how did the mission go?"

you don't get a chance to respond before your daughter is pulling you back to the ground, guiding you and kento to sit beside her.

"mommy, here are all your favorites! daddy said you liked these ones a lot so i saved them for you," she smiles, only able to hold a few pieces of candy in her small hands. "and yuuji traded some with me, because i think those are yucky!" she points to a pile of caramel candies that she's traded for the packages of gummy bears.

kento sits beside you, throwing his arms around your shoulder as he stretches his legs out in front of him. you still feel dirty from the mission, but you let yourself bathe in the relaxing atmosphere as you melt into your husband.

"did he?" you ask, looking up at yuuji. "what a nice big brother."

the teenage boy shrugs, picking up a caramel that he tosses into his mouth. "i'm not picky, i'll eat anything."

kento sighs. "we're all well aware of that."

your daughter scrambles onto kento's lap, bringing over some of the packages of gummy bears with her. there's chocolate on her face, and the lip gloss she'd begged you to let her wear had somehow gotten all over her chin. still, she looks adorable in her little gown, which has muddied at the bottom.

"which ones do you want?" she asks her father, smiling up at him with a wide grin, toothless grin. "the pink ones are my favorite. actually, i like them all! but you can have the blue ones if you want. they match your shirt, daddy!"

kento laughs, brushing a hand over her head. "i'll let you have them, princess. you've had such a busy day of running the kingdom, you deserve all the candy." he grins at her, tickling her sides as she giggles, burying her head in his collarbone.

you smile, dropping your head on kento's shoulder as you kiss the top of your daughter's head, a few tears springing to your eyes.

then, she runs off with yuuji, the two of them off to find a different halloween movie to watch to wrap up the evening. and kento holds your hand in his, his thumb running over your knuckle, smiling into your hair.

"tired?" he asks, his fingers tracing your arm, soothing circles relaxing you.

you hum, and a yawn bursts out of you, the scent of kento so much like home. "yeah," you admit, eyes fluttering closed as he holds you tighter. "i'm sorry i couldn't go with you."

"don't feel bad, sweetheart," he shakes his head, tipping your chin up to kiss him. "you didn't miss much. i had to carry her most of the way, she got tired."

you laugh, looking at the bundle of energy that's chasing yuuji around the kitchen, unsurprised that she'd begged kento to carry her around the neighborhood. a surge of love washes over you, and you kiss kento's cheek, his lips, your heart delicate in your chest.

despite missing an evening with your family, you're grateful you're still able to have this moment with him, to bathe in the affection you feel for the man beside you.

and though being a sorcerer is exhausting, a job more brutal than its worth, you'd never give it up. just because, you'll do anything to keep the young girl and boy in the kitchen safe.

#yuuji is so my son #kento nanami x reader #jjk x reader #nanami fluff #nanami kento x reader #nanami kento x you #nanami kento x y/n #kento nanami x you #nanami x reader #jjk x fem!reader #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #xoxo rylie 💌 ୧⋆ ˚｡⋆#beloved kento 💋 ୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

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spookyserenades · 6 months

Text

Trouvaille - Chapter Eleven

Pairing(s); BTS OT7 x Reader

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

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

Word Count; 20k

Trouvaille Masterlist

Trouvaille playlist

Updates on the 7th of each month

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

Previous Chapter // Next Chapter

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Tae: Okay :) thx

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Uh–”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

With the mention of his name and their shared task for that afternoon, Jimin’s ears perked up immediately and he set his newspaper down. Tae gave her a thumbs-up, whipped cream coating his upper lip from his drink, Y/N noting how he looked 100% human with his beanie on, his rounded ears hidden beneath.

“What are horses' names, again, Y/N?” Jimin accepted a plate of breakfast food from Yoongi with a polite nod, the leopard hybrid placing a second one heaped with outrageous portions in front of Y/N. Y/N had an inkling that Yoongi’s love language was making sure she was always well fed.

“Blue, Oliver, and possibly Willow, if her owners can make it today,” Y/N recalled, her eyes to the ceiling to pull the information out of her brain. Though she was once a veterinarian and often treated horses, taking care of so many that lived in her backyard full-time was sort of intimidating. It was lucky that she could heavily rely on Jimin, who was at home almost always, and grew up taking care of horses specifically.

Sneaking a peek at the coyote hybrid beside her, who was the picture of anticipation scanning the backyard through the picture window behind the breakfast nook, she melted in her seat like a pat of butter in a scorching pan. Jimin was a striking combination of delicately beautiful and ruggedly handsome, and quite frankly Y/N found it unjust. To her, it was wrong that someone could be simultaneously runway material and dripping with inherent brawniness.

Additionally, the sort of romantic dreaminess that Jimin often displayed in his actions (unbeknownst to him, Y/N believed) practically made him into a Jane Austen hero that walked off of the weathered pages and into her reality. It was extremely difficult not to fall for the coyote hybrid, and Y/N spent a good chunk of her time trying to grapple with that whenever she hung out with him in the stable. A man who was gentle and caring towards animals was certainly high up on her wishlist for a lover.

“Alright. Everything is all set in the stalls, I put hay in three of the vacant ones this morning just in case,” Jimin grinned at Y/N, as if he could read her mind and see the thirsty thoughts floating around in her skull. Hastily covering up her guilt, she took a scalding swig of her coffee, wincing at the sear in her esophagus.

“Eat up, Y/N. The eggs taste like shit when they’re cold,” Yoongi interrupted her coughing fit, his eyes narrowed from his spot by the sink, Y/N unaware he was even monitoring her. There was an odd look on his face, his fine features shadowy, lips downturned at the corners, and his ears twitching in agitation. Okay?

Obediently, Y/N worked through her comically large plate of breakfast, giggling at Hoseok and Seokjin teasing each other at the island, their jabs at each other filling the kitchen with a little sunshine despite Yoongi’s sudden storminess. She’d have to ask what was up with him later, when they cooked dinner together.

“Oh, she’s beautiful, Mr. Orlov! I’m so glad you could bring her today. We’ll take great care of her,” Y/N stroked Willow, a dapple gray, gently on her strong neck, admiring how soft her coat was. Mr. Orlov was a good friend of her grandfather’s, a Russian immigrant, and was planning on spending the winter in Arizona with his wife.

“I’m sure you will. Your grandfather spoke highly of the young man who will be helping you. A former ranger hybrid, no?” Mr. Orlov asked in his thick accent, walking beside Y/N and his horse with his hands clasped behind his back.

Though it was the forth time she was escorting a horse through her backyard towards the stable, she still found it a bit funny to do so, especially without Jimin. He was busy in the stable already, tending to the two new horses and his own.

“Yes, Jimin worked at the Yellowstone ranch, so he’s very experienced. He even used to train horses! I’m really fortunate to have him, he was able to fix up the old stable in the blink of an eye…” Y/N took the opportunity to gush about Jimin, soothingly patting Willow as she became a little skittish with the sounds of splitting wood off into the distance.

“It is nice to know Willow will be close to home while I am away,” Mr. Orlov’s crystal blue eyes scanned the backyard for the source of the sound growing in volume. “Is that him?”

Taehyung, with his flannel tied around his waist and in a sweat-dampened white tee shirt, was by the little woodshed several yards away from the stable, an ax in hand and a neat pile of firewood beside the block he was chopping on. Mouth drying up at the sight, the sheer strength Taehyung possessed in being able to split a thick chunk of wood in one fell swoop, Y/N shook her head distractedly.

“No, that’s Taehyung, another one of my hybrids,” Y/N gave Taehyung a weak wave when his head whipped up upon hearing his name coming from her lips. He adjusted the beanie on the top of his head, blinking at her stoically, returning to his task. Y/N had the feeling he was aware she was peeved he was only in a tee shirt in fifty degree weather. “Jimin is in the stable.”

“That’s him?” Mr. Orlov pointed towards the chicken coop, where Seokjin was shaking out a bag of feed with the birds pecking around his feet.

“Uh, no, that’s not him either,” Y/N chuckled sheepishly. She wondered if her grandfather had told Mr. Orlov just how many hybrids lived with her. It was the sort of thing that tended to be a bombshell dropping during conversations with curious strangers. “Just through here, let’s bring Willow inside and see how she likes her new digs!”

Mr. Orlov politely waved at Seokjin, who had a chicken tucked under his arm. Due to the colors of the feathers, Y/N could tell it was Sable– her and Jimin had named all of the chickens– the hen that was greediest with the food and often ate more than her share. Chuckling at the bird struggling to free herself from Seokjin’s arms, Y/N slowly led Willow and Mr. Orlov into the stable, which was lit up nicely and immaculately swept clean.

“Ah, gorgeous. You fixed up this place very well, I remember what it looked like last winter,” Mr. Orlov took a look around, Jimin appearing from one of the stalls with a wide grin that made his eyes narrow into slits.

Probably sensing that Y/N was in need of more experienced hands to take over horse duty, he hurried over, hands already extended– one to shake Mr. Orlov’s hand, another to take the reins from Y/N’s clammy fist. Relieved, she took a few steps away from Willow, watching Jimin lead the horse and her owner to a free stall, one next to Vista, Jimin’s own horse. Y/N noticed the ground of the stable was a bit wet, the scent of shampoo slightly perfuming the air from when Jimin had given Vista a bath earlier that afternoon.

She let Jimin handle himself and take over answering any questions Mr. Orlov had about the stable and how they’d care for Willow. Truthfully, she would just be awkwardly standing there while they chatted, and Jimin could definitely handle talking to Mr. Orlov himself, so she gave Vista a soft pat on her nose before heading back outside to see if Seokjin had gotten his arms pecked bloody.

When she left the stable, Seokjin was already gone. It was kind of brisk outside, and since Seokjin was not a fan of chilly weather, she figured he had gone back inside as soon as he fed the chickens to warm up by the fire. Taehyung was still busy chopping wood, and Y/N realized that he had found an old portable CD player and was listening to something as he worked, the old headphones he typically plugged into the turntable attached to the device clipped to the belt loop of his jeans. He still somehow managed to hear her as she walked towards the house, even with the music playing– or perhaps he caught a whiff of her. Either way, he gave her a closed-mouth smile, sweat collecting along where his beanie met his forehead.

Y/N’s phone began to ring in her pocket, making her pause and plop down onto a lounge chair on the patio beside the kitchen door. The caller ID showed a picture of Ben from college, drunk and eating ramen with a fork.

“Hey Ben! What’s up?” Y/N picked at her cuticles, which were unfortunately drying out due to the change in seasons.

“Same old, Roy just took Daisy to the grocery store. She wanted spaghetti for dinner, and we were fresh out.” Ben sounded like he was bustling around his kitchen, pots and pans clanging together. “How’ve you been? Didn’t you say there were some people dropping off horses at your place today?”

“Yeah, three of them got dropped off today. You should see Jimin, he’s so happy,” Y/N felt warm fuzziness envelop her, imagining the radiance of Jimin’s joy in her mind. “I’ve been really good lately. I finally feel like the routines are making sense and flowing.”

“That’s a relief. You were running around like a headless chicken for a few weeks there,” Ben chuckled. “Speaking of chickens. Do you think I could get some eggs from you sometime this week? The last batch was awesome.”

“Of course! We have more eggs than we know what to do with, even with Hoseok boiling so many for his pre-practice snack,” Y/N snuck a peek into the kitchen slider, hoping to see Yoongi in there waiting for her to join him. However, no one seemed to be in the kitchen, which was highly unusual– all of the boys were prone to constant snacking. “Is that why you called? For more eggs?”

Y/N was teasing, but Ben texted her most of the time to catch up. When he’d call her, it was typically because he had something important to say.

“No, actually. I have some news for you,” Ben cleared his throat, tone becoming more serious. “It’s about Hannah. She won her case this afternoon, and someone has already requested to adopt her. She’s out of Cirque Mystique.”

Y/N fell silent, heart pounding quickly in her chest. She hadn’t talked to Seokjin about what she had found out about Hannah yet, wanting to wait and see how her trial went before getting his hopes up that she had been freed from the circus. Now that Hannah was free, Y/N was suddenly stumped on how to bring it up to Seokjin. Since their chat about Hannah and the circus, the jaguar hybrid had not brought up the subject again. Part of Y/N wondered if he thought she forgot about it, since the conversation happened weeks ago– the thought making her heart squeeze.

“Hello? Earth to Y/N, did I cut out?” Ben whistled on the other end of the receiver, Y/N squeaking once she realized she had zoned out with him still on the line.

“No, no, I heard you! That’s really great news, you said someone wants to adopt her?” Y/N recovered, watching Jimin escort Mr. Orlov back to his car in the distance.

“The public defender who represented her, actually. I know the woman, she’s wanted to adopt a hybrid for a while, she’s extremely nice. Actually, she just decided to move to Upstate New York, more clients around there, more nature, et cetera. So her and Hannah will be moving at the end of the month, when the adoption goes through. I guess they really bonded over the course of the trial, Hannah felt safe with her,” Ben explained, Y/N trying her best to process all of this new information. “And I know what you’re thinking. You were probably itching to adopt Hannah for Seokjin, but seven hybrids is already a handful for you, Y/N. This is a good thing.”

Lifting her eyebrows, she considered Ben’s accusation. Honestly, she wasn’t even close to thinking about adopting Hannah– Ben was right, seven hybrids was more than enough to keep her on her toes, an eighth would send her straight over the edge of sanity. Besides, adding another hybrid to the house was a recipe for throwing the carefully constructed balance she had created between her seven boys off kilter.

“Ben, I might be a little off my rocker, but I’m not that crazy. It was difficult enough to get some of my boys to even tolerate one another, I’m not about to disturb the peace now,” Y/N pushed a hand through her hair, wondering if there was a way she could arrange for Seokjin to meet with Hannah before she moved to New York.

“Mm-hm, I’m sure,” Ben replied airly, as if he didn’t buy what she was saying at all. “Apparently, though, Hannah was asking about Seokjin. I told my friend– Sarah, is her name, the one adopting Hannah– that he was with you and he was safe. I think she’d like to see him, and I told Sarah that I’d ask if it was alright to pass on your contact information.”

“God, it’s like you read my mind. That’s totally fine, send over my number and email. I’ll definitely find time for Seokjin and I to meet up with them,” Y/N agreed, growing anxious to tell Seokjin the good news. There was no telling how he’d react, but she was hoping that it would be positive. “Listen Ben, thanks for letting me know. I gotta get going though, I want to break the news to him.”

“Just as well. I have a Zoom meeting with a client in half an hour, enough time for me to finish roasting vegetables for dinner. We have to blend them into the tomato sauce to get Daisy to eat anything green, ironic for a bunny hybrid,” Ben bid Y/N goodbye, hanging up with a curse as it sounded like he may have burned himself on a hot pan. Ben’s cooking skills were never really something to write home about.

Shivering, eyes trailing after Jimin making haste back across the yard to the stable, Y/N took a calming, deep breath as if to steel herself. Strangely enough, she was becoming nervous to talk to Seokjin, which was unnerving and even a little alarming. Gnawing on her lip, she tried to swallow down the anxiety, pulling her sweater closer around her body and finding her way back into the house.

Y/N’s anxiety subsided monumentally as soon as she found Seokjin. He had made himself comfortable in the parlor, arguably the warmest room in the house, wrapped up in a throw blanket with the fireplace alight and his attention on the cooking channel. Without a word, Y/N took a seat beside the jaguar hybrid, his chest rumbling with purrs as she squirmed into a suitable position. In amicable silence, Y/N defrosted next to Seokjin for several moments, humming softly when he peeled back a corner of his blanket to pull it over Y/N, as well.

“You shouldn’t spend so much time outside when the weather is like this. You’ll catch a cold,” Seokjin murmured after a while, eyes focused on Gordon Ramsay demonstrating how to cook the perfect duck entree. He attempted to put off nonchalance, but his eyebrows were knitted and Y/N could tell he was slightly admonishing her.

“For someone born in December, you sure hate the winter, huh, Seokjinnie?” Y/N deflected, naturally scooching closer to his elevated body heat. It was nice that the hybrids were such warm beings, perfect to cuddle up to. “Speaking of, have you found a place you’d be interested in going to eat for your birthday?”

Y/N knew that she was beating around the bush, but her brain was still trying to come up with a way to bring up what she had discovered about Hannah. Luckily, it seemed that the rest of her hybrids were either outside or holed up in their bedrooms doing their own thing. She swore she had heard Yoongi on the piano when she had come inside, a familiar tune he often played but never directly in front of her, but the music had stopped abruptly as soon as she sought out Seokjin.

Grumbling, Seokjin didn’t seem to like her obvious change in subject and disregard for his fretting, but his features softened as he finally cast a look downwards at her. He pulled his phone out from under the blanket, tapping away on the internet browser with determination, before holding the phone out in front of Y/N’s face, his lower lip tucked between his teeth.

“Oh! Ramsay’s Kitchen? As in Gordon Ramsay? There’s one of those in Boston? I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised, he is a household name around here,” Y/N gingerly took Seokjin’s phone from him, flicking through the website’s gallery.

Seokjin didn’t say anything, his cheeks a little pink as he watched Y/N check out the website, his ears dropping down sideways as if she was going to tell him they couldn’t go or something.

“Mmm… the menu looks delicious. Hey, your birthday falls on a Sunday, so we could go to brunch– only if you want! We can go any time, really. It’s entirely up to you, it’s your day, after all,” Y/N passed Seokjin’s phone back to him, the jaguar hybrid pulling his teeth from his lip, blood rushing to the flesh and making his mouth look even more tempting than ever.

“No, brunch is perfect! There’s more to choose from on the menu, for brunch. Are you sure we can go there? You don’t mind driving into the city?” Seokjin’s eyebrows shot up into his hairline, blinking harshly at her like he had sand in his eyes.

“The drive is nothing. It’ll only take us like half an hour to get there, don’t worry about that. Want me to make a reservation? I think it’s probably wise considering Ramsay’s popularity…”

“I can do it,” Seokjin assured, already looking for the page to reserve a table. “Do you think everyone else will come along?”

“Do you want them to?” Y/N cocked her head, speaking cautiously. Perhaps he only wanted to go with her and Hoseok?

“I mean, whoever wants to come can tag along. I don’t mind,” Seokjin mumbled quietly, fingers hesitating on the drop-down menu that asked how many would be in their party.

“Uh, why don’t you just reserve a table for eight, and if anything changes, I’ll give the restaurant a call. Okay?” Y/N made a mental note to convince everyone to join in for brunch, even the ones who tended to be late risers, because as much as Seokjin was trying to appear neutral, she could tell he secretly wanted everyone to be present. Whether or not his reasoning was so he could try more menu items, Y/N didn’t know.

They lapsed back into silence for a bit, Seokjin finishing up the reservation form and the both of them watching Kitchen Nightmares with the occasional shared giggle. The mid-afternoon light was beginning to wane, filling the parlor with blue light, the fireplace offering a dim, homey glow.

“Seokjin, I have some news for you,” Y/N spoke up abruptly during a commercial break, unable to hold information back anymore. Besides, she’d have to get going on dinner in a bit with Yoongi, and she promised the leopard hybrid that they’d bake something for dessert together, too.

Reaching forward, she lowered the volume of the television, twisting her body and curling her legs to the side so she could face Seokjin fully. Able to sense her change in demeanor, serious and full of purpose, Seokjin promptly tore his attention from the TV, a quizzical look on his beautiful face, his nose slightly twitching.

“So, remember a while ago, when we talked about Cirque Mystique, and I said I’d have Ben look around for some information?” Y/N dove in headfirst, deciding that she had been stalling for far too long.

Watching the color drain from Seokjin’s face, he went rather still, even the constant twitch of his ears had paused in their movement. Not wanting him to think she had bad news, she reached for his hands under their shared blanket, the feeling of his crooked fingers slotting against hers boosting her confidence.

“Hannah is fine,” Y/N assured at once, Seokjin’s mouth dropping open and his loose grip on her hands squeezing weakly. “Ben’s public defender friend, Sarah, actually represented Hannah in a negligence case against the circus. Hannah won her case, and she doesn’t have to work in the company anymore.”

“She’s free?” Seokjin breathed, his face still extremely pale and his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed repeatedly, like he was trying to lubricate a dry throat.

“She’s free,” Y/N confirmed, smiling wistfully as tears began to gather along Seokjin’s lower lash line. The sight had her heart absolutely breaking in her chest. “In fact, Sarah has requested to adopt her. She’ll be safe, living in a loving home. Ben said that Sarah and Hannah had bonded over the course of her trial, so I think this was the best possible outcome for Hannah.”

Seokjin began to process what she had revealed to him, periodically clutching Y/N’s hands in small pulses as his wide eyes flitted from each of hers, as if to detect any deceit. His mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water, apparently at a loss for any kind of response, but Y/N let him take his time to sort out his emotions as she clung to his hands for dear life.

“So… she’s going to be adopted,” Seokjin spoke barely above a whisper, releasing one of Y/N’s hands to use the inside of his wrist to dab away at his watery lash line. “That’s good. She’s not hurt?”

“No, she’s not hurt. Ben said she only sustained minor injuries, but those have definitely healed up by now,” Y/N was trying not to read too much into Seokjin’s reaction to the news– Hannah seemed to mean a whole lot more to Seokjin than Y/N had originally thought. An itchy, uncomfortable sensation began to bloom in her gut. Was it selfish to be jealous of Hannah? Probably, but it was near impossible to squash it down.

Regaining his sense of self, Seokjin clumsily lurched forward, the blanket around them falling around their waists as he crushed Y/N in a fierce hug. His entire body crooked over her, and his wide shoulders did a good job of caging her in and shielding her from the world. Hands trapped between their chests pressed flush together, Y/N could only wind her fingertips into the fabric of Seokjin’s black tee shirt, breathing stuttered as Seokjin clutched her and shoved his face into her neck. The fabric making up the collar of her sweater was growing a bit damp, and Y/N realized Seokjin had allowed tears to fall freely down his cheeks, soaking into her top.

“Shh, it’s alright,” Y/N whispered, able to free one of her hands so she could smooth her palm down the back of Seokjin’s wavy head of raven hair. Shoulders slightly shaking, Seokjin pressed closer to her, almost forcing Y/N into his lap. “She’s going to be alright. Would you like to see her? Sarah said that Hannah was wondering about you, once she found out you were here with me.”

Pulling himself together slightly, Seokjin nodded into the crook of her neck, sniffling a little as Y/N’s previous jealousy melted away into concern for the jaguar hybrid. Still raking her fingers through his hair, she accidentally grazed the shell of his rounded, silky ear, a choked noise coming from Seokjin as he shuddered at the swift contact, his body becoming totally slack against her. Muttering a whoops, sorry, Y/N held onto Seokjin for a few more moments, her cheeks burning, before carefully maneuvering him off of her so she could assess his expression.

“Oh, Seokjin… I didn’t mean to make you cry, honey,” Y/N’s throat was growing thick, the image of tears tracking down Seokjin’s face nearly unbearable to witness. Reaching up, she used her thumbs to tenderly brush away stray tears, Seokjin leaning into the touch and offering a weak smile. “I told Ben to give Sarah my information. As soon as she reaches out to me, we can make a plan. There’s one more thing…”

Seokjin shook his head, in order to encourage Y/N to continue talking even while he was overcome with emotion, trying his hardest to compose himself, his hands coming up to rub at his biceps self-consciously.

“So, apparently Sarah is planning on moving to Upstate New York with Hannah, as soon as the adoption is finalized. Of course, we can visit whenever you’d like, but I just thought you should know that, as well,” Y/N now found it hard to look Seokjin dead in the eyes, her fingers fiddling with a stray thread poking out of the throw blanket tossed haphazardly across her lap.

“New York? She… Hannah always wanted to live there,” Seokjin croaked, though a warmhearted beam began to grow on his face. Again, the itchy feeling in her gut returned, and Y/N felt overwhelming guilt flood through her.

