#but at the moment holding onto a coherent thought is kind of like trying to catch an eel with your bare hands in an incredibly murky swamp

[iratusmus]

i am , so sleepy

#sonic #sth #sketch #scourge the hedgehog #fiona fox #archie sonic #ignore the random bits of stuff on the side i cut this out of a larger doodle page and was too lazy to clean it up #anwyays i got like . 5 hrs of sleep. woke up at 5 am. sat in the car for like 4 hrs. i need to do stuff #but at the moment holding onto a coherent thought is kind of like trying to catch an eel with your bare hands in an incredibly murky swamp #idk if eels live in swamps but if they dont just pretend they do #iratusmus.png

[lightwing-s]

𝐒𝐄𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐓 𝐇𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐍

pairing: simon "ghost" riley x reader

It must’ve been early when the knocking woke you up. Rolling in the warmth of the bed, you struggled to get up and once you did, you walked towards the door on pure muscle memory, still too tired to proceed with any coherent thoughts.

You opened it automatically, rubbing your heavy eyes and letting out a yawn.

“Ghost, Price and I were thinking that maybe…” you heard a voice you faintly remembered blurt out words you vaguely put together. “Yn? What are you doing in Simon's room?”

Freezing at the spot, your eyes dart open, as wide as they could possibly be, and a burst of energy runs through your body, making your mind jolt alight, finally deciding to work.

“Fuck.” you whisper, as you could hear the sound of objects falling and stumbling steps rushing to your side. Simon, still shirtless, holding up his loose sweatpants and whose mask had been clumsy put on, only one of his eyes properly fitting through it’s proper hole, arrived beside you breathlessly, pulling Gaz into the room and closing the door immediately thereafter.

Pushing the Sergeant onto the unmade bed, it took him a moment to catch his breath, spinning around on the same spot on the floor. He had fixed his mask, and the moment his eyes caught yours you could clearly understand his message.

We’re fucked.

Your eyes were restless, moving from Simon and Gaz so quickly it was making you dizzy. Your hands tugged at Simon’s shirt, dressing you like a dress, but barely covering your legs, ones you were not used to exposing in front of your comrades.

It was awkward, this whole situation an awkward mess you had put you all in.

I’m sorry, you mouthed and pleaded with your eyes as Simon stopped in front of you, his hands reaching for your arm, rubbing it warm, consoling you as much as he could as you two sulked in unwanted company.

“Can you two explain what’s going on?” asked your “guest”. Exchanging glances once more, you two fought over who would break him the news. “Or am I supposed to make my own conclusions?”

“‘S pretty obvious, innit?” Simon replied, dryly.

“I wanted to hear it from you, it looks too surreal.” he said, leaning back and straightening his position, a smirk spreading on his face, amusement evident in his eyes. “The Lt and Yn shagging.”

You looked back at Simon once more, his arms crossed on his chest making his biceps look twice their size, and his clear crunched jawline, probably planning three hundred different ways to murder his teammate. Touching his shoulder, you asked for allowance, watching as he considered the options before nodding in return.

“Gaz.” you called, catching his attention. “We’re married.”

Gaz’s head bobbed forward as his eyes almost jumped out of its socket, questioning the shocking news and his own reality. To confirm your words, showed him your hands, more specifically your ring finger, where a pair of letters, ‘SR’, were tattooed secretly on its side. The Lieutenant followed suit, uncrossing his arms to expose your initials drawn on the same spot in his ring finger. 

You two were married. Married, and no one in the base knew it. Hell, they didn’t even know you two had a thing for each other, was going through Gaz’s mind.

“Married?” he repeated, more an affirmation than a question, trying to process it in his head. “I can’t wait till Johnny knows it.”

“Johnny can’t know it.” you immediately cut him. “Please, Gaz. I-it’s…” private, you wanted to add, our lives. But a lump in your throat caught you, feeling everything you’d build crumbling down. 

You’d been so careful. You and Simon had taken every possible precaution since the first night you hooked up, not wanting anyone to find out your silly “mistake”, to the day of your wedding two years ago, the most important day in your entire life. And now the secret was done for, days counted even if Gaz were kind enough to keep it to himself.

“Private.” Gaz completed your words after a brief minute of silence, and the hope in your chest grew. “I get it. You know I’m not a snitch.” Standing up, he continued. “Your secret is safe with me.” and extending his hand towards your husband he wished. “Congratulations, Simon.”

Your husband, after second thoughts, shook Gaz’s hand in his, evident force used to make sure a warning was heard: you say anything, you’re dead. However, knowing him like no one else, you notice signs no one would, and the slight drop in his shoulder lets you know he trusted his Sergeant.

“Congratulations you too, Yn.” he turned to you, giving you a tight hug instead, lifting you off your feet for a brief moment before returning you to the floor. “Does this make me the best man over Johnny?”

Fishing for a pillow, Simon threw it straight into Gaz’s head as he rushed out of your room, giggles heading out with him. You too stood laughing, enjoying knowing your secret paradise wasn’t done for yet, and trying to calm down your sulking and annoyed husband.

.

a/n: short drabble to announce i'm now taking simon and other cod men requests ♡

#simon riley x you #simon riley imagine #simon riley x reader #simon riley blurb #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x you #simon ghost riley blurb #ghost x reader #ghost riley blurb #ghost cod x reader #ghost cod imagine #ghost riley imagine #cod imagine

[cordeliawhohung]

Leftovers [3/3]

Simon Riley x fem!Reader | a non-canon addition to my mafia!141 series

part 1 | part 2 | playlist

you love him

warnings: non-con!!!! attempted suicide, self harm, abusive relationships, spanking/impact, threats, stalking, mind the tags!!! dead dove do not eat

wc: 5.2k

The dilapidating motel room that you were unfortunate enough to take refuge in smelled like Simon. Vaguely, anyway.

Damp air greeted you the moment you opened the door to your room, and the old, wet scent of cigarette smoke nearly suffocated you. You flipped the lights on where they greeted you with a flicker and buzz, yet hardly did anything to illuminate the dull wallpaper and discolored carpet. Every documentary about real life crime warned you against places like that; it was the type of room where people entered yet never exited without a gaping hole in their chest. 

Its unpleasant welcome nearly had you second guessing your escape, and a pang of trepidation echoed throughout your chest. Could you really subjugate yourself to a night alone and survive? Solitarily rotting in bed just like you used to as a pet? A shaky breath expelled past your lips as you tossed your bag onto the foot of the bed as you locked the door behind you. No, that was a different kind of solitude. Not one that you were forced into. Not something intentionally loveless. 

That was freedom. The only reason it terrified you was because you had never experienced it before. 

The digital clock on the nightstand read 2:36 which did little to quell the lump in your throat. If Simon wasn’t already home by then, you knew he would be soon. He would come home to an empty apartment, devoid of the woman he so fondly called sweetheart, and that made your stomach protest something fierce. You had only ever experienced short bursts of his anger previously over minor transgressions you had committed previously. Ones that you quickly solved lest he completely burst. If he had gotten upset by you merely asking to have your phone back, you didn’t even want to imagine the rage that would erupt within him when he realized you were gone. 

A heavy breath expelled from your chest as you sat on the edge of the bed. A thin layer of grime seemed to cover the sheets, but you knew you couldn’t expect anything more from one of the cheapest and low rated hotels in London. It was your own fault for trying to lay as low as possible; you weren’t sure there was enough money on your card to afford anywhere without bloodstains, anyway. Ignoring the uncomfortable filth that surely stained your clothes, you fished your phone out from your pocket where the screen lit up brighter than the light above your head. 

John’s text messages illuminated the screen, and you felt your throat grow tight again. His terrible wish for you to be there with him and Mrs. Price, and that fucking video of the ultrasound. You still weren’t fully convinced that it wasn’t all some sort of cruel joke. Simon said he had told John about everything. How you were done with them, how you were tired of being treated like nothing. So why the messages? 

Unless Simon had lied about that, too. 

An unsteady sigh passed between your lips as your thumbs hovered over the screen. While John and his wife hadn’t exactly been the most loving, they had never once lied to you. Not that you knew of, anyway. Since you couldn’t get the truth out of Simon, maybe you could get it out of them, yet the task was so daunting you swore you would throw up again. 

So you sat there, hunched over on the side of the bed with your phone in hand, until the red glow of the digital clock read just past three in the morning. Frayed nerves hindered your brain’s ability to hold a coherent thought, and you had spent so much time sitting there trying to think of something to say that your phone was nearly dead. Nothing good would come out of a conversation with John that late in the night, if he was still even awake. With lethargic thumbs, you typed out a quick message asking him to call you in the morning, and then the screen went dark as you locked it. 

Answers. That’s all you wanted. But your fuzzy and exhausted brain couldn’t handle that. You had spent the last few hours running like your life depended on it — running like a bad pet. Come morning, you would get what you wanted. In the meantime, you would pray sleep would take you away. 

That night was the first night that you slept fully dressed since you started living with Simon. Always had to have you bare with your naked body up against his while you slept. Such easy access to your cunt all he had to do was slither his hands between your legs to get you purring like a kitten. Some poor touch-starved creature that would do anything for the attention of something with teeth too sharp to love properly. 

You tried not to think too hard about it as you set your phone face down on the nightstand and settled into bed. You weren’t brave enough to climb underneath the covers in the fear that something truly might bite you, so you curled up like a cat on top of the comforter. The lights stayed on that night, as it had been so long since you slept alone you weren’t sure you could stomach the darkness. Childish. That thought made you cringe, but that’s what you had been reduced to. Maybe it was all you had ever been. 

When you hugged your pillow tight to your core that night, the full weight of the silence around you made your eyes sting. There was no heartbeat to lull you to sleep that night. It was one of the things you remembered craving so dearly when you lived with the Prices, something Simon had provided you without question. You wanted to cry. To mourn the things you had and the things you lost, but you refused to let those walls see your tears. 

Once your eyes closed, you swore you only slept for a single moment before they opened to find the summer sun peeking through the tacky curtains. A dull ache in your neck blossomed and radiated from the back of your skull to your shoulder blades, and the sour smell of smoke had permeated into your clothes and hair. Rolling over to stare at the digital clock revealed that it was just before seven in the morning. You had hardly gotten any sleep at all, yet you already buzzed with anticipation and uneasiness. 

An anxious hand reached for your phone where you quickly checked through your notifications. Several junk notifications clogged up your phone since you turned it on. Old emails that you hadn’t checked in months and stupid spam call notifications from weeks back. But John had yet to respond to your text, or even see it, and though that ignited a pit of worry in your stomach, you knew you had to give him time. He always got home late. Him and Mrs. Price probably slept in. 

You hated that you still had their routine so ingrained in your mind. 

No matter. There was a plan you had in your mind; steps you had to take in order to really be free from your old life. The first step was getting clean, and then getting the fuck out of there. 

Time didn’t exist in the shower, and neither did the water bill. You had quite the time watching droplets of water dance on the foggy glass door as you stood underneath the stream's embrace. Each time one fell, another formed to take its place before falling too, like some neverending dance. You watched the streaks form as you washed your body with the skin stripping complimentary body wash the motel left on the counter. It hardly got sudsy, and it didn’t leave you feeling refreshed, but it replaced that stale smoke scent with the vague idea of green apples, and that was enough for you. 

A thick veil of mist greeted you when you exited the shower, and you blindly nabbed a towel to dry your body off with. Its fabric wasn’t at all kind on your skin either, yet you still found yourself wrapping it around your body before exiting the bathroom. The sun had changed positions in the room as the morning meandered along, and you found yourself praying that John had finally answered you as you entered the main part of the room. 

“Mornin’ sweetheart.” 

Simon sat on the edge of the motel bed with his elbows on his knees. A dim light illuminated the silvery scars on his face as he scrolled through the phone in his hands. Your phone. His dark eyes broke away from the screen to look up at you, and the twitch in the corner of his mouth left your mouth dry. He turned the screen to face you where he then gently shook it as if it were contraband; something you weren’t supposed to have. Though you couldn’t read what it said, you could see John had responded to your request to call him. 

“You’ve been busy. Been naughty,” Simon continued as he turned your phone off and tossed it next to him. “Didn’t even leave a note. Just think you could up and leave?”

Your hands gripped the knot in your towel as your body began to turn to stone. It was difficult to tell if you trembled because of the cool air of the room or if you trembled because of the fear that coursed through your veins. Either way, your mouth wasn’t able to form any response to his biting tone. 

At your silence, Simon tapped his fingertips on top of your phone, causing it to lightly bounce on the old boxspring mattress. “Decided you had enough of me? Is that it? Wanting to go back to John? Go back to bein’ a fuckin’ pet?” 

“No,” you said once your tongue finally decided to work. “I just… wanted answers.” 

“Well, I’m all ears for any questions you have, sweetheart,” Simon snapped. 

His tone had you recoiling against the wall, yet you refused to look away from him. If you did, you knew it would give him enough time to pounce like an animal, and he looked almost excited to sink his teeth into you. It was wrong. You thought you would have had more time. Simon wasn’t supposed to find you that quick; no, he wasn’t supposed to find you at all. Yet there he sat, on the edge of your bed, like an owner trying to wrangle a bad dog back home. 

“How did you find me?” you asked. 

“You used a card. Anything electronic is easy to track, ‘specially in a place like this. All it took was me saying I was your husband to get the lad at the front to give me your room number. Surprised you made it this far on your own, considering how pathetic you are without me,” he said with a sour chuckle. 

“My card?” you repeated. “But… you don’t- how do you have access to my account? You can’t track me without-”

“One of the perks of working for John Price,” Simon deadpanned. 

Every word that came out of Simon’s mouth unraveled you, and it only got worse. It was as if everything he had ever told you was a lie. How naive of you to think otherwise; of course they were lies. He had lied to you from the very beginning, and instead of running then while your feet were unchained, you chose to ignore it. Hope and pray it would go away. Now, it was too late. Every part of you seemed bound to Simon, and you weren’t sure you could stand to tear yourself from him. 

“I thought you said-” you started. 

“That I wasn’t working for him anymore? That I told him how you chose to live with me? No,” Simon interrupted. “He’s got too many resources. Besides, no one just ups and leaves the mafia, sweetheart.” 

Your bottom lip began to tremble at that word. Mafia. Everyone knew about the violence that plagued London, even someone as much of a recluse as you. You didn’t want to believe him, but it made sense. Why else did John always work late? Why else would he come home some days with scuffed up knuckles? Besides, he only ever seemed to tell the truth when he tried to prod a response out of you. Simon’s smirk was faint but painfully noticeable in the crease of his lips as he tilted his head at you. 

“Yeah, figured he didn’t tell you about that,” he huffed. “No one leaves. Not even pets. Not even you. Who do you think was protectin’ you from him this whole time? Who do you think removed his tracker in your phone? Why do you think we always used my money to pay for everything? If it wasn’t for me, you’d be right back where you started. Unloved, neglected and fuckin’ abused.” 

His words cut you to pieces worse than anything else ever had. It was worse than learning Mrs. Price was pregnant. Worse than the first time Simon had ever lied to you. Hot, fat tears rolled down your cheeks while your throat constricted so tightly you swore you would choke. You made the mistake of looking away from Simon as a small sob rattled your shoulders. In a pitiful attempt to comfort yourself, you wrapped your arms around your front, keeping your towel in place as your knees nearly buckled. 

Out of the frying pan and into the fire. 

Simon’s feet were surprisingly soft against the stiff carpet of the motel room, and it took everything in you not to lean into his touch. Warm fingers ghosted against your arms, and something primal and pathetic yearned for more. But you didn’t miss him. Not Simon Riley. You just missed the warmth of someone else; warmth you were certain you could find in someone less hurtful. 

“C’mon, sweetheart,” Simon urged. His thumbs rubbed against your shoulders, and something that should have felt like knives in your skin felt all too comforting instead. “Let’s go home.” 

Some broken part of you wanted to say yes. To slap the band-aid back on and continue to let those pathetic feelings fester inside of you with no air to breathe. It would have been easy to say yes, to follow him back home like a wounded animal and continue to live in your cage. But you were so close to freedom, to living on your own without the need to be chained to anyone else. 

You didn’t bother to wipe your tears before looking at Simon. He was so close you could feel the heat radiating off of him, making your skin feel clammy. A few more tears blinked free from your eyes, staining your cheeks like glitter as you stiffened your upper lip. 

“I can’t,” you finally said, though the words felt like they would kill you. “I don’t want to. I… just wanna be left alone.” 

Simon’s face began to morph in front of your eyes. All that softness in his expression hardened into something more firm and demanding; dissapointment. It wasn’t until your back hit the wall that you realized your choice had already been decided for you. No wasn’t an answer. Neither was yes. It had only ever been what Simon had already chosen for you. 

“Wasn’t asking,” he warned. 

His grip seared your skin through your towel as his hands rested on your hips, but you had nowhere to run. Useless hands pressed against his chest as you tried to fight back against the immoveable object that was Simon Riley. Hot breath fanned across your face when he pressed his forehead to yours, and you tried not to flinch when he yanked your towel off of your body, tossing it aside where it fell in a limp pile by your feet. 

“C’mon, you’re smarter than this, arent’cha?” he prompted. Simon began to move backwards, and his firm grip on your waist gave you no choice but to stumble after him. Shame pricked the corners of your ears with a searing heat as he dragged you around, naked, like a dog on a leash. “If you don’t come home, Price’ll find ya. You understand that, yeah sweetheart? I’m the only thing keeping you from an early fuckin’ grave.” 

All it took was a simple turn and a harsh shove to get you face first on the bed. The mattress was unforgiving as it hardly gave way underneath your weight, knocking the breath from your lungs. Sweaty palms dug into the crummy comforter as you tried to push yourself up, but once Simon’s knees sunk into the mattress next to you, his hand pushed against the back of your neck, keeping your face into the bed. 

“Simon!” you cried. “Wait- please stop. I’m sorry! I just- please don’t. Please, I didn’t mean to upset you I just- there had to be a reason for it! For them to treat me like that!”

Ignoring your pleas, Simon snaked an arm underneath your hips and pulled up, putting your ass on display. An angry hand rested on the crux of your bum where his fingers twitched with anticipation. 

“A reason? It’s because they saw you as a fuckin’ pet. Nothin’ more than an animal to feed and play with,” Simon bit. “Until I found ya. Saved you from that shit, didn’t I sweetheart? Then you fuckin’ run out on me. Ruinin’ everything I worked so hard to build for ya. Ungrateful slag.” 

“Please stop!” you sobbed, cries half muffled by the bed. 

He allowed you no more time to continue to snivel before his hand raised from your bum only to slap against it with a firm palm. Its sting pierced through your skin with such force it stole your breath away, and with Simon’s hand still on the back of your neck, you had nowhere to run from the pain. Your chest heaved with a sob at the sensation, and you felt your feet involuntarily kick behind you. 

“Quiet,” he warned, voice dangerously low. “Don’t need you causin’ anymore trouble than you already have.” 

Once more his hand came down with a sharp crack where pain prickled across your skin. In some pitiful attempt to ward him off, you reached your arms behind your back as if you could push him away. All it did was make him chuckle as his thumb rubbed against the back of your neck. 

“Yeah, ‘nuff of that. Of all of it. I’ll set you straight and take you home and we can forget all about this little stunt of yours,” Simon hummed. 

Despite it all, your body could only react viscerally to the thought of returning home with him. That was the day you were supposed to become your own person without being bound to anyone else. Go out on your own and finally live your life as a human rather than a trophy. You were so close to tasting it you could scream. 

“I can’t. I can’t…” you whined. 

Another spank and your thoughts cut off with a squeak. 

“Don’t fuckin’ understand anythin’ do you?” Simon hissed. “Either you leave here with me, or you leave as John’s. He’ll find and track you within a heartbeat, and he won’t be as kind as me. Dunno about you sweetheart, but I’m not gonna sit around and let him take you again. So you leave here with me, or you don’t leave at all.” 

Not a single word rose in your mind at his threat. Tears and snot continued to stain the linens underneath you as you took his punishment, and as his hand came down on you once more, you started to believe that you deserved it. Every single bit of it. How ungrateful of you to deny him after everything he had done for you. Keeping you safe. Keeping you away from John. From the worst members of the mafia. Everything he had ever done had been to protect you, right? 

“Did you really think I’d let you run off like that? After everythin’ I've done for you?” he continued. His weight shifted on the bed as he slipped from your side to your backside. With his hand no longer on your neck, you were able to take a deep breath, though the air felt stale and salty. “No, my girl doesn’t run away. Not the mother of my kid.” 