“She’ll love it there, I’m sure!” Y/N cheered, desperately hoping he couldn’t smell the emotions that were eating her alive only inches away from him. Shit, she was in deeper than she thought. “C-can… can I ask? How long have you known Hannah?”

Seokjin froze, scanning her face quietly, his friendly expression still in place but the barest hint of caution glazing over the set of his mouth. Immediately regretting her question, wishing she could stuff the words back into her trap and swallow them whole, Y/N began to wave her hands and chuckle everything off.

“Jesus. Sorry, none of my business–”

“I’ve known her for about six, almost seven years. It’s okay, you can ask,” Seokjin gave Y/N a gentle pat on the back of her hand, likely noticing her picking at the loose blanket thread nervously. “She was brought into the company a couple of years after me. I had several friends in the company, but Hannah I felt closer to than anyone else.”

Digesting this, Y/N began to imagine what Hannah might have looked like, and how she acted. For Seokjin to speak so highly of her– and care so deeply for her wellbeing– she must have been an incredible person.

“Ah, you might think this is ‘corny’, like when we watch those romance dramas with Hoseok and Jimin, but, um,” Seokjin made goofy air-quotes, his teeth coming down to chew on his lower lip once more. “But you know how those dramas often have a particular trope? Well, Hannah– I guess you could say– she was my ‘first love’.”

Then, Y/N’s ears began to ring loudly. Staring at the jaguar hybrid like he had just told her he planted a bomb in their basement, she took a split second to recover, once again chuckling like an idiot. The concept of one’s ‘first love’, as cheesy as it could be in dramas and novels, was nothing to laugh about, however. Often, the ‘first love’ stuck around in someone’s heart until the day they died.

“F-first love?” Y/N squeaked, and it dawned on her that she, herself, never experienced such a thing, so there was no way she could put herself in Seokjin’s shoes. “Are you still…?”

“In love? God, no,” Seokjin caught on to the unsaid, ever the perceptive one. “We realized early on we were better as friends, rather than lovers. She’s just a dear friend to me, now.”

Expecting to be placated upon hearing those words, Y/N’s brain was still chanting ‘she was my first love’ in Seokjin’s voice over and over in a loop like the creepy robed dudes in Eyes Wide Shut. All she could do was plaster a hopefully convincing impartial expression on her face, wishing another hybrid would bumble into the parlor and save her from her self-imposed humiliation.

“Oh! Um, well, it’ll be really nice to see her, huh? Sarah will probably contact me any day now, so we’ll set everything up, honey,” Y/N cleared her throat, praying her words didn’t come out like she was spitting them through her teeth.

Y/N was engulfed in another organ-crushing hug, Seokjin thanking her profusely for finding out about Hannah for him, and swearing that he’ll have to bake some bread for Ben and his family to thank him as well. Nuzzling into his eucalyptus scented chest, Y/N concentrated on getting over herself; it wasn’t fair that she was letting her growing feelings for Seokjin get in the way of his relationship between him and his longtime friend– and former lover, she mentally added, bitterly so. She was only soothed by the gentle purring vibrating from Seokjin, the heavy weight of his tail wrapping around her hips.

When she broke free after several moments, the tip of Seokjin’s nose pink, he announced that he wanted to clean up and take a shower before dinner, but Y/N suspected he was a touch embarrassed for crying in front of her. As he stood, he doubled back, planting a kiss on her forehead swiftly before scurrying out of the room like he was on fire. Reeling, Y/N sat statue still for the length of three commercials, attempting to unpack everything she had just experienced, until she broke free from Seokjin’s spell and switched off the television.

“Yoongi? Angel, where are you?” Y/N had been milling around the house for thirty minutes trying to find her leopard hybrid so they could start on the dough for the cookies they were planning to make.

She elected to freshen up after her conversation with Seokjin and showered, changing into some leisure wear. Y/N had already checked up on Namjoon, who was busy reading– she encouraged him to set up the chessboard in the parlor for later, but he claimed he wanted to finish reading the next few chapters of his book club selection, so she didn’t push him.

Meanwhile, Hoseok had left her a sticky note on the fridge that he had gone for a run around the neighborhood, something that wasn’t unusual for him, Taehyung and Jimin were still outside, and she didn’t typically bother Jeongguk unless she was absolutely desperate to talk to him. That left only Yoongi available for her to pester, if she could find the slippery little bastard.

“Angellll?” Y/N poked her head into the music room, to see if he had fallen asleep on the leather loveseat in front of the record player again. Alas, he was nowhere to be seen, and he had left all of the candles in the room lit and unoccupied. Frowning, she had run out of places to look for him– all of his usual spots were void of his presence. There was one last place to check; his bedroom.

Y/N hadn’t gone into Yoongi’s bedroom since she adopted him, but he had chosen one of the tower rooms, so she pivoted and started down the hall with a pout. Yoongi was never one to ignore her, and would always appear whenever she’d call his name, so she was a little peeved.

“Hey, Yoongi, are you in there? I thought you and I were going to bake together,” Y/N couldn’t keep the whine out of her voice, and she didn’t even feel ashamed about it. “Yoongi, I can hear you grumbling. Let me in?”

She could picture the eye roll he was giving her from behind the wooden door to his room, but the muffled sound of sock-clad feet padding to the door had her grinning in victory. Gotcha.

As the door opened, Y/N was smacked in the face with the cologne-scented candle Yoongi liked to burn in his room, and she got a wider-than-usual visual of the bedroom than she would whenever she’d drop off his clean laundry at the door. Yoongi, dressed in sweatpants and a long-sleeved white tee shirt, wordlessly stepped aside so she could enter his room.

“Are you avoiding me or something? I feel like I haven’t seen you all day, angel!” Y/N pouted, taking a seat on his desk chair with her arms crossed. His room was quite neat, but there was sheet music strewn about on his desk, handwritten notes scrawled across the pages.

“No, I’m not avoiding you,” Yoongi similarly crossed his arms, leisurely sitting down on the foot of his bed across from her. “I practiced in the driveway for a little while with Foxy, came up here to shower, and then I planned out the next few piano lessons for you. Besides, weren’t you a little preoccupied with Seokjin?”

Taken aback at Yoongi’s flat, disinterested tone, Y/N blinked at him with shock. Yoongi never spoke to her with such a tone, and it certainly caught her off guard.

“Okay, what’s up with you? Did I say or do something to offend?” Y/N demanded, recalling how he had been grouchy during breakfast as well. “Wait, do you need to scent? Is that it?”

“No, I’m fine, Y/N,” Yoongi responded quietly, looking out his window distractedly, like he couldn’t meet her eyes. His long hair was messy, like he was running his hands through it all day, and his tail was flicking back and forth on the bed behind him in an agitated manner. “Nothing’s wrong. How’s Seokjin?”

“He’s alright, why so curious all of a sudden?”

Silence. The awkward tension was entirely new between them, and it set Y/N on edge. She decided to try again.

“There was something he asked me to find out about his past, I was just updating him on the news,” Y/N didn’t think she should divulge much more than that to keep Seokjin’s privacy, but she also didn’t want to ponder on the thought of Seokjin and Hannah’s reunion for much longer.

“The past, huh?” Yoongi muttered cryptically, heaving himself off of the bed and moving so he could stand by his window overlooking the front yard, a scowl on his face.

Y/N really only had a few clues about Yoongi’s past; he hadn’t really brought it up too many times. What he did bring up was working at the bar in Boston, with vague details, but that was all. Yoongi didn’t even know that Y/N had found out about his mother’s death via his report sheet on the hybrid database, and she wasn’t bringing that up at all until he did.

So, Y/N didn’t really understand why Yoongi was being so weird. Was he hoping she was going to pry into his past? He hadn’t shown interest in discussing it before, so Y/N had no reason to fish around for information and risk opening old wounds for him.

“Yeah, the past. Seokjin had me find out about a friend of his from the circus he was a part of. I’m sure if you ask him about it, he’ll tell you,” Y/N spoke slowly, waiting for the tension to break and for him to make some kind of wisecrack.

“Do you remember everything from your past?” Yoongi voiced his question to the window, rather than Y/N herself, so close to the glass his breath fogged it up.

Y/N thought that was an odd question. Everything?

“I mean, I remember specific memories, if that’s what you mean, but I don’t remember every single thing that has ever happened to me,” Y/N felt like she was trying to answer some kind of riddle, and no answer would end up being correct.

“Ugh,” Yoongi grunted, clearly not hearing what he wanted to. “Okay, let me rephrase. Has there ever been a time where you’ve forgotten something or someone completely from the past, like it was erased from your mind?”

“Is this a riddle, Yoongi?” Y/N blurted, bewildered. His ears flattened against his skull, back still turned to her. “I mean, say that something like that has happened to me. How would I even know? If it was like it was erased from my mind, how would I even remember the person or the event at all?”

She felt like she was talking in circles, and she wished that Yoongi would just tell her what all of this was about. He might have been a mind reader, but she certainly wasn’t.

“Nevermind, Y/N, it doesn’t matter. Come on, let’s get started on dinner,” Yoongi sighed, his shoulders drooping as he briskly left the room and Y/N sitting at his desk in confusion.

“Joonie, I’m rustier than I thought,” Y/N complained, sitting across from the wolf hybrid as he kicked her ass for the second time during their chess match. He smirked, and she wanted to reach across the table and wipe that grin off of his face with her thumb. “Besides, you cheated. You read like five books on strategy. Not fair.”

“Don’t be a sore loser, Y/N, darling,” Hoseok called over his shoulder, curled up on the sofa in front of the TV. While his head was turned, Y/N gave him the finger, watching the fox hybrid snort with glee at the bitter gesture.

“Honestly, Y/N, I really wasn’t even using any of the strategies, I think you might just be terrible at chess,” Namjoon leaned back in his seat, amusement all over his handsome face.

She squawked in offense, pelting a pawn at his broad chest, the wooden piece hitting one of his pecs and unceremoniously clattering to the floor. Namjoon simply raised an eyebrow at her, as if to challenge her to try that again, before plucking the piece off of the floor with his elegant– and apparently, talented, fingers.

It was a Friday, and it was one of the afternoons that was free of any events at the rec center. Y/N was blowing her entire paycheck from Judy’s on gas and groceries alone, but the added $3,000 she was getting monthly from boarding the horses was nicely supplementing her income. She spent the morning with Jimin, helping him give the horses baths, took a walk with Taehyung around the neighborhood to take some pictures for his clubs, and was now getting kicked in the ass by Namjoon on the chessboard. All the while, Jeongguk, Hoseok, and Seokjin were going through Quentin Tarantino’s entire filmography– currently on Kill Bill.

“Christ, the blood is so fake looking. Did they even fucking try?” Jeongguk pointed out from his spot on the recliner, between a mouthful of popcorn Seokjin had brought out for them all.

“Gratuitous violence, obvious fake blood. That’s Tarantino for you,” Y/N stood stiffly from her seat, waving an imaginary white flag. “You win, Joonie, I give up for today. Loan me one of those strategy books, why don’t you, so I can stop embarrassing myself?”

Before Namjoon could reply, Jeongguk had more commentary to offer, scoffing at the TV.

“Tarantino. I heard he’s a fucking douche canoe,” Jeongguk stuffed more popcorn into his mouth, and Y/N had never seen him look less intimidating in her life.

Seokjin audibly winced at Jeongguk’s word choices, glaring at him disapprovingly. Y/N, however, had to choke down her laughter in the palm of her hand.

“Sure he is, but he makes great movies,” Y/N agreed, making her way to the back of the sofa, soothingly giving Hoseok a light scalp scratch. Violence corny or not, the fox hybrid wasn’t a huge fan of blood and guts.

Unfortunately for the hybrids in the parlor, Namjoon joining the others by sitting on the floor by Seokjin’s feet, Y/N had to part with them. It was about time for her weekly piano lesson, and for once, she wasn’t eager for it.

Since that previous Tuesday, Yoongi had been acting strangely around her. He wasn’t nearly as clingy as he always was, and his replies to all of her questions and comments were clipped and quite short. Honestly, it depressed her quite a bit, and she spent hours at night staring at her ceiling combing through her memories to find something that might have caused his change in demeanor.

Trudging up the stairs slowly, Y/N paused halfway up, listening to the sweet melody of the song Yoongi was currently playing on the piano. It had become her absolute favorite tune that he played, and she had a hypothesis that Yoongi might have composed it himself. Sensing her approach from the stairs, the song was cut off halfway, disappointment flooding though Y/N. She wondered why he never played it right in front of her.

“Hi, Yoongi,” Y/N slipped into the room, promptly perching herself beside him on the piano bench. Her heart ached looking at him, purplish circles under his usually vibrant hazel eyes, as if he hadn’t been getting enough sleep. “What are we doing today?”

“I figured we could attempt something more difficult. ‘Someone Like You’, Adele,” Yoongi tapped on the sheet music he had printed out, missing the spark of excitement that lit up Y/N’s face. Usually, they’d do short tunes, nothing that one would hear on the radio. She must be improving, in his opinion.

Not making his usual small talk, Yoongi dove into teaching her patiently, all business. Y/N jolted whenever his foot would press over hers on the sustain pedal, so embarrassingly starved for his touch it was humiliating. She didn’t know how to get back to how they were prior to that week, but she felt like she needed it more than she needed to breathe.

They made it up to the chorus by the time an hour had passed, and that was typically how long Yoongi would teach her before Y/N’s wrists would get sore. Massaging them, Y/N bit her lip, watching Yoongi scrawl a note where they left off in the score, his hair hanging in his face and curtaining it from her.

“Yoongi, what’s that song you always play when you’re alone?” Y/N tried to get him to stay with her longer, to open up, anything. She wasn’t sure if it was the right topic to bring up, but again, she was desperate.

Yoongi stilled, pushing hair behind his ears and finally looking her in the eye. When he could smell the melancholy coming off of her in suffocating waves, his features softened, and he felt like he could tell her anything that she wanted to know.

“It’s just something I play mindlessly,” Yoongi dismissed, tongue peaking out to moisten his lips. “I wrote it a long time ago.”

“I thought that you might have written it,” Y/N brightened up a little, suddenly very impressed with Yoongi’s talent. “It’s beautiful, I love it. Why don’t you ever play it for me?”

Yoongi went pink, shockingly, and diverted his eyes at once. Y/N wasn’t having it anymore.

“Yoongi, can you tell me what’s wrong? You’ve been distant all week, and if it was something I said or did, I want to make amends,” Y/N begged, her voice fraying at the end– she felt like she was going to have a nervous breakdown at that point. “I really miss you.”

Her final utterance was soft, broken, and small. Yoongi’s head immediately whipped up, smelling the salinity of tears gathering in the corner of Y/N’s eyes, and he suddenly felt like the world’s biggest prick.

“Come here, I miss you too, sweetheart,” Yoongi broke down, pulling Y/N in for a hug by her waist, gently wrapping his arms around her middle as she swallowed down her tears. “I’m sorry, don’t cry, please, don’t cry because of me. I’m an asshole.”

“No you’re not,” Y/N sniffed into his chest, soothed by the scent of his spiced vanilla shampoo. She hadn’t been close enough to smell that comforting scent in days, but it felt like a lifetime. “You’re just stubborn. Is this about Tuesday? Your questions about me forgetting things from the past?”

“You can just forget about it, sweetheart, really. I’m sorry for being moody, it’s just…” Yoongi trailed off, looking conflicted and pained.

“I’m not going to forget it, it’s clearly bothering you. Say your piece,” Y/N pulled away from Yoongi, staring at him expectantly. She wasn’t letting him out of her sight until whatever was on his mind was hashed out.

Yoongi slouched on the bench running both hands through his hair and appearing to sort out his thoughts, perhaps figuring out where to begin.

“Y/N, you went to school in Boston, right?” Yoongi spoke after several excruciating seconds, not waiting for her response but charging on, “I was born in Boston. Unlike most hybrids, I was born naturally, not created in a lab. My mom and I worked under the table at that bar I mentioned, The Black Lodge, remember?”

“I remember,” Y/N confirmed, having no ever-loving clue where he was going with this.

“So, you never went to that bar? Think back, do you ever remember walking by it, hearing about it from someone?” Yoongi pressed, even though Y/N was almost positive she had no knowledge of that bar prior to adopting Yoongi. “It was near Chinatown. By that basketball court you mentioned you used to pass by on your way to school.”

“No, I’m sorry Yoongi… I don’t remember ever going to a bar called The Black Lodge.”

Yoongi sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose delicately and nodding to himself.

“I might not have gone to that bar, but honestly, Yoongi, since I’ve adopted you, I couldn’t help but feel this sense of familiarity with you. It’s the strangest thing. Have we… Have we met before? Is that what you meant the other day, about forgetting someone you’ve met before?”

Yoongi glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, hope sparkling there. Was it true? They have met prior to that day at the shelter? Why couldn’t Y/N remember it?

“Maybe,” Yoongi straightened up, apparently wanting her to piece everything together herself. Y/N was trying, despairingly so, not believing she could ever meet Yoongi and forget him in a hurry.

“Maybe? Yoongi, be serious, have we met before? Why can’t you just tell me?” Y/N gave up her memory combing in favor of accusing Yoongi, her temper getting the best of her.

Yoongi stood, groaning in frustration. He strode across the room, shutting the French doors to the music room, effectively making their conversation private. For good measure, the leopard hybrid pressed down on the pin that locked them inside, to prevent interruptions. The hair on the back of Y/N’s neck stood on end, not expecting Yoongi to act that way.

“The Black Lodge, it was a fucked up place. I don’t really know exactly what was wrong with it, if it was cursed, some kind of fucking portal like those losers on paranormal shows you and Jeongguk watch talk about, or if it was built on a magical tectonic plate that made it the fucked up place that it was,” Yoongi collapsed onto the leather loveseat, head tipped back as he ranted.

“What do you mean?” Y/N furrowed her eyebrows, completely lost. Any sort of paranormal subject matter was something that didn’t typically interest Yoongi. He tolerated talking about it, but he wasn’t one to bring it up.

“What I mean, sweetheart, is that you were there. One year ago, you were in The Black Lodge, on a Friday night, by yourself. But you can’t remember, because everyone who comes into the bar forgets it as soon as they leave,” Yoongi finally revealed, his voice tired and resigned. “Me, being the fucked up exception, of course.”

A pin could drop, and it would sound like a gunshot. Y/N, who had been standing by the piano, began to feel dizzy from this confession, so she woodenly walked to the loveseat and dropped down heavily beside Yoongi. His spotted ears perked up with her movement, but he seemed to give her a few moments to process.

“How is that possible? It can’t be, there’s no way… there’s no way…” Y/N babbled, Yoongi using a hand to rub slow circles on her back. “I met you a year ago? How could I? How could I possibly forget you?”

“Everyone forgets The Black Lodge, except for those who actually work there, for some reason. Patrons forget, and they usually never come back. You were not exempt from that, no matter how much I wanted to believe you would be,” Yoongi murmured, and Y/N realized that he had been holding on to all of this information for months, probably waiting to see if she would ever recover the memory.

“Did we talk at all? Yoongi, I swear, I would have remembered if we did. This doesn’t make any sense,” Y/N started to feel delirious, staring at Yoongi imploringly.

Yoongi’s hand on her back became motionless, resting over a shoulder blade. Though he definitely looked relieved to finally be sharing all of this with her, Y/N could tell there were things that he was holding back. Reeling too much to pry, she waited for him to speak again.

“Yes, we talked. After I played piano for a bit, you approached me. I made you drinks, and we talked for a while.”

Expelling a breath she had been holding, Y/N took a look, a good look at Yoongi, soaking in every feature, every strand of hair on his head, the twitch of an ear, the shape of his jaw. That ever-present emotion, the sense of familiarity, returned tenfold, and suddenly she couldn’t deny that Yoongi was telling the truth.

“So you must have recognized me at the shelter? You should have said something, Yoongi,” Y/N said mournfully, feeling bad that he had been holding onto this for so long, waiting for her to remember him. It formed a sour pit in her stomach.

“I didn’t really know how to. I could tell the day you came in, you had no idea who I was,” Yoongi replied gently, still looking like he was holding onto a key bit of information. “You know, when you came in, I thought you recognized me, even though I was shifted. I thought you came back the next morning to adopt me, but then you adopted the other six as well…”

Y/N’s heart started to race, the conversation taking a more intimate, meaningful turn, and it had her head spinning.

“I couldn’t leave you all there,” Y/N breathed, Yoongi nodding along with her response.

“I know that. I also know you’re not totally well-versed in hybrid behavior, let alone for hybrids like all of us, but there’s something I should tell you. We’re not, by nature, entirely fond of having to share the human who adopts us. That’s why you’ve had a hard time with some of them, like Namjoon and Jeongguk. Myself, well, I wish I could say it didn’t bother me like it did them, but I’d be lying to you.”

“What?” Y/N, like she was shocked by a live wire, felt her stomach doing somersaults, the room becoming insufferably hot around her. “S-share me? I–”

“We’ve all made peace with it, of course,” Yoongi cut her off, not wanting to give her the wrong idea. “We’re all happy here, I think, with you. I just thought that telling you that would give you some perspective on the jealousy that will probably worsen over time.”

“Yoongi, I don’t even know what to say…”

“Y/N, I know how you feel,” Yoongi interrupted once more, his expression serious as his hand shifted from her shoulder blade to her upper arm. “About us, all of us. For now, I think I’m the only one who knows, but you can’t hide it from them forever.”

With this statement, Y/N actually flinched off of the loveseat, shooting across the room to gawk at Yoongi with astonishment.

“What are you talking about? The fact that I care about all of you? I think we’ve established that,” Y/N attempted to throw Yoongi off, just in case he was getting at what she thought he was. No way. Was she about to get rejected, her romantic feelings snuffed out like a flame?

“Call it that, sure, Y/N. Take your time to process your feelings, and we’ll talk about it then,” Yoongi sighed, standing and moving towards the door, apparently trying to end the conversation and move on with their evening. Not on Y/N’s watch.

“Oh, no way, Yoongi, you can’t just say something like that and expect me to drop it,” Y/N gripped his wrist, blood rushing in her ears as he looked down at her through his lashes. “Besides, there’s something you’re not telling me. The whole thing about us meeting at The Black Lodge and everything, it doesn’t add up.”

“How so?” Yoongi lifted a brow at the change of subject, eyes on her hand encircling his wrist.

“Well, if what you say is true, and everyone who patrons that bar forgets about it and never comes back, you’ve must have met thousands of people over the years. What about me was so memorable?” Y/N challenged, shock settling over Yoongi’s face, almost comically so.

“Are you serious?”

“Deadly. What, did I spill my drink on you?”

“No, I told you, we talked. I made you a drink, some kind of gin martini. You left, and you never came back,” Yoongi explained, his never-ending patience seemingly beginning to wear thin.

“What did we talk about?” Y/N began to pry, secretly pleased that she had distracted him enough to not press the whole ‘I know how you feel’ situation.

“I don’t know, Y/N, your classes? The weather, piano? Normal stuff.”

“So talking about university classes, the shitty weather, and music left enough of an impression on you to recognize me after a year?”

“What exactly do you want me to say, sweetheart? I can’t help that I remember that night and you don’t!” Yoongi exclaimed, his voice raising a tad as annoyance washed over him.

“I want you to tell me what you’re keeping from me.”

They glared at each other, the only sound in the room from the metronome ticking away on the piano that Yoongi had forgotten to switch off. Shaking her grip from his wrist, Yoongi pushed back some of his hair again, sucking his teeth.

“Fine. You asked for my number,” Yoongi admitted, watching Y/N’s expression carefully.