Ice formed in your veins at his words, and you were too shocked to even cry about it. You blinked rapidly as you raised your head from the bed, and your stomach turned so violently you nearly puked all over the sheets. 

“What?” you choked out. 

Simon’s hands rubbed over your sore rump as if soothing the pain he inflicted on you only to fall from your skin a moment later. A sharp, distinct clink sounded behind you, followed by the unzipping of his pants. 

“It’s what you wanted, wasn’t it?” he asked as he pulled his cock free. “You said it yourself. You want what they have.” 

Electricity jolted through your body when the head of Simon’s pre-cum smeared cock tapped the underside of your ass. Your breath hitched in your throat as he grabbed your hips and raised you higher up, angling you just right so he could press against your cunt. Everything in you screamed to run, but the prey in you knew you wouldn’t get far enough for it to matter. 

“You wanted love, so I gave you that. They never fucked you, so I gave you that, too. Just wasn’t enough for you, was it?” Simon droned as he pressed into you. Without your arousal to assist, the stretch of him not only burned, but felt like it tore. Only the head of his cock had made it inside of your constricting cunt, and even that was too much. “Still cryin’ all the time. Still upset. The only thing that they have that we don’t is a kid. If you want one so bad, then I’ll give ya one.” 

“Wait, please,” you choked out as you wiggled. 

“What’cha so worked up for, sweetheart?” Simon patronized. “With how often I’ve fucked you before, you’re probably already knocked up anyway. No harm in trying a bit more, yeah?” 

It was impossible to answer once Simon began to press further into you. Everything within you was wound up so tight with muscles revolting against him as he made you take every painful inch of him. His love had never hurt like that before. Never felt like it tore you open to fix what was never broken in the first place. Not until then as he speared you open with no regard for the way it ripped you to shreds. 

It only got worse when he bottomed out, forcing your cunt to take what it didn’t want to. His hips snapped against yours with force so strong you were left breathless. Each agonizing thrust left you a mess as half created sobs erupted from your throat. No amount of begging would get him to change his mind or set you free. This was what you deserved for biting the hand that fed you. 

“This is what you want, isn’t it?” Simon grunted. Searing anger kept his body going as he fucked you, hands digging into either side of your hips. “A man to fuck you. To be the sweet little trophy wife. Have a cute kid or two. Isn’t it? Say it, sweetheart.” 

But you couldn’t. Even if it wasn’t for his cock bullying every breath from your lungs, you didn’t think you would be able to admit to anything. So you dug your face further into the sheets, no longer caring about the filth of it all; you just wanted to hide away as best as you could. Simon wasn’t impressed with your silence, and his hand came down hard against your backside as his relentless pace continued. You could almost feel his blood boiling in his veins from his touch alone. 

“I said, say it,” he barked. “Tell me what you want.” 

Agonizing aches ripped through your pelvis at the intrusion, and you found your hands pawing at your stomach as if you could soothe the pain. There was no love behind any of his actions. Perhaps there never had been. You just knew that you wanted it to stop. 

“You!” you finally wailed. “I want you!” 

“‘Course you do. Can’t fuckin’ live without me, can you sweetheart?”

It was enough to satisfy Simon, and he stopped verbally antagonizing you as he continued in his pursuit. Trembling fingers dug into the sheets as you kept your face hidden in the musty bed. It couldn’t go on forever, and as Simon’s hips began to stutter, you knew it would be over soon. You did your best to stifle your whimpering as he approached the end, yet he only seemed to pick up speed as if to egg you on. 

In that moment, your mind painfully reminded you of the first time you ever met him. How he just appeared in your life sitting on the living room couch as if he had always known you. You wished that you had never obeyed John that night. Never allowed Simon’s arm to wrap around you as he intertwined your lives together to the point you could no longer undo the knots. It was too late for regret. You were bound to him, soul, mind, and soon to be body. 

“Fuck.” 

Simon’s groan was deep in his throat as he remained fully sheathed inside of you while his cock twitched unabashed against the screaming walls of your cunt. The aches only got worse as he kept himself pressed up against your bruised cervix, but you bore it as he gave you every last drop of his spend. 

There was nothing left to keep your rump up in the air when Simon pulled out and away from you, and you collapsed on the bed as a mess of sticky flesh. His chuckle, once so soothing and melodic, sounded like nails on a chalkboard as he fixed his pants behind you. The bed rocked with his weight as he sat with his back turned to you, yet you paid no mind to it as you squeezed your eyes shut. You prayed that if you squeezed them tight enough, something would whisk you away and take you far, far away from that fucking motel room and away from Simon Riley. 

But you never had such luck before. 

That stale scent of cigarette smoke only grew stronger as Simon lit a fresh one. His chest expanded as he took a hefty drag, and you hoped that the ash would fall onto the carpet and burn the whole building to the ground. Half the cigarette burned by the time he turned around to face your motionless body on the bed. He cooed as he reached out for you, fingers gently raising your chin so that he could lean forward and press a kiss against your limp lips. A little bit of smoke still lingered in his mouth, and when you opened your eyes you tried to pretend that they watered because of the burn rather than the pain. 

“Ready to go home, sweetheart?” 

You didn’t remember if you fought against him when you got in the car. You didn’t remember anything. It was a complete mystery how you ended back up in Simon’s bed in that apartment, naked just how he liked you. All you knew was that everything hurt, and he had won. The next few weeks consisted of nothing but an incomplete recollection, like you looked at your memories through shattered glass. There was a vague memory of him bathing you in the shower, and another one of him feeding you by hand. It was all disconnected. Unreal. 

Your body didn’t belong to you anymore. Maybe it never did. You had become an outsider, watching that useless hunk of flesh meander around an apartment you were too tired to escape from. There was nothing in the world that would save you from whatever curse that was wrought upon you; that Simon Riley. 

The only thing you could somewhat remember were your dreams. One night, you dreamt you hid yourself away in the bathroom. It angered Simon, for some reason you couldn’t articulate. Mean hands pounded against the wood of the door as if he tried to break it down, all while he demanded you open it. You remembered voicing how you wanted to go home; how you just wanted to sleep. There was some deep dark feeling harbored inside of you that you couldn’t purge with your hands alone. 

When the door finally came down, you suddenly were no longer in the bathroom. It was cold, but you were wrapped in more blankets than you could count while Simon wrapped bandages around your arms. They felt like cuffs. Like they were more chains to keep you tethered to him, yet you didn’t fight. You couldn’t fight. You knew not to anymore, because bad pets always got punished. 

“Not leavin’ me yet, sweetheart. Not like this,” he mumbled. 

Those bandages were still on your arms the next day, and you realized it had never been a dream at all. Just another bit of your life that was too fuzzy to fully experience. It was then that you finally realized that not even Death Himself could save you from Simon Riley. Nothing could. 

It wasn’t until you were in the bathroom again that you were slammed back into your body. Each sensation that had felt so terribly numb before suddenly became painfully sharp. A terrible ache buzzed throughout your arms, stomach, and head the moment you returned to yourself. Something had stolen your conscience for a while just to kick it back in that silly brain of yours the moment it was bored, and your entire body grew cold with stark realization at what was in your hands. A pregnancy test, with two faint little lines that smiled up at you. 

Adverting your gaze from that terrible object gave you no solace as you were met with the stomach-churning image of yourself in the mirror. Between the red veins that strained in your eyes and the peeling skin on your lips, you hardly recognized yourself. Still, Simon saw past all the broken parts of you as he stood behind you, hands snaking around to your front to grab your stomach. He was much too comforting for the pain that grew in your body. 

“My sweet girl,” he whispered as he kissed the top of your head. 

He breathed in your scent and you wondered if he could pick up on the notes of rot that laid underneath the smell of shampoo and product. He had killed you a long time ago, at least some part of you, and left it to fester and decay in a place you couldn’t heal. With shaky hands, you placed the pregnancy test on the bathroom counter as you let Simon pull you against his chest. His warmth threatened to engulf you, but you knew nothing would ever burn hot enough to ignite that smothered flame inside of you. 

“I love you,” he whispered. 

With a voice as empty as your eyes, you replied: “I love you, too.”

#simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley smut #ghost smut #dead dove fic #dark fic #dead dove

[spookyserenades]

Trouvaille - Chapter Sixteen (M)

Pairing(s); BTS OT7 x Reader

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

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

Word Count; 20.5k

Trouvaille Masterlist

Trouvaille playlist

Updates on the 7th of each month

Heyyyy besties LOL! Prepare yourselves! This chapter is definitely my spiciest yet, so hold onto your seats (and don't look at me LOL I'm Seokjin thirsty). Besides that, though, we have domestic moments, and GHOSTBUSTING WOO HOO! I hope you all enjoy this and don't hate me for being thirsty. Love to hear your thoughts and thank you for reading!

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

Previous Chapter // Next Chapter

Suddenly, all of the sounds of the city faded into oblivion. Cars rushing by passed in colored blurs, romantic music flooding out from restaurants filled with couples celebrating Valentine’s Day dimmed to a hum, and all Y/N could focus on, or even register, were the clumps of powdery snow beginning to gather on Seokjin’s long, straight lashes. His fiery eyes were shifting back and forth, assessing the expression on her face, his sleek black tail curling self-consciously around his waist. Y/N’s brain was scrambling for any kind of coherent response, Seokjin’s grip on her hands going slack once the seconds stretched on. 

“Maybe I shouldn’t have said anything,” Seokjin whispered sadly, to himself. It was that statement that had Y/N snapping out of her state of shock. 

“Jin–” Y/N exclaimed, but Seokjin had let her go, turning slightly and trudging away, his hand tightening around the handles of the shopping bag. “Wait, honey!”

“We should head back to the car, it’s getting cold with the snow,” Seokjin’s voice sounded thick, like his throat was closing up, making Y/N hiss and lurch forward, catching him by his felt coat. Promptly, he halted, though he wouldn’t turn around to face her. 

“Actually, we should talk,” Y/N managed, pulling Seokjin along desperately, yanking him up the stairs of the church they were in front of and pushing the two of them inside the warm building. 

The place was lit up, but mercifully empty, and Y/N assumed the priests were in the back of the building, a separate room, where they kept vestments– Jeongguk had been telling her about various aspects of Christianity and the architecture of churches during their hours of reviewing tapes for the Sanders’ case with Namjoon. Huffing, she towed her jaguar hybrid to the enclosed room at the front of the church’s entrance, the one with a window facing altar; the space was intended for parents with crying children to sit in so as not to disturb Mass. Y/N thought it was as good of a place as any to have a private conversation without freezing their asses off in the snow. 

“W-why are we here?” Seokjin still wouldn’t turn his face to hers, instead choosing to studiously stare out the window, fixing his eyes on the elaborate wooden pulpit. 

“Seokjin, look at me,” Y/N requested gently, tugging the fabric of his coat lightly to encourage him. 

Stiffening, Seokjin swallowed, his ears still pressed flat against his wavy head of black hair, chewing on his lip as he finally looked her in the eyes once more. Heart clenching seeing the aching vulnerability on his face, she took the bag of their purchases from Eataly from his hand, placing it on one of the chairs behind them. 

“You don’t have to let me down gently, Y/N…” Seokjin uttered quietly, and despite herself, Y/N was rolling her eyes while her back was to him. 

“Seokjin, will you just hear me out for a few minutes?” Y/N replied, trying to compose herself despite the way she was nearly ready to pounce on Seokjin. “Don’t shut down on me like that.”

Seokjin remained quiet, his throat bobbing when she faced him again, Y/N sighing and wondering how the hell to explain to him her feelings, not only for him, but for the rest of his housemates. It had her head swimming, and the strong scent of church incense wasn’t helping. 

“You… said you loved me?” Y/N wanted to confirm, Seokjin’s neck turning an even deeper shade of red, but he nodded slightly nonetheless. His tail was still curled around his waist. 

“Ever since my birthday. Probably even before then,” Seokjin admitted, Y/N’s heart beginning to race in her chest, one of Seokjin’s ears fluttering at the sound. 

“Oh,” Y/N squeaked, watching Seokjin trying to not look crestfallen. 

“I had to tell you. I couldn’t keep it hidden any longer, especially after tonight,” Seokjin continued, one of his hands coming up to rub at his bicep. “Even though… you and Yoongi.”

Time stopped, space ceased to exist. All that mattered to her in those seconds was Seokjin, and his undiluted earnesty was palpable. Nothing could stop Y/N from opening her mouth impulsively, at that point. 

“I think I fell in love with you on Halloween,” Y/N blurted loudly, Seokjin’s jaw dropping open in pure shock, her voice echoing in the empty room and emphasizing the ferociousness in her tone. “Seeing you with the kids, handing out candy. Or maybe it was that night you held me after Tae and Joon’s fight.”

“What?” Seokjin breathed, a combination of elation and confusion taking over his expression. 

“I fell in love with Yoongi when he offered to teach me piano,” Y/N couldn’t help the word vomit pouring from her mouth, figuring if anything, she could confess all of her feelings to Seokjin, and maybe he’d get where she was coming from. “Jeongguk and Joon when they helped me with the spirit, that day outside when we did the cleansing ritual, I knew I loved them. I fell for Hoseok when I realized he was the glue holding us together.”

Understanding dawned on Seokjin as she spilled her guts to him, but all he did was reach for her hands, a tender look in his eyes so sweet Y/N nearly began to weep. Honestly, she could have been weeping, but she couldn’t stop her speech as Seokjin held her. 

“Seeing Jimin wear his expressions so earnestly, innocently, and Taehyung’s trust in me, his love for our home…” Y/N shuddered when Seokjin pulled her in for a hug, her face pressed against the front of his coat, and palms stroking up and down her back to soothe. “I’m in love with you all, I can’t help it, but I do. I love you, Seokjin, so, so much.”

Seokjin didn’t reply, but his chest began to vibrate with purrs, simply holding her as Y/N took a few moments to breathe, initially not coming to the conclusion that saying all of that out loud would end up being such an emotional release for her. Physically, she felt lighter once she admitted all of that to Seokjin, but she was nervous about how he was taking the news that she had feelings for 6 others. 

“You really love me? You mean it?” Seokjin broke the silence, his hands shaking as he pushed lightly on her shoulders so he could look at her face, his ears finally perked up after being pressed flat to his head for so long. 

Grasping one of his wrists, Y/N maintained eye-contact as she pressed his palm over her heart, no doubt beating rapidly even underneath her thick coat. A small exhale came from Seokjin, Y/N craning her head upwards to scan his face, not wanting to keep him in the lurch any longer. 

“Of course I mean it,” Y/N whispered, her free hand curling in the material of his coat, feeling tears gather along her lash line. “You have my heart.”

Seokjin chuckled, the sound watery, and Y/N felt his hands still trembling as they moved to cup her face, thumbs tracing over her cheekbones with reverence. She shivered, sliding her hands up his chest to rest over his heart, beating wildly, drowning in the scent of his eucalyptus body wash. 

“I–” Seokjin swallowed, his own eyes shining with unshed tears. “Can I kiss you?”

Heart stopping altogether, her eyelids fluttered as she felt his shaky hands still cradling her face, so gently she could hardly feel the touch. 

“Yes,” Y/N replied eagerly, her voice barely coming out at all, transfixed by the way Seokjin looked at her with complete adoration. “Please.”

Slowly, like time had been suspended, she watched Seokjin duck his head, his eyelids growing heavy as he nudged the tip of his nose against hers, Y/N unable to shut her eyes as his beautiful face neared closer than ever. Sucking in a tiny breath, she melted against his broad chest, fingers sliding into the close-cropped hair at the nape of his neck. When Seokjin’s eyes closed, she kept hers open a fraction, only for stars to explode in her vision once his voluminous lips landed on hers. 

Immediately making a noise of delight, Y/N sank into Seokjin, not caring that they were in public, or a church, for that matter. The press of his mouth was impossibly sweet, loving, Y/N nearly groaning as his lower lip slipped against the seam of her mouth. While the kiss was chaste, Seokjin’s thumbs still tenderly caressing her cheekbones, it had her insides igniting, angling her head so Seokjin could work his mouth against hers more deeply. Her lungs were burning for oxygen all too soon, Y/N refusing to break the lock of their lips, but unfortunately, her jaguar hybrid sensed her need to breathe, and his perfect lips slid from hers sensually. 

Before she could speak, her hands still in his hair, Seokjin began stamping kisses all over her face, like he had the last time he scented her. The purrs coming from his chest grew in volume when she sighed in bliss, Seokjin’s hands moving to cup her neck while he brushed a kiss over her jaw bone. 

“I love you, I love you…” Seokjin breathed, his warm breath washing over the side of her neck, Y/N nearly passing out in his strong arms. “My Y/N. My pretty girl, I love you…”

“S-seokjin. Mmm,” Y/N attempted to speak, though the distraction of him mouthing over the slope of her throat was overwhelming. “You, uh? Know– that I, um. Love the others, too? Does it bother you?”

Seokjin paused, pressing one last kiss underneath her earlobe, his arms wrapping around her waist securely. His warmth consumed her, and the way he held her felt like she was being cherished– her own arms wound around his wide shoulders in retribution.

“There’s nothing you could do or say that would change how I feel,” Seokjin said firmly, Y/N shivering at the finality in his tone. “I just… I didn’t think you loved me the way I love you. I had hope when we had lunch with Hannah, but…”

“Yoongi,” Y/N finished for him, nuzzling her face into his chest. 

“Does he?” Seokjin probed cautiously, running his hands through her hair, seemingly not able to get enough of touching her so freely. 

“Know? Yeah,” Y/N blushed, the whole situation so complicated, she hardly knew how it came to be in the first place. “He knows I love you. All of you.”

Seokjin rested his chin on the top of her head, humming contentedly as he held her. All she wanted in that moment was to remain in his embrace, soaking in his comforting presence, but all too soon he was drawing away, his eyes sparkling and lips a tad swollen from their kiss. 

“I think we should head home. We scandalized the priests,” Seokjin nodded to the window, Y/N’s face on fire when she realized indeed, two young priests were gawking at them from behind the glass, and both of them hurriedly returned to arranging pamphlets in the pews. 

With that, her and Seokjin giggling the entire way, they left the church, Y/N waving apologetically to the priests while Seokjin grabbed onto her free hand. Y/N didn’t have time to think about what would happen when they got home, but because she swore to herself that she wouldn’t hide information from the others anymore, she wasn’t about to sneak around with Seokjin like she had with Yoongi. 

Outside, it was still snowing, but tucked closely into Seokjin’s side, she hardly felt the cold. His arm was around her waist, hand entwined with hers, tucked into her coat pocket. The walk back to the parking garage wasn’t long, but it took twenty minutes– Seokjin stopping occasionally for a kiss amongst the snow storm, his lips melting against hers. 

“Got the bag?” Y/N jumped out of the car, glancing at their lit-up house in front of her, chewing her lip nervously. 

It wasn’t too late in the evening, so Y/N knew that everyone was probably still up, snacking on their Valentine candy and watching TV, perhaps. Namjoon’s van wasn’t running, surprisingly, so neither he nor Jeongguk were hanging out in there. Seokjin appeared from around the car, the bag of ingredients and recipes in hand, a sweet smile stretched across his face. 

Someone flicked on the porch light, most likely Namjoon, who kept quite the canine watch over the front door, especially at night. Clearing her throat, she gestured for Seokjin to head up the porch steps, following closely behind and praying the wolf hybrid wouldn’t immediately sniff out that her and Seokjin’s relationship dynamic had shifted significantly. The jaguar hybrid opened the front door, letting Y/N in first, locking up behind her promptly– if he didn’t, Namjoon would have had a stroke seeing the deadbolt pulled back. 

The house was toasty, and judging by the scent, Yoongi had made his popular roasted chicken for dinner for everyone that was left at home. She was blushing as Seokjin unzipped her coat for her, shucking it off and hanging it in the closet, the sounds of the TV from the parlor indicating that a few of the hybrids were hanging out in there. 

“You’re back,” Yoongi appeared from the kitchen, leaning against the threshold with a dish rag in his hand. “I thought I’d have to call a cab for you two.”

“No, we took a walk to digest the wine before I got behind the wheel,” Y/N replied, Yoongi smirking when Seokjin was fussing over lint on her sweater from her coat, his fingertips skimming her arms and sides and leaving a trail of fire in their wake. “Hope there’s leftover chicken for my lunch tomorrow!”

“You know there isn’t, even without you and Jin eating your fill,” Yoongi scoffed, flicking long hair out of his face. The front of his white tee-shirt was damp from doing dishes, the material clinging to the muscles of his lower abdomen. “Here, let me take that.”

Yoongi sprung forward, taking the Eataly bag from Seokjin, and Y/N didn’t miss the way Yoongi subtly sniffed in her direction, his expression turning sly as he returned to the kitchen with the swish of his spotted tail. Stiffening, knowing that Yoongi could probably detect Seokjin’s scent all over her, as well as her uneasy expression, Y/N pinched the bridge of her nose. 

“How the hell are we going to break the news without me suffering from a heart attack?” Y/N sighed, shivering when Seokjin cupped the nape of her neck, stroking the sides of her throat, Y/N blinking up at him from her spot in front of the jaguar hybrid, unease heighting when she saw the mischief on his face. “What are you–”

“I LOVE Y/N!” Seokjin suddenly hollered at the top of his lungs, Y/N flinching a foot in the air, both because she never heard Seokjin speak so loudly, and the words that came from his mouth. “SHE LOVES ME BACK!”

Cringing, Y/N supposed that was one way to do it, Seokjin bending suddenly and picking Y/N up by her waist, spinning her around like a giant goober. While her world was turning, dizzying up her head, she caught Jeongguk and the shape of his antlers, poking his head over the bannister from upstairs with a hand pressed over his mouth and his shoulders shaking. Prick. 

Hoseok barreled into the foyer from the parlor, half of a Twizzler hanging out of his mouth, clever eyes round and filled with joy. 

“No way. You told her!?” Hoseok fist-bumped the air, whistling his three-note tone, russet tail swinging merrily. Y/N’s jaw was loose, the idea that Seokjin had been discussing his feelings for her with Hoseok hard to fathom.

Namjoon’s door cracked open a few inches, his eyebrow raised in curiosity as he glanced out into the hall, his glasses slipping down the bridge of his nose. Despite the news, his gaze went straight to the front door, making sure it was locked up, his half-bitten ear fluttering in satisfaction. 

“Didn’t strike me as the polyamorous type, kiddo,” Jeongguk slouched down the stairs, tattoos on both his arms exposed with the muscle tee he was wearing. “You on the other hand, Pink Panther, you should work on subtlety.”

Embarrassed by the jab from Jeongguk, an amused glitter in his black eyes, Y/N shot him a withering glare, very aware of Seokjin still holding her mid-air like a child. 

“Yo, Yoongi! You have competition!” Hoseok shouted in the direction of the kitchen, the leopard hybrid popping into the hall and giving Hoseok the finger. 

“Foxy, I’ve never heard a voice as grating as yours, let alone known someone to flap their gums so much,” Yoongi seethed, though his expression softened when he looked at Y/N. The silent exchange between the two was, as always, supernatural, the uneven set of Yoongi’s mouth almost telling her congratulations. “Leave Y/N alone, you’re embarrassing her.”

Hoseok finished chewing his Twizzler, still staring at Seokjin proudly, Y/N tapping on Seokjin’s shoulders for him to put her down sheepishly. Seokjin, reluctantly, lowered her to the floor, glee still plain as day on his face. 

“You guys could have a thr—” Hoseok was cut off when Yoongi used the dish rag he was still holding to smack the back of the fox hybrid’s head, even Seokjin offering Hoseok a low, feral growl. “Nevermind! I’ll butt out! Y/N, come watch Step Brothers with me!”

Hoseok, quick to recover from the sharp whack of the towel, his hand massaging his scalp with a wince, gestured towards the parlor, winking at Y/N merrily. Y/N snorted, hoping that the shameful spark of enticement that struck through her at that idea was undetected by the hybrids in the foyer. Jeongguk was calling Hoseok a ‘dirty goddamn pervert’ before retreating outside for a smoke. 

Casting a look upstairs, Y/N noticed Taehyung’s door ajar, the Kodiak hybrid’s head of dark curly hair visible. Too far away to gauge his reaction, Y/N hoped that he wasn’t upset, even though Seokjin had cut right to the chase, declared their mutual affection, and they weren’t sneaking around. She felt immensely awkward, between Yoongi and Hoseok still bickering, Taehyung watching from upstairs, and Namjoon’s disinterested retreat back into his bedroom. 

“Wanna go watch the movie with me?” Y/N put her focus on Seokjin, unwilling to part with him just yet, and truthfully, missing Hoseok like a lost limb. “I can stay up for a bit longer before I head to bed for work tomorrow.”

“Mmm-hm,” Seokjin easily agreed, the peeved look on his face disappearing when Y/N reached for his hand. Before they left for the parlor, Y/N addressed Yoongi, who was heading back into the kitchen, murmuring something about “fuckin’ fox”. 

 “Hey, angel. Any idea where Jimin is?” Y/N tried to pay no mind to Seokjin pressing on the vulnerable skin of the inside of her wrist with his thumb, Yoongi humming and leaning forward, kissing her cheekbone with a featherlight ghost of his lips. 

“His room, showering. Can’t you hear the noisy-ass pipes?” Yoongi replied, jutting his chin forward in the direction of Jimin’s room down the hall. “Don’t worry. Every hybrid in a two mile radius heard Seokjin’s declaration.”

“Ass,” Y/N muttered, narrowly dodging the dish towel he twisted up to level a smack to her behind, Seokjin growling gutturally and tugging Y/N towards the parlor, ignoring Yoongi’s amused snickers. 

Hoseok was already comfortable on the recliner, the movie queued up, snacking on his Twizzlers with a wry smirk on his face, staring pointedly at her and Seokjin’s intertwined fingers. Resisting the urge to wipe that smirk off his face with her mouth, Y/N squeaked when Seokjin yanked on her hand, the jaguar hybrid plopping down on the couch with her in tow. Somehow, she found her legs draped over his lap, her back leaning on the armrest and his hands running up and down her calves indulgently. It seemed Seokjin was resuming his touchiness, and that time around, he jacked up the intensity to one thousand. 

Hoseok simply played the movie, like her and Seokjin sitting like that was completely ordinary, Y/N finding herself a little tense with the intimacy of the position she was in. However, as seconds ticked by and Seokjin’s fingertips massaged her skin vigorously, she was melting into the couch, eyes already heavy with sleep. Over the noise of the movie, Seokjin’s content purrs lulled her to sleep, and the next time she had consciousness was when she felt him gather her in his arms and carry her to her bedroom. 

“I think we’re going to schedule the investigation for Monday, do you think that will work?” Y/N was in the process of stacking a new batch of Labradorite onto the crystal table at the shop, Judy helping her with her silver bangles jangling. 

“You’ll have to give Erika a call, and I’ll book the hotel that the family will stay in overnight,” Judy replied, blowing sandy hair out of her face. 

Y/N had about one million things going on in her life at that point, but prioritizing the investigation was at the near top of the list. First, of course, was Hoseok’s birthday that upcoming Saturday, and Y/N had finally managed to plan what they were doing after squeezing it out of him. That aside, she hadn’t seen hide nor hair of Jimin in 24 hours, the coyote hybrid was already outside with the horses before she went to work that morning, so Y/N had no idea what he thought of her and Seokjin yet. Taehyung, at least, was present for her early breakfast with Yoongi, and didn’t appear upset at all, which had her and Yoongi exchanging secret looks of pure disbelief. 

“Y/N? Did you hear me?” Judy snapped her out of her thoughts, a kind smile on her face when Y/N realized she was staring blankly at a slab of rose quartz. 

“O-oh, no, I’m so sorry. I have a lot on my mind, my bad,” Y/N stuttered, Judy nodding while adjusting the way a sphere of Labradorite was sitting in a shallow bowl, so the flash of blue in the crystal was sparkling just right. “What did you say?”

“Not to worry, Y/N. I was just asking about your hybrids… that reading I gave you many months ago. Have you seen any truth in it?”

It was common for Judy to speak like that, as if she didn’t have psychic ability, but it didn’t bother Y/N at all. In fact, she preferred Judy’s way of going about divination rather than her mother’s tactic of going behind her back or blurting out her random premonitions without warning. 

“I…” Y/N fumbled with the box in front of her, accidentally dropping the rose quartz point she was holding. “I took some notes, like you suggested. I was able to connect the cards to each of them.”

“Really?” Judy exclaimed, excitement lighting up her green eyes, though the tug at the corner of her mouth told Y/N her boss knew as much. 

“Considering my boy’s pasts, when you gave me that reading at the time, I was sort of against the idea of entertaining any kind of romance between us. I wanted them to feel safe enough to start living their lives how they wanted. But I couldn’t help…”

“Falling?” Judy raised an eyebrow, her smile kind and sincere. 

“Yeah, more like I hurtled myself off the cliff of no return,” Y/N joked, thoughts going to Seokjin, who sent her off that morning with dozens of kisses peppered across her cheeks. She thought of Yoongi, who got up extra early to make more chicken for her lunch. How Taehyung would snap pictures of her when she wasn’t looking, Namjoon’s thoughtful nightly book recommendations. 

“Good to know that my readings are still accurate,” Judy was amused, placing another crystal on the table with a chuckle. “That’s why you’ve been so chipper these days. A couple of months ago you seemed very stressed out.”

“I’m still figuring things out. Two of them reciprocate my feelings, so far,” Y/N mumbled quietly, somehow finding it nice to confide in her boss. Her mother would be way too excited to talk about her and the boys. 

“Is one of them part of our new investigation team?” Judy got to her feet, dusting off her maxi skirt. “That wolf hybrid seemed quite protective of you that day you brought him here in August.”

Y/N blinked, thinking back to that day– it was the first day she even spoke to Namjoon, the day she brought him home. She shook her head quickly, a pang in her chest, remembering his stoic indifference towards her relationships with Yoongi and Seokjin. 

“No, he’s not one of them,” she replied, Judy chuckling once again. 

“Stubborn, I remember that from the card I pulled for him.”

“Oh, not to change the subject, but speaking of Namjoon– my wolf hybrid, I mean,” Y/N joined Judy at the counter with the empty cardboard box from the kitchen, chewing her lip. “He’s interested in coming to work with me a few times a week. Would it be okay if I bring him next time I’m here?”

Judy helped her break down the cardboard box, nodding enthusiastically. 

“That would be wonderful! We won’t have to haul in these crystal boxes anymore and break our backs. I take it he’s interested in your practice?”

“I think he just likes to get out of the house, and he’s a big reader. Honestly it’s our book collection here that interests him, most likely,” Y/N glanced at her watch, noting that it was time for her lunch break, mouth watering at the thought of Yoongi’s chicken. “He’ll be happy you said yes, thank you so much!”

Judy waved her off like ‘no problem’ heading to the back room. Typically, around lunch, Judy would leave Y/N at the shop and head home if she had no scheduled readings. According to the books, there was no one scheduled for services, so it was likely Judy was on her way out and Y/N would have to lock up later. Humming as she unpacked her lunch, she shot Namjoon a text. 

Y/N: Judy says you can come to work with me whenever you want! 🥳

Joonie 🐺: Thanks for asking, I’ll come with you next week.

Namjoon wasn’t much of a texter, so she left it at that, grinning at her lockscreen as she closed it. She tended to rotate wallpapers, but currently, it was the picture of Jimin and Seokjin laughing at Hoseok being chased around by Bandit the rooster. Every time she saw it, it made her snort, her heart warming. Y/N flinched when she got a notification from her banking app, her direct deposit hitting her admittedly semi-drained account. Sighing with relief, as she had spent quite a bit of money on Hoseok’s upcoming birthday, she thought it was all worth it when she glanced at his smiling face on her lockscreen. 

“We should go on a date,” Seokjin had his arms wrapped around her waist from behind while she was folding some laundry in her room, his tail winding around her leg and lips in her ear. She dropped the tank top she was holding in surprise, craning her neck so she could look at him. 

“You wanna take me on a date, Seokjinnie?” Y/N cooed, prodding at his cheek teasingly. “Where do you want to go, honey?”

Seokjin pursed his lips as he thought, nestling his chin in the crook of her neck. Nearly swooning at how affectionate he had become in just two days, she felt his steady heartbeat flush against her back. 

“We don’t even have to go anywhere, pretty. We can stay here, just do something special, the two of us,” Seokjin replied, her cheeks aflame when he called her pretty, but Y/N was reminded of Seokjin’s slight distaste for traveling, so she got what he was trying to say. 

“I like the sound of that,” Y/N resumed folding her tank top, already cooking up some ideas for an at-home date for the two of them. “How about next Friday, the 24th. I’ll plan something for the two of us, okay?”

“Mmm,” Seokjin agreed, kissing her temple, regretfully pulling away from her and reaching for the laundry basket to help her out. “Only if you let me plan some things of my own for that night.”

“Of course, love,” Y/N giggled, but her laughter was cut short once she glanced at the jaguar hybrid, who was currently folding a pair of her lacy panties. “Oh my god. Let me fold that!”

Snatching the thong away from him, Y/N wanted to throw up from humiliation, but all Seokjin did was snort, retrieving another pair of panties from the laundry basket– to her mortification. 

“You’re acting like I’ve never seen these before. Pretty, don’t you know that we’ve all been folding your underwear for months each time we have laundry duty?” Seokjin was ever so nonchalant, Y/N stupidly realizing that her panties didn’t magically appear in her dresser, when she wasn’t the one to pull them out of the dryer. 

“Oh my god,” Y/N face-planted into her mattress, the realization like a bucket of ice water dumped over her head.

 She pictured smug Jeongguk in the laundry room, hanging up one of her skimpy bralettes, or worse, utility-grade sports bras on the drying rack, nearly curling into herself in shame. Seokjin patted her back, barely containing his laughter, but all that did was make Y/N want to hide in a hole even more. 

“Y/N, you wash our underwear every week, fold it, too. You bought us underwear, you know what they look like. Don’t be so embarrassed,” Seokjin hauled Y/N up by her elbows, clear humor written all over his face, Y/N unsure whether or not she enjoyed it when he teased her so much. “Ooh. I like these ones.”

Seokjin dangled a pair of baby pink panties in front of her face with his forefinger and thumb, the pair with a tiny bow on the waistline, the fabric a mixture of cotton and lace. Absolutely scandalized, Y/N felt both involuntary arousal and annoyance strike through her. 

“Okay, now you’re fucking with me,” Y/N bat his hand out of her face, Seokjin’s squeaky laughter filling the room noisily. “Don’t be pervy, Seokjin. It doesn’t suit you!”

“Oh, no?” Seokjin cocked his head, his sleek black ears fluttering as his expression turned sly. “Shame…”

Y/N swore Seokjin’s eyes darkened, and she wondered what he meant by that, hurriedly grabbing her underwear from him and stuffing the garment into her dresser. She heard Seokjin snicker, but he mercifully stopped teasing her, moving on to fold a pair of her pajamas instead, biting his lip. 

“Um, so what should we have for dinner tonight?” Y/N changed the subject, trying to block out sudden lewd thoughts surrounding her and Seokjin, her movements jittery. 

Seokjin looked like he wanted her for dinner that night, but he managed to compose himself with his gorgeous smile, tucking her pajamas into her drawer beside her. She mentally dared him to make the innuendo that was no doubt floating around his head, but Seokjin didn’t– Y/N hardly knew if she was relieved or disappointed. 

“Well, we got those steaks in the fridge Yoongi picked up from the butcher’s shop. Didn’t you show me a recipe for steak with some kind of bourbon sauce?” 

“Oh, yeah, I could go for that,” Y/N’s mouth watered, already picturing her plate filled with meat, smashed potatoes, and maybe some crispy green beans. 

Seokjin purred, closing up her dresser. Turning, Seokjin reached for her chin, Y/N’s heart pounding harshly in her chest, the jaguar hybrid looking down at her through his eyelashes. Tilting her face up, Seokjin’s hold on her firm but delicate, and involuntarily, her tongue peeked out to moisten her lips while Seokjin’s eyes narrowed as he followed the movement. She was staring at his mouth in a daze, saying huh when he spoke again, not hearing him the first time. 

“I said, pretty,” Seokjin’s thumb pressed on her lower lip, his voice lilting and spellbinding like a siren. “If we make that, take it easy on the bourbon, okay? You got sick last time Jimin brought out the whiskey.”

“I forgot about that,” Y/N responded quietly, blush settling over her cheeks when she remembered how Seokjin had to hold her hair back while she spilled her guts into the toilet after one glass, his free hand soothingly rubbing her back when she heaved over the porcelain bowl. “Emb-barassing. At least you still loved me after that, hurling and crying hysterically… what a mess.”

“Hmm…” Seokjin strengthened the hold he had on her chin, his expression a combination of playfulness and reapproach, making her gut tighten. “What do you humans say when you get married? ‘In sickness and in health’?”

Jaw hanging loose, still not used to how deeply Seokjin felt for her, and she was at a loss as to what to say. Appearing smug, Seokjin kissed her forehead softly, continuing to speak when she had no reply. 

“Remember, you took care of my fever when you adopted me? I was returning that gesture!”

“I love you,” was all Y/N could think of in response, feeling his tail wind around her waist sensually, Y/N leaning forward and up, capturing his lips in a surprise kiss, Seokjin freezing for a moment before he parted his mouth slightly, kissing her lower lip sweetly. 

Seokjin had yet to kiss her in a way that was, well, more heated, but she loved the chaste, adoring kisses that he did offer her infinitely. She whimpered against his mouth when one of his hands landed on her lower back, pulling her closer into his embrace. Seokjin made his own noise of pleasure in response, one that had her stomach flipping over. Before she could deepen their kiss, like always, Seokjin pulled away, his pillowy lips shiny and red. Releasing the hold she had on him– fists curled into the material of his sweater, she pouted at the loss of contact, but Seokjin simply snorted through his nose and shook his head, his eyes sparkling. 

“Let’s go, we still have to switch over the laundry before starting on dinner,” Seokjin let go of her, Y/N blinking away her desire, her pout growing deeper. 

“Ugh, my muscles are sore. I don’t wanna go back upstairs,” Y/N complained, watching Seokjin scoop up the empty laundry basket, his face becoming contemplative as he assessed her, before he set the basket down again. “Judy had me schlepping in 30 pound boxes of crystals into the store all week.”

“Here, then,” Seokjin turned, bending slightly, motioning for her to get on his back with a cheeky grin. “I’ll carry you up.”

Normally, Y/N would have been embarrassed to take Seokjin up on the offer, but childlike glee welled up in herself instead– not even hesitating to jump on him with a giggle. Seokjin straightened up, adjusting his steady hold around the backs of her knees, giving her a piggyback ride up the stairs to the laundry room happily. Arms draped around her jaguar hybrid’s neck, elated, she indulged in a desire she had been holding onto for months– and planted a kiss on the side of his strong neck, Seokjin shivering beneath her. 

Y/N watched Jeongguk lift a heavy box of gadgets into Namjoon’s van, the elk hybrid grunting with the weight of it, Y/N clicking her tongue at him. It may had had been a mistake to give him a bottomless budget to go crazy on ordering equipment, because he had enough of it to film an episode of Ghost Adventures and put Zak Bagans to shame. She supposed, however, that it made him happy and less bratty, and with just two days until the scheduled investigation, she noticed the elated difference in Jeongguk’s attitude.   

“So,” Y/N began, hoping that the fact that he had a brand new set of electronics to mess with would loosen him up. “Hoseok’s birthday tonight. We’re all going to go out together, right?”

“Do I really have to spend the evening in a sweaty nightclub with a bunch of drunk and horny humans?” Jeongguk peered over his shoulder with a grimace, scratching one of his tapered ears. 

“I spent almost a grand on a fucking table for eight, so yeah, you need to suck it up and put your leather pants on,” Y/N snapped, Jeongguk spinning around and staring at her with shock and contempt. “Seokjin doesn’t like loud noises or crowds and he still agreed to go for Hoseok.”

“Jesus wept, fine,” Jeongguk put his hands up, dark eyes round. 

“You’ll have fun. Get wasted and listen to music, two of your favorite things to do,” Y/N soothed, smirking. Jeongguk rolled his eyes, returning to his task, fiddling with some kind of EMF detector that probably burnt a hole into her already slimmed-down wallet. “Where’s Joon?”

“Am I the wolf’s keeper or something?” Jeongguk raised his pierced brow, leaning his hip against the van and humming at the growing annoyance Y/N was feeling towards him. “Check the stable, he wanted to go for a walk, mentioned needing to talk to the coyote. Satisfied, kiddo?”