“Okay, yeah, that sounds like me. Again, something that probably happened to you all the time, I mean look at you,” Y/N was unconvinced this was the bombshell, Yoongi making a noise of exasperation. “I’m just going to assume you let me down gently, I was tipsy, and I said something embarrassing. Trying to pry this out of you is like pulling teeth, and I should get going on dinner.”

With that, Y/N unlocked the door to the music room, marching out into the hallway in embarrassment and making it halfway to the stairs before a grasp on her elbow yanked her back, Y/N’s world turning upside-down as Yoongi easily slung her over his shoulders in a fireman’s carry. Too stunned to make a noise, she limply felt Yoongi carry her into his bedroom, kicking his door shut behind them and setting her down on her feet, his eyes flashing with anger.

“Will you just listen to me for a second?” Yoongi hissed, clamping his wiry hand over her mouth before she could cuss him out. This was her first spat with Yoongi, and it had her blood positively boiling. Shouldn’t this have been a tender moment, finding out that she really had known Yoongi all along?

“You came into the bar, torn up over a shitty exam result. I noticed you sitting at the bar while I finished up my set, but when I got up, you were heading my way. You complimented my playing and whatnot, and complained that the drink the bartender made you wasn’t stiff enough,” Yoongi articulated each word with precision, as if he was reliving the memory mentally. “I offered to make one for you. Like I said, we talked about your classes, the weather, music, and as the night went on, more personal things. You told me about your house, your friends, your family. I liked talking to you, so I sat beside you and we continued our conversation.”

Under his palm, Y/N’s cheeks were burning up, and she knew that Yoongi could feel it. She was hooked on every word, and she was convinced there was nothing in this world that existed other than Yoongi.

“After a while, you asked me to show you where the bathroom was, and that you were thinking about heading out. I waited for you outside of the bathroom to say goodbye– I didn’t really want to, because I knew I’d never see you again, but I figured I’d have to suck it up– and you walked right up to me, pushed me against a wall–”

Y/N yelped from beneath Yoongi’s palm, ice-cold dread flooding through her. Oh no, she threw herself at him. He was right, she was better off not knowing. He pressed on, ignoring the noise she made.

“You pushed me against the wall, dug a pen out of your purse, and demanded that I write my number down on your forearm. That, I promise you, hasn’t happened before. I’ve gotten numbers, but I never handed mine out– what’s the point, if they don’t remember you?”

When Yoongi was satisfied Y/N wouldn’t start hollering at him, he dropped his palm, tracing a pointer finger down the length of Y/N’s forearm, goosebumps following in its wake. Heart still pounding, Y/N found that she was sufficiently shut up.

“For the first time, I had hope that someone would remember me, outside of coworkers. Hope that you’d walk out of that fucking bar, go home, pick up the phone, and call. Remember. As I was writing my number down, you grabbed my hand, led me down the hall towards the kitchens for ‘one more drink’. I think we did a couple of shots of gin, but the possibility of you calling me the next day was fucking with my head too much to really focus on what the fuck we were drinking.”

“Yoongi,” Y/N whispered, overwhelmed and on the verge of passing out, honestly devastated she couldn’t remember this evening with Yoong.

“Before you left, I walked you to the door. You were talking about how you wanted to take me to this concert the following Friday, making all these future plans. I just… never met anyone like you. I didn’t want you to leave, but I wanted you to leave just to see if you’d come back.”

“And I never did,” Y/N finished for him, hating the way Yoongi looked so regretful. “You waited, didn’t you?”

“Yeah, I waited. I knew it wasn’t your fault, it was the fucking curse or whatever on the bar, but I waited. Each day that passed I grew less and less hopeful, until I realized you likely walked out of that bar and wondered why the hell you had a strange number on your arm.”

“Yoongi, I’m sorry,” Y/N sniffed, overcome with emotion. “I’m so sorry.”

“It isn’t your fault, it’s the bar, and whatever is wrong with it,” Yoongi shook his head, guiding Y/N to lean against his wall for support, her knees shaky and unsteady. “In the end, I got to see you again, after all.”

“I must have really liked talking to you, huh? Just like now. And you must have made me one hell of a drink to push you against a wall and demand for your number,” Y/N tried to lighten the mood, now angry with herself that she had backed Yoongi into a corner.

“Yeah, I really liked talking to you too. I really liked you.”

An odd look crossed over Yoongi’s face as soon as those words left his mouth, absently reaching down to tuck hair behind Y/N’s ear. Heart galloping in her chest at the gravity, the meaning of what he just said, Y/N wanted to reach out and touch him, but was completely frozen. Yoongi’s lips dropped open to say something, but no sound came out.

“What is it?” Y/N murmured, noting how close they were standing.

“There’s something else I haven’t told you,” Yoongi’s gaze was intense, penetrating, and pleading. “I don’t know how you’ll react, though.”

“I’m sure there’s nothing that can shock me now, angel…” Y/N had motion in her limbs again, hand on Yoongi’s cheek to tilt his face back to her, his eyes searching and unsure.

He leaned his cheek into her touch before pulling her hand away, still holding it and watching her every reaction. His tail, which was anxiously swishing behind him, began to curl around her leg, and Y/N stood transfixed as Yoongi pressed a featherlight kiss to the inside of her wrist, her palm, and finally the pad of her index finger.

“That night, before you left. Before I said goodbye,” Yoongi whispered against her hand, maintaining their eye contact. “You asked me to kiss you, and I did.”

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

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

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gojos-thot-patrol · 8 months

Text

I've been promising this one for awhile.

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Starring: Mafia Boss!Sukuna

My contribution to @chrollohearttags Tales from the Underbelly collab! In which Gojo accidentally kidnaps the wrong girl, and our "heroes" have to decide what to do with her.

Content includes: slow burn smut, cunnilingus, multiple orgasms, blood kink if ya squint, and slight indulgence of the writers breeding kink.

Trigger warnings include: Kidnapping, gun violence, gore, a dog attack, an attempt at assault and the use of the word "ravenette" once as a dare. Reader discretion is advised.

Your mom had warned you about meeting strange men online. You had assumed at the time it was just her weird boomer-esque tendencies, a fear born before the time of tinder. But as you breathed in your own breath from inside this itchy burlap sack, sitting tied up in this not-at-all comfortable chair, you started to think maaaybe she was on to something.

It wasn’t your fault though, truly it wasn’t. This guy was hot. Like, unbelievably hot. So hot it was stupid. So hot he belonged on the cover of french magazines or in summer blockbuster movies that sell tickets not for the plot- but for the eye candy. Who wouldn’t risk life and limb to get a piece of that? You wondered if Satoru Gojo was his real name, just in case you needed to make a police report. You wondered if you’d get that far.

Okay, Y/n, no no, don’t think like that. That will get you killed. Calm down and assess the situation. What did you last remember? Your date. You met him at a bar, and was genuinely shocked when he matched his profile picture. You made idle chit chat, and your drink came. Did you order that drink? You couldn’t remember now. You did remember it tasting salty for a screwdriver though…

Shit, that guy definitely drugged you. Why?! It made no sense, you probably would have fucked him if he had just asked nicely! Hell, even if he had asked rudely, there was no need for this! You silenced your thoughts as you heard movement. A door opened and the sound of boots on concrete echoed through a far too big to be practical room. And then, a familiar voice.

“No dude, I got her!” That was definitely Gojo, the fuck ass. “It was so easy too.” He was laughing, because of course he was.

“Yea, that’s the problem. Excuse me for being suspicious, but this feels way too easy considering how long we’ve been chasing this woman,” another, much smoother voice said. Oh god, what the fuck had you gotten yourself into now? Why the fuck did weird shit always have to happen to you? It was like you were the main character in some fucked up wattpad, or Tumblr, fanfiction.

“Nah dude, it’s the real deal. Toji doesn’t keep his girl as wrapped up as we’ve been led to believe.” Gojo’s far-too-joyful-for-your-taste voice came again. It was much closer this time. Your body tensed as you realized the two of them were right next to you. “I matched with her on fucking tinder dude! All according to plan!”

“We’ll see about that.” Smoothie voice said. As he did, the bag was ripped off your head, and quite honestly you were too shocked to scream. You took the situation in front of you in with wide panicked eyes. There was your shitty date, looking far too proud of himself considering all he did was kidnap a helpless girl. And another man, crouched in front of your metal chair, taking in your features. Was this just a gang of people that was so attractive it was unfair? He ran a hand though his long dark hair, and knitted his perfectly sculpted eyebrows together as he looked at you. Then shook his head and stood up.

“You really did it now, idiot, that’s the wrong girl!” The ravenette snapped at your former tinder match. Satoru just blinked in disbelief.

“What?” He asked, and Oh boy, your brain started working again! Just in time for you to start screaming at the top of your lungs as the truly horrifying nature of your situation settled into your bones. This startled the men, causing them both to scream, and the dark haired one to even stumble away from you.

“That was such a late reaction!!” Gojo yelled at you as he finally found words again.

“FUCK YOU SATORU GOJO, WHEN YOU KILL ME, I SWEAR I’M GOING TO HAUNT YOUR ASS!” You screamed at him, deciding if you were gonna die here you might as well fling a few threats around.

“You used your real name for the honeytrap?!” The unnamed man hissed, punching Gojo in the shoulder.

“Hey!” Gojo yelped, “I thought it was her! I didn’t think it was gonna matter! What are we going to do Suguru?!” Oh, so Suguru was his name. Good to know.

“Don’t say my name!” Suguru snapped. Too late, you knew it already. “The boss is not going to be happy, you know this, right?”

“Well I mean, I-” Gojo started, before you cut in.

“Can I at least know why you guys are gonna kill me before it happens?” You asked. You wanted to know what to avoid for your next life. Gojo had the audacity to scoff at you.

“Wow, I was literally talking and you interrupted me,” He scoffed, “Rude much?”

“Oh, I’m sorry, I’ll try to be more considerate of the man who drugged and kidnapped me next time I open my mouth! As if that wasn’t rude as hell!” You hissed.

“Get married later, we have other problems!” Suguru demanded, snapping in front of Satoru to get his attention. “The boss is going to be here any minute, and we have the wrong girl!”

“Why don’t we just kill her?” Gojo asked. And look at that, you were screaming again. They both screamed with you, Suguru screaming over you and adding a “CAN WE PLEASE ALL STOP SCREAMING?!” at the end.

And you did, because technically he had done nothing to wrong you, and you had no beef with him. Satoru shut up when you did. “Thank you!” He snapped, closing his eyes and rubbing his temples to try and fight off the migraine that was forming. “No, Gojo, we can’t just kill her! She’s an innocent, it goes against the code. You and I both know The Boss would have you castrated if you break the code.” Suguru reminded the man next to him. Oh, that was good news.

“So, I’m not gonna die?” You asked.

“You’re not gonna die.” “Nothing is off the table yet.” The men spoke in unison, glaring at each other as they finished their sentences.

“Sooooooo, you’re gonna let me go?!” You asked, beaming with a forced excitement, hoping it would rub off on them and they’d untie you then and there.

“It’s not that easy.” Suguru sighed, “If we let you go now, you’d definitely go to the cops, and you know at least his full name.” He said, glaring at Satoru once again.

“What if I promise not to go to the cops?” You asked.

“You and I both know that won’t work.” He looked almost sympathetic to your plight.

“What if I pinky swear not to go?” You asked. His sympathy vanished.

“In another life, you two are perfect for each other.” He scoffed to Gojo. Mere seconds after he said that, the door behind you opened again. Both men turned their full attention to the footsteps approaching, both looking terrified- though Gojo more than Suguru. You tried to look behind you, but alas, you were not an owl and could not turn your head 360 degrees around.

“What did you two idiots fuck up now?” A low, gravely voice asked behind you.

“What?!” Gojo tried to look offended, “Boss, I’m hurt! Why would you assume we fucked up?” he pouted. Suguru just dropped his head into his hands.

“Because it’s you Satoru, and when I came in here, you both looked at me like I was the cops and you had a corpse.” The voice scoffed, “And that never bodes well. Is that the girl?”

“So, you see, about that-” Suguru started, only to be cut off by a new man shoving his face in yours. The club of people that won the genetic lottery grew, and you hated to admit he was the sexiest member yet. Sharp features made more pronounced by a faceful of tattoos that absolutely shouldn't have been as attractive as they were. Hard eyes seemed to glow an unnatural red in the dim light of this garage(?) and his fluffy pink hair seemed both horrifically misplaced on his head, and perfectly matched all at the same time. Suddenly, you weren’t worried about your future. You were wondering what choices you had to make to sit on that perfectly sculpted face.

WAIT FOCUS Y/N, YOU’VE BEEN KIDNAPPED! You flinched away from him, tensing up because well…that’s what people do in these situations, right? You saw a tic form in his perfect jaw, and he stood up. You got a good look at what he was wearing. Fitted slacks with a dress shirt, a well tailored vest on top making him ooze with expense. The others were dressed nice too, but he somehow managed to outshine them all. Maybe its because his sleeves were rolled up, showing off his tattooed wrists and gorgeous forearms. God truly did have favorites.

“You.” He demanded more than asked, turning to Gojo and pointing at him.

“Yes Sukuna?” Gojo asked, and Suguru couldn’t hold back the groan that ripped from his throat.

“Stop using names you fucking idiot.” Suguru hissed. So his name was Sukuna.

“Gojo come here.” Sukuna said again, instantly shutting up both men. Gojos eyes grew even wider with fear.

“I, um…I’d rather not boss, I-...You’re gonna hurt me.” Gojo gulped.

“I’m not gonna hurt you.” Sukuna assured him, and for a second he sounded so sincere and comforting, even you believed him.

“D-...Do you promise?” Gojo asked, trepidation still flooding his voice.

“I promise, I’m not going to hurt you.” Sukuna said again. Slowly, like a wild animal learning to trust, Satrou crept over to his boss. It was then you noticed Sukuna’s rings. You noticed them, because the moment Satoru was in bitch slapping range, he got bitch slapped with the ring hand, so hard that if Suguru hadn’t been there to catch him, he would have hit the floor.

“You said you weren’t gonna hurt me!” Gojo yelped. Suguru shook his head, unable to believe his friend fell for that.

“I lied!” The pink haired man snapped, “How’s it feel to be lied to Satoru?! Do you like it?! I know I sure fucking don’t.” He hissed as he slapped him again, “You said you had Toji’s wife! That’s not Toji’s fucking wife you imbecile!”

“Ha, take that asshat, that’s what you get!” You laughed, taking maybe a little bit too much joy in Satoru’s pain. And suddenly, all three men were staring at you. You shrunk a bit at the realization. “My bad, I shouldn’t have spoke,” You muttered, “I’ll let y'all get back to it.”

Sukuna took a long deep breath to try and reregulate himself before turning back to you. “Hi.” He said, giving a smile that you think was meant to be welcoming, but his naturally sharp canines just made it menacing. “Who are you?” He asked.

“I don’t know if it’s safe to tell you my name…” You muttered softly.

“You’re already tied up under my house babe, little late to be shy now.” He pointed out. Fair enough.

“Y/n Y/l/n.” You said. He nodded and gave a small wave.

"Hi Y/n. So what all do you kn-"

"Wait, what's your name?" You asked, cutting off a clearly powerful man. “Is Sukuna like, a title, or?” He stopped mid sentence and blinked at you, bringing his hands together in a death grip so he didn’t punch the disrespect out of your mouth.

“Sorry, you threw me off. I’m not used to being interrupted.” He said through gritted teeth.

“That’s a common problem for her!” Gojo accused from Suguru’s arms, pointing for emphasis. This quickly got him dropped. Sukuna glared at him.

“If you know what’s good for you, you’ll stop talking.” He threatened Gojo before turning back to you. “My name’s not important right now. What is important is finding out just how much you know. So start talking doll.” He said, going into his back pocket to pull out a pack of cigarettes.

“So, before I answer, am I more likely or less likely to go home based on how much I know?” You asked, “Cause I’d like to go home in one piece.” The pink haired man laughed at your words as he lit his smoke. Well, laughed is a strong word. More like he aggressively blew air out of his nose, like when you see a funny meme.

“That’s cute Dollface,” He muttered, blowing the smoke out of his lungs, “Answer my question.”

“You answer mine first.”

“No, I won’t.”

“Come on dude, I only want you to answer one question-”

“You only want one question answered?” It did suck to be interrupted, “Fine, I’m Sukuna. Now what do you know about us?” You were confused at first, until you realized he was answering one question you asked. Just not the question you wanted answered. Well shit.

“I know his name is Satoru Gojo, his is Suguru, you’re Sukuna, and you guys are looking for some guy named Toji’s wife. Oh, and Gojo takes dick pics with a ring light.” Sukuna closed his eyes and scrunched his eyebrows at that last part, riding out the cringe wave.

“Dude, you don’t really do that, do you?” Suguru whispered to the man next to him.

“Good lighting makes the picture Suguru.” Gojo whispered back.

“We didn’t need to know that.” Sukuna said, opening his eyes again.

“You asked what I knew.” You said, shrugging as best as you could considering you were tied up.

“What are we going to do Boss?” Suguru asked, getting the team back on track. Sukuna took a long drag off his cigarette, trying to find an answer to that question. You were innocent, nowhere near the syndicates radar. You were a victim of them, it wasn’t fair to kill you for the crime of matching with a loser on tinder. It also went against what they stood for. At the same time though, they couldn’t just let you leave. You knew all of their names, for Satoru you knew his full name. Not only that, there was the risk of you letting it slip they were looking for Toji’s wife. Though, Toji probably knew that, all things considered. She did have a hit called out on Nanami after all, he’d be stupid not to assume they were looking for her. Fuck.

“Bring her upstairs.” Sukuna finally said, rubbing his temple with his free hand. He wondered why he kept Gojo on the payroll. “She’s our guest until further notice.” Suguru and Satoru shared a knowing glance before going and untying you.

“So you’re letting me go?!” You asked hopefully.

“Not quite,” Sukuna informed you, “Until we can find a more…permanent situation for you, you’re now the property of The Syndicate. Make yourself at home Doll.” He said as he put his cigarette back in his mouth.

“Hold on, what?!” You asked, struggling against Gojo and Suguru as they tried to drag you upstairs, “Wait, property?! Wait, hold on!” You yelped. Suguru rolled his eyes, deciding it was easier to just throw you over his shoulder at this point. “Hey! Put me down!”

“I don’t understand why you’re bitching, I thought you didn’t want to die?” He asked. And suddenly, this was all put into perspective for you. You either play nice, or you take a prolonged dirt nap. Shit. Not great options. You decided death wasn’t what you wanted, they did imply this was only temporary after all. You sighed and accepted your fate, going limp on Suguru’s shoulder.

The sudden bright lights of the house blinded you after so long in the dim basement. You were happy when Suguru finally put you down, less so when you heard a giant dog barking, and claws scraping on hardwood. You turned around in enough time to see an absolutely massive Rottweiler running at you full speed, teeth bared. You yelped, going to try and hide behind Suguru or hell even Gojo, only to find they had already backed way the hell up; giving the beast room to turn you into dog food. You closed your eyes and tensed your body as you braced for impact.

The impact never came. When you opened your eyes, all you found was a dopey smile sitting politely in front of you, panting while waiting for pets. “Aww,” You smiled, reaching down to give him some ear scratches. His already wagging tail kicked it into high gear as you did, melting your heart. “You’re just a big baby, aren’t you?” You cooed in your baby voice.

Sukuna came up from the stairs then, rolling his eyes at the scene. “Wow Brutus, good job buddy, you’re so good at being a guard dog. No ones gonna break in here, lest they get drooled on.” He scoffed.

“To be fair, Brutus’ slobber is a genuinely terrifying thing.” Suguru pointed out.

“It gets everywhere.” Gojo confirmed.

“I think you guys are just cowards.” You shrugged, petting the good boy on they head.

“They are.” Sukuna confirmed, also giving Brutus a solid pat for good measure. He turned to you then. “Come on, I’ll show you to your room.”

“My room?” You questioned.

“That’s what I said,” His voice had an edge to it, like he was losing his patience with every second that passed. He turned to Gojo and Suguru. “Gojo, you know where she lives right?”

“Yea, I do.” He nodded. You did not like what that implied, considering you hadn’t given him your address. But, you were already kidnapped, so, maybe it was a little late to worry.

“Good. Take Geto and go grab her essentials. Clothes, toothbrush-”

“Oh, my switch!” You added. Sukuna glared at you from the corners of his eyes. “What?” You asked, “Someone’s gotta take care of my animal crossing island!” Sukuna closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

“Her switch, I fucking guess, and bring it back here.” He said, “Don’t fuck it up.” He wasn’t sure how they would fuck it up to be fair, but they had surprised him before.

“Got it Boss!” Satoru said, saluting Sukuna before grabbing Suguru and heading for the door.

“Oh, and Gojo?” Sukuna called right before they reached the door. Gojo froze.

“Yea Boss?”

“We’re not done here. See me when you get back.” His voice was dark. Nothing he said was threatening, but if that was true then why were the hairs on the back of your neck standing up? And why did Gojo physically cringe, as if future him was giving him a taste of pain yet to come?

“Understood Boss.” He said, leaving with Suguru. And with that, you were alone with a mob boss. Sukuna turned to you, blatantly eyeing you up. You suddenly felt shy under his gaze.

“Come on, your room is upstairs.” He said, moving past you to an opulent staircase on the opposite wall of the living room. You followed him, not really sure what else to do.

“You know, you’re surprisingly calm about all of this.” Sukuna said as the two of you climbed the stairs, “Not gonna lie, I kinda expected you to like…argue with me about all of this.”

“Do you want me to argue with you?” You asked.

“No, not really. I’m just curious about why you’re not.” He explained.

“Rent’s expensive,” You shrugged, “I was like, a week away from eviction.” You admitted, looking down to try and hide your shame. It wasn’t like you had done anything wrong either. You had done everything right, followed all the money tips you could, given up iced coffee. Turns out, rent is substantially more expensive than iced coffee and when your job doesn't pay a living wage, well- living is hard. “Honestly, I kinda need a place to crash.”

“Oh, I see. Well, lucky you then.” He chuckled softly as you reached the top of the staircase. You didn’t know if you’d call yourself lucky, but, you’d take what you could get. “Here, this one’s yours.” Sukuna said, opening a door to the right. You walked into an extravagant red room, a giant bed covered in black silk with a tall canopy sat as the center piece with a black wardrobe off to the side.

“Is this like, your sex room?” You asked, your mouth moving faster than your brain. He gave a short snappy ‘HA!’ at your joke, shaking his head softly.

“Yeah, you wish.” He accused, and yeah he was right. You kinda did wish. “This is just the guest room.”

“So…Do I live with you now?” You asked as you moved to sit on the bed. A reasonable question. Sukuna leaned against the doorway, moving his head back and fourth in the universal motion of ‘I have no fucking idea, give me a sec while I think of what to say.’

“Eh, “live” is a strong word.” He finally said with a shrug. “You’re just here until we can come up with a better solution.” He explained. You nodded, accepting that you weren’t going to get a straight answer- because he didn’t have one to give.

“Well that’s exciting.” You mumbled, trying to rub the tired out of your eyes. It had been a long day.

“Don’t worry. I’m sure we’ll figure out what to do with you in a few days.” He tried to comfort you, before finally leaving you alone.

🚬🚬🚬

A few days had quickly turned into a few weeks. You had acclimated to your new life well, learning when to ask questions and when not to. Brutus had become your best friend, and Sukuna your odd roommate who left at weird times in the night. You were more comfortable with your situation than you were willing to admit. Turns out, you weren’t above all those other Y N girlies that immediately got stockholm syndrome after a day of kidnapping.

Still, that didn’t mean you felt particularly safe. The moment you started to, something happened. The very next time you saw Gojo after he left to grab your things, his arm was in a cast. You would hear screaming- or worse begging- from the basement. An already hushed conversation would fall completely silent as you came down the stairs. There was always something to remind you that you were not here of your own free will.