Muttering, she stormed away from him, peeved that he was laughing heartily at her tantrum. She wanted to similarly check in on Namjoon, who had yet to give a response to the idea of taking a limo and spending their Saturday night in a club for Hoseok. Positive that Namjoon had never stepped foot in a place like the club she had booked, she wanted to show him a few pictures so he’d have an idea of what he’d be walking into. 

A couple of weeks prior, she cornered Hoseok, hugging him around his waist and refusing to let go until he picked out what he wanted to do for his birthday. Finally, he agreed to go out to the club, his cheeks red with embarrassment, but Y/N was relieved he told her so she could book a table in advance. The fox hybrid, the morning of his birthday, went out for his long-distance Saturday run, so she didn’t get to see much of him during the afternoon. No doubt, before they left, Hoseok would spend quite a bit of time getting showered and dressed for the occasion. 

Wrapping her coat more tightly around her body, she had the stable in sight, the sound of chickens clucking within their coop, a layer of snow collected on the roof of the building. It was likely that Namjoon and Jimin heard and smelled her approach, but she hoped that she caught them off-guard, secretly. Those two particular hybrids were friendly towards each other, but it struck her as odd that Namjoon would have something in specific to discuss with the coyote hybrid. 

Pausing by the stable door and peering around it cautiously, she spotted Jimin kneeling besides what appeared to be the early stages of the garden bed constructions, sawdust covering his jeans while he pointed at something. Neither of them glanced her way, Namjoon standing with his back to her, his arms crossed over his chest. Straining her ears, she was able to eavesdrop, astounded that neither of them caught her scent yet. 

“–yeah, this smaller one here is for herbs, if that’s what you mean,” Jimin was saying, his sandy tail swishing against the ground. 

“Do you think it’s big enough?” Namjoon had skepticism painting his tone. 

“Why, you don’t think so? Y/N wanted a small one for cooking herbs,” Jimin was chewing on his lip, light eyebrows pulled together. 

“Can you do another medium-sized one? I’ve been doing some research on the types of herbs she’d be able to grow during the summer in this area, there’s quite a few. That way she’ll have a bigger variety for her practice, and we can keep the culinary herbs separate,” Namjoon requested, Y/N clasping a hand over her mouth, blown away that Namjoon would do something so nice for her without her knowing. 

“Yeah, I can do that, I have enough extra plywood,” Jimin seemed just as stunned as Y/N, his yellow eyes wide, straightening up and sticking his hands into the pockets of his blue jeans. “You’re going tonight, right?”

“You think I’m going to let Y/N waltz into a nightclub without me? Human men are fucking disgusting. She needs us all,” Namjoon scoffed, Y/N feeling like her head was swimming. “Besides the humans, drugging and assaulting each other, Hoseok is going to cut loose, so will some of the others, so it’s important someone stays relatively sober. That’s why I’m mad at the kid right now, not wanting to tag along.”

“You mean Jeongguk? I think he’ll go, too. He seems like a tough son of a bitch, but he thinks similarly to you. Isn’t that why you’re close? Isn’t that why he was the only one able to calm you down… that night?” 

Namjoon’s chest rumbled, his ears turning downwards at the mention of the night he and Taehyung had their altercation. 

“I don’t like to think of that night,” Namjoon replied quietly, the constant sway of his tail stilling somberly. “Regardless, I don’t give a shit how Jeongguk feels, I don’t care if I have to drag him by his antlers to the club. He’s going.”

“Y/N spent a lot of money on Hoseok for this,” Jimin scratched his chin sympathetically, strolling to the stack of plywood, his steel-toed boots echoing around the lofty stable. “If he doesn’t go, he’ll make a lot of new enemies around here.”

“Dramatic phrasing,” Namjoon snickered, though as he moved for the first time Y/N had been spying on them, his mouth was in a thin line, evidently agreeing with Jimin. “I wouldn’t say enemies, but between Yoongi, the bear, and Seokjin, grudges would be made.”

Jimin made a noncommittal noise of agreement, Y/N beginning to feel guilty for eavesdropping, and her head was about to explode from the apparent concern Namjoon and Jimin had for her. Y/N was so wrapped up in her own feelings and care for the boys, she forgot to realize that they might hold her well-being in high regard as well. 

Backing up a few steps as quietly as she could, she made some clumsy human noises, skipping into the stable like she hadn’t heard anything. She was proud of herself for not giving herself away with a lovestruck look plastered on her face, the fur on Namjoon’s tail standing on end when she barreled into the building, the tips of his ears turning red. 

“Hi guys, whatcha up to?” Y/N asked innocently, Jimin blinking and dropping the piece of plywood he was holding. 

“Just talking about the garden beds,” Namjoon recovered smoothly, in stark contrast to Jimin’s attempts to seem nonchalant. “What time are we leaving tonight?”

“Ooh, Joonie, you’re going to come?” Y/N continued to play stupid, leaning on one of the empty horse stalls, one that Jimin kept a surplus of hay in. “I think we’ll leave around 9:30. The club doesn’t open until 10 anyways. Jimin, you’ll come too, sweetheart?”

Jimin’s cheeks turned pink, nervously brushing sawdust from his jeans, nodding. It was somewhat hilarious to watch the two of them pretend they weren’t just talking about her, and Y/N wasn’t about to embarrass them by revealing she had been listening on, so she feigned normalcy by picking imaginary lint off of her pink sherpa coat.  

“Of course, Y/N,” Jimin blurted, using the toe of his boot to push the plywood he dropped away, one hand gliding through his golden hair. “Wouldn’t miss it!”

Thankfully, once Y/N was able to find Jimin after Seokjin’s declaration the following day when she came home from work, the coyote hybrid had acted totally normal. Having a sneaking suspicion that like Taehyung, and even Seokjin himself, Jimin was a little bit avoidant, she decided if he was going to pretend nothing was different, so would she.

“How are we getting there?” Namjoon cleared his throat, stalking up to her side. 

“I ordered a limo. Just about the only vehicle that can get us somewhere all together,” Y/N smirked, Namjoon cocking his head in confusion. Often, she forgot Namjoon wasn’t familiar with things like that. “It’s like a shorter, longer version of your van, kind of. Bench seats and a fridge filled with champagne, and the driver is separated by a partition.”

“Flashy,” Namjoon scoffed, Y/N flicking off a clump of hay clinging to his forearm. “Matches the fox’s personality, I guess.”

“Oh, yeah. There’s a dress code, I figured you two should know that– no athletic wear. Just basic slacks and a nice shirt, essentially.”

“That eliminates half of Hoseok’s wardrobe,” Jimin piped up, his ears twitching when Y/N giggled. 

“Yeah, but he cleans up well,” Y/N could hardly wait to see what Hoseok would pull out of his closet– she had zero doubts he’d look drop dead sexy. “Alright, good. Everyone’s on board! I’m gonna go shower and scrounge up something for dinner later.”

“Dress warmly, the temperature is going to drop later,” Namjoon called after her, a frown on his face. 

“Can’t make any promises, Joonie,” Y/N sent a wink his way, missing the low growl rumbling through his chest, picturing the dress she had bought for the very occasion and sashaying away. 

“She’s going to do as she pleases, isn’t she,” Namjoon muttered to Jimin, who was eyeing the way her hips swayed as she walked, but the wolf hybrid had a wry smile stretching across his face. 

Y/N took the opportunity of going out for Hoseok’s birthday to pull out all the stops appearance-wise, and she had to admit to herself, she was doing too well at it. Her makeup was dark and sultry, hair done to utter perfection, and the dress. She saw a picture of it online and bought it so fast she thought her computer was going to catch on fire. Taking a look at herself in the full-length mirror, she admired how lethal her figure looked in the short bodycon dress, legs on display, the off-the-shoulder cut of the neckline showing off the choker Namjoon gave her for Christmas. She was in the middle of strapping her heels around her ankles when a knock came on her door tentatively. Y/N guessed it might have been Taehyung, due to the hesitant sound of the knuckles against the wood. 

Heels clicking against the hardwood, she reached the door, taking a deep breath, nervously wondering what Taehyung would think of her outfit– she had never worn something so revealing around the boys and it had her hands shaking on the doorknob. Throwing it open, Taehyung’s sandalwood cologne hit her smack in the face, his carmine eyes nearly bugging out of his head when he saw her. Unable to help himself, his gaze lowered, staring at the way the material of her dress clung to every curve, his lips parting. 

“What’s up, Tae?” Y/N blurted, dazzled by his appearance, his dark curls pushed off of his forehead, a silky white button-down with pearls making up the buttons, and straight-leg slacks. Her eyes lingered on the thin gold chain around his throat, her gift to him from Christmas, too bashful to make eye contact all of a sudden. 

“The… the car, the car’s here,” Taehyung was dazed, eyes glued to her legs, Y/N’s mouth drying up. “That’s what you’re wearing?”

“Uh, yeah, why? You don’t like it?” Y/N felt her face fall, Taehyung’s throat bobbing when he swallowed urgently, shaking his head. 

“N-no, it’s fine,” Taehyung’s strained voice had color pooling in her cheeks, blindly reaching behind her so she could grab her clutch. “I’ll get your coat.”

Taehyung darted away, smoke pretty much coming off of his heels, leaving Y/N stunned. Perhaps she had gone a tad overboard with the sexy dress. That aside, his reaction had hope blooming in her chest; if that was his heated reaction to the way she looked, could it be possible that had at least a semblance of an attraction towards her? Squaring her shoulders at the thought, she marched out into the hall confidently, and when she reached the foyer, most of her boys were hanging out around the stairwell, except for Taehyung, who appeared to be fishing around in the coat closet with stiff posture. 

Similar to how they reacted at the cookout when she came out in her sundress, silence swept over the room with her arrival. Jimin’s face was so red she could probably fry an egg on one of his cheeks. Even usually-composed Yoongi’s eyes had gone round, dropping the sports jacket he was holding. Giving her a once over, licking his lips, Yoongi chuckled softly and shook his head. 

“Ready to go? Where’s Hoseok?” Y/N was hoping she wasn’t reading smug, Seokjin frowning when he poked his head around Jeongguk’s frame, heat in his gaze but disapproval mixing with it. 

“Getting shit from the kitchen,” Jeongguk answered blandly, picking his nails. He tried to be nonchalant, but she caught him looking at her out of the corner of his eye. 

“Y/N, it’s really cold outside,” Seokjin narrowed his eyes at her bare legs, adjusting the collar of his black oxford shirt, a few of the buttons undone. 

“I know, that’s why my arms are covered,” retorted, gesturing to the long sleeves of the dress. “We won’t be outside for long, anyways, and it gets hot in those clubs.”

Seokjin was entirely unconvinced, watching Taehyung emerge from the coat closet, handing Y/N her longest, thickest coat, barely looking at her while she snickered at his selection. Shrugging it on, aware of all of the attention on herself– and for once, she enjoyed it thoroughly. 

“Alright! Got the champagne! Y/N darling, shall we?” Hoseok waltzed in from the kitchen looking all kinds of delicious, in a white suit and a blue silky shirt, a bottle of Moet in one of his hands, using a free one to hook around her elbow and tow her to the front door. “Don’t forget to lock up, wolf!”

Namjoon, waiting by the door, eyeing Y/N’s neck and the choker encircling it, jingled the keys to the house in his fist, and waited for everyone to follow her and Hoseok to the limo waiting outside before he locked up. 

Yoongi made it to her free side with a smirk on his face, Y/N admiring the way he styled his long hair. Hoseok was the first one inside of the limo while Yoongi held Y/N’s hand as she slid in herself, brushing a kiss on the back of it. 

“You look gorgeous,” Yoongi said proudly, sitting beside her, Y/N nudging him in the ribs with her elbow. “Gonna have to keep my eye on you tonight.”

Hoseok had brought their portable speaker, already jacking up the volume on a rap playlist, grinning wickedly as the rest of the hybrids climbed into the limo. Jeongguk had to pay particular attention to his antlers so he wouldn’t knock them against the ceiling, slouching low on the bench he was on. It was hard not to laugh at his grouchiness as he held onto a champagne flute with a fist, though his saving grace were the leather pants he did indeed put on, highlighting his muscular thighs. 

Last one into the limo was Namjoon, cramming himself in between Jeongguk and Seokjin, the latter of which was directly across from Y/N, his expression more feline than ever, Y/N squirming in her seat under the weight of his gaze. To distract herself, she turned to Hoseok, clinking her glass with his, the fox hybrid pinching her cheek happily. 

“Happy birthday Hoseok!” Y/N cheered, wrapping an arm around his shoulders for a brief side-hug, careful to not spill her drink on his crisp white sports jacket when the limo started to pull out of the driveway. 

Leaning into her playfully, Hoseok turned up the speaker even louder, Y/N enjoying watching her hybrids loosen up, champagne in hands, and looking forward to a new experience. With Seokjin looking at her like that, however, she didn’t know if she’d make it through the night without pushing him against a wall. 

Music pulsing from the speakers, Y/N already armed with a cocktail, she once again thought that the hefty price tag on the table she bought was worth it when she sunk into the cushy booth with satisfaction. The club, called “The Grand Boston”, was decorated lavishly, had an enormous bar, and was lit up brilliantly. Besides her own hybrids, several of which were ordering drinks at the bar, Y/N was surprised to see others milling around with their humans, which was relieving– not as many eyes on her and the fact that she had seven of them with her. 

“Wanna order a bottle? They have Casamigos, your favorite,” Y/N spoke loudly over the music to her fox hybrid, who was in the middle of taking a shot, his face screwing up as he shoved a lime between his teeth. 

“Nah, they jack up the prices, we can just get a few rounds of shots,” Hoseok replied after a moment, smirking at Jimin sliding into the booth, tumbler of whiskey in his hand. 

“I mean, we might as well get bottle service, Foxy. It’s your birthday and we have this table,” Y/N rolled her eyes, flagging down someone to order the liquor. 

“Oooh, pulling out all the stops for me?” Hoseok teased, flashing her a stunning smile, motioning for Seokjin to join them when the jaguar hybrid returned from the bar with his cocktail, and due to the warm temperature of the club, he had pulled another button loose on his shirt.

With more of his collar bones exposed, Y/N’s mouth involuntarily watered, and to cover it up she immediately poured herself a shot and downed it expertly. Somehow, she felt bad that she was having such thirsty thoughts about sweet Seokjin. Completely oblivious, he placed his arm around her shoulders, offering her a sip of the Moscow mule, angling the black straw to her lips. Then again, the spark in his eye as her lips wrapped around the straw told a different story, one that had the blood boiling in her veins. 

“Um, the others?” Y/N broke the trance she was in, addressing Jimin. She could see Jeongguk by the bar, forearms leaning against the counter, Namjoon beside him, both of them in deep conversation that probably surrounded their upcoming investigation on Monday. 

“They’re around. Don’t worry, Y/N, they won’t leave without you,” Jimin read her mind, knocking back his drink and watching people head towards the dance floor. 

“Alright. Plan is to get wasted and go dance,” Hoseok began lining up shots, Seokjin snorting beside her. “Don’t laugh at me on my birthday, Jinnie. Here. Cheers!”

Y/N watched, praying she wasn’t being creepy, as Seokjin sprinkled salt on the back of his hand, swiping his tongue over the skin, before he hastily took the shot of tequila with a wince, Y/N hurriedly handing him a lime to suck on. 

After a couple of rounds of shots, Y/N already feeling the liquor loosen her up and ready to dance, Yoongi joined them with his glass of Hennessy, refusing to touch the Casamigos. 

“I can’t do tequila, Foxy. Makes me sick to my fuckin’ stomach,” Yoongi frowned when Hoseok slid the shot glass towards him, Seokjin taking it instead. Jimin, at least, participated, his face getting redder by the minute with all the booze. 

“Come on, let’s dance,” Y/N stood, miraculously stable on her heels, hands extended for someone, anyone, to take them, and at once, Hoseok leapt to his feet, palm sliding into hers, motioning for Seokjin to take her free one. 

Seokjin got up, somehow handling all of the tequila incredibly well, Y/N giggling as her fox and jaguar hybrids began to lead her to the dance floor. 

“I’ll stay here and watch,” Yoongi’s sly expression ticked her off, giving her a once-over from behind his glass. Jimin was off to the bathroom and to refresh his whiskey, Y/N thinking it was likely his last round before he totally blacked out. 

Led by Hoseok, who had long since ditched his sports jacket, they weaved through the crowd, Y/N suddenly remembered Seokjin’s aversion to seas of people. Casting him a worried look over her shoulder, Seokjin mouthed ‘I’m fine’, the grip he had on her left hand tightening. She caught something out of the corner of her eye, an extremely sparkly dress a young woman was wearing. 

Trying to get a better look at the shimmering fabric, she paused– the woman was apparently flirting with someone, someone Y/N recognized immediately even if it was just the back of his head. Taehyung, who she hadn’t seen since they stopped by the coat check, was talking to a random girl, something that Y/N assumed the Kodiak hybrid would be way too shy to do. Mouth hanging open, drunken jealousy surging through her as she realized Taehyung could sense her presence via scent  and didn’t even turn to look at her, his shoulders shaking in laughter as he responded to something the woman said. Again, Seokjin squeezed her hand, spinning the two of them slightly so their backs were to Taehyung, Y/N grateful for Seokjin’s keen perceptivity and consideration. 

Facing Hoseok, who finally found a good place in the center of the club, far enough away from the speakers that would blow their eardrums out, Y/N shook away remaining jealousy and focused on the fox hybrid instead, who was doing some kind of silly dance to get her attention. The little number he was doing was in stark contrast to how sexy he looked, his sleeves rolled up over his elbows, eyes slightly lidded from the shots, ears drooping. 

“Let’s see what you two got,” Hoseok shouted over the music, and Y/N would have been hesitant if it weren’t for the tequila, but she found herself mirroring Hoseok’s swaying movements, a confident smile on his face. “Come on, Jinnie, weren’t you an acrobat? You must have some moves!”

Y/N shuddered when Seokjin’s chest was suddenly pressed to her back, simply holding her hips while she rolled them, her cheeks on fire while Hoseok cackled, clocking the fluster all over Y/N’s face. It was then, she decided fuck it, both presssing her hips backwards into Seokjin and pulling Hoseok to her by the collar of his shirt, winding her arms around his neck. Seokjin grunted deeply into her ear, his lips grazing the shell of it, while all smug attitude was knocked out of Hoseok in a blink. 

“Out of wisecracks? Dance with me,” Y/N challenged, something flashing dangerously in the fox hybrid’s eyes before his hands were on her waist, copying the movements she made, but careful not to collide his hips into hers. 

Ben always used to warn her to stay away from the tequila, as she tended to get frisky with a few shots of it coursing through her system, but she didn’t care that night. Not when Seokjin’s grip on her hips was firm, letting her essentially grind backwards into him, and Hoseok was looking at her differently for the first time, the way he moved graceful and precise. The world seemed to fall away into neon lights, hypnotic music, and the two hybrids that she was sandwiched between, Y/N really letting loose by letting her head loll back onto Seokjin’s chest, eyes slipping shut. She was too tipsy to be embarrassed about her behavior, and judging by the dark purrs from behind her and the mirth returning to her fox hybrid’s eyes, the two of them were freely enjoying themselves as well. 

“Wanna take another shot,” Y/N murmured after a while, pouting when Hoseok pulled away in favor of watching the light show, his tail swishing, though Seokjin still held her to his chest, his nose tucked into the base of her throat. 

“I think you’re good, pretty,” Seokjin replied, squeezing her hips and turning her around, his palms gliding up to cup her waist, the thin material of her dress doing nothing to hide her shape nor the way his touch burned her deliciously. “Don’t want to overdo it now, right?”

Y/N rolled her eyes, leaning up, stamping a kiss on his exposed collarbone in hopes that it would butter him up. His skin was dewy with sweat, Y/N wanting to eat him alive, but she released her hold of his wide shoulders so she could make her way back to the table, and further, the bottle. 

“Y/N,” Seokjin’s voice had a sharpened edge of warning to it, following closely behind, navigating through the tipsy crowd. Fortunately, she didn’t come across Taehyung and that girl, but when she remembered the interaction, it only strengthened her desire to hightail it to the table. 

“Judas priest, kiddo,” Jeongguk was lazily reclined in the booth, his feet kicked up on one of the tables like he owned the joint, eyes roaming over her flushed skin, mussed hair, and the scent of alcohol coming off of her like a bar floor. “That’s not a good idea–”

Before any of the hybrids could get to her, including Yoongi who lurched forward to snatch the shot glass away and Jimin’s noises of alarm, Y/N had already poured the shot down her throat, not even feeling the burn of the liquor, batting Yoongi’s hands away when he tried to take the glass. 