“Ummm…Shota?” You asked from your spot on the couch, watching him put on his jacket.

“Nope.”

“Hmmm…Akira?” Your relationship with Sukuna was an odd one. The two of you had grown comfortable with each others presence, enough that you would find yourself casually hanging out with him, or in this case, pestering him as you tried to guess his first name.

“Wrong again.” He said, checking the jacket to make sure his cigarettes were in one of the pockets. They weren’t.

“Yuji?”

“Gross no- Do I look like a Yuji to you?” That one seemed to genuinely offend him a bit. You had to be getting close.

“Yagi?”

“Y/n, why does it matter to you so much that you know my first name?” He asked, grabbing his smokes from the end table next to the couch. He made eye contact with you when he did it, and you felt your stomach flutter. That was another thing that was quickly developing. It seemed like every day it took less and less from him to make you flustered.

“Cause you know mine!” You said, pressing your thighs together to push back your less than holy thoughts. “It only seems fair that I should know yours too.”

“I’m not interested in what’s fair Doll, you should know that.” He said, grabbing his keys off the hook by the door. You hated when he called you Doll, mostly because of how much you loved it when he called you Doll. It always stirred something in you that you tried to suppress, something you knew would make an already not ideal situation worse. Admitting you had feelings for Sukuna felt akin to a death sentence right now, especially considering the very real likelihood that they were one sided.

“If you weren’t interested in what’s fair, you would have killed me by now!” You pointed out.

“Don’t forget to feed Brutus, I’ll be home late.” He completely ignored your very valid point. You huffed as you watched him walk out of the door. Bastard. Asshole. Tyrant, even! In the space between where your true feelings were-and what you were willing to admit to feeling- resentment grew. He had ripped you from the life you had built before, and cultivated this caricature of intimacy that he fully expected you to participate in; all while refusing to give you information as basic as his first name. It wasn’t just unfair, at times it felt cruel.

A soft whine from the nearby kitchen brought you back to reality. You smiled softly at the gentle giant waiting for dinner. “You hungry buddy?” You asked, laughing at his happy woof as you got up to fill his bowl.

You went about your nightly routine as you normally did, minus dinner with Sukuna, ending the night curled up on the couch in your pajamas with Brutus, reading one of the many books that littered the mansion. You couldn’t focus on the words though, your mind finding the ticking of the clock much more interesting. Something was off. You looked up to see that it was already 5 AM. Sukuna was prone to coming home late, but never this late. Something was wrong.

You weren’t sure what to do here. You were captive here, it’s not like you had access to a phone. Even if you did, who would you call? You knew Nanami was his most reliable comrade, but if Sukuna was in trouble there was a 70% chance Nanami was too. Suguru? Maybe, but- you shook your head as you realized none of this mattered when you had zero way of contacting any of these men. You could try and go look for him yourself, but you knew the door was locked. It needed a code to be opened, a code you didn’t have. Brutus whined from beside you, feeding off your nervous energy. Your fingers felt numb as you mindlessly chewed your nails, failing to think of anything other than where Sukuna was at that moment.

“Where are you Suka-” It was like you summoned him, before you could even finish your sentence the door exploded open and he came tumbling inside. You thought having him come home would be a relief, but the blood covering his side washed away any possible relief that could have come from his return.

“Motherfucker-” Was all he could get out before collapsing against the wall next to the door.

“Sukuna!” You yelled, rushing to his side, “Sukuna, holy shit, what happened?!” You demanded, wrapping his arm around your shoulders while you tried to lead him to the couch. You thought it would have been harder, moving a wall of muscle that much bigger than you any amount. But it turns out, adrenaline really is one hell of a drug!

“I got shot, what’s it look like happened?!” He snapped, hissing through his teeth as you placed him on the couch. Suddenly, you understood why everything in this house was red. He almost disappeared into the scarlet couch, the red consuming him, threatening to take him away. “Brutus! First Aid!” He yelled, before groaning in pain. Somewhere along the way, he lost his jacket, making it a lot easier for you to rip off his bloodied dress shirt.

Oh man, that was bad. You weren’t even queasy around blood, but there was a lot here. Before you could get too much in your head and lose your dinner, you felt a fuzzy head nudge into your leg. You looked down to see Brutus looking up at you, first aid kit hanging from his mouth. He was officially the smartest dumb dog you had ever met.

“Oh, Good boy Brutus!” You praised, scratching the sides of his face and his floppy ears.

“Y/n, losing blood kinda fast over here!” Sukuna reminded, quickly snapping you back into the severity of the moment.

“Right, sorry!” You yelped, opening the kit. Of course Sukuna wouldn’t have a normal first aid kit. This was one of the most extensive kits you’d seen. You pulled the latex gloves over your hands before straddling his lap, trying to get a better look at him. Three bullet wounds, one logged into his shoulder, one to his side under his rib cage, and one that just grazed his side. You could still see the bullet in the first two.

“Oh jesus..” You muttered, grabbing the long glorified tweezers from the kit, “So, uh, this is gonna hurt.” You said, mouth moving without your mind.

“Oh, that so?!” He snapped, “I thought it was gonna feel like fucking butterfly kisses!” Oh man, he was starting to look pale.

“Okay, well now I’m not sorry for this.” You muttered, digging the tweezers into his shoulder to get the bullet. He hissed sharply through his teeth, hands finding your hips and grabbing you hard enough to bruise. This was not the scenario you thought of when you imagined Sukuna bruising your hips, but life is often funny that way.

“Okay, that’s one out.” You said as you extracted the metal. He let out a shallow breath, trying hard to regulate his breathing.

“Fuck Y/n..” He whined, and you felt your chest burn. You wondered if that’s what he would sound like on to-NOPE not the time to think like that!

“I’m going to get the second one now, okay?” You asked. He nodded, his body tensing against his will in anticipation. This one was deeper. You watched his abs flex as he moaned in pain, biting his lip to concentrate on anything other than the searing pain in his abdomen. This would be a lot easier if he could stop being hot for like, five seconds. “I’m sorry.” You muttered softly, wishing there was anything you could do to help with the pain.

“Don’t- Don’t.” You could tell he wanted to say more, but he just couldn’t. You finally pulled the final bullet out. You pulled the bottle of iodine out of the kit, assuming it was for disinfecting- something he was going to desperately need. You wanted to suggest a hospital, but you knew better. A hospital meant cops, and he couldn’t have that. Especially not right now. So you poured a generous amount of the iodine on his wounds, only for him to scream.

“AAH, WHY WOULD YOU DO THAT?!” He yelped as a new wave of pain scorched it’s way through his body.

“I THOUGHT IT WAS A DISINFECTANT!” You yelled in panic, using a piece of gauze to try and wipe it up.

“YEAH, FOR BURNS.”

“THEN WHAT AM I SUPPOSED TO USE?!”

“WATER!!” Oh yeah, that checked. The bottle of distilled water in the kit made a lot more sense now. You opened it, using that to clean his wounds instead, and using it to try and wash away some of the dried blood in the process.

“Shit, I’m sorry! I’m not a nurse, okay!?” You tried to defend yourself in a panic. Then it dawned on you the next step in the process. “I wasn’t very good at home ec either...” You confessed.

“What does that have to do with- Oh god.” He threw his head back on the couch as he realized stitches were next. He closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths before pulling his head back up, his eyes meeting yours almost instantly. It was like he was searching your very soul for something, though you had no idea what he was trying to find. You wanted to shrink away, but you found yourself trapped by his gaze.

“I trust you Y/n. Don’t fuck me up.” He finally said. You wondered how he could be so confident in anything while bleeding out on a couch, but you guessed that was a question for some other time. You nodded, grabbing the surgical needle and thread. It couldn’t be that hard, right? In one side and out the other. You had this.

He sucked in a sharp breath through his teeth as you made the first sitch, digging his nails into your hips and subconsciously pulling you closer. He flinched at the second stitch, bucking his hips into yours in the process.

“Hold still!” You chastised him. You really wished all of this was happening under different circumstances. You realized this was probably the closest you had ever been to him. Focus Y/n, focus! You finished his shoulder, before moving on to the one in his side, and finishing with the gash. You were shocked how good your stitches were when you weren’t over thinking it. Not perfect by any means, but far better than you thought.

“Okay, the worst is over.” You said, pushing his damp hair out of his face gently. He looked at you through his eyelashes, an expression you had no hope of reading on his face. You cleared your throat before grabbing the gauze to bandage him up. He was quiet while you worked. You had almost finished with the bandages when he spoke again.

“Ryomen.” He finally said.

“What?” You asked, confusion leaking into your voice as you finished wrapping up the last wound. You looked at him.

“My name’s Ryomen.” You weren’t sure what you expected him to say after all of this, but it definitely wasn’t that. You stared at him, trying to figure out how to process any of what the fuck just happened. Was this your life now? Was this your forever? He brought a shaky hand to the side of your face, brushing away a tear you didn’t even know was there.

“Why are you cryin’ Doll?” He asked softly. His eyes didn’t have the edge you were so used to in them. Be it from the blood loss or him being grateful for your subpar nursing, all of his edges had been rounded down to soft bumps.

“I thought I was going to lose you..” You whimpered softly.

“Oh, Y/n,” He cooed softly, “I’m not going anywhere.” He promised, pressing his forehead to yours. “Don’t cry over me.” He lazily rubbed your cheek with his thumb, trying to comfort you despite the fact he was the one that had just got shot, multiple times. You were sure the blood loss was getting to his head, this was far too intimate. Far too sweet. The stress of the situation hit you all at once, the adrenaline leaving your body as distress took it’s place.

You took a jagged breath in, realizing you were crying as you did so. He quietly pulled you into a hug, pressing you into his chest. The steady beat of his heart admittedly brought you some comfort, reminding you that he was alive and well-ish. You weren’t sure when you fell asleep. When you woke up in your room the next morning, you were convinced it was all a bad dream. Surely he wouldn’t have been able to lug your sleeping body to your room after all of that, right?

The faint blood stains on the couch told a different story.

🚬🚬🚬

If you thought your relationship with Ryomen was weird before, it was really weird now. Before, you were positive you had a one sided crush. Something brought on by proximity and not much else, and a feeling he most definitely did not share. Now though? Now you were sure there was something else there, and that he felt it too. It showed itself in small ways. In the way he brushed against you when you were cooking together, in the way Suguru’s job had gotten significantly harder when Ryomen had noticed how close the two of you had gotten, and in the way he had gotten more protective of you than he had ever been before.

“Oh Suge Knight totally had 2pac killed.” Suguru said with a shrug.

“No way, that doesn’t make sense!” You argued, “Why would he call a hit on his best selling artist?”

“To take control of his catalog, duh,” He said this as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, “More money to be made if you don’t have an artist to pay.”

“Yeah, except now there’s no artist to make more music and therefore more money!” you pointed out, “Besides, why would he have a car he’s in get shot up?”

“So people ask that exact question!” Suguru argued, waving his hands for emphasis.

“Do you two have nothing better to talk about than decades old conspiracy theories?” Ryomen asked as he entered the kitchen, walking up to the bar where you sat with Suguru. He always seemed annoyed when the two of you hung out together. The toxic part of your brain liked it. Satoru wasn’t far behind him, his wrist still in a brace from a months old injury. You felt a little bad when you saw it these days. It must have been a nasty shatter.

“I’d argue there’s no better topic of conversation than decades old murder conspiracies.” Satoru said, taking a seat next to Suguru.

“I’d argue you’re the last person I’d consider an authority on topics of conversation.” Nanami said, suddenly alerting you to his presence. That man was like a ghost, you only saw him when he wanted you to. He moved over to the fridge, pulling out a beer and using the counter to open it. A move that would get Satoru or Suguru a one way ticket to the afterlife, completely ignored by Ryomen because Nanami was useful.

“Y/n, I need you to go to your room.” Ryomen said, checking his watch. “Sooner rather than later.”

“What, why?” You asked, not a fan of being kicked out of the kitchen you now considered to be yours.

“Because I told you to. Don’t come out until I come get you.” His tone left no room for argument or conversation. You bit your tongue, knowing better than to undermine him in front of his men, especially his lieutenants.

“Whatever.” You groaned as you left, going and locking yourself in your room. As much as it annoyed you, this was fairly common at this point. Whenever the boys had “Official Business” you’d be banished to your bedroom until they deemed it safe for you to be let free. A very clear reminder that you were an outsider here. You weren’t in your room long before there was a knock on your door.

“Already?!” You asked.

“No.” Nanami said, “I’m here to deliver Brutus.” Confused, you went and opened the door. Sure enough, Brutus came barreling into the room as the door opened, going and jumping onto your bed. “Boss wants him to be with you.” Nanami said, as if that was going to answer your puzzled look.

“Why? What’s going on?” You asked in a hushed tone. Nanami's eyes darted over to the staircase, making sure no one was coming up them.

“A representative of Naoya Zenin is going to be here tonight.” Zenin. You heard that name enough before to know he was one of Ryomen’s rivals, someone previously teamed up with Toji.

“What? Why is he sending someone here?”

“Fushiguru has been shorting him and his team when it comes to their cut of narcotics sales. Considering they’re the ones making all the drugs Toji sells, he’s not happy about it. So he’s looking to start a partnership with us instead.” You were thankful for Nanami. Everyone else here treated you like a delicate flower: like telling you what was going on would make you wilt. Nanami had always kept it straight with you, telling you the facts as they were. To him, you were just as involved as they all were, even if that was only due to your proximity to it all.

“And he’s not showing up himself?” You asked, remembering that Nanami had said a representative of his was coming. He shrugged.

“What can I say? The man’s a coward.” There was a knock on the door after he said that, signaling to him that he needed to get back downstairs. “Stay safe Y/n.” He said, turning to join the others.

“You too.” You responded, but you were pretty sure he didn’t hear it. You sighed as you closed your door, joining the overgrown puppy on your bed. You decided to hop on your switch, needing some way to kill the time. You weren’t sure how long you spent trying to get Moose off your island before you registered that Brutus was whining by your door.

“What’s wrong big guy?” You asked, putting your switch down. He whined some more, shifting uncomfortably in front of the door. “Oh no, you have to potty, don’t you?” You could have sworn that dog nodded at you. Really?! They didn’t let him out first?! You wondered what to do. You knew disobeying Ryomen wasn’t acceptable, but you couldn’t just let your baby suffer! Another whimper from Brutus made the decision for you. Ryomen would understand.

You opened your door and walked Brutus down the stairs, hoping you could avoid wherever the meeting was happening. You should have known that was delusional, because the moment you walked into the kitchen, you found them all holding their meeting around the bar. Ryomen pinched the bridge of his nose the moment he saw you. Ah fuck.

“Well hello there Gorgeous, who are you?” A man you had never seen before asked. He made your stomach turn. He had his long blue hair parted into three pony tails, and long surgical scars marred his face. That wasn’t what made him so revolting though. It was his smile. It didn’t feel right. Like a monster recreating it’s prey’s mannerisms, a wolf in poorly fitted sheep’s clothing. You wished you stayed in your room.

“It doesn’t matter who she is, you’re not here to talk to her.” Ryomen said, allowing no room for conversation. You followed his lead, going and opening the back door for Brutus without acknowledging the mimic in your home.

“Oh, don’t be rude Sukuna. Is she your wife?” It asked.

“Doesn’t matter, we’re not here to talk about my personal life.”

“Oh, don’t be like that.” He turned to you, and you wished Brutus would hurry up. “I’m Mahito sweetie. And you are?”

“I think the Boss made it clear, we should get back on topic.” Nanami said, adjusting to put his hand in his suit jacket. The Mahito creature got the hint, raising his hands in his defense.

“Okay, okay, okay. Pardon me for trying to be polite at a business meeting, I won’t do it again.”

“Good.” Ryomen said, lighting a smoke and watching closely as Brutus ran in and took his place by your side. He saw the way Brutus held back a growl. That wasn’t a good sign. “You said Zenin wanted fifty percent? That’s not going to work for us.”

“Oh? And why’s that?”

“Selling is signif-” That was all you heard as you rushed back up stairs. Once in your room, you tried to regulate your heartbeat, to clam your jittering bones. You felt like you had just encountered some old primal evil. Something so off your ancestors were warning you to be weary of it from beyond the grave. You sat next to Brutus on your bed, hiding your face in his fur to try and calm down.

It worked for a while, until you heard him growl. You looked up to see the monster in your room. You yelped softly, instinctively backing away. You wished you hadn’t forgotten to close your door.

“Oh, I’m sorry I didn’t mean to scare you.” He said, showing that “smile” again. “I just thought it was a shame we didn’t get to properly meet back there.” Your blood felt slimy in your veins as you realized you were going to have to play nice with this guy. His business was important to Ryomen, or else he wouldn’t be in the house.

“Oh, yea I guess.” You muttered softly, petting Brutus to try and calm him.

“What’s your name sweetheart?” He asked, stepping even further into your room and closing the door behind him. Your joints suddenly felt weak with static, every fiber of your animal brain telling you you were dealing with a predator.

“Y/n.” You responded, refusing to make eye contact with his mis-matched eyes.

“That’s a pretty name Y/n. You Ryomen’s girl, or his pet?” You didn’t like anything coming out of his mouth.

“I’m um, his roommate.” You guess, and instantly realized you guessed wrong. “Shouldn’t you be downstairs with the others?”

“Oh, they’ll be fine without me for a few minutes.” He said, and you realized he was getting closer. You stood up, only to realize he was in between you and the door.

“Hey, uh, I really think you should go back down, they’re probably looking for-”

“I don’t care.” He scoffed, closing the distance and grabbing you. He tried to force you on the bed, but I guess that dumb ass missed the giant fuck you dog that was in that room for the sole purpose of protecting you. He didn’t get past putting his hands on your shoulders before Brutus’s teeth were in his leg, ripping muscle from bone. The scream that left Mahito was visceral, the kind that haunts people at night.

“RYOMEN!!” You yelled, pressing yourself against the wall while Brutus did his thing, jerking his head, pulling the man away from you as another horrific scream left him.

“I fucking knew it!” Ryomen snapped, ripping your attention away from the bloody scene in front of you and to the four men spilling into your room, Ryomen leading the pack.

“CALL OFF YOUR DOG!” The rag doll begged.

“Brutus, down!” Ryomen ordered. Without hesitation the Rott had let go, and had placed himself between you and your attacker in case he needed to act again.

“Oh thank-” Mahito didn’t get to finish that sentence.

“He’s mine.” Ryomen growled, grabbing him by his scalp. “You think you can come into my house and attack my girl and get away with it?!” He snapped, taking the lit cigarette from his mouth and putting it out in Mahitos’ right eye. You’re not sure what was going to stick with you more, the smell- or the sound that came out of the monster. Ryomen threw the screaming, bloodied man, to the floor behind him. “Take him to the basement, I’ll be there soon.” He said. Without hesitation all three men acted, grabbing the begging Mahito and dragging him down the stairs.

Ryomen walked over to you, gently taking your head in his hands. “Did he hurt you?”

“No, Brutus protected me.” You hated the quiver in your voice as you said that. Ryomen looked down at the dopey dog, smiling with blood on his muzzle. He gave a small affectionate smile as he pet the dog.

“Good boy.” He praised before turning back to you. “I’m going to go take care of the trash in the basement, then I’ll be back, okay?”

“I’m so sor-”

“No, you didn’t do anything wrong. He did. I’ll be back.” He assured you, gently patting your cheek before leaving the room you weren’t sure you felt safe in anymore. You weren’t sure how long he was gone for. At least long enough for you to clean up Brutus, and to try and clean up all the gore. At least your carpet was dark gray. You wondered how many other stains it hid, and of what variety.

You weren’t expecting how relieved you were when you finally heard a knock, opening the door to reveal a freshly showered Ryomen. You wondered what he looked like before washing the blood away, but the only image your mind conjured was him bleeding out on the couch. So you stopped wondering.

“Pack a bag, you’re leaving.” He explained. His tone was unreadable, and all it did was piss you off.

“What? What do you mean I’m leaving?!” You demanded.

“I mean wh-”

“No Ryomen, I want an actual fucking explanation.” You saw his jaw clench, as he pinched the bridge of his nose.

“You gotta get better about that interrupting bullshit.” He growled. “Zenin is definitely going to send someone to look for his missing boy. And when he does, he’s not going to find you here. Gojo already reserved you a hotel suite for a week, it’s temporary.” He explained as he walked away. “I’ll be waiting for you in the living room.”

You groaned as you threw together a bag. You understood his reasoning, but you were getting real sick of feeling like nothing in your life was under your control. Like you were at the mercy of a crazed mob boss. Probably because you were. You were starting to wonder if all of this was really worth not having to pay rent.

Ultimately you decided it was. Really, it was no different from existing under capitalism, and at least in this situation you could sometimes reason with your captor. You came downstairs with your bag, took at least ten minuets to say goodbye to Brutus- promising him you’d be back and that he was the best boy- and finally loaded yourself into Ryomen’s too-expensive-for-you-to-be-in car. The drive was silent, tense almost. He chain smoked out of the window, not even bothering to look at you.

“Um, are you mad at me?” You finally had to ask.

“No.” Well that didn’t sound like he wasn’t mad at you.

“You sound mad.” You pointed out.

“Good observation.” He scoffed, throwing his dead cigarette butt out the window, and immediately going to light another.

“That’s probably not good for your lungs ya know.” His glare could have frozen the sun. “I’m just sayin’!”

“I promise you, I’d be lucky if lung cancer is what kills me.” He “assured” you.

“You promise you’re not mad at me?”

“Y/n.” He growled, “I said I’m not mad at you, didn’t I? Why can’t you just believe me?”

“Cause you sound like, really really ma-”

“That’s because I’m mad at myself, not you!” He snapped, before catching himself with a growl, pinching the bridge of his nose for a second. He took a long drag off his smoke and ashed it out the window, holding the smoke in his lungs until the burn threatened to consume him. “Just. Drop it.” He finally said as the two of you pulled into a hotel parking lot. It was honestly nicer than you were expecting! “We’re here.” He informed you, grabbing your bag as the two of you left the car.

It was clear Sukuna was known here, considering he didn’t technically check in. He was just given a key as he passed the front desk, and told a room number. You hoped it wasn’t that easy for everyone. He ushered you to the elevator before giving you the spare key he was given. “Room 237.” He said.

“Wait, like The Shining?!” you gasped, looking at him with wide eyes.

“I-I guess?” He very clearly wasn’t expecting that reaction to informing you of your room number. “Sorry, I’m thrown, are you excited or?-”

“I just think it’s neat.” You beamed.

“...Okay.” Sukuna sighed, deciding he had more important things to worry about at the moment than if you liked your room number or not. Once inside the room, he immediately started checking for bugs, both the organic and inorganic kind. An old habit that he saw no need to kill. While he did that, you looked around the suite, familiarizing yourself with the layout.

“Hey, Ryomen? I only see one bed?” You questioned, not finding another place for him to sleep.

“Yeah? Is that a problem?” He asked, joining you in the bedroom.

“Well where are you going to sleep?” You inquired. He was confused again.

“In my bed? At my house?” Oh hell no he wasn’t!

“What?! No way, you can’t leave me!” You protested, getting real sick of his shit.

“I assure you, I can do whatever I want,” He scoffed, “Someone needs to watch the house.”

“Fuck that, have Nanami do it! What if they find me here?!” You didn’t have Brutus, and you weren’t confident in your ability to hold your own in a fight with experienced criminals.

“No one is going to come for you here Y/n-” He tried to reason, but you were having none of it.

“Are you sure?!” You demanded, “Can you promise me that?! Can you look me in the eye and swear to me that we weren’t followed? That no one’s going to show up here looking for you and hurt me instead? That no one wants revenge for that ragdolls life?! Can you be sure?!” He was quiet. Truth be told, he couldn’t. And he had already fucked up and let you get hurt once, he wasn’t going to do it again. He let out a sound somewhere between a groan and a sigh.