“Alright, sweetheart, that’s enough,” Yoongi scolded, pushing the bottle of tequila towards Jimin, who swiftly tucked it behind him with a worried look. “You’re going to be sick tomorrow.”

“So? I’m celebrating!” Y/N frowned, booping Yoongi’s nose. She wasn’t even slurring, for Christ’s sake, and she could still walk in her heels perfectly. “You’re all being worrywarts, I’m fine.”

“Why don’t you sit for a minute, I’ll have the server bring some snacks around,” Yoongi maneuvered Y/N into the booth, her grumbling the entire time, squirming next to Jeongguk. Seokjin went with Yoongi, both of them moving urgently. 

“Fussy babies,” Y/N muttered, scanning the room for Hoseok, Namjoon, and Taehyung, crossing her legs and massaging her sore ankles. “I can hold my liquor.”

“Sometimes,” Jeongguk replied sarcastically, barely looking up from his phone, his fingertips flying over the keyboard. “It’s almost 2 AM. We should go soon, before the club closes.”

“Aw, but did you even get to dance? How about you, Jimin?” Y/N lamented, Hoseok returning from the dance floor, sweat slicking up his forehead when he pushed his damp hair back, a swagger in his step. 

“Do I look like I dance, kiddo?” Jeongguk scoffed, draining his glass, setting his phone aside. “Time to head out, fox.”

“Yeah, the crowd is dwindling anyways. I’m ready to raid the fridge and pass out,” Hoseok grabbed his jacket that was slung over the booth, Jimin excusing himself to pay the tab and look for Taehyung. 

“We can have some of your birthday cake!” Y/N exclaimed, suddenly less disappointed about going home if it meant she could have something sugary. “Awh, where’s Joon bug? He’ll want some cake too, I wanna tell him!”

“12 ‘o clock, darling,” Hoseok pointed beyond her shoulder, Namjoon trudging back to the booth with his jean jacket pulled around him, Y/N’s coat in his hands. Surprisingly, he seemed like the most sober of the bunch, offering her her coat with purpose. 

“I talked to the driver outside, he’s ready when we are,” Namjoon announced, Y/N struggling to shrug her coat on while sitting down, Jeongguk clicking his tongue and helping her right arm through the sleeve. 

“What about Tae, though?” To her embarrassment, Y/N’s head began to feel like it was floating, that last shot definitely a mistake like Jeongguk had said, as much as she hated to admit it. Her tongue was heavy in her mouth, and she barely reacted when Yoongi dropped a bag of mini pretzels in her lap, stomach turning at the thought of chewing. 

“Already outside, Y/N. Can you walk?” Namjoon made a motion for the rest of the hybrids to start heading towards the door with authority, Seokjin kissing the top of her head before he made sure Hoseok was going in the right direction. 

“Yesss, I can walk, Joonie,” Y/N grouched, hauling herself to her feet, but unfortunately, her knees buckled. Cursing, Namjoon caught her swiftly before she could collapse on the floor, strong arms supporting her weight, Y/N limp. 

“That’s a no, then,” Namjoon sighed, bending his knees, slinging Y/N over his shoulder in one smooth movement. Y/N squealed, scrabbling for a hold on the back of his jacket and staring at the floor, thankfully not getting violently nauseous as her world was turned upside-down and the wolf hybrid started walking. “Thank god I’m here. I hope you didn’t party like this in college, Y/N, it’s dangerous.”

“I’m currently b-breathing, aren’t I, Joon? Put me down, I’m embarrassed,” Y/N whined, whacking his back with her palms. Namjoon, however, was known to be unyielding. He promptly ignored her complaints, her strikes against his muscled back useless and truthfully, pathetic. 

“I don’t know why you insisted on wearing those shoes. Your ankles are swelling,” Namjoon grunted, her heated face meeting some relief in the icy night air, the sounds of drunk clubgoers up and down the sidewalk. “You’re a handful, Y/N.”

“And you’re not, Namjoon?” Y/N squawked, astonished. However, Namjoon chuckled quietly, finally setting her down in front of the waiting limo, one broad palm on her lower back to help keep her upright while climbing in. 

“Never claimed I wasn’t,” Namjoon replied offhand, clambering in behind her, the rest of the boys in various states of intoxication and exhaustion. “Are there sick bags in here?” 

Namjoon was speaking to Yoongi, who was apparently the only one sober enough to have spatial awareness, even Jeongguk nodding off in the far end of the limo, the leopard hybrid waving a paper bag in front of Namjoon’s face. Jimin, Hoseok, and Seokjin were cracking open another bottle of champagne, while Taehyung was busy on his phone, presumably texting; Y/N dreaded to know exactly who. 

“I’m not going to get sick, dad,” Y/N poked Namjoon in the bicep, peeved, the wolf hybrid choking on the sip of water he had taken, his fist pounding on his chest to clear the liquid from his lungs. Not expecting that reaction, Y/N felt laughter bubbling up in her throat, poking him again before setting her sights on Yoongi.

“What’s with that look?” Yoongi asked suspiciously, Y/N biting her lip, clumsily pouncing on him, sitting on one of his thighs and giving him a sloppy smooch on his cheek. “Oh boy. No more Casamigos for you, ever.”

“Angel, my feet hurt,” Y/N’s vision was fuzzy, supported by Yoongi’s arm around her back, the leopard hybrid letting her bury her face in his shirt, breathing in his familiar sweet scent, his tail caressing her bare calves.

Without asking, Yoongi exhaled, gripping one of her ankles gingerly and unfastening the straps around them. Easing each shoe off her foot as carefully as he could, Yoongi placed them in between him and Taehyung, who paused his texting to assess the spectacle. The Kodiak hybrid’s eyes lingered on the way Yoongi was prodding lightly around her swelling ankles to release pressure, but when he caught Y/N staring back at him, he returned to his phone with his tongue in his cheek. 

Petulance took over, so instead of letting Taehyung’s iciness bother her, she focused on Yoongi’s touch, sighing blissfully, his talented hands kneading into her sore muscles, purring softly behind her. She was half asleep when something dawned on her, shooting straight up from Yoongi’s lap with an exclamation, looking around frantically for her clutch. 

“Looking for this?” Namjoon held it up, his eyebrows raised, sucking in his cheeks. 

Making grabby hands for it, Y/N thanked him quietly for keeping an eye on all of her things, before she clumsily maneuvered to the back of the limo where Hoseok was. Jeongguk was still drowsily trying to stay awake, his head bobbing, but Jimin had passed out finally. Hoseok and Seokjin switched to water, luckily, so when she took a seat beside her fox hybrid, he was a touch more sober than he was 15 minutes prior.

“How are you doing, darling?” Hoseok’s face was rounded out in sleep, content all over it.

“I forgot to give you this,” Y/N began digging around in her clutch, Hoseok sitting up a bit straighter and making a strange, fox-like noise in the back of his throat. “Seokjinnie got you something, remember, Jin?”

Seokjin had also apparently forgotten, blinking harshly. Finding the item at the bottom of the clutch, a tiny rectangular box, she opened it, handing Hoseok a silver bracelet, the chain link the exact same as the one Seokjin had on his ring. Seokjin had the adorable idea of getting them something that matched in some way, and Y/N had no problems letting the jaguar hybrid pick it out. 

Hoseok was at a loss, holding the bracelet with his mouth open, Y/N stifling a laugh at his reaction. Seokjin shifted in his seat across from them, amused but also vulnerable. 

“Jinnie, is this like a friendship bracelet?” Hoseok deadpanned, radiant joy coming off of him. 

“Uh-huh. Happy birthday,” Seokjin broke out in a grin, Y/N’s heart warm with how sweet their close friendship was, Hoseok demanding the jaguar hybrid to clasp it around his wrist. “You two mean a lot to me.”

“Aw, Jinnie, you’re like my big brother,” Hoseok cooed, Seokjin rolling his eyes, but Y/N knew how profound those words were to Hoseok. The fox hybrid spent years in many places, never able to put down roots, much less make close friendships. “And you’re my little darling.”

Hoseok grabbed both of them, smushing themselves together for a group hug, Y/N finally releasing a hearty laugh that startled Jimin awake beside her, knowing that the tears slipping down her cheeks were tears of happiness.

After a brutal Sunday of recovering from the tequila binge, Y/N spending most of the day laying on the couch and watching reality TV with greasy pizza, she was well again on Monday, the day of the investigation. She had to drag Jeongguk to work with her that day, Namjoon of course itching to go without complaint. It was nice to have the two of them with her while she stocked inventory, Namjoon able to reach higher shelves and Jeongguk sorting through the Christian medallions in a way that made sense. While those two were more quiet than, say, Hoseok, there was still amiable conversation here and there. Y/N had a feeling Jeongguk, in particular, was gearing up for later that evening, gazing out the shop window every once in a while to stare at the van. 

“Our plan is solid. I’ll handle the cameras, Namjoon is on the audio recording devices, and Y/N, I’m going to give you the EMF detector and communication devices, since you’re adept with sensing energies,” Jeongguk assured her and Namjoon, the sun beginning to go down as the three of them brought equipment into the Sanders’ home. 

The family had left for the hotel that morning, and would be staying there until Y/N and the two hybrids could successfully banish the entity. The house was cold, and eerily quiet, and Y/N was grateful that she had black tourmaline necklaces for the three of them as an added layer of protection. While she was somewhat anxious about the investigation, there was immense comfort in having Namjoon and Jeongguk with her. Namjoon was protective, which became clearer to her by the day, and Jeongguk was nearly fearless. 

“How long do you think the investigation will last?” Y/N questioned, wondering if it would be anything like what she had seen on television. 

“However long it takes for us to get enough evidence,” Jeongguk shrugged, on his knees and setting up a tripod facing the hallway, where Erika mentioned seeing a shadow figure several times. 

“Good thing we brought the Red Bull,” Y/N joked, placing a few clear quartz crystals around the living room, Namjoon on the couch with her laptop booting up the software they’d need for audio recording and reviewing footage. “You’re gonna teach me how to use these devices, right, sweets?”

“Obviously,” Jeongguk snorted, attaching one of the cameras to the tripod. “It’s straightforward though, not many buttons to press. Then you can ask your questions you wrote down. Namjoon will be right beside you, recording audio.”

Jeongguk, dressed in all black, pushed up the sleeves of his sweater, revealing those tattoos that Y/N never fully got a good look at. While he was prickly about explaining everything to Y/N, he did it thoroughly, and it was interesting to watch the elk hybrid drop into total concentration on a particular task. Y/N decided to take a walk through the small house, not sensing much on the first floor other than that odd feeling of being watched through the living room window. It was when she climbed the stairs to the three bedrooms where there was a chill rolling down her spine. 

The master bedroom, where Erika slept– and her son, too, when he had his nightmares, had a sadness, a tense anxious feel to it. Putting selenite on all of the window sills, she stopped when she saw a photo sitting on Erika’s nightstand. It was the young mother, looking vibrant and happy in comparison to how nervous she was when Y/N met her. The young boy, too, was grinning without purplish circles under his eyes. Most noticeably different was the daughter, Julie, who was a few years younger and not wearing the gothic garb she had during their initial consultation. Sighing, she hoped that the family could be at ease again once her and the boys helped them.

Moving down the hall, hands coming up to rub her shivering arms, she peeked into the boy’s bedroom, nearly choking at the heaviness of the energy in there. Y/N refused to go in there without one of her hybrids with her. Nauseous, she tentatively made her way to the final bedroom, Julie’s. 

The room was painted pink, but most of the walls were covered in pop punk posters. As for the energy, it was different from the solid wall of darkness in Tommy’s room, but it still made her feel sick and again, like someone was watching her. Visually sweeping the room as Jeongguk suggested, looking for any occultish items such as a Ouija board, but not actively going through the teenager’s stuff. 

She didn’t see anything out of the ordinary, but she stiffened when an ice-cold draft filled the room, penetrating her body in a way that had her skin crawling. Dread filled her, resentment, and anger. Panicking, turning every which way to see if she could spot something physically manifesting, the thump-thump-thump against the walls returning. Whimpering, she sped out of the room, chest heaving, thundering down the stairs and startling Jeongguk, who was placing special lights around in the hallway. 

Y/N smacked directly into his chest, quaking, clinging to his sweater for dear life and desperate to get rid of that supernatural coldness that pierced through her. Jeongguk grunted, letting her hide from the world in his sweater, his heart hammering steadily beneath her. 

“What the fuck happened, are you okay?” Jeongguk’s hands were hesitant when he patted her on the back, but there was a clear alarm in his voice.

 Namjoon’s clumsy, heavy tread was immediately thudding down the hall with urgency, Y/N releasing Jeongguk with embarrassment. Her reaction to that phenomena wasn’t exactly a great start to their investigation, establishing zero dominance over the entity, but she still couldn’t stop shaking. While Jeongguk was alarmed, Namjoon was calm, hands on her shoulders so he could duck his head and make eye-contact. 

“Take a few deep breaths, Y/N,” Namjoon’s eyebrows were pinched, squeezing her shoulders comfortingly. “That’s it.”

After a couple of lungfuls of air, she was able to stop shaking underneath Namjoon’s palms, the wolf hybrid letting her go as soon as she calmed down. Both of them were waiting expectantly for her to relay what had happened, and Y/N felt like the presence was at the top of the stairs and watching them. 

“I think we should focus on the second floor,” Y/N said weakly, Namjoon’s orange honey eyes shifting from her face to the stairs, his blank expression giving nothing away. If anything, it was nice to have the both of them there, confident and collected. “Especially in the children’s bedrooms. I didn’t go into the boy’s bedroom, the energy was too thick and without one of you–” I was too scared. “Something manifested in the teenager’s room, like an ice-cold draft that ran right through me. Then the knocking on the walls started up again.”

Jeongguk leaned a hip against the banister, making intense eye-contact with Y/N, like he was attempting to soak in every word with grave seriousness. Sucking his lip ring into his mouth, making an animalistic grunt, and with a nod, he agreed. 

“So our key spots. The kid’s bedrooms, the window in the living room, and this hallway,” Jeongguk confirmed. “I’ll go upstairs and set up more equipment. Now that you have more of an idea of what the energy feels like up there, you should write down some more questions to ask later. You’ll be alright, center yourself.”

“Okay,” Y/N agreed, hoping she wasn’t being the weakest link. “You’re going to go up by yourself?”

“Don’t worry about me,” Jeongguk had said that before, but him saying that did absolutely nothing to prevent her from worrying anyway. “Let’s just finish setting up, and we’ll start recording when it’s dark out.”

She followed Namjoon like a lost duckling back into the living room, Y/N sitting beside him on the couch while he continued to boot up his software. Taking a moment, she centered herself, eyes shut, focusing on breathing and her connection to the Earth. 

“Remember why we’re here,” Namjoon said softly when she opened her eyes again, most of her fear and anxiety dissolving after centering. 

“For the family,” Y/N finished for him, Namjoon giving her knee a soft squeeze, his bitten ear flickering. 

“Do the lights really have to be off? Y/N doesn’t have night vision,” Namjoon asked a quarter after midnight, all of his audio equipment prepped and ready, including his tapes on the coffee table– their “base”. 

“I mean, if you want to be able to see anything on these full-spectrum cameras,” Jeongguk replied, promptly switching off the last lamp that offered Y/N vision in the house. “You’re not afraid of the dark, are you kiddo?”

“If you have time to be an ass, you have time to get to work,” Y/N hissed, brushing by him with the device she had just learned how to use in her hand. That particular device, a “Spirit Box”, would fill the room with white noise, and somehow capture voices they couldn’t hear if the spirits responded to Y/N’s questions. 

While she did that in front of a camera set up in front of the living room window, Jeongguk was using his handheld camcorder, taking temperatures around all of the spots in the house. Thankfully, Namjoon would stay with her, helping her make out any sounds or words they could potentially capture. Clearing her throat, she sat on the chair beneath the window, Namjoon just a few feet away on the couch, the low light of the laptop illuminating his face and making his eyes glow. 

“I’m gonna take the temperatures upstairs,” Jeongguk’s voice was far away, probably already halfway to his destination, Y/N exhaling slowly as Namjoon gave her a thumbs-up; he had begun recording. She had already memorized her list of basic questions, so she switched the Spirit Box on, cringing at the gnashing sound echoing around the house. 

“Is there anyone here that wishes to speak with us?” Y/N began, feeling a little foolish, but pushing down the feeling swiftly. All she heard in response was the white noise, unfortunately. 

“What is your name?”

Nothing. 

“How old are you?”

Nothing, again. 

“Why are you here?”

Then, there was a disruption in the static, something garbly coming through, Y/N’s eyes lighting up as Namjoon began typing on the laptop. 

“How many spirits are on this property? Are you alone?”

Growing a little excited, now understanding why Jeongguk was so into these devices, the static was interrupted once more, a frightening but unintelligible response captured through the Spirit Box. 

“Who lives here?”

Before Y/N could get too riled up, the rest of her questions received no response, so she and Namjoon elected to move into the hall, trading places with Jeongguk, who was taking pictures of the window and using thermal imaging on the area. 

It continued like that for about two more hours, repeating the interview with Namjoon multiple times with the Spirit Box and the EMF detector, the wolf hybrid letting her hold his hand when they were in Tommy’s room. The sounds of the voice that did come through in that space were particularly bone-chilling and grating. The last room, Julie’s room, only yielded one response that was reedy and low, Y/N ready to get the fuck out of dodge as soon as the interview concluded. 

Reconvening downstairs, Jeongguk was starting to pack up equipment, and thankfully, he turned on a light or two. He looked charged, like new life was breathed into him. Investigations such as that one must have been his life’s passion, because Y/N hadn’t seen him like that, well, ever. Her and Namjoon were silent as they helped the elk hybrid gather everything up, and while Namjoon seemed calm, she could tell he was on edge due to some of the audio they captured together. 

“Get anything?” Jeongguk pushed the last box of cameras into Namjoon’s van, Y/N wilting with exhaustion and nerves, watching her wolf hybrid lock the front door of the Sanders’ house with stiff shoulders, tape recorder under his arm. “We’ll review everything, but I’m pretty sure I captured some anomalies.”

“We had a few responses. Namjoon said he’d put the audio in a program music producers use to try and clarify what we were able to catch. There is definitely more than one entity we’re working with here,” Y/N ran a hand through her hair tiredly. 

“Hmm, you’re right,” Jeongguk let her get into the van first, Y/N buckling herself into the passenger seat, thanking the sky she had the next day off. It was nearly five in the morning, and her eyes were crossing. “You did well, Y/N.”

“You too, sweets. You were in your element, huh?” 

“I guess,” Jeongguk sobered up, toning down his excitement, Namjoon getting into the driver’s seat heavily, passing a hand over his face. 

“Let’s get out of here, I’m drained,” Namjoon pulled out of the driveway, Y/N’s teeth unclenching when he switched on some folksy music and they got away from the house. 

“You two are going to need to take some baths when we get back, right away. With that salt I gave you, I don’t want the risk of anything clinging to us,” Y/N leaned her head back, hearing Jeongguk still tinkering away with an electronic in the back of the van. 

Namjoon hummed, too tired to respond, but she knew he’d listen to her. Once she explained the importance of making sure they were all properly spiritually cleansed, he hadn’t had a single complaint obeying her requests to take salt baths or enduring Y/N waving rosemary smoke around him. Jeongguk, on the other hand, was a toss up. 

All Y/N knew was that she wasn’t exactly eager to find out what the entities were saying to her. Judging by the nastiness of some of the voices they captured, she doubted it was anything friendly. Namjoon said he’d take care of the audio over the course of the week, and Jeongguk was going to comb through his videos, data, and photos as well. All Y/N had to do was sit with the energies she felt and perhaps come up with some kind of plan for cleansings and banishment. Trying to find the moon in the sky, Y/N counted street lights until they were back at their own home, and there was a collective breath of relief from the three of them when they were safe inside. 

Before she knew it, it was the end of the week, the day she and Seokjin planned their date. Y/N had come up with something special to do with him during the evening, and she knew they weren’t going to be bothered, she made sure of it. With Namjoon and Jeongguk holed up in the van poring over their evidence still; Taehyung, Yoongi, and Hoseok at the rec center for their clubs, and Jimin outside putting the garden beds together on the finally-thawing ground, they were pretty much by themselves. She was in Seokjin’s bedroom, the lamps dimmed low, and her jaguar hybrid was somewhere in the kitchen, claiming he was making something for them to snack on. Y/N didn’t tell Seokjin what her plan was for them, wanting a nice surprise, so as quickly as she could, she dumped the materials she needed on his neatly made bed. 