“Fine, fine. I’ll call Nanami and have him-”

“I don’t want Nanami here, I want you.” You insisted. Your words hung heavy in the air, both of you trying to hear what was left unsaid in the silence. The tension was growing, begging for someone to say something, anything. Finally, Ryomen sighed again,

“Okay, I’ll stay. Let me go call Nanami so he knows to watch the house.” He said, pulling his phone out of his pocket and stepping out to call his lieutenant. He was gone for longer than you expected. You worried about what was being said, though you didn't know why you were so worried. You just felt anxious. Finally, he came back.

“Alright, everything is settled.” He let you know, “I’m going to sleep on the couch, just…get some sleep okay?” He said, gently cupping your cheek, “I’m not going anywhere, I promise.” He assured you. You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding and nodded.

“Okay, thank you.” You sighed, looking up at him. He was closer than you realized. He hadn’t let go of your cheek yet either. Your eyes connected, and for a split second, the whole world seemed to stop. He was close enough you could smell the coffee and cigarette scent that seemed to permanently cling to him. If you focused hard enough, you could feel the heat coming off of him. “Kiss me.” You mentally begged him, “Kiss me, just kiss me!”

“Sleep well Y/n.” He said, patting your face as he left the room. You almost screamed at him to get back here and finish what he started, but realized it probably wouldn’t do much. If he wanted to, he would have. He said it himself, he does whatever he wants. You settled for just screaming into the pillow as you flopped into the overly stuffed mattress instead. This shit sucked.

Everything felt hot, too hot. You felt like you were caught in an inferno, feeling his hips buck into yours. You felt his warm mouth trail kisses down your neck. You twisted your hands, feeling your wrists flex under his large hand. “You’re so good for me pretty girl.” He praised in your ear.

“Ryomen-” You gasped, saying his name like a prayer.

“Say it again Y/n.”

“Ryomen..”

“Again..”

“Ro-”

“Y/n!” You jumped out of your sleep, yelping softly as Sukuna’s voice jolted you out of the dream realm. You looked around, trying to reorient yourself. You still felt flustered from your dream, and now flustered from embarrassment.

“Ryomen?” You asked, looking at the man sitting on the side of your bed, him looking at you with concerned eyes in return. “What are you doing in here?”

“You called for me.” He informed you, and you wanted to melt away from the embarrassment. “I thought you we’re having a nightmare, so I woke you up,” He explained, “Are you okay?”

“A nightmare…yeah…” You took the excuse and ran, “Yeah, yeah I’m okay. I don’t even remember what happened in it honestly…” You lied. He sighed and rubbed his face, getting up to leave. “Wait!” You called, grabbing his hand before he could get too far. There goes your stupid body, moving faster than your brain again. “I-...I don’t want to be alone.” You explained. It was technically the truth.

He looked down at you, quiet for a second, then grumbled. “Whatever. Scoot over.” He muttered. You smiled, happy to make room for him. He slipped himself under the covers, getting comfortable surprisingly quickly for someone in a dress shirt and slacks. For a guy that was surrounded with luxury and creature comforts, he really didn’t seem to need any of them. It didn’t seem like he was very accustomed to them either. He laid on his back, and you couldn’t help but notice how comfortable his chest looked.

So you moved next to him, resting your head on his chest. He looked down at you, but didn’t push you away. Quite the opposite actually, he wrapped one of his arms around you, holding you close to his side. It woke up the butterflies in your stomach, sending them into overdrive.

“Thank you.” You whispered to him.

“For what?” He asked.

“Staying with me. Taking care of me.”

“...Di-..did you just thank me for kidnapping you?” He questioned, looking down at you as best he could and raising an eyebrow. You laughed a little at his reaction.

“I guess I did, yeah.” You giggled, trying to push yourself closer to him.

“You’re welcome?” You never failed to confuse and confound him. Maybe that’s why he liked you so much. You kept him on his toes. “You know most people aren’t okay with being kidnapped, right? It’s considered a bad thing.”

“I’m not most people.” You shrugged. “Like, yeah I see how on paper it’s bad but..I don’t know. It kinda came at the perfect time for me. I got to walk out of my shitty job, I didn’t have to deal with getting evicted, let’s not even get started on how honestly lonely I was..I don’t know. I guess it’s bad for most people, but it was a miracle for me. Is there a word for bad miracle?”

“Your stalkhom syndrome is showing.”

“I don’t think it’s that,” You chuckled, shifting to be able to look up at him, “Have you ever considered I just like being around you?”

“Why would you?” He muttered.

“Why wouldn't I?” You replied. There it was again. That warm feeling that seemed to envelop you wherever you were in Ryomen’s arms, coupled with the feeling that comes right before the lighting strikes. You used the dim moonlight fluttering in from your window to connect your eyes with his. You swore up and down his eyes glowed in low light, the unnatural red that should be so off putting only drawing you deeper into him.

“You’re beautiful.” He whispered softly, and you felt your chest tighten. He had never said anything like that to you before. It made you feel almost giddy, your heart doing the screaming and squealing your throat wouldn’t currently allow. Before you could respond, his lips were finally on yours and it felt like fireworks were going off in every fiber of your being. You felt your blood rushing in your veins as you moved to tangle your fingers in his hair, months of tension finally snapping in a million electric sparks.

He bit your lip, using your soft gasp to deepen the kiss. He pulled you closer to him, if that was even possible, growling softly as you tugged at his hair. It was like the two of you truly couldn’t get enough of each other, trying to make up for months worth of lost time and build up with one impossibly impassioned kiss. He rolled the two of you over so you were under him, and moved to kiss your neck. You moaned softly as he did, feeling the bruises he was biting already starting to form. You loved the idea of it, of obvious evidence you really were his girl.

You felt your breathing get heavy as he ran his hands up your waist and under your shirt, feeling the soft skin waiting for him there. He pulled away long enough to pull your shirt over your head, leaving you in just your sleep shorts.

“Fuck.” He whispered when he finally saw you without your top on. He took the time to truly marvel you, the way you imagined a painter would look at his magnum opus. It filled you with a confidence unlike anything else, for someone so beautiful to look at you the way Adonis had looked at Aphrodite.

“You look so much better than I imagined.” he praised, finally finding his voice again.

“So you’ve imagined me topless?” You teased.

“I’ve imagined more than just you topless.” He smirked, hands roaming lower on your body. You felt your breath hitch in your chest as he hooked his thumbs under your shorts. You weren’t positive this wasn’t another dream, but either way, you planned to enjoy this. Though, he was wearing far too much clothes for that. Before he could take your bottoms off, you were sitting up, connecting your lips to his again as your fingers fumbled with the buttons on his shirt. You always thought he looked stunning in them, but right now you despised the small buttons. He chuckled a bit, pulling away from you.

“Eager, huh?” he teased, “Here, I got it.” You felt almost embarrassed as he expertly got all the buttons undone and the shirt off in the time it took you to unhook three of them. But- in your defense- he took those shirts off everyday and this was your first time taking anything off him. You bit your lip as you took in his topless form. It looked so much better not covered in blood, you could better see the tattooed skin that laid there.

And the scars. There were a few etched into his skin, but you were most concerned with three. Your fingers went to touch one of the circular scars, feeling the puckered healed skin on his shoulder. You felt a pang of regret. If you had done better that night, would he have scarred? You didn’t have time to think before you felt his hand on yours, softly pressing your fingers into the healed wound.

“Like it?” He chuckled, “It’s one of my favorites.”

“Why?” You asked, trying not to think about him covered in blood again.

“It makes me think of you.” He said, pulling you into another heated kiss. You felt your body react to him, pressing yourself closer to him and wrapping your arms around his neck. You felt dizzy with want, your entire being buzzing with anticipation as he pressed you back into the mattress, kissing down your jaw, your neck, your torso, until he was where you wanted him the most. You bit your lip in anticipation, feeling him hook his thumbs into your bottoms, waiting for him.

“What do you want Doll?” He asked from in between your legs.

“You.” You whimpered softly.

“I’m right here,” He reminded you, “What do you want from me?” You whined as you bucked your hips at him. He grabbed them and pressed you into the mattress, making you groan louder.

“I don’t know!” You confessed.

“Babygirl, we haven’t even done anything, you can’t be fucked stupid just yet.” he tsked.

“I just want you to touch me...” You begged.

“I am touching you.”

“Ryo!” You whined, wriggling under him.

“Ryo?” He snorted, “That’s cute.” In all the times you had imagined yourself fucking Ryomen Sukuna, you had never imagined he’d be this fucking infuriating. You gave a stranged whine to let him know just how upset you were. “Sorry Doll, I don’t speak whine. You’re gonna have to use your big girl words.”

“Ryomen, please!” You begged, “I- I want..fuck, I want your mouth.” You finally decided, “I want to know what your mouth feels like.” Ryomen’s grin was dark as he finally pulled down your shorts and underwear in one fluid motion.

“Good girl.” he praised, and before you could properly react, he was running his tongue from your entrance to your clit, wrapping his lips around your bundle of nerves and giving it a sharp suck. Excitement exploded in your chest as your hands rushed to his hair, trying to find anything to ground yourself. He growled as you pulled him closer to you.

Every pass of his tongue sent another wave of euphoria coursing through your core, leaving you soft under him. You brain officially checked out for the night, rolling your hips against his face to chase your high. You moaned his name shamelessly, losing your ability to regulate your volume in the pleasure he was giving you. This volume regulation problem worsened as he pushed two fingers into your weeping cunt, curling up and successfully gracing the sweet spot inside you. Some part of your brain was sure the next room over knew Ryomen’s name now.

And it was driving him crazy. Ryomen couldn’t take his eyes off of you. The way your eyes screwed shut, the way the sweat cascaded down your body, the way his name sounded so fucking pretty falling off your lips. He spent a lot of time fucking his hand to the thought of fucking you with his mouth, among other things, and his imagination couldn’t come close to creating the magic of the real thing. He had to use his free hand to palm himself through his slacks, desperate for any sort of relief. The only thing he wanted more than to fuck you in that moment was to taste you as you came on his face. He needed it more than he needed to breathe.

“R-ryo, I- close..” You whined, your mind struggling to conjugate a proper sentence. That’s what he liked to hear. Your head was full of dopamine and ecstasy, your entire body buzzed with anticipation and need. You felt like you were barreling to the edge of the earth with no hope of stopping. You heard him moan as you pulled his hair again, pulling him closer as you rode his face straight to your climax, feeling the ecstasy explode in your veins. You felt like you were floating in a sea of pleasure, except the sea was in the middle of a tropical storm and every cutting wave that hit you left you weaker than the last. Your vision went white hot, and you were struggling to keep your breath.

“Fuck, fuck, Ryo! Ryomen! So good Ryo..” You chanted his name like a witch trying to evoke a long dead deity. And he couldn’t get enough of it, eating you out throughout your high as he licked up everything you had to give him and more. He didn’t let up until your legs were trembling around his head. He kissed bruises in your shaking thighs as he pulled away, wiping his mouth and looking at you with dark eyes. Something primal held behind pupils blown wide with lust. He wiped his mouth with a wicked grin.

“You taste so good Doll,” He praised, slipping his fingers out of your cunt and into your mouth. You started sucking without thinking, grabbing his hand to keep him there as you licked his fingers clean. “Glad you agree.” He chuckled darkly, feeling his dick twitch under his clothes. His entire body felt like it was on fire, and the only thing his mind could focus on was imagining how pretty you’d look trying to take his dick.

“How ya feeling Dollface?” He asked, leaning back as he undid the button on his pants.

“So good..” You muttered, your mind slowly finding it’s way back to your body in the sea of endorphins it was swimming in.

“Yeah?” He chuckled, pulling you under him as he lined himself up with your weeping cunt, “Wanna feel even better?” He asked. Well he was confident, wasn’t he? You nodded, looking up to see what he was working with. You probably should have been more intimidated than you were, but at that moment all you wanted was to make him feel as good as he had made you feel.

“Yea, I want do.” You confirmed, and he smiled smugly.

“Good girl.” He praised as he slowly sunk into you. You felt like you were being ripped apart in the most beautiful way. Your cunt weeping as it made accommodations for him. Your hands flew to his back, digging into him with enough time to feel him shudder on top of you from just how good you felt. You’d count that as a win.

“Fuck, it’s like you were made for me pretty girl,” He moaned, dragging himself out just to push back in, gracing your g-spot as he did. You moaned under him as he did, feeling yourself melt into a puddle of need and pleasure. “So fucking good.” He purred.

He tried to take it easy, to keep in mind that you had just came hard and were probably sensitive. He couldn’t help himself though. The way you pulled him in deeper and deeper with every thrust threw any semblance of sense out of his mind. All he could think about was how good you felt under him, and how fucking pretty every sound that came out of you was. He wanted to hear them all.

You were happy to make them all for him too, moaning pathetically under him with every push of his cock, every brush against your g-spot. You could feel your blood catch fire in your veins as he fucked you, felt yourself getting lost in the pleasure he was giving you. You felt electrified, your nervous system somehow fried and on high alert all at the same time. All you could think of was Ryomen, Ryomen, Ryomen as you felt a string of tensions knotting itself over and over in your stomach.

He pulled you impossibly closer to him, folding you into a mating press as he chased both of your highs. You instantly knew you weren’t going to last long in this new position, and all but screamed his name as you pulled at his hair.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, Ryomen!” You yelled as the string inside of you finally snapped, all of the euphoria it was holding back hitting you like a god damn train. You felt your body shake, tendrils of pleasure lashing out from your core to your fingers and toes. It was like a whole body reset, your brain turning into a puddle of electrified endorphins.

He thought he was going to last longer than he ultimately did. But the way your cunt clenched around him coupled with the way your face screwed shut and how needy you sounded as you said his name- he was coming undone inside within a few more strokes, fucking the two of you through both of your climaxes before stilling, just barely managing not to collapse on top of you.

There was a quiet that settled over the two of you in your after glow as you both caught your breath. You whined as he pulled out, going from feeling so full to so empty and hating it. He just chuckled softly, falling next to you and pulling you into his side.

“So,” You started softly, “Am I still the property of The Syndicate orr?” You asked. He chuckled softly, remembering what he said to you on the night you met.

“No, not the Syndicate. You’re mine.” He confirmed for you.

“Isn’t that like…kinda the same thing?” You asked. He rolled his eyes. Of course you couldn't let him have his cute moment.

“Good night Y/n, we’ll talk in the morning.” He mumbled, deciding the best move would be to try and get some sleep. The two of you were going to have a lot to talk about in the morning.

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #ryomen sukuna #jjk mafia au #jujutsu kaisen mafia au #mob boss sukuna #mob boss sukuna x reader #sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna x reader #sukuna x reader smut #ryomen sukuna x reader smut #jjk smut #sukuna ryomen #sukuna ryomen x reader smut #mafia au

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localkiss · 1 month

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Zombie Leon would eat pussy so sloppily. I said it.

He would probably nibble on the clit like candy 😭 and lightly bite into your thighs. Letting out soft whines and moans as he tastes your blood and skin.

"Promise, I won't bite hard baby. Please let me, it's so hard to hold back, please," he snarls mid sentence. His eyes stare up at you pitifully as he pants into your thighs. Drool dripping down from the openings of his mouth.

I think he's a bit of a freak :33 licking and slobbering all over you. Like you're not a dog, zombified Leon!!

tw: gore / zombie shtuff 4 the pic ! Plus mentions of bodily fluids!

^ im gonna start posting my art on my other Tumblr: @localsketch if u want to follow! I'll try to make art of my fics every now n then. Also idk how 2 color guys. I suck cojones at it..

Leon's so afraid of waking up and finding himself feasting on your supple body. So he stays up when you sleep and has you restrain him to the bed in the day, so he can rest peacefully.

"I'm sorry, you just look so delicious baby. Please don't hate me, please," he sobs as he takes a small bite out of your thigh. Almost throwing up as his human side tries to force it out, knowing it's human flesh. But the zombified part of his brain wants and needs more. He needs you.

Leon then makes it up to you by eating you out like it's his last meal. It very well could be though, if you think about it. Pussy as his last meal. Wow. What a way to go, doing his favorite thing to his favorite person.

Thrusting his tongue into your quivering hole and coming back up to suckle on your clit. Slobbering all over your folds. Panting and groaning as he dives deeper and deeper, making sure every drop of your cum doesn't go to waste.

His dick still works, surprisingly. Leon doesn't even stop fucking you, even if he came already. It feels too good to even stop. Like it's a remedy for the pain he feels from the virus slowly turning his flesh into mush.

Maybe if you turn into a zombie like him, you guys can chew each other apart. Have matching shaped marks into your thighs. <3

#leon kennedy #resident evil smut #leon s kennedy #re2 #re2 leon #re leon #resident evil x reader #leon scott kennedy #leon smut #leon kennedy x you #Zombie!leon #localkiss #my art #digital drawing #digital art #leon fanart #drabbles

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nexysworld · 8 months

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Chapter Summary: You finally make a decision on your relationship. Unfortunately for you it will lead to untold horrors you couldn't have imagined. Pairing: Yandere!Leon x Fem!Reader Tags: NSFW, Dead Dove, Dubcon, Kidnapping, Stalking, Smut, Unprotected Sex, Pet Names, violence, gore, MDNI, masturbation, murder, slow burn.

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You continued staring up at the ceiling recovering from the self-induced orgasm. Aftershocks made your legs twitch and tense, you wiggled them about to try and ease the sensation. Finally having the energy to roll over, your view changed from the ceiling to the wall, lined with your stuffed animals.

Childish maybe, but you always had a fond spot for them, never having been able to throw them away. Some were old, made of patchwork with faded colors – a reminder of your childhood. Others were newer, like the overstuffed pumpkin that Derek had won you for Halloween one year, or the small teddy bear Leon had given you, a present from one of his work trips.

Your eyes lingered on the squishy pumpkin, the memory of Derek giving it to you rushed to the forefront of your memory. It had been one of your favorite dates together, spontaneously deciding to stop by the boardwalk after dinner one evening. The scent of popcorn and cotton candy overpowered the smell of the ocean as you walked along the clackity wooden path. Halloween décor was tacked on to everything in sight, even the prizes were ghosts, pumpkins, and black cats.

“You look good like that.” He said, flashing a smile. You tugged on the brim of the cheap witch’s hat, trying to ensure the paper thin material wasn’t going to fly off in the wind. “You calling me a witch?” You gasped in mock offense. “‘Course not baby, I would never.“ He’d doubled over in laughter, spilling the soda on his favorite

band t-shirt. “Oh shit.” He shook the black fabric with one hand trying to get some of the excess liquid off. Slapping his arm playfully, you kissed his cheek. “That’s what you get for being a jerk.” “But I’m your jerk, right?” He raised a brow leaning down to return your affection for a kiss on the cheek. “Yeah, you’re my jerk.”

As the two of you made your way down more of the game booths something caught your eye – a huge fat pumpkin with a little spider attached to it. The thing was easily the size of your entire body, and you really wanted it. Coming to a dead stop, you tugged on Derek’s sleeve before pointing at it. “Make it up to me, win me that!” He froze for a second, a nervous laugh exiting his mouth. “I mean I can definitely try…”

The game runner ate it up, goading Derek to play. He explained it was simple, just toss it at an angle, get the ball into the bucket and boom – prize!

The first ball bounced off the plastic basket almost hitting a child in the face. The second ball followed the course of the first one. The third one impressively flew even farther, and Derek had to run to go get it. “Again.” He said determined, though the next round didn’t fare much better. By the fourth round, you weren’t able to contain your laughter anymore, which only served to egg him on. “Come on baby, I was only kidding. I don’t need it.” “I’m going to win it, just you watch.” “If you say so.” You leaned up to kiss him on the cheek. “I still believe in you, the millionth time’s the charm.”

You weren’t sure how many losses he’d suffered but you knew he’d coughed up nearly $200 and had nothing to show for it. It made your heart soar a little knowing he was willing and determined to get this for you.

Lo and behold the last time was the charm, he’d still missed the first two shots, but the third one landed in the basket and stayed there. The smallest of the three bells rang out indicating a win and the game runner clapped behind the counter. “Congratulations!” He shouted with an exaggerated tone before taking his long hooked stick out to yank a prize down.

It wasn’t the gigantic pumpkin, but it was just perfect in its own right. Medium sized and plump, you squished it to your chest in a hug before capturing Derek’s lips with your own. “It's perfect.”

“Mm, no you’re perfect.” He replied smoothly, wrapping an arm around you from behind as the pair of you made your way further down towards the rides. It had been getting later into the evening, things were dying down a bit. The Ferris wheel was still running and you decided to end the night on the ride together.

The city was beautiful, sparkling likes juxtaposed against the dark buildings and streets, stars twinkling above. You could see your apartment building, and the coffee shop Derek worked at down the way. Unconsciously you snuggled closer to him in your seat, leaning your head against his shoulder. The words had slipped out of his mouth so casually you’d almost missed it, so relaxed into the moment. “What was that?” You asked softly. “I said I love you.” He replied, petting your hair. It caused your heartbeat to speed up as you registered what he’d said. The air hung heavy with the confession.

“I love you too.”

A hollow and guilty feeling erupted in your chest and made its way down to your stomach at the memory. Post nut clarity was a wild thing – and now that your head was clear everything was starting to make sense.

Derek had been right, about everything. What did it say about you that hours ago you’d fought with him about your attachment to Leon, and now here you were getting yourself off to the very guy he was worried about. ‘I’m such an asshole.’

You squeezed the pumpkin close to yourself, taking in the still faded but lingering scent of Derek’s cologne. The urge to cry caused you to curl in on yourself for a moment, but you managed to suppress the tears behind a few sniffles. A soft breath escaped you, and you placed the pumpkin back on the shelf.

Before you rolled back over you glanced next to the pumpkin at the small teddy bear Leon had gifted you. It was black, about the size of your hand. He said he’d brought it back from Spain on his last work trip – something you had been meaning to ask him about more in depth but never got the chance. It was cute, and it meant a lot to you at the time, but now it made your heart ache. ‘Should I get rid of it maybe? It’s not like Leon would know.’

You reached over to grab the small stuffed animal, looking it over, running your fingers against the soft fur. Something caught your eye, a red light in the left eye. It was a faded light, and you could only see it at certain angles. ‘What the –?’ You inspected it more closely, but nothing else was obviously amiss.

‘Maybe the eyes were supposed to light up or something.’ You shrugged, putting the tiny bear back where it belonged, deciding you didn’t have the heart to toss it, hoping Derek just wouldn’t notice its existence.

Guilty and resolved to making things right, you mulled over what you’d say to Leon, to Derek. You didn’t want to abandon your friendship, but if that’s what it would take, you weren’t going to throw your relationship away – and maybe it would be better for your friendship if you weren’t so close.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Nervousness caused you to be jittery, bouncing on the balls of your feet as you stood outside his door. ‘You got this. Leon’s a good guy, he’ll understand. He’ll understand.’ You let out a deep sigh, hyping yourself up before knocking on his door.

The second your eyes met the endless blue of his, regret washed over you from head to toe. The way he leaned against the doorframe, you’d caught him after a workout again, shirtless a sheen of sweat coating his muscles. It was the first time you’d seen him completely shirtless and it was making your brain go haywire a bit.

Suddenly a palm was in your face, waving. “Hello, Earth to Ms. 306, you there?”

You were snapped back to the moment. “Sorry, I was spacing out for a moment.” “You don’t say.” He laughed, standing up straight. “Well you’re the one who knocked on my door. What’s up?” “About that. The other night with Derek I uh….” How exactly were you going to explain this? “I think it’s best if maybe you and I saw less of each other.”

Hurt washed over his features. “What? Did I do something wrong?” “No, it’s nothing like that.” “I’m just confused, the guy left you at the theater and –” “I know and that was shitty of him. He just seems to think you and I are too close, and I mean I get it. I can’t say I would be comfortable if he spent as much time with another girl as I do with you.” Averting your eyes, you stared down at your feet. “I’m sorry Leon. It’s just, I do love him and I want to try and work on things ya know? Like you’re a super awesome friend and if it were up to me I’d keep things the way they are but it makes him uncomfortable…so….”

“Of course. I understand completely.”

You swore there was a slightly strained sound to his voice, you didn’t push it though, happy that he was accepting of things. “Thank you Lee.” Like a coward, you scurried off the moment the conversation concluded.

Luckily Derek had been willing to talk things out and once you had mentioned breaking things off with Leon – if you could even call it that – his mood changed entirely. It melted your heart to see the way his face lit up, to feel his arms around you. It affirmed in the moment you had made the right decision.

Things fell back into place like nothing had been wrong – except this time around everything was so much more smooth, a love rekindled. You found yourself talking for hours every night before bed time, laughing at dumb stories, falling asleep before the call ended.

Date nights were becoming a regular occurrence again too, walks in the park, midnight movies.

All in all things were great, but there was something you just couldn’t shake from the back of your mind. Every moment with Derek, every touch, kiss, conversation – it managed to abate your guilt for him, but all you could do was linger on the fact that something was just missing.

Obviously you knew the culprit – Leon.

Somehow, despite everything, you couldn’t shake him from your mind. You missed him terribly and he managed to invade your thoughts at the worst possible moments. Kissing Derek, you’d close your eyes and wonder what it would feel like if Leon had been on the other end.

Walking through the hallway of the battered building felt lonely without the conversations you would have and the laughter that entailed. Helping Mrs. Wilson hurt the most, having to tread to the pharmacy by foot made you miss Leon’s Jeep and the moments spent together. The few times you actually did bump into Leon or catch a glimpse of him, it hurt.

“This is ridiculous.” You said to yourself, pulling your knees to your chest, sitting on your bed. Derek had just dropped you back home after a date, and again the only person on your mind wasn’t the one it should be. “He’s just my neighbor, a friend.”

Letting out a sigh, you thought about the evening with Derek. He’d actually suggested moving in together now that things were getting better between the two of you. Of course you were hesitant at first, this apartment had a lot of sentimental value and leaving it behind meant taking on a new chapter of your life – it was scary. Thinking back on everything though, you were beginning to think it was a good idea.

Everything here was reminding you of someone you can’t – shouldn’t have. Leon had been too meshed within your daily routine, and you figured a change of scenery could help with that. You could still check in with Mrs. Wilson, but not have to be reminded of him every single day.

Resolved to your decision, you texted Derek to let him know. Not knowing why, you had the urge to tell Leon. You didn’t technically have to, and you knew that it wasn’t like you owed him an explanation – it just felt like the right thing to do.

Still too much of a coward to face him or call, you opted to text him instead.

‘Long time no talk. Hope ur well. :) ’

Locking the screen, you set the phone down on the nightstand, surprised when less than a minute later it buzzed with a reply.

‘Just dandy! :) U doin ok?’

‘Yeah!’

‘U sure? not like u to txt out of nowhere.’

‘just had some news i dunno.’

‘news? hope its good lol’

‘i think so… Derek asked me to move in with him.’

The three bubbles to indicate he was typing popped up for a mysteriously long amount of time, making you anxious. Finally they stopped, and you waited – nothing. Thirty minutes passed by before you finally received a response.

‘thats awesome! 👍’

Not sure how to reply, you simply didn’t. The expectation of relief after breaking the news didn’t come, but you pushed it aside. ‘Things are changing. You’ll be just fine once you’re out of here.’

~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next time you saw Derek was about three days later – the two of you had a camping trip date planned for the weekend. With your duffel bag packed, you took the opportunity to walk to his apartment, wanting to surprise him that morning.

The weather was perfectly temperate and it felt nice to have fresh air and sun on your skin, without freezing to death or sweating bullets. The sounds of the city set you at ease, familiar shops and people passing you by as you made your way.

The only odd thing was Derek hadn’t replied to your text. It was just a simple ‘Good Morning’ but it wasn’t like him to not respond. Thinking he was likely just busy getting ready or slept in late, you shrugged it off. This trip was the start of something new – plans to move upon returning – and you weren’t about to let anything stop you from making it positive. Even any thought of Leon was temporarily pushed to the back of your mind.

His apartment building was a lot nicer, and in a better part of the city. The ivory building came into view and you all but ran from the outside staircase up to the second floor where his home was. Sliding the spare key into the knob, you knew something was wrong immediately – the lights were off and the whole place just felt stale.

“Der?” You called out, flipping the living room light on. “You here?” No response came, you looked out the window to the parking lot and sure enough his car was there – no camping gear on top though.

Making your way further inside the apartment, you looked around for any sign of him. His keys were tossed on the stained coffee table where they always were. His shoes were by the front door. There was no immediate sign of exit or entry.

His bedroom door was closed though, something you knew was unusual – he always left it open even at bed time.

“Der?” You called again, gently cracking the door open. The room was dark, curtains drawn and no artificial light to be found. Your eyes had to adjust for a moment before you saw the lump of human form underneath the bed sheets, comforter having been discarded onto the floor. “Baby?” You gently shook him, turning the nightstand light on to the lowest setting. The sheets were moist and sweat soaked, his brows were knitted together in his unconscious state – like a nightmare. It took a few more forceful movements before he finally stirred, shooting up in the bed. “What the fuck!? Oh…oh my god baby I’m sorry. You scared the shit out of me.” He brought his hand over his heart as he caught his breath.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I wanted to surprise you but when I came in everything seemed off. Are you alright?” “Yeah, I just wasn’t feeling well. Guess I slept in.” “You’re soaking with sweat, are you sure you’re ok to go? We can just stay in if you’re not well.” “No baby, I’m fine. I promise.” He gave you a weak smile before kissing your cheek. “Just let me take a quick shower and pack up.”

“Okay, if you’re sure. I can start carrying the gear down to the car.” He did not look okay at all. His eyes seemed more sunken than usual, skin pale and clammy. Something beyond that just felt off - but he continued to insist everything was fine.

“Maybe just stop by urgent care real quick. I mean if you are sick maybe they could give you something for it that you can take on the trip?” “Baby, we’re halfway to the campsite. All I need is some fresh air and time with my girlfriend. I told you I feel fine.” “Alright…” You had to admit the campsite he picked was beautiful. This flat plane of grassy area set atop a hill, you could see the entire valley below including the river – the mountains and the sky were along the horizon too. It was beyond breathtaking and you could only imagine the view once the sun set and the stars began to twinkle unimpeded by the city lights. The little area was surrounded by a thick layer of trees, giving you plenty of privacy.

Awestruck by it all, the thought of Derek’s condition nearly dissipated entirely from your thoughts – he seemed to be getting better anyway, easily handling stretching out the tarp, and hammering the stakes into the ground for the tent base.

“At least one of us is useful.” You teased, nearly getting tangled in the plastic and wiring of the tent. Attempting to bend one of the thin metal sticks down to loop into another section, it flung back whipping you in the face instead. “Fuck, ouch.” A nice thin slice of blood trickled down the stinging red mark on your face. You covered that side of your face with your sleeve. “Can you grab me the first aid kit?”

There was no response to your request, heavy silence ringing out into the air. “Babe?” Using your good eye you looked over to where he was working on the base, he stood staring at you. “Derek? Hello?” Something about it unsettled you in a way you couldn’t describe, like a 6th sense. “This isn’t funny.” His eyes seemed darker, and his body movement frozen as he gripped the hammer in his hand, tightly. “You’re starting to scare me!”

Snapping out of it, he shook his head before smiling, posture instantly relaxing. “What are you talking about – oh my god are you okay?” He ran over to inspect you and you noted his skin felt weird and cold against your own, not like the usual wet heat you’d experience with a fever. You weren’t sure what to make of it at all, but concern grew within you. “What was that all about?” “What are you talking about?” He replied, dabbing gently at your face with the alcohol pad. A hiss left your lips at the stinging sensation.

“You just stood there staring at me, totally spaced out.” “I don’t remember that at all.” “Derek, are you sure you’re okay? Like really okay?” “Are you going to keep asking me that this entire trip?” “No, I just….” “Look, let’s finish getting set up for the night, I promise you’ll feel better once we’re settled in.” Another quick kiss and he grabbed the part of the tent you’d been fumbling with to finish putting it together. Not wanting to be near him at the moment, you chose to take his advice, stringing up the solar-fairy lights around the trees and moving to get the campfire spot set up.

“All done?” “All done!” He said giving you a high five. “Looks great babe, the lights are really cute. I can't wait to see them tonight.” “Me either.” You replied, kissing him – the cold clammy feeling still there.

There were still a few hours left in the day before sundown, so you opted to explore along the trail for a while. Derek seemed okay initially, his breaks were paced out in a way that made sense. As the day turned to late afternoon though, his breathing seemed to be more labored, breaks became more and more frequent.

You wanted to say something badly, but knowing he’d blow you off you kept it to yourself hoping it was just a cold or something.

By early evening, he was looking rough, red veins in his eyes accentuated by deep purple bags, shivers running through him despite the air having become more humid. His bouts of spacing out became more frequent too – randomly staring off into space nodding as if he was in agreement with some invisible thing.

The worst was when he’d disappeared for 30 minutes on a piss break. You’d found him face first against the tree, urine on his shoes, cock still in hand. Even the sound of your voice didn’t stir him from the spot – nor did shaking his shoulder.

It was another 5 minutes before he snapped out of it this time, smiling at you? “How’s your eye feeling?” Was all he asked as he zipped himself up.

A fear stitched itself together within you and more and more you were working on ways to get out of here – to get him some help because something was not right and it definitely wasn’t a cold. This was beyond your comprehension or ability to assist with.

As night began to shadow the area, the two of you made it back to your campsite. The lights you'd hung glistened against the backdrop of the dark woods giving you enough light to set up the fire. Insisting on it, you tucked Derek beneath a thick blanket on the camping chair and begged him to rest.

You considered calling 911, but the thought of all the lights and sirens worried you that it might spook the clearly ill man or provoke him. What you really needed at the moment was advice because you frankly didn’t know what to do, but you were scared.

“Here, drink this.” You said handing him the thermos of now heated soup. “Just try to rest for a bit.” You kissed his forehead. He was getting worse now, feeling like he had been dipped in an ice bath, you never knew a human could get so cold. You swear his veins were getting darker too, at least the ones around his neck – but it could’ve just been the low lighting. “I have to go to the little girl’s tree, I’ll be back.” You assured him, walking until you hoped you were out of earshot. Your phone was gripped tightly in your hand as you paced trying to figure out the best course of action. ‘Can 911 even make it out here? Do people really call 911 over a sick person?’

“Fuck, I don’t know what to do.” Unlocking your phone, you squinted, eyes adjusting to the overwhelming brightness of the screen in the dark area. “Who would?” You scrolled through your contacts list at least 5 times – only one name ringing in your head. “I mean he works for the government – not that I know what he does exactly … but maybe?”

The phone rang with a crackling sound indicating the poor connection from the wilderness – relief flooded over you as the other end of the line picked up. “Leon, thank god. I know this is wildly inappropriate given everything but I need –” Before you even finished you realized he couldn’t hear you. The staticky noise picking up, his voice echoing in and out sounding robotic. The line disconnected on it’s own and the top corner read ‘no signal.’ “Fuck!” You kicked the trunk of the tree in front of you.

“Babe?” The sound of Derek’s voice brought you back, it sounded so weak and hoarse. “I’ll be right there.” You yelled back. “Babe?” He called again. “Babe I’m scared.”

The words made you shiver, the hair on your neck raised – it sounded like Derek, but not at the same time. You still forced that feeling aside and marched back to camp, legs feeling like sand bags as you made them move against your own will.

“What’s wrong –”

You stopped just behind the tent, he was standing there facing you, the fire illuminating his skin. “Babe, I’m scared.” He repeated again, though his face held no emotion – completely expressionless. Dark black vein made spiderwebs along his skin, running from his arms up onto his face. His irises looked black, red blood vessels in both eyes popped making him look like a demon. The corners of his mouth had blood dried to them.

He coughed into his hand, more blood coming out. “Help me.” He reached a hand out towards you. Instinctively, you stepped back away from him. “Help me.” He repeated again stepping forward directly into the campfire – unphased by the flames that were licking away at his clothing, his skin. For each step he took forward, you took one back, legs shaking as silent tears spilled. A visceral fear like you’d never experience before sent shockwaves throughout your entire body.

He brought two burning hands to his head, the flames catching at his hair while he continued to stumble forward at an uneven pace. “My head. It’s splitting my head.” His voice became warbled as he spoke, like his tongue was suddenly too big for his mouth. “You’re scaring me….” You managed to squeak out, barely above a whisper.

“IT’S SPLITTING MY HEAD!” He shouted this time, head twisting to the side the sound of his neck cracking. His features began to warp, nose pulling to the left, mouth twisting, eyes swirling as the flesh tore and split apart – the sound of wet tearing making you feel ill.

A small worm-like thing poked out of the top of his head, before it darted out, growing and growing in size. A second later his head finally tore an explosion of tentacles waving around in the air, like purple blood worms dancing above the neck of his burning body. His features, the ones you knew so well were twisted amongst the new flesh.

The now sideways mouth opened into a hiss, long tongue slithering out like a snake. Warm urine trickled down your leg against your will, fear paralyzing any movement or rational thought. There was no comprehension of what was in front of you.

Despite the flames melting the flesh of the body, it didn’t seem like it was going to stop anytime soon. A tentacle whipped itself forward, slapping against the tree above you, nearly hitting you. The slimy slapping sound was enough to get your legs moving, despite how wobbly they were.

You took off into the dark of the woods, leaves crunching beneath you. Shadows danced around your vision in the moonlight that only casted down between the canopy of the trees. The yellow light behind you mixed with the gargling and fleshy noises told you the creature was behind you in pursuit. Branches and bushes whipped your skin leaving you with cuts and welts you couldn’t feel through the adrenaline – path lost you just went as long as you could.

You saw the opening to the camp parking lot, the low streetlamps like a guiding star. “Help!” You shouted, waving an arm as you ran. “God help me!” You screamed again hoping someone would hear you. In your haze you hadn’t noticed the overgrown root curled out of the ground, it caught your ankle right before you made it to the cement of the parking lot.

Your face hit the yellow barrier of the closest spot, a crunching pop against your nose, iron infecting your sense of smell. When the stars stopped buzzing around your head, you looked down to see your ankle still caught under the root, twisted and purple – bone sticking out through the side.

The hissing sound told you the creature wasn’t far behind, the tips of the tentacles appearing just within your now hazed vision. Coughing on the blood that spilled into the back of your throat via your likely now broken nose, you tried to crawl backwards, but couldn’t the pain in your ankle too great. The creature was right above you now, drool and slime dripping down onto your face as they wriggled around. Closing your eyes to brace a loud explosion sound rung out, all parts of your face and exposed skin suddenly covered in sticky and warm liquid. Cracking an eye open, you saw the body of the creature as it hit the ground.

Looking down at yourself, you were wearing blood and teeth and other viscera that had splattered against you. Your hand shakily reached into your tank top feeling at the squishy thing that landed in your bra.