There was an old white topsheet she found in the depths of one of the linen closets, Y/N shaking it out and tying it to tops of the front two bedposts. The fabric fell, making a large “screen” at the foot of the bed, and with that done in a pinch, she hooked up the mini projector she got on Amazon and stuck it on the shelf behind Seokjin’s headboard. 

A cozy, quiet movie night was something she thought Seokjin would enjoy. Meaning to watch Lord of the Rings with him, she had the boxed CD set ready to go, even if they’d probably only get through one of the movies due to the length. Satisfied, she sped into his bathroom, changing into her pajamas– a pair of cotton shorts and a matching tank top. It was likely she’d end up sleeping next to Seokjin that night, so she decided she might as well get comfortable. She was tossing her clothes in his hamper when the sounds of the jaguar hybrid shuffling into his bedroom filled her ears, Y/N smiling at her reflection in his mirror and going out to meet him. 

Seokjin, with a curious flicker to his ear, was staring at the sheet she hung, setting a tray down with various snacks and drinks, and of course, a few slabs of the bread he baked that morning. Skipping to his side, Seokjin whirled around, cheeks coloring with how little clothing she was wearing. Seokjin wasn’t a fan of the cold, so his room was always boiling with space heaters going, so she wasn’t about to wear flannel pajamas. 

“Pretty, why’d you tie that sheet there?” Seokjin cleared his throat, adjusting his thin tee-shirt by the collar, averting his eyes. 

“So we could watch a movie together, I got a projector online. Do you like the sound of that?” Y/N asked, a touch self consciously, sitting on his bed and looking at the tray he brought up. With a pounding heart, she realized most of the snacks he prepared were her favorites. 

“Yeah, it’s perfect,” Seokjin insisted, knees landing on the bed softly, fluffing his pillows and moving the stuffed alpaca aside so he could sit against the headboard. “What do you wanna watch?”

“Well, all those months ago, I mentioned wanting to watch Lord of the Rings with you. How about that?”

Seokjin, his bright eyes widening, replayed the memory in his head– when he was recovering from his fever, the day Y/N adopted him, she had lent him that book. He was nodding at once, watching Y/N grin and get on all fours, sliding a disc into the projector, adjusting the volume. He didn’t know if she felt how charged the air felt, tucking her hair behind her ear as she navigated the movie’s menu, his eyes skimming over her figure indulgently. The beginning credits began to roll, the projector displaying the title card of the film pretty well, Seokjin realizing that was why Y/N had dimmed the lights so low. 

Y/N got comfortable beside Seokjin at once, curling into his side and tucking herself under his arm, one of hers thrown across his waist. Reminded of a kitten getting cozy in her bed, Seokjin purred, fingertips dancing along her upper arm, the skin like warm silk. 

“I… never asked you this, but when I gave you this book, you seemed emotional. Can I ask you why, honey?” Y/N was thoroughly enjoying Seokjin stroking her arm with reverence, his chin resting on top of her head. 

“Oh, I suppose that was kind of odd to you at the time,” Seokjin replied, focusing more on her than the movie in the background. Movies never really compared to books, anyways. “It’s just something that I remember… a young kid I grew up with telling me about. You know I’m not a big adventurer, but reading about it, seeing it, I’m comfortable with. Nostalgia sometimes gets to me, that’s all.”

“That’s why you’re so sweet,” Y/N hummed, her breath fanning over his neck, Seokjin giggling at her words. “I felt so bad that day, I didn’t wanna make you cry.”

“You didn’t, you just reminded me that sometimes the world is smaller than I think it is,” Seokjin’s touch migrated to her shoulders, lowly hissing at the tightness in the muscles, Y/N wincing when he pressed over them. “Come here.”

Seokjin cupped her waist, spreading his legs carefully, before rolling her over so she was seated between his thighs, back pressed to his chest. Y/N went stiff, the opposite of what he was trying to do, so he gave her a reassuring, chaste kiss to the crown of her head, pressing his thumbs into the tender sides of her neck. Shuddering when Seokjin dug the digits into two knots that have been giving her grief the entire week, she went limp immediately, not knowing where to put her own hands– settling them idly on her lap. 

“You’re tense, let me help you,” Seokjin murmured, Y/N surrounded by his eucalyptus scent, and having him care for her was better than any spa treatment. “You’ve been working too hard, pretty.”

“Uh-uh,” Y/N protested, melting backwards, the sturdiness of his chest actually quite surprising. “Not true– oh.”

Seokjin hit a particularly tender spot, her tight trapezius muscle, and he was seemingly chuckling as he massaged the flesh sensually. He didn’t make a smart retort, even though he could have, but instead he focused on working out every single kink in her neck. 

“How did you get so good at this?” Y/N was choking back moans, at that point, barely paying attention to the movie, her temperature rising in the toasty bedroom. 

“Well, when I was a performer, I’d have to tend to my own knots and strains,” Seokjin responded, sweeping her hair aside so he could press on either side of her upper spine, Y/N involuntarily arching away from him with a strained whine– one that had heat rising to his cheeks, shamefully. “Guess the skill is finally coming in handy.”

“Seokjin,” Y/N breathed, and the jaguar hybrid thought he heard a slight edge of warning to it, like she was accusing him of being cheeky. After so long, he couldn’t help it. 

A few moments went by mostly in silence– apart from the movie’s dialogue and score, and a tiny yelp from Y/N once or twice. Seokjin, even though he couldn’t stand feeling cold, was truthfully getting warm himself, Y/N so pliant in front of him, her hands subconsciously finding purchase on his knees as he worked her back. 

“B-baby, I think I’m g-good, uh–” Y/N’s breathing became labored, heat striking through her as he continued the massage under her shoulder blades. “Oh fuck.”

Apparently a very sore spot, Seokjin dug his fingers into her skin with more intensity, and embarrassingly so, Y/N let out a thin, pleading whine, Seokjin’s spine going rigid at the sound. 

“Does it feel good?” Seokjin asked, his voice becoming siren-like again, moving to the other shoulder blade and eliciting a similar sound from her. 

“W-what do you think?” Y/N was out of oxygen, two seconds away from pinning him to the headboard, Seokjin’s laughter rumbly and deep. “I don’t know if I want you to stop or to–”

Y/N was shamefully turned on at that point. It was hard not to be, she thought, between his proximity and his hands working her into a boneless puddle. Still chuckling, Seokjin removed one of his hands, reaching for the tray on the bed, plucking a strawberry from the bowl and offering it to Y/N, fingers poised before her lips. 

Instead of eating it, Y/N looked over her shoulder, face flushed and pupils blown out, an accusatory expression lighting up her features. 

“You didn’t mention you’re some sort of Casanova,” Y/N mumbled, overwhelmed by that romantic side of her jaguar hybrid, his ears fluttering playfully. Instead of feeding her, Seokjin ate the strawberry himself, the cool juices of the fruit spilling over his chin and down his neck, Y/N’s sight zeroing in on that visual. “Jesus Christ.”

“What’s wrong?” Seokjin teased once he swallowed the fruit, forcibly turning her back around so he could continue the massage, Y/N freezing when he not only laid his palms on her shoulders again, but his lips pressed a kiss to the top of her spine tenderly, his lips soothing her feverish flesh from the cold fruit he ate.

“Are you aware of how gorgeous you are, Seokjin? It’s borderline disturbingly wrong,” Y/N grouched, squeezing his knees, Seokjin freezing behind her before cracking up into hysterics, arms winding around her middle tightly, sponging kisses along her shoulders in between laughter. “You’re literally a doll!”

Despite his laughter, Y/N could feel his heart speeding up with her words, chest still flush with her back, and she debated whether or not to shut the movie off and just straddle him at that point. Suddenly aware that her panties were starting to get a bit damp, Y/N cursed herself inwardly, not believing how little it took to turn her on. She wondered if the jaguar hybrid could smell it, his sleek black tail laying heavily on one of her bare thighs. Boldly, while Seokjin kneaded her flesh again, she traced her fingers over the silky fur of his tail out of curiosity, Seokjin whimpering behind her, movements freezing. 

The atmosphere shifted instantly. She hadn’t gone as far as to touch Yoongi’s tail yet, but with Seokjin’s right in front of her, it was hard to resist stroking through the fur. In consequence, Seokjin’s fingers danced over the straps of her tank top, running his index fingers along the lace. 

“Can I… move these just a bit?” Seokjin fiddled with the material, Y/N nodding straight away, hurrying up the process by sliding one of the straps around her bicep, eager for him to tend to her aching shoulders, craving his touch. With a soft intake of air, Seokjin copied her movements on the other side, one hand gliding over the entirety of her exposed upper back, seemingly feeling for more points of tension. 

Still stroking through the fur of his tail, her other hand gripping his quilt with pale knuckles, Y/N bit down on her lip when Seokjin rolled his knuckles against her tender skin. Betting every last dollar in her bank account that neither of them gave a single shit what was happening in the movie still playing in front of them, Seokjin used one hand to grab the tray of food on the bed and move it to one of his nightstands distractedly, bending his knees so his feet were flat against the quilt and he could better cage Y/N in. 

However, with Seokjin’s movements, Y/N scooching up on the bed to press closer to him, her tank top straps fell to the crooks of her elbows, her eyes shooting wide open as the garment bunched around her waist– and she was not wearing a bra in that moment. 

There was a pause, Seokjin’s broad body crooking over hers from behind, where nothing was audible but sounds from the movie. Seokjin was staring at the entirety of her bare back, also realizing she wasn’t wearing anything under her tank top, but he was unable to help himself by gliding his hands from the small of her waist up to her mid-back. The action was smooth, Y/N’s skin somewhat slick with perspiration, Seokjin’s mouth watering. He always considered himself a man of patience, but there was something primal brewing within him, something that was difficult to control. 

“Y/N,” Seokjin’s voice was but a breeze in the wind, experimentally digging his fingertips into the base of her spine, relishing in the thready moan she offered to him, one of her forearms pressed over her breasts to preserve her modesty– Seokjin could smell both her arousal and bashfulness filling up the room thickly. “Are you alright?’”

“Keep touching me,” was all Y/N responded with, leaning backwards and removing her arm from her chest, Seokjin focusing straight ahead at the movie blindly. 

“How so, pretty girl?” Seokjin groaned, wrecked, his nose tucked into the base of her throat, not moving until she vocalized. 

“All over, anywhere,” Y/N whimpered, gasping when Seokjin’s hands snaked around her middle, skimming over her tummy, the jaguar hybrid’s resolve finally dissolving, his lips latching around the junction of her neck and shoulder. “Honey…”

Sucking her flesh into his mouth sensually, Seokjin felt blood rushing to his crotch, the taste of her skin so addicting, he swore he was high. It was the taste of her, yes, that was causing him to descend into a lust-driven frenzy, but also the scent of her love, the scent of her arousal, that was egging him on. Still, the human side of his brain begged him to see through the fog. 

“You’re sure?”

“Fuck, yes, Jin, please,” Y/N had annoyance dripping in her tone, one of her palms covering his on her abdomen, guiding it up to her sternum. “Love you, and I want you.”

A switch flipped within Seokjin, one he didn’t know existed, and he stroked the naked sides of her waist with hunger, resuming his task of decorating the slope of her neck with love bites, a strangled noise leaving his throat when Y/N shifted her hips backwards; flush to his. 

He was reminded of the previous weekend, Y/N in that dress, grinding into him with carefree abandon– and how he needed to excuse himself to the bathroom before they left to stick his face under the icy tap. He felt perverted, out of control– but a distant, animalistic side of him was saying “she’s the one, the only one” which was enough for him to want to stake his claim. 

Seokjin grasped the material of her tank top pooling around her waist, pulling it over her head with care. Once Y/N was free, she keened at the feeling of Seokjin suckling a bruise beneath her earlobe, his hardness pressing up against her ass, the sensation drenching her underwear thoroughly and anticipation climbing to Everest. 

Silently, Seokjin nipped the shell of her ear with his sharpened teeth, and before Y/N could fully process that, he was cradling her chest, the weight of her tits in his palms having him groaning and pressing his hips against her ass even more firmly. He had never been so turned on in his life, Y/N totally caged in his embrace, wanting and receptive to everything he had to offer her. This, this, was everything he was waiting to feel his entire life, and he could hardly think straight– Y/N semi-consciously whacking the projector, muting the movie miraculously in favor of hearing the noises Seokjin could make. 

Seokjin, caught in a spell, hooked his chin over Y/N’s shoulder, not caring that his back was aching from the prolonged arch, her breasts still cupped in his hands. Experimentally, he pressed them together, finally peering at her exposed chest, his throat rather dry at the sight as he soaked in both her heaving into his grasp, and the marks he had left on the side of her throat and shoulder. Skin lighting up with heat, one of her hands flailed backwards, clawing at Seokjin’s hip– now aware that he was very much completely clothed, all Y/N wanted was his bare skin against hers. 

“Easy, kitten,” Seokjin ground out, her fingernails cutting into his flesh even through the material of his sweatpants, Y/N hardly recognizing his hypnotic voice as it reached her ears centimeters away, and what he called her having her lax in his grip like prey. 

Her tits still in his palms, lips heavy on her neck, Y/N was about to melt into his mattress completely– breath stolen from her lungs when the jaguar hybrid teasingly swiped his thumbs over her nipples, erect with all of the slow teasing, the sensation sharp and having her jolt in the cage– made out of his limbs– he had trapped her in. 

“Tease,” Y/N managed due to the way his forefinger and thumb tweaked the buds, Y/N nearly passing out as he promptly slicked up the fingers of his right hand by sticking them in his mouth. “Jin–”

“Shush,” Seokjin returned, using his dampened digits to roll her right nipple between them, completely entranced. At that point, he felt himself leaking somewhat into his boxers, toying with Y/N’s chest until she was a mess in his lap, peering over her shoulder to see how her body reacted to his touch. “If you let me, I’ll make you feel good. But I want you to listen to me, is that okay?”

Y/N nodded desperately, but it wasn’t enough of a confirmation for Seokjin. 

“Mmm-hmm! Yes, Seokjin, I-I– hnngh,” Y/N yelped when he kneaded the sensitive flesh of her breasts again. 

“Okay then, lean on me,” Seokjin sucked yet another bruise into the side of Y/N’s throat, enjoying working her up. “You– mmph–”

Y/N had turned her head, seeking out his mouth, eagerly slotting her lips against his with desperation. His arms automatically wrapped around her again, one forearm slung low on her writhing hips, the other barred across her chest, letting her kiss him with abandon. She had wanted to kiss him like that for weeks, swiping her tongue along the seam of his mouth, Seokjin’s lips parting slightly and granting her access. A deep, indulgent moan came from her as she tasted him, sweet like the strawberry he just ate, still clawing at his clothed hips when her tongue slid against his. In return, Seokjin hummed, kissing her back just as freely, letting her take control for a moment. Though, while she was distracted, Seokjin began to fiddle with the waistband of her pajama shorts, a grunt tearing through him when she jerked her hips backwards. 

Breaking away from their kiss, Seokjin was transfixed, Y/N attempting to keep her control by going for his neck, even though the twisted position of her body was uncomfortable. Lapping at the sticky trail of strawberry juice along his Adam's apple, Seokjin shuddered at the feeling, her teeth scraping against his throat before she sunk them in, which had his eyes rolling back into his skull. 

Taking matters into her own hands, Y/N managed to wiggle out of her shorts, a hand breaking away from Seokjin’s hips, tossing them carelessly off the bed. The jaguar hybrid, sounding utterly fucked out already, tipped his head back and moaned when her ass collided with his lap again. At that point, with the scent of her wetness becoming so concentrated, Seokjin snapped, growling, dangerously, Y/N blinking up at him at once. 

“Face forward and watch the movie, pretty,” Seokjin ordered, Y/N’s head spinning. If he didn’t want to continue, that was fine, but she was pretty much naked and she wasn’t about to watch Hobbits traipse through the mud like that. However, that wasn’t the case, Seokjin hooking his chin over her kiss-bitten shoulder, fingertips dipping into the waistband of her panties. “Oh. Did you wear these for me?”

Looking down, confused and still driven crazy by lust, Y/N’s mouth dropped open. Subconsciously, she must have picked out the pink pair of panties Seokjin was teasing her with when they were folding laundry, the gusset of the fabric completely soaked. Lolling her head back against his chest, she looked at him pleadingly, the feeling of him tracing her hip bones driving her insane. 

“Aw, poor thing,” Seokjin cooed, kissing her temple with a derisive smirk. “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you.”

With that, Seokjin stripped her of her panties in a flash, stuffing the garment into the pocket of his sweatpants, Y/N mewling, turned on by the fact that she was completely bare before him, and he hadn’t shed a single article of clothing. Without wasting too much time, his mouth on her neck again, Seokjin grabbed a hold onto her thighs and propped them up, his breath quickening at the fresh wave of her arousal that surrounded him. Again, Y/N grappled for his tail, just about the only thing she could do wrapped up in his arms like that, cunt clenching around nothing when he moaned hollowly, the appendage curling around her wrist. 

Finally, Seokjin ghosted his fingers over where she needed him most, cursing at the wetness that gathered there abundantly, Y/N’s hips bucking over his lap with a cry. Cunt pulsing with his touch, Seokjin bit his lip, parting her dewy folds, the slick sound making Y/N cringe. He didn’t want to tease her too much, she was practically dripping onto his quilt, free hand coming up to pinch a nipple as his index finger made a slow circle around her clit simultaneously. 

The action elicited a great reward. Y/N’s spine arched, crying out his name, more wetness gushing out of her. Cooing again, Seokjin kept circling the sweet spot, loving the sounds she made for him, hardly noticing she was scraping her nails against his sensitive tail. 

“So wet, kitten,” Seokjin purred, slowly working her up, Y/N’s gut tightening at his dulcet tone, hardly here nor there. 

“Feels so good,” Y/N thrashed, stomach flipping over when the movement had his cock pressed right against the seam of her ass. “Ah!” 

Seokjin groaned, ignoring his own pleasure in favor of finding her’s, testing the waters by teasing a fingertip around her fluttering entrance. Hearing her pleas, he sunk the digit into her, whimpering at the way she clamped down on him. Y/N rocked her hips, essentially riding his finger, the visual erotic and making him hiss darkly. 

“That’s it, pretty girl,” Seokjin encouraged, gripping the side of her waist to aid her desperate movements. “Use me.”

Helping her out, he began to snap his wrist against her, curling his finger and pressing against the front of her walls, Y/N swore she could have died, so crammed full of desire for the jaguar hybrid it was driving her insane. 

“M-more, please,” Y/N begged, grinding against his hand, leaking all over him. 

“Spoiled little girl,” Seokjin taunted, but despite the jab, he added another digit into the mix while she rode his fingers, his thumb toying with her clit as she felt herself barreling towards her orgasm. “Gonna need to stretch you out, anyways, kitten.”

Gasping, his dirty words was all she needed, her sudden orgasm taking Seokjin by surprise as she wailed in his arms, walls spasming around his fingers as he continued to fuck them into her. The lewd sounds of her wetness had his ears ringing, wanting to taste the mess she made, but he murmured sweet nothings in her ear as she tore through her orgasm instead. 

Y/N, panting, grasped his wrist to halt his movements, oversensitive but somehow still needy for him, Seokjin releasing his hold on her and allowing her to turn, climbing over his lap to straddle him with a ravenous look on her face. Seokjin simply stared back, smirking, bringing his slicked-up fingers to his mouth, dutifully cleaning them off and trying not to cum in his pants at the taste of her. To his surprise, a startled moan leaving his lips, Y/N rocked her hips over the hardness beneath his sweatpants, her hands tangled in his shirt. 

“Uh, oh, still need more?” Seokjin teased, hands landing on her ass and kneading the flesh, helping her grind against him. “You really are spoiled, aren’t you?”

Y/N had no response but to kiss him, whimpering when his tongue tangled with hers, Y/N sensing that he was slowly beginning to unravel. She wanted nothing more than for him to lose his patience and fuck her senseless, feeling her pussy throbbing over the bulge in his pants. She broke away to mouth down his neck, and when she felt him shiver when she grazed over a particular spot, she sucked a bruise into the flesh, Seokjin’s hips grinding up harshly into her heat. 