Bile worked its way out of you upon discovering the eyeball in your hand, tossing it before losing the rest of your stomach contents out onto the open ground. In too much shock and shaking, your vision went black as you slipped into unconsciousness.

~~~~~~~~~

Head reeling you refused to open your eyes, purposefully scrunching them shut against the invading sunlight. You felt like you’d been hit by a bus, every part of you was either sore or stung. As your brain slowly started coming to, the first thing you realized was the smell – out of place but familiar. That spicy and intense cologne – Leon?

‘But why would Leon be in your tent?’ The image of the blonde appeared in your mind making you giggle a moment. Then it occurred to you, you were fully conscious. Confused you opened one eye and then the other, wincing as they adjusted to the light.

It wasn’t your tent. It wasn’t even your apartment. You sat up as quickly as your mangled body would allow, heart rate picking up again. “Hey there, you’re finally awake.” Snapping to the door you saw him there, a look of concern on his face. “Leon?” “In the flesh.” He said softly making his way over to you, sitting on the side of the bed. “Where am I?” “In my apartment. How are you feeling?” “What happened?” “I was hoping you could tell me that. You called me frantic, when I finally found you, you were hurt and completely out of it. Had to pull some connections to make sure the hospital would even let me take you home.” “What? Where’s Derek?” “Who are you talking about sweetheart?” “Derek? My boyfriend, he and I were camping and he had a cold and then he turned into a monster and…and…” “Shhhh.” He soothed, rubbing your back. “Hey, its okay, you’re safe now there’s no monsters. You’re okay, I’m here.” He adjusted himself so he could pull you closer into him encompassing you with his warmth and frame.

The weight of his arms around you and the sound of his voice soothed you frantic mumbling as you sobbed into his chest, wetting the cotton fabric with snot and tears. He paid no mind, not letting up on the affection until it died down into sniffles and hiccups. You clung to him like a koala to a tree, desperate to feel better in some way, so overwhelmed with everything.

Sleep quickly overtook you again, sleeping into dreamless unconsciousness against his form.

As always this is inspired by @explorevenus fic Something Permanent as well as @gigabyte-flare, @girldungeon, and @lipglossanon's work. @elfven-blog was so kind as to help find the banner pics. Love them all, go check out their work.

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mouschiwrites · 6 months

Text

Creepypasta/MH - Doing Halloween Stuff With Them :)

(Characters: Tim/Masky, Eyeless Jack, Jeff the Killer, Nina the Killer, Jane the Killer, Ticci Toby)

Tim/Masky

Hear me out... corn maze

I believe that Tim enjoys a good puzzle every now and again

He loves trying to figure things out (specifically when there's nothing at risk)

Getting to show off his navigational skills is also a major plus

He just likes to impress you, even if it comes off as annoying sometimes

"See? What'd I tell you? The exit's right there."

Though he does like the satisfaction of completing the maze, what he really treasures is that time you spend together figuring it out

Once you finally find the exit, you'll celebrate with hot cocoa :D

Eyeless Jack

This man LOVES carving pumpkins

He goes all out; definitely one of those people who makes the crazy intricate designs that look like they take hours

He'll love it if you help him!

If you have a steady hand, he'll let you do the details

If you don't, he'll task you with gutting the pumpkin/handing him tools

You guys collaborate on multiple pumpkins throughout the month, setting them in random locations for everyone to see

If there's a design you want to do, just show it to him, there's no question he'll be down

If it's too simplistic, he'll try to add more details

"Ooh, Jack, look at this one. Can we try to re-create it?"

"Of course! Though I do have some ideas on how it can be improved..."

Jeff the Killer

Another pumpkin carving enjoyer

But for a different reason... a very different reason

He loves the goriness of gutting the pumpkins

He couldn't care less about making actual designs, he just wants to get messy stabbing the pumpkin and gouging out its insides

That being said, he'll 100% gut your pumpkin if you ask him (he'll probably end up doing it even if you don't ask)

It's honestly a little disturbing watching him work

He just gets this look in his eye...

"You, uh... you doing okay there, Jeff?"

"Hm? Yup! Never better!! Say, can you grab the big knife from the kitchen for me?"

Nina the Killer

You best bet she's the costume queen

Spends the whole year planning matching horror-themed costumes

She'll settle for no less than creativity and perfection

High-quality props and articles only!! She'll even make them herself if she has to!

You can expect to spend at least an hour in front of the mirror while she does your makeup/adjusts your clothes

She's an SFX makeup legend, loves incorporating as much gore into your costume as possible

Don't ask why it's so realistic (it's not like she knows how the wound would look if it was real or anything)

"Wow, Nina... It's almost like I can feel it! It's so real!"

"No, no. If you were feeling it, you would be screaming pretty loud right now."

You can also expect to attend multiple parties where you show off your costumes

You guys dominate costume competitions

Jane the Killer

Horror movies!!

Specifically, making fun of them

You both pick apart the plot, the characters, the dialogue, the special effects, everything

No horror film is safe from your scrutiny

If you're the type to get scared during horror movies, her snide comments will help distract you

"Ooh, I can't look!"

"Oh, come on. Look—I bet they used corn syrup for that fake blood. It's way too thick."

When the movie ends, you're both feeling more amused than scared

She doesn't like to see horror films in theaters because she doesn't get to make commentary, plus she doesn't want to "waste" money on a "stupid tryhard-horror flick"

She'd much rather dig up some old indie DVD/VCR and have a home movie night with you

Ticci Toby

Halloween sweets are his bread and butter

Candy apples, fun-sized candy bars, candy corn, pumpkin bread...

He would perish if you made anything homemade for him

Spends the whole month gorging on sweets almost as fast as he can get his hands on them

He will not share with anyone but you

And even you only get a small portion of his goodies

Robs at least one child on Halloween night, mostly for the candy but also because he likes scaring little kids

"Where did you get all that candy?"

"Got it from a little birdy. By that I mean a kid in Falcon cosplay."

"Toby! ... save me the (favorite candy)."

Thank you for reading! Have a good day/night my spooky pookies <33

(divider by saradika)

#creepypasta #creepypasta headcanons #creepypasta x reader #masky x reader #eyeless jack x reader #jeff the killer x reader #nina the killer x reader #jane the killer x reader #ticci toby x reader #masky #tim wright #jeff the killer #nina the killer #jane the killer #ticci toby #marble hornets #marble hornets x reader

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cybsoo2 · 3 months

Text

heated red

╰┈➤ synopsis — Min Yoongi is a man of duality. Familiar with the sugary sweet side, you can’t help but be shocked at what hides behind closed doors.

╰┈➤ pairing — yandere!suga x reader

╰┈➤ word count — 3.5k

╰┈➤ content warning — murder, … DETAILED murder, gore, violence, strong language, yandere behavior, angst

Everything about Yoongi is sugary sweet. From head to toe, Min Yoongi is the sun of your universe. Every action and every gesture proves that he’s the world’s best boyfriend.

You two have been dating for just over 2 years now, and it’s nothing short of perfection. At the beginning of your relationship, Yoongi could be mistaken as cold and uncaring; but his shy and thoughtful feelings are what brought you two together. It took some time for you both to become familiar with each other. Yet, Yoongi was determined in his attempts to get to know you. A rough relationship, still fresh and sensitive, bloomed into one of trust and time. Each touch that whispers against your skin says, “I know you, I understand you, I love you.” What Yoongi can't convey with the words that tongue-tie him, he settles to portray in his body language.

His hands always feel so solid from the way they sink into your skin, assuring you of his presence and affection for you. Candy-coated words slide down your throat while he kisses you, mumbling confessions between breaths; “God, I’m so in love with you,” a breathless kiss in between, “I’d do anything for you.” No word he speaks is dishonest and each letter weighs with the seriousness of his admission. His eyes blind you in a heated red with how much fire burns beneath them. Burnt brown eyes, almost burdensome, frequently border on urgent. As if no matter how many times he says the words, it’ll never be enough for you to understand his devotion to you.

Yoongi is loyal, kind, sweet, and everything else in between. You have no doubt that Yoongi will always continue to remain a constant comfort in your life. Although, no matter what way your brain has interpreted his presence, everyone else seems to think otherwise.

Regardless of who you cross paths with, friends, family, or foe, they plant seeds of doubt into your pretty little head. These troubling thoughts fester with wicked intentions and ideas. In Yoongi’s words, “The filth these people spit at you are just lies. Twisting themselves into your opinions and trying to cut me out. They’re just jealous. Don’t talk about them again.” When Yoongi speaks about the people that spill the blood that corrupts your mind, his face turns sour and his eyes shadow dark slits. This harsh look has played on your mind enough for you to stop bringing up the subject completely.

Yet these off comments and anxious looks continue to devour your mind. Whispers pick up in the wind about how Yoongi is a liar. They talk about the dead eyes that contradict the expressive cat-like ones that follow your motions. His heavy hands on your hips don’t match up to the tight grip he takes to the back of your friend’s necks. A warning, or a friendly gesture; you and those around you seem to have two very different ways of deciphering the deeper design of Yoongi’s actions.

Today you felt like you were living life in a maze. Chasing demands from not only your boss, but Yoongi too. You spent the day running around the city until the sun set.

You vividly remember how this morning had gone. Walking in through the elevator, shots of minimalistic grey meet your eye. Stale flowers and sweet perfume waft into the wind. You can’t help but feel small in the presence of such expensive luxury. Girls and guys decorated like dolls in diamonds. Even the blood on their hands shines like rubies. A strike upon the back of your head interrupts your staring.

“What are you doing standing there doing nothing? I’ve got things for you to do.”

You’ve run yourself down running around like a headless chicken. Searching across town for the products and tasks you’ve been sent to complete. Vain efforts that are impractical and impossible.

Once the hand hits 5 and your work is done for the day, Yoongi had texted you asking a few favours. No matter how drained you were, you could never refuse a request from him. You dragged your drowsy self into the driver’s seat and prayed the time would go by fast.

It did not. It seemed as if Yoongi was persistent that you stay running into endless walls and dead-ends. Too many things out of stock, nonexistent, or a million miles away. The stars start to shine in the sky, mirroring the way your eyes glisten with galaxies of exhaustion.

The drive home is a blue blur. Your head mixes up time with tiredness, and your sore eyes paint watercolour tears over your surroundings. This bleary fog blinds you, and once it lifts the slightest bit, you find yourself standing at the front door.

When you walk through the door, you wish you hadn’t. Yoongi’s kneeled over someone, it would look intimate if it wasn’t for the muffled screams and rageful roars that harmonize in the air. He’s shouting at her, choking and stumbling through laughter that never seizes. She’s trying to scream, but his hand holds a rag that’s shoved halfway down her throat. A dirted knife is held in his other.

You can barely recognize the women beneath her own blood and carnage, but you manage. You’re able to distinguish the bleached blonde hair that he rips from her scalp. The array of hair sprawled out around the two bodies guides your eyes to the bejeweled earrings you set your sights upon only hours earlier. This gore has glossed over the diamonds, leaving them dull and lifeless.

You remember the face that matched the gems, young and confident. That pearly white smile that once had you feeling envious has been knocked off her cocky grin. You’re able to pinpoint her place above you. Her, the idolized icon and you as her dirty dog.

She’s your manager, or maybe she won’t be when Yoongi’s finished with her. She adopted you to be her pet. A plaything to possess in her position of power. Always replaceable and inevitably desperate, you played along with her game to keep your job. It paid well and the benefits were more than anyone could ever hope for. In a game of pain and promise, you chose the former in order to receive the latter. This tiresome torture laid an ache in your heart, yet Yoongi was there to stitch back the pieces. Giving yourself up to be teased and toyed with by a tyrant allowed you to have a peaceful life with Yoongi, separate from the harm.

Yet sometimes, in the blue afternoon when the world is set to silence, the stinging sadness slips through the cracks. You’ve never been good at keeping things hidden from Yoongi, and you’d like to assume the same for him too. You strained your sore throat through the crying and told Yoongi about everything that happens daily at work. Her taunts that leave you tense and the impossible tasks she’d give only to punish you after you failed to complete them.

Your rampant rant had left you tired and you leaned up against his chest. The only sound that made sense in your mind was the rushing red flowing through his heart. A serene song that serenades you to sleep. You counted the beats as you drifted off into dreamland. 1, a heart that keeps Yoongi alive. 2, a heartbeat that means he’s here. 3, a heartache that tears him apart.

You couldn’t see it then, off in euphoria while Yoongi laid wide awake. But a bloodshot look with black pupils bled misery down his features. Hot and steady, sorrow fell off his face and the teardrops kissed your skin. Yoongi’s head and heart had been set ablaze into a state of chaos. Hot fury and cold desperation confused him. He’s angry and sad all at once. Although, much like any other time, his rage outweighed the anguish and fiery eyes ignited.

This was 3 days ago. Yet now you stand amidst an annihilation. The bloodbath soaks every surface of your home. Lost pieces of hair, skin, and claret carnage find their way upon tabletops and splattered across the walls. The sight steals your breath, making you a mute statue in this red revelation. After minutes of struggling with a swollen tongue and stolen speech, you squeak out his name in surprise.

“Yo-Yoongi,” the words leave your lips tainted in tragedy. You can barely make out a single syllable from the flood of nausea that rushes through you. You sound so betrayed, it sends a hot hell-fire burning through Yoongi. The knife clatters to the floor when he whips his head up to face you.

“Y/n!” His gasp is laced with feverish panic that leaves his heart racing. Liquid white agony tangles itself through his veins.

Once Yoongi directs all his attention to this distraction, the victim on the ground struggles against the dark burden of death. Her shrill scream pierces the silence as she whips her head back and forth in hysteria. Her own mindless panic causes her to smack her head against the wooden floorboards 10 times over. Blood sprays every which way as she mindlessly flails her lost limbs. It’s pathetic to watch her squirm under the inevitable circumstances. Severed stumps replace what was once her arms. Her legs fare no better; mutilated beyond repair, the joints cause their appendages to stick up in an unflattering way.

The girl’s ear splitting shrieks muddled together with her own blood continue on without stopping. The inhumane noises are both maddening and horrifying to two different people.

Yoongi feels his irritation rise to a breaking point. The fucked up bitch lying desperate on the floor is trying to ruin his chances of explanation.

“SHUT THE FUCK UP!” He roughly grabs her head and bashes it into the floor until she stops screaming. She’s left a mangled mess upon the ground. Skin slit in every direction, and cuts ripped apart from the force of his anger. Brain matter spills out the back of her dented cranium. Her whole body twitches before falling into a limp pile amongst the bloodshed.

Yoongi stands back up from his place knelt over her corpse. He frantically attempts to wipe off the scarlet sins that stain his hands. With a wild fever, Yoongi rubs his hands raw onto his pants and shakes his head in stress. You can see the way the stress sinks into his eyes as well, red-rimmed and tearing up as they stare into you.

“Y/n, y/n please. Please listen.” Each word is slurred together from the tears and terror that take hold of him. He rushes toward you in desperation and you watch as his eyes widen when you step back. “Please, this doesn’t mean anything. I still love you, I LOVE YOU!” His hopelessness destroys his composure as he begins yelling in order to get his message across. Seeing you flinch and fail to hide the fear in your watery eyes leads Yoongi to take a different approach. “I love you, I love you. This is just proving how much you mean to me.” He’s reached you now. Standing six inches away and tugging your figure to fall into him. “I’d do anything for you.” He mumbles his declaration in a low tone. He matches your misty eyes and stares into you.

He holds half your weight, keeping your knees from giving in and dropping you downwards. He keeps you pushed gently against the wall and pressed into his chest. His hands keep your head cradled gently as he moves to hug you close.

He lays kisses along your jawline and makes his way up, hoping that if he tries hard enough, he’ll be able to subdue the sadness. He’s counting the crystals as they fall and making sure they don’t double.

Yoongi hates seeing you cry. His hands shake along with yours as the remorse for his actions flows through him. Although don’t be mistaken, his repentance should not be confused with regret. No, Yoongi doesn’t regret killing that filthy bitch at all. Pride swells in his chest and he chokes back a smile from reminiscing on her screams. Yoongi instead is regretful of not being more careful. He should’ve hidden this better. Shouldn’t have gotten caught up in the rush and been careless with his decisions. He wishes you never would’ve seen that.

Your tears leave tracks in the bloodshed he’s spilled upon you. Your cries have been shushed into small sniffles, but you feel all the same. Shock has taken over your limbs, leaving them heavy for him to carry. All thoughts have been blown out of your head at the drop of this bombshell.

What were once lipstick marks are now bloodstains. He continues to kiss the pain away. Dragging his lips slowly up your neck and back down lower. These ruby smudges leave raised marks when his caressing begins to hold back an anger. If you could get your mouth to mutter easy words, then you would tell him that his lips sting. His kisses feel like bleach to bare skin. The trails he traces down your body leave shadows of his sins. Each peck he places on your pink cheeks holds the memories of the shouts he yelled only moments prior.

“Let me get you cleaned up.” His husky whisper is placed at the base of your jaw. He pulls himself away far enough to look in your eyes. Your foreheads almost touching and your warm breath being shared between you. When you don’t resist he places a final kiss to your lips before steadying you against him once more.

He’s patient and careful in the way he puppeteers your movements. Taking control of each limb as if it’s his own. He towers over you with the way he holds you. Your feet placed atop his, he walks you two, slow and steady, to the bedroom. Placing you down on the bed, he keeps you safe with your head nestled into his neck. He kisses the top of your head and lingers. Grabbing the hem of your shirt, he asks a question that only stills in the quiet.

“Good?” There’s no response. He bends down a tad bit further to try and look into your drowsy eyes. Your head hung so heavy against his collarbone only lets him move so far. “Tell me if you’re uncomfortable.” He takes off your top, moving to your pants, and then follows with your underwear. Empathetic emotions sway his movements as every action is taken bit-by-bit. Taking your body’s behavior as a guiding force on what causes your anxiety to jump. Strong, sharp movements cause you to recoil and a voice that resembles even a hint of a shout or gravely tone sends shivers up your spine. Your goosebumps travel across Yoongi’s skin too.

Now you’re left bare and sensitive under his skin. Yoongi works to avoid your empty eyes. Instead, he makes sure to support your vulnerable soul. You’ll remain in his arms where he’ll keep you warm and safe. He clings to your fading existence as he takes you into the bathroom. He holds a patient pace, wary of the wind that might steal away more pieces of you.

He tears his clothes off in a blur, focused on attending to you. Sitting you on the edge of the bathtub, he reaches over to turn on the shower. Each minute is counted in Yoongi’s head as he waits for the water to warm up. One hand extended out to feel the heat, and the other rested on the crown of your head. You rest against his stomach, forehead sticking to his stress induced sweat. So limpid and lazy, you don’t even take the chance to outstretch yourself and grasp onto him. His waist is cold without your arms wrapped around it. Your brittle breath against his belly-button only startles the man instead of teasing a lustful heat that such a position would usually bring. You just lay like a dead doll against him. So silent and still you can almost hear the snakes that stir up a storm in his stomach.

When the water is a tender temperature, Yoongi picks you up from the meat of your thighs and slides you two into the steam. You stay standing under the water for a while; waiting and watching as time continues its cascade. Yoongi tries to take away all the blood smeared across both of you. Slender hands slide across your skin, rubbing at the red until it washes away.

His actions soon become more aimless as he grows selfishly desperate to feel your soul. His hands laid heavy upon your hips. His grip tightens and he places meaningless pecks anywhere he can find. His fingernails press a little too deep into your pink flesh, yet there’s no reaction to the pain. His hands work in a flurry to fist any piece of skin he can latch onto. Your wet bodies are so close you’re on the verge of blurring into one. So close, yet Yoongi still can’t feel you. There’s no life beneath his fingertips.

Your despondency startles him. Usually your energetic nature is what he relies on most. A permanent piece of his life that never changes and never falters. Just looking at you now, feeling the cold statue in his arms, he wants to cut himself to shreds attempting to bleed out this displeasure. Even if it is his own doing, he’ll make sure he’s also the one to fix you.

Yoongi starts by shifting you both so you can sit in the base of the bathtub. He reaches to the shelf above your head and grabs the shampoo. His hands work their way through your hair. He detangles the knots from both your curls, and hopefully your mind. Yoongi has always been so meticulous in everything he does. He takes long, languid movements to assure no soap gets in your eyes. And when a droplet slips past his grasp, he’ll kiss away the escapee while grimacing at the suds his tongue tastes.

His caring efforts are used to calm himself just as much as they are meant for you. He’s trying to distract himself from his uneven breathing that edges the line of a mental breakdown. His rasping continues as he now reaches for the second bottle above you.

Once again, Yoongi works to lather the conditioner in his hands before smoothing it through your hair. He’s petting you how someone would comfort a dog, or console a crying child. Each easy touch he makes in order to not startle you any further. When he grabs the soap, he’s diligent with his motions. Efficient at scrubbing you clean, but tender in the way he maneuvers you.

An hour washes itself down the drain. The water has run cold and the stream has cooled away. Yoongi takes your hands and wraps them around his neck before picking you up. He places you on the bathmat and reaches to grab a towel. You're patted dry before being wrapped in the dirty towel. Lifted up again, the man in front of you takes another dry towel off the rack. Yoongi is shaking from the frigid temperature that creeps around him. This feeling could be the least of his worries and he only pays attention to scaring away the icy droplets from your hair. He smooths your hair in one stroke with the towel then follows up by softening your strands with a brush. This two step process continues until Yoongi has been completely air-dried by the bitter cold. Random but repeated chills bite along his bare back and stir up shivers.

Atrophy sets in when Yoongi begins to dress you. You're shock-still and there are no signs of it stopping. Unstirring and motionless, set to fall unless Yoongi was there to hold you. It’s significantly more difficult to dress you, so Yoongi only settles for underwear and one of his shirts. He decides to only wear boxers, opting to show you the most humane and vulnerable parts of himself. He leaves himself defenseless, ready to accept anything you give him. You’re pulled and pushed until you settle into the sheets. Both Yoongi and the bed wrap around you. Clinging to every empty space of you, they work to make you warm and soft for sleep.

Yoongi pushes himself closer against you and tugs at the covers to bring them up higher. His bitten lips lay resting on the nape of your neck. He navigates his hands through the blankets to find your own. He noses the back of your neck and wishes pretty pleas for you to wake up like none of this ever happened

“I’m sorry… I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry…” His melody of the sincerest apologies sings you to sleep. His hymn echoes off the shadowed walls of the bedroom and settles into background noise. The soft words vibrate against your back, almost resembling a purr. Saccharine sorrys and repeats of “Don’t be afraid, I’d never hurt you,” are mumbled until Yoongi loses his voice. His sore throat stings with a metallic taste.

Feverish determination ends up sedating his sorrows. He’ll guide you into his good graces once again. He’s patient and gentle. As time tumbles onwards, he’ll be the best boyfriend once again, because everything about Yoongi is sugary sweet.

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ghostfacesvalentine · 7 months

Text

HALLOWEEN DAY 2: Too scary - Multi!Muse x Fem!Reader

Pairing: Multi!muse x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Mentions of scary movies, trauma, blood, gore, etc. Nothing too graphic

Type: Blurbs

Request: N/A

Word Count: N/A

Prompt: Turns out the movie was too terrifying for little Y/N to handle, therefore it’s their job to comfort you.

Notes: Let’s see how long I can keep this up.

Jason Voorhees: At first he wouldn’t notice, mostly focused on the movie and the candy he’s stuffing his face with. When you’d shuffle around, when he’d notice the constant movement, then he’d take a look at you only to find you with your knees close to your chest with your arms wrapped around them. It’d take a moment for him to register that your stomach was turning at the imagery. Once he would, Jason would instantly coop you up into his arms and keep you in a tiny ball, doing his best to protect you from your thoughts.

Michael Myers: He can smell fear, he’s always been exposed to fear all around him, it’s like second nature to him. When he realizes you’re afraid of the movie, he turns over to stare at you for a moment, which makes you even more uneasy. Thinking Michael looks at you like you’re a big baby, you decide to just cross your arms and brave through the rest of the film. Of course, failing miserably. Michael would force you into his arms, letting you kind of flop into his arms and situate yourself however you wanted.

Tiffany Valentine: She loves horror movies, it’s one of the things that could keep her occupied. While your stomach twists at the imagery and blood splatter on the screen, Tiffany seems mesmerized by it, not paying much attention to your squeamish reaction. Once you’re both done with the movie, she’d turn to you asking “So, how’d you like it?” Only to see you near traumatized. “Y/N!” Tiffany would wrap her arms around your face and bring you into her chest, pressing you into a hug. “Was that too scary? Why didn’t you say anything babe?” Of course she’d make it up to you, with much affection and endearment.

Billy Loomis: Doesn’t even notice at first how uncomfortable you are, no matter how much you nuzzle into him. A few flinches in, he’d look down to you to make sure you were awake, but to see you near in tears would cause him to stop the movie. “Y/N? You okay? We can stop watching this, I just thought you’d like to see it with me.” He knew better than to keep it playing when you’d tell him you were fine. “No, I mean, it’s kinda lame anyway, here’s the remote, find something better. I’m gonna get another beer, you want anything?” Then he’d come back, lay into the arm rest and bring you down with him, making sure you were cuddled into the blanket on the couch.

Stu Macher: What a dumbass, he wouldn’t really notice at all if you were crying or looking away from the screen too much. He’s “in the moment” with the gory scenes. After the movie, Stu would ask you how you’d like it only to see hot tears streaming down your cheeks. He’d laugh a little bit at how scared you looked, but then would give you the tightest hug. Stu would hold you tightly enough to give you some troubles breathing regularly, letting you put on some cartoons to forget the imagery. Will this happen again? Absolutely.

Patrick Bateman: Ok, he’s probably the worst of them all. Patrick watches snuff films and all kinds of gruesome films for fun. When you brought it up to his attention, he was more than happy to show you what he liked and explain to you the different methods of torture and what part inflicted the most pain. Even if you’d throw up, Patrick would keep the film going, mesmerized by the screams telling you “It’s actually not that bad.” But he’d let you hide into his arm, clenching onto it as you did so, but there was no way to hide from the terrorizing screams and Patrick's chuckle throughout it.

Leatherface: Honestly always checking up on you through every scene. Bubba doesn’t even want you to watch the scary films, he would think you were too pure for them, ironically. If you insisted though, he’d let you, holding you close to him and giving you space to hide if you needed to look away, which seemed to be often. Bubba would be ready to turn off the screen at any moment, one arm wrapped around you and the other one with the finger on the off button. He too would let you watch cartoons with him after. Bubba would offer you your favorite junk food or candy and let you snuggle into him while you laugh at the new pictures on the screen.

Harley Quinn: Is SUPER into horror. Laughs at the screams and blood splatter “Y/N! Y/N! Did ya see that? Did ya see it?! Let me rewind it.” Harleys a bit clueless when it comes to seeing your discomfort at first, but then when she notices you keep flinching or looking away, her expression immediately changes. “Oh my god Y/N? Are you afraid of this? You shoulda said something pumpkin’!” Immediately cuddles you and keeps you close to her chest, changing the channel to a Disney movie. Harley would be THE best at comforting you, squeezing the near life out of you to keep you comfortable and your mind off of things. Lots of comfort food, honestly.

Poison Ivy: Isn’t necessarily obsessed with horror movies and gore, not very interested in it either but she doesn’t mind playing the exorcist for background noise. If you’re not obviously telling her that you’re scared or you want to play something else, she would pick up on how you would react. Flinching at certain moments in the movie, looking away from the screen constantly, all things Pamela would notice, putting two and two together, she’d turn off the TV, telling you simply “What a trashy movie, let’s go play.” And would lead you into the bedroom for some TLC. Pamela’s love language would be physical touch and she would make sure you would get enough of it to fall asleep to. She’d make a mental note to stay away from horror movies with you.