“Take this off,” Y/N whined, yanking at his flimsy tee shirt, fed up with being the only one naked. Seokjin obliged, letting her strip the article off of him while they continued to rub against one another, sweat dripping from his hairline. “God, you’re so fucking sexy…”

Y/N gaped at the sight in front of her, not expecting Seokjin to be… well, ripped. She had seen his chest before, when she mended the wound on his side, but she was hardly gawking at his solid abs when she was doing so. Hands instantly shooting out to glide along his skin, his muscles rippling under her touch, the jaguar hybrid was panting while she gyrated her hips on his cock. 

“No, you,” Seokjin managed, smiling at her despite the situation they were in, Y/N kissing over his prominent clavicles tenderly. “Fuck, pretty girl!”

Y/N moved off of his hips, gawking at the wet patch she left over his gray sweatpants with distant humiliation, making brief eye-contact to ask if she could divest the garment from him. He nodded eagerly, so wound up he could think of nothing else but the scent of her, the love in her eyes, and how perfect she was. In one smooth motion, she shucked both his pants and boxers from his body, her eyes going comically wide at what she saw. 

Not only was Seokjin the sweetest man alive, gorgeous, and ripped– he had the biggest dick she ever saw in her life. Truly, he was blessed in all areas, Y/N speechless as she stared at the intimidating length and girth, suddenly understanding why he mentioned needing to stretch him out. 

“Seokjin, you’re huge,” Y/N, again, was clenching around nothing, looking up at him with awe. Seokjin had blush in his cheeks that wasn’t due to his arousal and the temperature of the room, Y/N realizing he was bashful. “I– you want my mouth, my–”

“Come here,” Seokjin cut her off, regaining his ability to take control, hooking her around her waist. “I want you to sit on my cock.”

Stunned, Y/N felt her wetness roll down her thighs, and fuck, she was going to need it. She had no objection to that request, maintaining their eye contact as she reached down, grasping his cock, the jaguar hybrid’s ears flattening against his skull as her thumb smeared precum around his tip. Having mercy on him, and neediness taking over her again, she ran him through her folds, dripping over him, whimpering brokenly when he caught on her entrance. Would he even fit?

“You can take it,” Seokjin read her mind, tucking hair behind her ear and kissing beneath her jaw, the words making heat strike through her. “Go slow.”

Swallowing thickly, she lined him up, exhaling shakily as she sunk down, and despite how turned on she was and the sheer wetness spilling from her, the stretch was enough to knock the wind out of her. Taking over, guiding her by her waist, Seokjin grit his teeth as she took him inch by inch, her chest heaving. It was a tight fit, enough to have Seokjin seeing stars, Y/N’s thighs shaking on either side of him. He was telling her to breathe when she was fully seated in his lap, cock throbbing inside of her as she adjusted to his size, kissing over her face soothingly. 

“Move when you’re ready kitten, okay?” Seokjin himself was a bit starved for oxygen, Y/N cupping his face and pressing a kiss on his lower lip, tongue flicking over the flesh. 

Regaining her ability to function, eyes going round when she looked down– she pressed a hand over her lower abdomen, the slightest bump there, the action having Seokjin hissing. Darkness was in his eyes when her walls fluttered around him, and with that, Y/N gave an experimental roll of her hips, both of them moaning in tandem as he slid out an inch.

“F-fuck, Jin,” Y/N whined, getting a hold on his broad shoulders to ride him properly, lifting herself up only to drop back down harshly, feeling like he was spearing into her guts. 

Entirely overwhelmed, Seokjin leaned forward, wrapping his lips around one of her nipples while she fucked herself on his cock, happy to let her chase her pleasure, to provide it. Y/N’s head was thrown back, entirely gone, Seokjin’s name leaving her lips like a prayer when he stroked a thumb over her clit, bracing her hands on his knees again to switch up the angle, one that gave Seokjin quite a show and had his cock rubbing against her G-spot deliciously. 

“Look at you,” Seokjin awed, his hips beginning to buck up to meet her strokes, taking his cock like a saint. “Fuck. So pretty, so perfect.”

With Seokjin fucking into her like that, his steady circles over her clit, she was gone again with a slam and grind onto his lap, an elastic band snapping within her as she stilled, collapsed against Seokjin’s chest as she felt herself gush. 

“Holy fucking hell,” Seokjin groaned, his lap soaked, Y/N’s pussy clamping down so hard on him his vision was turning white. 

Y/N couldn’t move anymore, throat strained from her cries, convulsing against her. The world was turning as she caught her breath, somehow still aroused, and she found herself on her back, Seokjin sucking a deep bruise into her neck. Still nestled inside of her, throbbing, Y/N wound her arms around the jaguar hybrid, hands sliding into his hair. 

“Fuck me,” Y/N breathed against his lips, and that was all Seokjin needed to release that last scrap of control he had over himself. 

Snapping his hips forward, Y/N’s cunt swollen and sensitive, she wailed, feeling him in her throat. The new position was intimate, Seokjin pretty much laying most of his body weight on top of her, murmuring things in her ear that she could only make out bits and pieces of. 

“Gonna cum soon,” he groaned, driving into her, Y/N sinking her teeth into his shoulder. 

“Cum inside me,” she requested, the discussion about her IUD already out of the way days ago. “P-please.”

“Oh yeah? You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” Seokjin teased, though the request had the predator in him coming alive. “Want me to stuff you full so you can have my cubs?”

Shock flooded through Y/N at that question, not expecting Seokjin to be like that, and shamefully she felt herself clenching around him again. Seokjin must have felt it, because he grunted, hips stuttering. 

“You’d look so beautiful,” Seokjin sighed, Y/N’s eyes rolling back, sliding her fingers over his silky ears. “Fuck, I love you, my pretty girl, my love, gonna give it to you–”

With a final thrust, Seokjin went still, kissing Y/N harshly, heat filling her as he spilled into her cunt, the jaguar hybrid whimpering. Miraculously, the sensation of him cumming so deeply inside of her had a smaller, less intense orgasm shuddering through her, leaving her utterly spent and exhausted. Seokjin himself was breathing like he ran a marathon, Y/N holding him weakly as he pulled himself together. 

“You’re insane,” Y/N accused once she caught her breath, covered in sweat, saliva, and cum, her poor pussy battered and sensitive. “I won’t be able to walk for three days.”

Seokjin giggled, actually giggled, after how devilish he had just behaved, placing an apologetic kiss on her jaw. 

“Was I too rough?” Seokjin became serious, worry etched in his eyebrows. 

“No, you were perfect,” Y/N insisted, cupping the side of his face. “I love you, honey.”

Hiding his face in her neck, he returned the sentiment, both of them content to sit in their mess for a few minutes to hold each other, Seokjin’s tail curling behind him languidly. 

“We watched about five minutes of that movie,” Y/N commented, twirling a lock of his wavy hair around a finger with a snort. “That was a hell of a first date!”

“There’s always next time,” Seokjin replied, finally rolling off of her, Y/N wincing at what they had to clean up. “I’m gonna get some things to clean you up, can you have a few sips of that water for me, pretty?”

Y/N, bonelessly, reached for the forgotten snack platter, greedily gulping the water down her scraped-up throat, watching Seokjin walk to his dresser. With a secret smile, she stared at his ass, munching on a strawberry. He only took a few minutes to gather his items: a few damp cloths, two pairs of his pajamas, and a fresh quilt to replace the one that had unspeakable fluids all over it. 

Lovingly, Seokjin cleaned her up, cooing when she winced at the sensitivity between her legs, doing the same to himself and dressing the two of them in his soft pajamas. Y/N only had to stand for a few seconds while he changed the quilt, pulling it back so they could get in. 

They ended up in the same position they were originally in, Y/N curled into his side, Y/N turning the projector off of mute in an attempt to pick up wherever the movie was, her eyes catching on something sitting on one of the pillows. 

“Oh my god. The alpaca watched us fuck!” Y/N exclaimed, pointing at the plushie, making Seokjin’s squeaky laugh fill the room, Y/N smacking him lightly on his chest. “Why do we keep scandalizing the innocents?”

“Our cross to bear,” Seokjin shrugged, brushing his lips over one of the love bites he left behind.

Holding her close, they chatted about the movie, ate some snacks, and after about an hour, fell asleep intertwined– the projector still rolling on, and rain falling gently outside. 

“I think I’ve figured out the audio,” Namjoon invited Y/N into his room days later, once she untangled herself from Seokjin in the morning and completely rinsed their sins off of her body. “Everything we captured last week.”

Namjoon’s expression was worrying her, his eyebrows pinched, sitting at his desk and chin in his hand. He had been slaving over a digital audio workstation all week, hardly making it to mealtimes, Y/N even hearing him pacing around his room late at night. 

“Is it bad?”

Namjoon gave her a look, one that said everything she needed to know, leaning against his desk. 

“Did Jeongguk listen?” 

“He listened this morning,” Namjoon said carefully, Y/N wondering why he wasn’t present. “Due to what we ended up capturing, he went upstairs to consult his old journal. I haven’t seen him since.”

“Let’s hear it, then,” Y/N bit her lip nervously, not liking his clear reluctance. With a sigh, he pressed on the space bar. 

“What is your name?”

Static.

“How old are you?”

More static.

“Why are you here?”

Listening to her recorded voice had her cringing, but finally, there was a response to the third question. 

“Watching.” The voice was creepy, low, and made her queasy, but what was said had her skin crawling. 

“How many spirits are on this property? Are you alone?”

“Many are here.” 

Y/N glanced at Namjoon, a little confused. Sure, the responses made her uneasy, but they weren’t so bad to warrant how hesitant he looked. 

“Okay, creepy, but expected, right?” She asked, nudging him with her foot. 

“There’s more. I didn’t want to show you, but Jeongguk insisted,” Namjoon said flatly, expression darkening. “Actually, I don’t think you, specifically, should even go back to that house.”

“What? Namjoon, you’re freaking me out. Just show me,” Y/N blinked, Namjoon scrolling on the workstation to a highlighted section. 

“This is when we were in Julie’s room,” Namjoon murmured, pressing play. 

“Why are you here?” Y/N’s voice came through the speakers, Y/N recalling they only got one response in that room. 

“To kill you, whorish witch.”

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 @goooomz @uarmyhore @lopprhe @oopscoop @xicanacorpse @i-like-anime13 @hemziii @demarie04 @im-sinking-in-mud @talkyoongitome @bangtxnbxunch @primrose2507 @kihyunniesmonbebe @7evensin @lilmxchis @00ihatesnaku @neverthefirstchoice @missyoueverysingleday @cathy-1997 @prybts @doublebunv @milopenne @steadycreationangel @rinkud @minjianhyung

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[marvelfilth]

🎥 girl (18+)

Part 2

Pairing: Tara Carpenter x f!reader

Warnings: camgirl!Tara, bottom!Tara, smut, strap-on sex (Tara receiving), blow job (R receiving), weed consumption, pet names

Summary: Tara asks you for a favor, you're more than ready to deliver

Masterlist

You have a simple agreement with your roommate - you ignore the whimpers and moans that echo throughout the apartment whenever she's shooting a video (which happens a lot, almost every day), and in return she stays silent about your own hobby. 

The agreement is not the best, and you're definitely at a disadvantage, but, outside of her online persona, Tara is nice and considerate, and she tried very hard to soundproof her room, which didn't help at all to no-one's surprise. 

It certainly does help that she greets you every morning with a bun or two from the bakery across the road, and lingers by the door when you leave for work, promising to cook something for dinner. 

Really, it almost feels like a perfect life, until she locks her bedroom door and you have to plug your ears and roll a blunt to keep your sanity intact. 

See, Tara is nice and considerate, but she's also breathtakingly beautiful and casually seductive, walking around the apartment in tight shorts and barely there crop tops, pressing against you in all the right places when she hugs you goodbye and looking so pretty when she walks out of her room after hours of filming, clad in a silky robe, with sweat still clinging to her as she skims past you to the bathroom.

You're not sure she's aware of the hold she has on you.

"Can I have some?" She asks from your doorway, pulling you out of your thoughts. 

You turn in your chair and wave her inside, your eyes lingering on her cleavage as she walks past and sits on the desk, pulling your chair closer so you're stuck between her parted legs. You look her up and down, noting the slight shakiness of her hands and her dilated pupils. 

You reach past her for another blunt, but she stops you with a shake of her head, and pulls at the one still stuck between your lips. You watch her relax as she takes a drag, leaning against the wall. You can't help it, your eyes dart lower, catching a glimpse of her nipples straining against the confines of her white tank top, then even lower to the glimpse of skin between her shirt and her sweatpants. You curse her for choosing the least revealing clothes today of all days, when she is sprawled right in front of you. 

She nudges your chin up. Her cheeks are reddened and she struggles to keep eye contact, biting her lip as she passes you the blunt, pressing it against your waiting lips, pads of her fingers grazing the plum skin.

"I wanted to ask you something." Her words are barely coherent, or maybe you're just too far gone from the weed and the pretty girl who doesn't know how much power she has over you.

"Yeah?" You swallow, playing with the hem of her pants over her hipbone. Her breath hitches. 

Her blush deepens and you try not to swoon at the sight. "You know how I'm almost done with my student debt..?" She mumbles, catching your fingers and interlacing them with hers over her lap.

"Mhm," you hum, fixated on the way your hands fit together.

"I thought of a way to speed up the process." She trails a pad of her thumb over your knuckles. "I'll need your help." She looks up, her eyes glazed over.

"What kind of help?"

She takes a moment to respond, and eventually climbs off the desk and onto your lap, planting her hands over your neck. She takes measuring breaths, hiding her face, her chin tucked into her chest. "For my site," she reveals and launches on a ramble, not giving you time to respond. "You won't have to do anything, I'll do all of the work. I'll just need you to wear a harness and be you. You know, hot without even trying. You can wear a mask, if you want, or you can stay out of the frame." She chews on her lip, finally looking up to meet your eyes. One of her hands settles on your thigh, squeezing. "I bought something for this. It's perfect for you. And me." 

You stop breathing altogether. "You want to ride me?" 

She chokes on her breath. "I- well, yes, but- No! I mean…" She clothes her eyes and you hear her curse and her breath. "I mean, I had something else in mind…" she trails off, hiding her face in the palms of her hands.

You take her wrists and pull them apart, settling them on your shoulders, and plant your hands over her waist, squeezing in reassurance. "What did you have in mind?" 

This time she doesn't hesitate. "I want you to deepthroat me." 

Your jaw clenches. Never in your wildest dreams have you thought a moment like this would come. But here she is, on your lap, eyes full of hope and want, asking you to fuck her face, implying she wants to ride you. 

She takes your silence as a sign of hesitation and continues on, sliding closer to you in your lap, pressing her chest against yours. "I'll give you a share, of course, and no one will know it's you, I promise. You'll be visible only from your waist down, I'll just get on my knees and-"

"Stop," you cut her off, "I'll do it, just stop talking." 

"Yeah?" She asks with trepidation. 

"Yes." 

"Then let's go." She hops off your lap, tugging you along to her bedroom.

"What, now?" You ask, stopping her in the doorway.

"Now." She nods with fervor. There's a new glint in her eyes, one you've never seen before.

"Okay." You let her guide you to her bed.

She spends at least half an hour setting up her camera and rummaging through her closet, before she comes back to stand in front of you in a pink lingerie set. You gulp, taking her in. The undergarments do nothing to hide her pretty breasts and gushing pussy. Your hands itch to tear away the garter belt holding her fishnet stockings. She basks in the attention unapologetically, slowly turning around to let you see her butt, arching her back to grant you a glimpse of her folds. You feel like you need to be restrained in order not to pounce on her and run your tongue over her cunt. When she turns back to face you she pushes her elbows together, bulging her breasts as she hands you a change of clothes. 

You didn't even notice she was holding something.

"You really thought this through, huh?" You ask to fill the suffocating silence.

She smiles, nodding, and reaches for the hem of your shirt, tugging it up. You follow her lead and undress as fast as you can with your shaking hands. She takes a seat on the bed, drinking you in, her thighs clenching when you're left in your underwear. She reaches behind her and hands you the harness without another word. You gulp when you notice the size, taking a double take before pulling it over your hips. She stands up and helps you fasten it, her hands lingering on your heated skin. You pull on black slacks, a white dress shirt and a silver wrist watch without a question, but hesitate when you notice black boots on the floor near the foot of her bed. You look up questioningly and see her nod, so you pull them on too. Her tongue darts out to wet her lips as she starts rolling the sleeves of your shirt up to your elbows, keeping her eyes pinned to your lips.

"Better," she whispers.

You nod, feeling her warm breath on your neck. 

"Kiss me?" She asks, batting her lashes, and pushing you to sit on the bed, straddling you the second the backs of your thighs meet her soft bed. 

Your hands find home on her hips, sneaking past the fabric of her panties, making her grind against your lap.

"I thought I wasn't supposed to do anything?" You tease, enjoying the way the tips of her ears turn red.

"I just don't want this to be awkward." She mumbles, threading her fingers through your hair. "Please?" 

You grant her wish, pulling her in for a lazy kiss, languidly moving your lips against hers, pulling the softest whimpers out of her mouth. Your hands move up on their own accord, eagerly cupping her tits, barely holding back from tearing the lace of her bra apart. She moans at the intrusion, her grip on the back of your neck turning painful. It's not enough for either of you.

You pull away for a breath before diving back in with vigor. She parts her lips, letting your tongue in to explore the warmth of her mouth and you moan at the feeling. She parts her thighs even more, desperately rubbing against you. 

You stop her before it's too late, pushing her off your lap and onto the bed.

"Hm?" She hums, blinking up at you in confusion.

You rub your palm over your face, gesturing at the camera with your other hand. "We got off track."

She exhales and looks away, before getting up and turning the camera on. You look at her for guidance and she pulls you to your feet, turning you so your side is facing the camera, her eyes fixed on yours the entire time. She takes hold of your wrists, placing your hand under her jaw, and your fingers automatically clench around her face, making the smaller girl close her eyes before sinking to her knees. She wastes no time undoing the buttons of your pants, placing sweet kisses over your abs, trailing down and finally pulling the silicone cock out, letting it slap the side of her face before placing a kiss to the tip.

You can't look away from the sight, your mouth falling open and your chest heaving rapidly as you try to control to urge to bend her over the bed and fuck her raw. She looks up at you innocently, before giving you a slow, long lick down to the base of the shaft of your fake cock and sneakily placing a kiss to the visible patch of skin of your inner thigh. Your other hand takes hold of her long locks at that, wrapping the strands around your fist before tugging harshly, placing her mouth over the tip and thrusting inside. She tears up but welcomes you eagerly, moaning loudly as she her fingers clasp on the backs of your thighs, nails digging in.

Tara ignores her own burning need in favor of finding a way to make you feel good, bobbing her head on the cock and watching your expression with lust filled eyes. She knows she found the spot when your hips jerk and eyes roll to the back of your head. Her throat hurts and her tears ruin her mascara, but she doesn't care, as long as she gets to see you like this, all flushed and panting because of her. She chokes when she notices a trail of cum rolling down your inner thigh. She can't help it, she pulls away, and before she knows it she's catching it with her tongue, moaning at the taste. 

"Fuck," she whimpers when you tug her away and back to the fake appendage, your cheeks painted red. "Feels good, doesn't it?" She asks, sliding her hands up to grip your ass. 

"So good, baby," you groan, pushing into her mouth, making her gag around the length. "You have no idea what you're doing to me."

She looks at you like she does know, her eyes wide and full of need. She shifts on the floor, tugging one of your legs forward and you comply with no hesitation, pulling the wet hair out of her face before settling on gently massaging her scalp. 

Her eyes fall shut and that's when you notice it. She's grinding down on your boot, painting it with her wetness as she desperately rubs against it.

"Look at you, getting off on my foot like a slut." You grip the sides of her face, and use your hips to thrust into her mouth. "My dirty girl, looking so pretty like this."

Her eyes bulge as she fucks herself against you, letting you use her and using you in return. 

You can't take it anymore.

You pull out and give her no time to question you before pulling her up and crashing your lips in a heated kiss, full of lust and passion. You walk her back and she falls on the bed, scurrying up and tearing away her bra. You take a moment to appreciate the sight of her body, sprawled on the bed with her legs spread, granting you a perfect view of her puffy pussy, partially hidden away by a piece of fabric. She wiggles impatiently when you take too long to move, biting on her lip and reaching down to part her lower lips for you, her hips buckling against her hand. You take no time in tearing her lingerie away, carelessly throwing it over your shoulder as you lunge at the brunette, attacking her neck with biting kisses and littering a path down her stomach with hickeys. 