Bruce Wayne: Never was really big with horror movies to begin with. Bruce grew up with musicals and operas, he was cultured in filmmaking, but horror never really made a mark in his interests, mainly because of the real life horrors he had to face already. Of course Bruce picks up on everything, noticing your reluctance in watching any more of this movie, he decides to nuzzle you into him, not saying a word and changing the channel, or taking your hand to lead you out of the theater. After all, Bruce knew what it felt like to be afraid. Expect a ton of tender touches and soft kisses.

Jason Todd: Sweetest energy tbh. Whether your watching a scary movie as a group or together, his reaction would be similar in both scenarios. As soon as he’d feel your palm in a cold sweat he’d look for your reaction, even if you try to brave through it, Jason would pull your face into his chest, kissing the top of your head. ‘What a bullshit ass movie.” He’d mumble while subconsciously caressing the back of your head. “You’re being brave dollface, but you don’t have to be.” He’d whisper to you and give you a squeeze. ”Come on, let’s get out of here.”

Billy Hargrove: Notices instantly, but wouldn’t want to call you out on it. Instead he would also pull a stunt like Pamela. Telling you “This is kinda tacky, let’s leave.” And would lead you out of the movie theater, turn off the TV or leave whatever house party you were at. He’d make sure to never let you go, holding your hand, keeping his arm around your waist as usual, always being protective of you. Billy would make you feel safe enough to tell him what happened and what was wrong and why. He’d actually listen to you, being quiet for a moment, letting it all sink in, then comfort you by telling you “That’s nothin’ to be embarrassed about, I had a few movies that scared the daylights out of me, but you know I’m never gonna let anything happen to you.”

Steve Harrington: Knows from the start that you don’t like horror movies, he doesn’t either but he can stomach a lot more than you can. Steve was kind of taken a back when you insisted that it would be fine to have a movie night with your friends even though they planned a horror marathon. When the kill scenes would get severely worse as the movie progresses, you’d get more uncomfortable and at this point it seemed like an unspoken competition to see who could stomach more gore, you or Steve. Still, when you’d take a nap, shifting and shuffling around in the blankets, he’d know the movie maybe actually got to you. Steve would hug you tightly, caress your face when you’d drift in and out of sleep.

Steve Rogers: Would be such a big time caregiver energy. When you’d hide your face away in certain scenes, Steve would notice instantly, hugging you closely through the scene. If you kept showing discomfort, Steve would take you from the room, not offering an explanation to anyone. “Come on sweetheart, let’s go do something else” He never really understood the concept or horror movies, nor the appeal, so it wasn’t like he was missing out on anything. Steve would pick you up, letting you hide into his chest or his neck. He’d kiss your head, cheek and neck constantly, slow and full of love. “Come on angel, let’s watch something else.” He’d turn on the TV letting you chose any cartoon movie you’d be in the mood to watch.

Bucky Barnes: Also with Steve energy, he’d let you hide into him. He kind of understood the concept of the horror movies, even liked a couple but not to the extent those around you both would like. His heart melts when he sees you pout and avoiding looking at the screen. Closing your eyes waiting for the screaming to stop, Bucky would want nothing more than to reach over and pull you onto him, letting you hide into him and tell you everything was okay and it was only a movie. When the movie would be over, he’d check up on you, making sure you weren’t still thinking of it, which more than likely you were and he wouldn’t hesitate to spend the night with you, letting you curl into his body, being three times your size and keeping you safe from whatever horror you saw today.

Wanda Maximoff: She would notice it the second scene in, the minute you hesitated to agree on a horror marathon with the team, she knew maybe you were a little bit more of a baby than she initially thought. She’d play it off with you as well, telling the team the movie seemed boring and that she just wanted to go to bed, she was tired. When the others would dismiss her, not paying much attention, she would look at you, who stayed sitting in silence. “Y/N? Are you okay? You keep nodding off, come join me, let’s get you to bed.” Wanda would be your saving grace and of course she would let you sleep in her bed, keeping you comfortable and safe in her pillow fortress and arms.

Loki Laufeyson: He’d always notice any sort of discomfort in you, knowing that you weren’t able to stomach much of the gory scenes but a part of him wanted to see how much you were able to handle. Loki would sit where he was able to look at you with just a flicker of his eyelids in your direction. When you’d all have a movie night, Loki would be the one to agree to watch something gruesome just to see you squirm in your seat. When it would be too much to handle for you and you’d have to excuse yourself, Loki would come to your aid when he would pass by your room to see you sitting on the corner, hugging yourself trying to erase the imagery out of your head by watching your favorite comfort films. “Y/N? How are you doing?”

Cloud Strife: He’s not very fazed by horror movies or anything of that sort, but if he feels you hide against him again throughout the movie, he would let you. He’d hesitate to put his arm around you, but if you snuggle into it, he’d squeeze you in. Because this seemed to be very unlike Cloud, snuggling into his torso would be the most comforting thing. Cloud would let you sleep with him if you admitted you were scared, letting you snuggle in under the covers with him, he’d drape an arm over you and keep you close as you drifted off to sleep.

Aerith Gainsborough: Not terribly interested in horror movies, but would watch a few just to spend some time. Aerith has quite the strong stomach compared to you and the rest of your friends. She could sit there and watch a full marathon with you guys no problem, but if you couldn’t handle it, she’d understand and take a walk with you, picking flowers for you on the sidewalk as she would try to distract you from the imagery from before. Her smile surely would help, Aerith would be the perfect person to comfort you for something that seems as silly as a horror movie.

Sebastian Michaelis: He’d seen it all, fear is not something he was very familiar in feeling, but he knew it came as second nature to the human species. If you were afraid of a movie or show, he’d find it amusing to see you worked up over false imagery when he had seen much worse, all real as well. Sebastian would still excel in his duty to comfort you, assuring you there was nothing to fear, since he would never let anything hurt you. Being cared for by him in this way did help, you knew he meant it and it was silly for you to worry about anything that was plastered across a screen.

Spencer Reid: Would be so wholesome, he had seen so much gruesome scenes, often inspiring many of the plots of movies you two were watching, but he knew to spare you the details. When Spencer heard you wanted to see a horror movie with him, he was surprised, letting you decide which one, but when it was too much for you, he knew right when to stop it and ask you if you were okay, not wanting to have you get nightmares for the next week straight. Spencer would soothe you, holding you close to him, letting you lay down onto him and snuggle under a blanket. He’d play something more wholesome, maybe a Disney classic in the background or some sort of comedy to keep your mind off the previous imagery.

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joels-shitty-puns · 6 months

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Could I make a request please?

Either a Joel or Pedro x Reader, where he is head over heels for the reader who is really bubbly and sweet and happy and a mom friend for everyone but who is oblivious to any romantic overtures whatsoever? And where Joel or Pedro catch them crying for the first time ever and they try and hide it and go back to cooking for the friend group or whatever and Joel/Pedro get the reader to open up about what made them cry and essentially it's that someone turned them down on a dating app and it's just further confirmation that the reader will never find love or actually be a mom? Plus-sized reader preferred but definitely not required? And your choice on if it's smutty or not.

I've been reading your plus sized reader x Pedro series and loving it!!! So much emotion and genuine positivity that I couldn't help but ask for more when I felt a bit down about this today.

All my best!

Dear @jenniferpendragon,

Hi!!! I've never had a request before, I didn't know what to do with myself. Thank you. And thank you so much for your kind words about my musician fic! I'm so glad people like it.

I'm sorry you were feeling down today. If by "this" you mean you experienced the dating app situation, I'm so sorry. Love is out there for you. I know how hard it is to wait, feeling like nobody wants you, but I know it'll happen. Hang in there. ❤️

I hope you like this fic! I liked your prompt and my mind ran wild. It's way longer than I thought it would be and also I'm unsure about it, but hopefully it makes you feel a little better.

___________

Cookies 'n Scream

Pairing: No-Outbreak!Joel Miller x Plus-sized!Reader

Word count: 4.3k

Warnings: 18+ ONLY!! MDNI. Poor body image, fat shaming, food guilt, food mentions, unprotected P in V, oral, kissing, fingering, pregnancy mention, baby making sex (?), I think that's all of it but if I missed something let me know.

Other stuff: Reader is AFAB. In case it isn't clear, italics almost always are the reader's inner thoughts!

This is the first smut I've ever written and published, yikes. Hope it's decent.

__________

"Look what I bought today," you chimed in a sing-song voice while waving the DVD in front of Joel.

"No way. Zombie Slayer 6?!" Joel and Tommy yelled in unison.

"Yep! You know it!" you beamed. "I say tonight we pop this bad boy in. Tomorrow's Halloween, it's perfect."

"YES!" chimed in Sarah and Ellie, Joel's daughter and adopted daughter, roughly the same ages in their early teens.

"Absolutely not! You two are too young for this gore, you'll be up for weeks." Maria pointedly gave an eyebrow to her husband Tommy. "You guys watch the movie, I'll take the kids and we have a girl's night. We can watch Practical Magic and make cookies. Then tomorrow we'll all go trick-or-treating." The girls were pleased with this compromise and began running up to their bedrooms, chatting frantically about their costumes and which houses were allegedly going to have full-size candy bars this year.

"Really? Zombie movies? They're just kids. They aren't old enough to deal with that kind of thing," Maria said to you, judging your lack of parenting skills.

"Sorry…" you said sheepishly.

Truthfully, Halloween was your favorite holiday and always has been. You loved the spooky aspect of it, but you also loved that you could be anyone you wanted, if only for a night. For once you weren't just "the fat girl" or whatever other mean things people thought about you. You could be Wonder-Woman, or Ariel, the Grim Reaper, or a ghost. You could even eat all the sugary snacks you wanted and nobody questioned it, because Halloween was a time to indulge in candy.

If there's one thing you're sad you didn't get to enjoy on Halloween, it was the thought of being with someone you love. You'd always wanted someone to dress up in a couples costume together. Or go to a pumpkin patch for a cute little date and pick pumpkins together. You'd even dreamed about someday having a little pumpkin of your own. Picking out a little baby costume, taking them out door to door while they tried to say "trick or treat" but didn't quite know how to say such big words yet. The thought of them getting spooked by a scary decoration and running back to their daddy's arms. Your handsome brave husband, holding them close and shushing them, rubbing their little back to make it all okay. Finally the three of you would go home, tuck the little one in, sort through the candy and maybe take some for the parent tax. Then you'd flop down on the bed together before sharing a different kind of treat.

Knocking you out of your daydream, the girls ran down the stairs, backpacks on their backs, still loudly chatting about Halloween. You sighed, Maria taking the kids out towards her house.

Tommy clapped his hands together excitedly and grabbed his phone and keys. "I'm picking us up a pizza. You two better not start this damn movie without me," he warned, gesturing with his fingers from his eyes to yours and then across to his brother's before ducking out the door. You laughed and headed towards the kitchen, starting to make a quick batch of cookies before Tommy returned. Joel stood awkwardly trying to help, but mainly was just sneaking bites of dough. "Knock it off Joel! There won't be any cookies left with you around." You elbowed him while he popped another glob into his mouth with a laugh.

You rolled your eyes while he argued with you. "Whatever. My brother doesn't need these cookies anyway. He doesn't deserve your bakin', darlin'." He ate more dough.

You couldn't help but feel your chest flutter with butterflies at his nickname, but you tried to ignore them. "Oh yeah, and what about me?" You pouted up at him. "Don't I deserve any cookies?"

He put his finger on his lip as if deep in thought. "Hmmm… I dunno darlin'. Not sure if I could handle you if you get much sweeter." He winked.

"But I guess you deserve some too.." he plopped a wad of dough into your mouth, running his finger on your lip as he pulled his hand away.

You smiled, cheeks feeling warm, and chewing the soft, sugary dough.

"Oh, Joel. You're too much.." you avoided his eyes, looking down at the mixer and pretending to be busy with the cookies.

Why can't I get a man like Joel? You thought to yourself.

Two years ago, you had moved into your new house and met your neighbors, Tommy and Maria, Maria still very pregnant at the time. The three of you became fast friends and it wasn't long before you met Tommy's brother Joel. You were instantly enamored with him. His curly brown hair, mixed with silvery gray streaks, and those deep, gorgeous chocolate brown eyes. Although he could be a grump at times, it was mainly with his brother or his job, and he never showed it towards you. To you he was as sweet as the cookies you were eating.

You instantly developed a little crush on him and it seemed like he was over at his brother's house, or yours, more often than not. The two of you spent time together alone as well, watching movies, talking, doing whatever. Things felt so simple with him, and you knew he would always be there if you needed help with anything. With him, you never felt fat. You never felt ugly. You didn't feel self-conscious. You were just you. He was just him.

As your friendship progressed, your crush developed quickly into love. But you knew deep down there was no way he could ever feel the same. He was too handsome and charming to ever go for a woman like you, so you pushed down your feelings as best as you could, and even tried some dating apps to try and find someone else to fill the empty space in your heart.

What you didn't know was that Joel was absolutely head-over-heels, smitten with you, from the moment he laid eyes on you at his brother's backyard barbecue. Sure he loved his brother, but nobody wants to spend that much time at their sibling's house. He came over constantly, hoping to see you, until eventually you became close enough that he didn't have to make a scene at his brother's house to get your attention. He could just go to yours.

Tommy constantly teased him about it, and Maria couldn't help but notice the way you looked at Joel either. Even the kids could tell. The girls loved you like a mother, though you'd never see it. It seemed that it was obvious to everyone but you and him. Joel would flirt, try to gently touch you, be sweet, but you never picked up on it. Although you never pushed away his attempts, you never seemed to reciprocate either, so Joel just figured you didn't like him that way. But he couldn't help flirting, touching, staring at you. And if you didn't protest, he didn't plan to stop. He couldn't if he tried.

While the two of you talked, the cookies, what was left of them, baked in the oven. Finally Tommy came in, two large pizzas in hand. "Now I better not see that movie playing! I warned you two."

He noticed the black television screen and wandered to the kitchen. "Good. You waited for me- oh man! You made cookies? My favorite," he said with grabby hands towards the first pan, still cooling on the stove.

"Now, don't spoil your dinner. You just brought pizza home, let's eat." You shot a knowing look with Joel after the two of you were practically full already with cookie dough.

"Fine. Whatever, mom." Tommy took a plate from you, sliding a piece of pizza onto his plate and heading towards the couch.

_____

An hour into the movie, you were all full with pizza and dessert, Tommy in the sofa chair on the side, you and Joel settled into the love seat. You leaned towards his right side, his right arm over the back of your seat. A blanket covered the two of you, and his left hand was crossed over his lap on top of the blanket, hoping you would hold it if you got scared. Whenever a jump scare did happen, you didn't grab for him, but at the slightest flinch, he would palm your knee, rubbing his thumb over you to calm you down. Such a nice guy. I'm so lucky to have him as my friend.

Once when Joel did this, Tommy caught the sight out of the corner of his vision. He rolled his eyes and gave a gagging face. Joel gave him a quick angry brother stare that made Tommy turn back toward the film.

At some point, you felt your pocket buzz. Peering under the blanket at your screen, you saw the little heart notification, letting you know it was one of the dating apps you downloaded. Heart beating faster, you excused yourself saying you wanted to get a drink. Upon entering the kitchen, you quickly opened the notification with shaky hands. You had sent out at least a half dozen matches to people, all turned down the second they saw your profile. The most recent had sent a message as well. "Seriously? Ur gross. Good luck finding anyone to date you lmao." Tears welled up in your eyes as you looked down at your body and pinched the fat of your stomach. You had four apps and had sent countless requests, matches, and swipes. Even guys who were big themselves had turned you down. You looked in the kitchen at the pile of cookies, the mostly empty pizza boxes, the bowl of Halloween candy. If the boys weren't here, you'd toss it all in the trash. You suddenly felt self-conscious. Your clothes were tight, your body was heavy and flabby, and you almost felt nauseous. The first sting of tears welled at your eyes, and you dashed off to your bedroom, hoping to quell these emotions before anyone would notice. You weren't ready to go back to the living room.

After a couple minutes, Joel had paused the TV to wait for your return. "She probably had to pee or something. Said she was gettin' a drink." Tommy nodded and the two of them talked. After about ten minutes had passed, Joel began to worry. Even Tommy began to wonder and finally said "where'd your girlfriend end up? It's been a while."

Joel shook his head at Tommy's name for you, but got up off the couch. "I'll go see what's up." He walked into the kitchen and didn't see you, so he kept walking through the house before finally starting upstairs. "Darlin'? You okay?" He still didn't see you, but upon approaching your bedroom door, he heard a soft sniffle.

He gently tapped on the door with his index finger's knuckle. "Sweetheart?" Your sniffling stopped and you quickly wiped your eyes, trying to hide your tears as he slowly opened the door.

"Hey, sorry, I didn't mean to make you guys wait, I was just changing into some comfier clothes." He noticed you had switched from your favorite dress to some sweats and a baggy hoodie. You still looked beautiful to him, though he was a bit confused at the change. "I'll be right down, why don't you go start the movie again." He crossed the room to sit next to you on the bed. "I'm not going to start the movie. What's wrong, darlin'?"

You pouted, trying to choke back more tears, but his gentle brown eyes made it hard to keep your emotions inside. Joel cupped your cheek, running his thumb gently under your eyes and catching a tear that made it past your walls. You'd never cried in front of Joel before. You made it a goal of yours to try and hide any sad emotions from people, especially him.

"I don't want to ruin the night, Joel. It's nothing. Let's just go back downstairs. I'll be right behind you."

Joel stood up and nodded his head, walking out the door and closing it gently behind him.

You didn't think he'd actually leave. But it shouldn't surprise you. Who wouldn't leave you?

An aggressive sob ripped through your chest.

_____

Joel walked downstairs, joining his brother.

"You find her?" Tommy asked.

"Yeah I did. Look, she's not feeling too good right now. I think it's best we call it a night."

"Ah, man. She sick or somethin'?" Tommy asked.

"Yeah somethin' like that. I'll stay and take care of her. Can you maybe keep the kids tonight?" Joel answered, ushering Tommy out the door. Tommy gave him a look, but nodded and walked out the door towards his own house.

Joel closed the door behind him and walked back upstairs, stopping to grab a glass of water for you on the way. He knocked gently again before entering your bedroom, and you turned around, surprised to see him. "Joel? I thought you were watching the movie?"

"Nah, darlin' I could never leave you when you're upset. I sent Tommy home and he's gonna watch the girls tonight. Here, I brought you some water." He sat the water on the nightstand. "Now, you wanna tell me why you're cryin'?" He sat next to you, rubbing your back gently.

You took a sip of the water, set it back down on the nightstand, and sighed, looking down at your hands in your lap which held your cell phone.

"Well, I uh…" you cleared your throat gently. "I recently joined some dating apps..."

Joel's heart took a slight stab, but he pushed it down. You're the one needing comfort, not him.

"I guess, I dunno… I know it's kinda silly, but I've been feeling kinda lonely and y'know... I'm getting older. I'm running out of time to have babies. But, I really just want someone to call mine. Someone to laugh with and go on dates with and…" you tapered off, not wanting to admit your desire for cuddles, kisses, and love-making.

"Oh, sweet girl," he held you in his arms. "That's nothing to feel shy or silly about. It's natural to want those things. But why are you cryin'? Did somethin' happen?"

"I just… I haven't gotten any matches. Everyone I've sent anything to has denied me, and-" you sniffled and Joel pulled you tighter. "Shh, shh, sweet girl, it's okay. Those people on those apps, they don't know what they're missin' out on. They don't see how beautiful and sweet y'are. They wouldn't know how to treat you right anyway. If they can't see how wonderful you are, they don't deserve to be with ya anyway."

"Thank you Joel…" you muttered. "But… it's not just that. I got a message when we were watching the movie and I went into the kitchen to read it, and-" you handed him your phone with a sniffle. Joel pulled away from you, holding the phone back a bit to read it with his bad vision. As he read it, his jaw and fists clenched. It may have been the first time Joel saw you cry, but it was also the first time Joel got angry when it was just the two of you.

"If I knew where this asshole little boy lived, I'd go over there right now and kick his ass for saying something like that to you" he seethed. "I can't believe anyone would say something like that to you."

You picked at a hangnail on your finger, still staring at your lap. Finally Joel took a breath and looked at you again. "Darlin'. You don't - you don't believe that guy do you?" He asked while rubbing your back again.

"Maybe…" you felt tears run down your cheeks. "I mean, he's right, isn't he? I'm not attractive or skinny. Nobody wants me, not even any of these guys on this app. Even the guys who aren't skinny don't want me either."

"Sweetheart. That's just not true. Look at me-" he lifted your chin with his left hand, right arm still holding you close. You hesitantly met his gaze, your wet eyes looking into his gentle browns. "Those men, if you even wanna call them that, they wouldn't know what beautiful was if it slapped them across the face. You're the most beautiful, sweet, funny woman I've ever met. Any man would be lucky to have you." He took a deep breath before admitting, "I'd be lucky to have you."

"What-?" You interrupted him.

"Darlin'... I never want to push your boundaries, but you don't see how often I flirt with you, tease you, and touch you? You don't see how smitten I am with you?" You frowned, brows furrowing as you picked through your memory. "I thought you were just a nice guy. Just a friend. I didn't… I didn't think you could ever like me as more than a friend, so I just ignored the butterflies I got around you."

You searched his eyes, waiting for a joke, or your alarm to go off and wake you up from this dream.

"Sweetheart, I've been in love with you since just about the time I saw you walk across my brother's lawn towards me. I just figured y'wasn't interested in me that way."

"Joel," you laughed. "I've felt the same way."

He smiled, once again tilting your chin, yet this time pressing his lips to yours. The kiss was gentle, but held so much love and meaning, that the two of you couldn't help but smile in the middle of it. He pulled away, "and by the way, y'aren't old either. If anyone's old here, it's me. But if you want babies, I'll give you all the babies you want. But you already got two girls who love you. Sometimes I think they even love y'more than me," he laughed.

You smiled at him and nodded "I do love those girls like they're my own. But I would still like a little baby someday too."

He kissed you again, more passionately this time, licking your lip until you opened up and let your tongues dance together. He pulled away, running his nose across your jaw before stopping at your ear. "Only one way to give you that, darlin'." He gently bit your earlobe before kissing down your neck.

You sighed. "Joel… please."

"Please, what darlin'?" He purred, kissing your clavicle through your baggy shirt.

"Please, make love to me" you answered breathlessly, tipping your head back so he could better access your neck.

"Take these baggy clothes off then, baby. Lemme see you," he gave you one last kiss on the lips before the two of you began undressing, stopping every few seconds to share grabby kisses. Once undressed, he pulled you into him and kissed you deeply, your hands on his chest. With a swift move, he tumbled the two of you sideways so that you were now on the bed, him on his back and you straddling his hips. You leaned down, kissing his lips, while the slight movement against his waist caused you both to moan at the feeling. "Baby I've wanted this for so long. Let me take care of you," Joel whispered, thumb stroking your cheek. He flipped the two of you over, slithering down towards your waist, where you spread your legs for him. He groaned, looking at how evident it was you wanted him, pumping his already hard cock a few times. Flattening himself on his stomach, he gently touched your thighs and began to kiss your legs. "Y'sure you still want this, baby?"

"Yes Joel, please" you answered, tense with anticipation. Without a beat, he tipped his head down, licking a stripe up your slit. You let out a sigh, hips bucking toward his face. "I know baby, I know." His low timbre vibrated through your core. He gave a quick peck to your clit before swirling his tongue around it and heading downwards, licking between your folds while his nose continued to put pressure on your clit.

His fingers slid through, touching your entrance in a questioning way. "Yes, Joel, please" you cried, wiggling closer, your hands tugging at his hair.

With your pleas, he inserted his finger, curling upwards before adding a second and finally hitting that spot inside you that made your breathing catch in your chest. He stroked, while still licking gently, occasionally sucking on your clit. Before long you were gripping the sheets with one hand, his hair in your other, as you finally tumbled into your orgasm. "So beautiful, baby" he coaxed, licking you through the waves of pleasure.

"Think you're ready for me?" He looked up at you over your plush tummy. "Yes, Joel, please I'm so ready."

He stalked over your body, kissing his way up. He kissed your vulva, "I love this," he purred. He kissed your stomach, running his hands across your sides. "I love this," he licked. "I love these," he massaged your breasts, kissing each nipple. "I love you" he finally looked you in the eyes, kissing you on the lips deeply.

"I love you too." You kissed him back, running your hands through his messy hair, down his broad shoulders and back. His hand snaked around, grabbing his cock and giving a few strokes through your folds until he was wet enough. Finally he pushed against your entrance, slowly entering you, giving you enough time to adjust to his size. Your fingers clawed at his back as he finally pushed all the way in, the two of you sighing in relief.

Your body adjusted, and with a kiss to his nose, you prompted him to move. "Okay Joel, I'm ready."

Slowly, he began to thrust, pulling slowly out and gently pushing back in, eventually picking up to a pleasurable pace. He kissed you like his lips couldn't be away for longer than a few seconds, and it didn't take much before you were barreling towards your second release of the evening. "I'm almost there, Joel" you kissed, grabbing him around his back. "Me too, baby. Come for me." His thrusts were getting sloppy, but you could tell he was holding himself back for you. His fingers drifted over your clit, giving a few circular strokes and causing you to shudder around him, your eyes slamming shut with a moan. He followed right behind you, a couple messy strokes before pumping into you, filling you up and working you both through it. As the two of you came down from your high, he kissed you passionately, holding you like you were the only thing in the world.

The two of you lay on your sides, you snuggled into his chest, his chin resting on your head before eventually he became soft and slipped out of you. You both sighed at the loss, but held each other until you rolled out to use the restroom and clean up. When you returned from the bathroom, you asked if he wanted to stay and he said yes.

You lent him an extra toothbrush and the two of you stood side by side, brushing your teeth and stealing glances at each other in the mirror with matching lovesick smiles. Things felt domestic and comfortable as the two of you walked back to bed, sharing soft kisses snuggled to each other. Having completely forgotten why you were upset earlier, you fell asleep curled into his arms, full of love and hope for the future with a man you loved.

_____

The next morning, you woke up to the smell of coffee brewing and breakfast cooking. You strolled down the stairs and saw Joel, wearing just his boxers and tee shirt, grabbing a slice of toast from the toaster.

At the sound of your steps, he turned and smiled softly. "Morning, baby."

"Good morning, handsome," you replied, pressing a kiss to his lips.

"I could get used to that," Joel replied, squeezing your ass and pulling his face away to look in your eyes.

"Joel! You devil," you giggled, gently smacking his arm. "You ain't seen nothing yet, baby" he nibbled your jaw.

After the two of you ate breakfast, you shared a shower, and he threw on a pair of extra clothes he keeps in his car. It would be hard to keep his visit a secret from his brother with his car still in your driveway, but as far as Tommy was concerned, you were sick and Joel was taking care of you.

The two of you made the walk over to Tommy's house to get the girls and participate in Halloween activities for the day. Walking in the door, Tommy pulled you into a hug. "Hey, we were worried about you! Are you feeling better? Were you sick?"

You looked up at Joel, sharing a knowing look. "I was just a little upset about something, but I'm feeling much better now," you smiled.

Tommy gasped. "FINALLY!!!!" He threw his hands in the air while Maria grinned.

"Cough it up Tommy!" Sarah held out her hand to her uncle. "You know I had October." He handed her a five dollar bill.

"You bet money on us?" Joel asked in disbelief, rubbing your back.

"Obviously. You guys have both been pining since you first met," Ellie answered, rolling her eyes. "It was too entertaining for us to interfere though," Sarah added with a smirk.

You stared down at your shoes, feeling embarrassed, but Joel grabbed your hand. You smiled up at him and it felt like everything was aligned. "Yep, we finally took the step. And now I get to do this whenever I want," Joel pulled you into his arms for a deep kiss.

"UGH. GROSS, DAD." Ellie and Sarah groaned, walking out of the room.

You both laughed, sharing a smile and heading towards the group to get ready for Halloween with your family.

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