"I need you so bad," she whines, trying to tug you lower.

"Yeah? You want me to fuck your pretty pussy?" You ask, spreading her folds open. She's dripped all over the bed already.

Her face turns beet red as she tries to hide it in the soft cushions, but you don't let her, forcing her to look at you with a tight grip on her chin. "Answer me." 

"Yes," she whines.

"I don't think you want it bad enough." You start pulling away, but she catches your shoulders in an ironclad grip, pulling you back in and forcing your face down on her breasts. You suck on her nipple, rolling it between your teeth.

"I've wanted you to fuck me since the first day I saw you," she confesses, throwing her legs over your hips. "I wanted you to bend me over the counter every time you looked at my ass a little too long. I wanted to get on my knees and eat you out when you came back from a date with that bitch, to show you how it's actually supposed to feel, to make you forget about everyone else, but me." 

You release her nipple with a wet pop and move to sit, trailing your hands over her sides. Her eyes are closed, like she's afraid to face your reaction. You cup her cheek, swiping your thumb over her cheekbone, gently coaxing her to look at you. You smile when she does, and circle her waist, tugging her up to sit on your lap. You're face to face now, and you waste no time in letting her know where you stand.

"Then I'll spend a lot of time making it up to you, angel. Does that sound good?" 

She nods feverishly. "Please," she moans and claws at your shirt, tearing it off. "Want to feel all of you." 

You quickly take off the rest of your clothes under Tara's watchful eyes. She doesn't waste a second in throwing herself over your lap once you're done, pulling you in for a kiss, moaning at the feeling of her skin pressed against hers. Finally.

"How about that ride?" You ask between the kisses, nudging her legs further apart. She shakes her head, nuzzling her nose against your cheek. "I- we can do that next time, right?" She asks, worrying her bottom lip with her teeth. 

You see the hidden meaning of her question easily. 

Will there be a next time? 

Your heart melts. "Of course, baby." 

She relaxes, and falls back on the sheets, tugging you down with her. "Make love to me?" She whispers.

Your chest fills with so much warmth it might spill over. You take hold of her hand, interlacing your fingers over her head and place a soft kiss on her lips. "Always." 

She giggles happily, and you think this is what heaven must feel like. 

You tease the tip of your cock against her heat, collecting wetness. She's so wet there's no need to get her ready, so you waste no time in bottoming out in one thrust, pushing her knees against her chest. You stay like that, letting her catch her breath, your entire body tense. 

You wish you could feel her clenching around you. 

You pull out until only the tip of the cock is left inside her tight pussy, before shoving back in. "Taking me so well," you mutter against her neck, enjoying the pain of her nails scratching your back. "Such a good girl for me." 

She cries out, gasping. "Only for you."

You fill her up to the brim, hitting her in all the right places as you fasten your pace, chasing her orgasm. She has to bite your shoulder when you hit particularly deep, making her eyes squeeze shut and her toes curl. "Ah-  just like that," she moans, "fuck- baby, feels so good." 

You double your efforts, rutting into her hard enough to make the bed shake with each thrust.  Your orgams is fast approaching, but you can't afford to think about it when she looks so utterly breathtaking under you, looking up at you with tears stricken eyes, her lips red and puffy from all the biting and her neck red from your lips. 

You see the moment you take her over the edge. Her jerks hips jerk violently and her eyes roll back, the cry she lets out so loud it makes your ears ring. 

You fuck her through it, watching as she comes down from her high, eventually pulling out when she starts nudging away. You take off the harness, throw it somewhere behind you, and tuck her into your side, basking in the way she clings to you, lazily pecking your neck every now and then.

Her hand moves languidly down your stomach, but you stop her, pulling it back up your waist. She sleepily whines in protest, but you know she won't be able to put up a fight. You kiss her on the lips, smiling. "Rest now, we'll have time for that later." 

She pouts, blinking heavily, but relents in favor of burrowing into you even more, throwing her leg over your hips, pinning you down with her weight. "Later," she promises into the crook of your neck.

#tara carpenter x reader #tara carpenter x you #tara carpenter x y/n #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega x you #jenna ortega x y/n #tara carpenter #jenna ortega #camgirl!tara #tara carpenter x fem reader #tara carpenter x fem!reader #jenna ortega x fem!reader #tara carpenter smut #jenna ortega smut

[yanderestarangel]

"You look lonely... I can fix that"

TW: gn reader, random thoughts, smut, nsfw, blowjob, worship, sub!tomas, soft!smut.

Worship Tomas after one day he arrived tired of his obligations as a ninja - he tried so hard to always do his best, always please everyone and never got the attention he deserved - he was your lover boy, a man so full of pain and desire unexplored, so you just had to adore him, take care of him, regardless of how ghostly and independent he seemed at all his height.

Being kind to him would be like a gift from the gods, he looks beautiful when he's totally naked, his muscles flexing lazily on the sheets of your shared bed - he'd still be preoccupied with some lin kuei tasks, but you just told him to relax.

"-I have obligations today, dear..." Tomas would whisper between his pink lips, sleepily, while his naked body was illuminated by the sun that insisted on rising. You would just ignore the ninja's rational protests, leaning down to kiss every part of his warm body - from the thin skin of his neck, to his abdomen with a light line of white hair, that went to his groin - Whispering how beautiful he is. It's that moment, how good are you going to make him feel and well, he just can't help but go blank for you - running his hands through his soft hair and admiring how handsome he is sleepily, his blue irises lazily staring at you while smoke watches you lower yourself to his erect member, placing small kisses along its hot length, Vrbada is squirming and whimpering and begging you to please fuck him, make him cum.

"-Please... I was a good boy." Vrbada says moaning, as you finally took him into the heat of your mouth, smiling so beautifully and completely dazed with pleasure, his salty taste mixing with the heat that buzzed in your ears - hearing those hoarse squeaks with slight sharp peaks with each movement deeper, slamming the tip of his thick shaft into your throat.

His muscles tense, beads of sweat form on his forehead as he fights his impending climax, the pleasure becomes almost unbearable, pushing him to the edge, but he remains on the precipice. His hips rock against your heat, seeking more friction as his need becomes more and more desperate.

"-I want you so much", He stutters between heated moans, while trying not to force your limits, but you didn't care, just praising him and telling him to let go... Taking out all the accumulated lust he had in you - that It was his reward.

"-I don't want to make a mess... Fuck- I'm going to c-cuming-" Smoke moaned, covering his eyes with his arms, letting out several swear words and crying overstimulated, while you held his thighs, feeling the thick ropes of cum let go of his shaft, he trembled holding onto the sheets, sighing and murmuring thanks as he remained buried in your lips, he wanted to be buried even more, until he felt his dick soften - enjoying the feeling of being cared for and adored for the first time in times - Tomas tried to formulate some coherent sentence, as he watched you take a warm towel and clean him, but you just shut him up again, leaving him lying down again, he was a blushing mess while you insisted on calling him "pretty boy", that It was his day, and he was going to enjoy it, every inch of your affection and love made the ghostly ninja's heart warm even more.

"-I want to be your pretty boy forever..." was the last thing you heard, before seeing your lover slowly fall asleep again.

©YANDERESTARANGEL 2023

#yanderestarangel #tw smut #mortal kombat #mortal kombat fandom #mortal kombat fanfiction #mortal kombat x reader #mk1 #mortal kombat smut #tomas vrbada x reader #tomas vrbada mortal kombat #smoke tomas vrbada #tomas x reader #tomas vrbada #tomas vrbada smut #tomas vrbada headcanons #smoke x male reader #tomas vrbada x male reader #mk1 x male reader #mk1 x reader #tomas vrbada x y/n #tomas vrbada x you #smoke smut #smoke x reader #smoke x you #smoke mk1 #smoke x ftm reader #smoke tomas vrbada x reader #tomas vrbada x ftm reader #smoke mk #mk1 x gn reader

[bigfatbimbo]

AHHHHH THANK YOU FOR SAYING MY WRITING ABOUT VELVETTE WAS IN CHARACTER :))) YOU GORGEOUS BEAST. Oh yeah. Yes. 🫶 anon is me, I am 🫶 anon. Here with some fresh baked goodies (art I finished the second you responded to my ask) I'd like to share with The Public™ !

Before that though, thank you, and I mean THANK YOU for being so kind to my mid writing! You're a real angel, thank you truly. And also thank you for disregarding any appaling spelling mistakes I may or may not have made, I started learning english 4 years ago ahaha x-)

I just had to get out of anon so I could share my abominations (art) with you! Calling whatever I'm making "art" is still a bit of an overstatement considering how. Uhmm. Well, not good I am at that, but, never the matter! All of this preface is irrelevant.

I am ecstatic to hear that you'd like to hear my thoughts on Lucifer, however. Because I drew about precisely that.

Not my proudest work, considering it was made in like 20 minutes with my fingers at the end of my shift, but I had to do something about the thoughts festering in my brain about him after I started reading your blog. I made it a point to not crop the fact that the reader is kneeling to his height, I found it to be a fun little addition.

ANYWAYY!! I have a few words about this piece, as always. Wait. Well, not always this isn't routine yet. You'll be bombarded by my artwork on a practically daily basis from now on ahaha :))

Anyway².

It was always a maddening feeling for him, when you pulled him into the nearest unoccupied room in your line of sight. The way that his breath would get heavy and uneven, he felt overwhelmingly hot as you nearly kneel down to his height, sliding your hands over his body like you owned it. Owned him. He'd grab onto your thigh for support since his own legs betrayed him and started to get all wobbly, he couldn't trust himself to stay standing in his current state.

Whenever you decided to do these things to him he'd feel like it was the first time all over again, his mind would go blank; it was always so exciting, he was practically losing his mind already, really. All of his confidence built up by the both of you due to your insessant reassurance and praises that allowed him to tease you when he felt particularly bold (having now the knowledge that you wouldn't leave him if he weren't "perfect", whatever perfect may mean to him, anyway.) quickly drained out of him, all he can feel is this...desperation to feel you more, no matter how close you two already were. He needed you so terribly much, the way he couldn't keep his own noises down got a giggle out of you. It made the strain in his pants ever the more noticeable for him.

Were he any more coherent, he'd probably try to shut such thoughts down, they would have made him feel like any other cheap sinner he'd openly look down with disgust upon. He was, still, the king of pride, the feeling was so completly alien to him, this.. lust? He couldn't attach a word to his thoughts in these moments. Don't ask so much of him! He was never so overwhelmed by (what we both know is) love, not with his ex-wife, at least. It enticed him equally as much as it terrified him.

"Ex-wife". A title that permeated through your brain as you got a hold of his hand and gently slid the wedding band off his ring finger. You mindlessly throw the sign of his hold on the past across the room, a sharp metallic noise is heard as it hit the wooden floors. He flinched at the noise, but not once did he look away from you. In fact, he leaned back on you further after you had thrown the ring onto the floor, bright, glowing eyes looking into yours with palpable anticipation. A clear solidification of your victory, according to yourself.

You won! You can't help the grin that grew on your lips as you tugged on his pants, the friction of that movement earned a yelp from him.

Oh yes.

You should be proud of yourself.

This was going to be a long, long, long night.

AHAHAHAAAA! I LOVE HIM. I am the Anne Boleyn to his Henry the VIII sometimes. Oh yes, in case you were perhaps wondering, the piece I had previously made inspired by your works was relating to the post where his wings and horns came out during sex. A lovely mental image, that post earned. But, that abomination is too horrifying to be unleashed onto The Public™. Your stellar writing also forced me to learn how to draw Vox, so, be proud of yourself for that one!

About trying to get you to post about adam; don't worry! Or do, who knows what your goal is, but I will talk about him in your asks like a maniac and attempt to appeal to whatever in your brain makes you like a pathetic man. I want to eat him, like, actually cut him open and eat his heart and gnaw on his bones. (Whats up with cannibalistic ace/aros? Me and alastor twinning on occasion fr.)

About literally everyone else; I must inform you that sir pentious drives me nuts. Woe the snake flood be upon ye. You're about to listen to me talk about his 2 dicks insessantly.

I await your response! I would adore to hear your thoughts. Your reactions to my last ask tasted of a pâte sucrée tart with vanilla custard and strawberries for the filling. (By the way this isn't like a joke or anything? I taste and smell words, feel textures when listening to music and attach colors to textures. Like, this is actually what that felt like to me. I hope you are aware of that.)

Signing off from another abhorrently long ask,

-🫶 anon, now revealed to be a coquette coded woman.

AAAAAAHHSJDJDJDKKDJ

Let me compose myself because OH MY GODDDDD.

This reveal is absolutely crazy omg HIIII👋👋

ALSO THE ART IS INSANE YOU DID THAT IN 20 MINUTES????? WITH YOUR FINGERS????????

I’m going nuts over here. Thats actually amazing from the way that Lucifer looks to the lighting of the scene. I’m absolutely awed.

Also the little drabble you wrote had be gagged like I so didn’t expect it to hit that hard what?? You’re a really good writer to be honest, oh my god!

Oh and… if you wanna message me that one piece of art inspired by the pegging Lucifer fic… actually let me rephrase. PLEASE message me that one piece of art inspired by the pegging Lucifer fic.

“Your reactions to my last ask tasted of a pâte sucrée tart with vanilla custard and strawberries for the filling”

By far my favorite compliment yet from you. They just keep getting more creative HELP I LOVE THEM.

Oh and, lastly, I am SO looking forward to more artwork from you. You’re truly amazing!

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel smut #hazbin hotel lucifer #inbox open #dom reader

[ghouljams]

Little continuation from the last fae!Konig interaction. I have many thoughts on him as well as some art of him under the cut.

"Apologize," Simon tells him once he's calmed down enough to actually form a coherent thought, arms crossed as he looks down his nose at König. König's eyes go wide, his shoulders hunched forward to make himself look smaller. There's something over his face, or around it, you can't put your finger on it exactly. You can't get a clear look at anything but his eyes (unnatural, crystalline blue) before your eyes just sort of... slide off of him. Simon doesn't seem to have this problem. "You heard me. Apologize."

König hums, a nervous, unhappy sound, avoiding the inevitable. He's a member of the court for fucks sake, Ghost can't talk to him like this. Then again he did break a rule, misstep a boundary, he knows better than to touch what doesn't belong to him. "I-"

"Not to me," Simon cuts him off, "apologize to her." You jolt as he hauls you against his side. You'd been so focused on not throwing up, your not sure what's happening. The arm around your waist is helping more than you thought it would. The buzzing under your skin goes warm and silky as Simon's thumb rubs under the hem of your shirt.

König stares down at you, eyes wide and unblinking, hunched forwards in a distinctly inhuman way that you're trying not to stare at. "Pardon me." He says after a long moment. He sounds like a kid being forced by his parent to apologize to you.

"Uh," you say dumbly, not sure exactly what to do in this situation, "that's not really an apology my dude." You can feel how pleased Simon is with you, like a purr between your ribs, it sings through you. König looks at him for help.

"You heard the lady." Simon tells him, warns him. König groans and shoves a hand into his pocket tugging a slip of paper free. He holds it out to you.

"Here," you take the paper and turn in over, you think that's his phone number on it, Simon takes it from you before you can get a good read on it, "To make up for my rudeness." König narrows his eyes at Simon, you narrow your eyes at König in retaliation, earning another pleased chime in your chest. "One favor, that's all you get Ghost."

"That's very kind of you," Simon drawls, and it feels like something more than paper has been exchanged. There's a heaviness in your fingers where you touched it, you feel like it's important, but you can't hold onto the thought before it slips away from you.

When König finally leaves Simon's fingers press to your forehead and wipe something off. Suddenly the sick feeling is gone, and you feel like you can breathe again. He shakes it off his hand with a grimace. You press your own fingers to your forehead, rubbing the spot König tapped you.

"Better?" Simon asks you, you nod.

"Better. Never been tapped by anyone but you before, didn't know it would suck that bad." You sigh. Simon raises a brow and smiles like he's trying not to laugh at you.

"Is that what you're calling it?"

POV a 7ft tall fae man is forced to apologize to you under threat:

#cod x reader #cod x y/n #cod ghost #ghost mwii #simon ghost riley #ghost mw2 #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost x reader #reader x ghost #ghost x reader #simon riley #fae!ghost #fae!Konig #ghoul art #nobody better say anything mean about my doodle #or you're not getting the grade A cowboy beef I'm drawing

[medicbrainrot]

you make me wish i could disappear

A/N: Soooo, it’s been a while, hey? Instead of studying for my immunology exam, or even going to bed at a reasonable time, I wrote 1460 words of angst/hurt/comfort instead. Apologies in advance for any poor writing, I’m running on not enough sleep and not enough dopamine, hence this new piece after months of nothing. Spoilers for MW3 kind of. Let me know what you guys think!

It’s the middle of the night; she suddenly bolts upright in bed panting heavily, her hair wild from sleep as she gasps, trying to hold back tears. She clutches at her chest as she tries to catch her breath, disoriented to her surroundings. Simon is currently asleep beside her, but begins to stir when he feels her moving and hears her gasping. He cracks open his eyes, alerted to his love’s distress. 

“Sweetheart? Are you alright?” He reaches up slowly as he sits up, trying not to startle her in her disoriented state. “What’s wrong?”

Still half asleep and half panicking, she turns to Simon and immediately starts conducting a trauma sweep, the muscle memory of her training kicking in as she checks him for injuries. 

Simon doesn’t fight the inspection, letting her check him with the understanding that it might take a bit for her to snap out of her frantic nightmare-induced state. He gently brushes his fingers across her cheek, hoping that the gentle touch will pull her back to wakefulness and help her feel safe again. 

“You’re okay, you’re safe here love. It’s just a nightmare.” He murmurs gently, cupping her face. 

Although still frantically checking Simon for injuries as she presses on his collarbone followed by his facial bones, she slowly starts coming back to a more coherent state, her frantic search slowing down as she calms down. 

With his other hand he gently reaches to rub up and down her back, looking at her with worried eyes. He takes one of her hands and places it on his chest, letting her feel his heartbeat. 

“Slow down babe, you’re okay. You’re fine, I’m fine. You can calm down.” He says softly, sliding his fingers from her face into her hair. 

He lets her get herself oriented, softly brushing her hair back as she rests her hand over his heart. “You’re okay, nothing’s wrong, I promise.”

“You’re alive.” She pants softly, the tears in her eyes threatening to spill.

“I’m safe, I promise.” He reassures her, rubbing her back in soothing motions. “It was just a nightmare, I’m right here.” He knows he needs to be gentle with her right now, she can be on edge for a while after a nightmare like this. 

She relaxes onto her knees a little bit, leaning into Simon’s shoulder as he pulls her close. He wraps his arms around her, pulling her into his lap, holding her tightly to give her the comfort she needs. He can tell she’s still tense, so he encourages her to lean into him as he soothes her. 

They sit there in charged silence, curled into each other as he gives her a few moments to gather her thoughts together. 

“Makarov came after the 141 again.” She sobs softly, pressing her face into Simon’s neck.

Simon knows exactly why she’s been having recurring nightmares about Makarov, he’s been having similar ones alongside her. They almost seem to take turns having fitful nights of sleep, interrupted by each other’s nightmares. 

He sighs, knowing there’s not much he can do at the moment except comfort her. “It’s okay, it’s over now. It was just a dream.” He turns his head to press a kiss to her forehead, hoping his touch soothes her frayed nerves. 

He lets her melt into him, his arms around her tightly enough to keep her pressed to him, his heartbeat thudding in his chest as he recalls the events of a few months ago. They simultaneously feel as if they happened yesterday, just like they feel as if they happened a lifetime ago. 

He shifts their bodies across the bed so that he can adjust them from sitting into laying down, encouraging her to rest her weary body on his. He keeps her curled onto him, running his hand up and down her back to try and comfort her. 

After several moments of sniffling, she finally bursts into tears, breaking the silence in the room. “I’m scared….”

As soon as she starts crying, he knows she’s one step closer to getting it out of her system for the night. This is a recurring event, and he knows how to comfort her so that they can eventually both fall back asleep. He gently rubs the back of her head, encouraging her to let it out. 

“I’m here, everything is okay sweetheart, I’m here. You’re safe here.”

He holds her tight to his chest, knowing that all he can do right now is comfort her. It’s easy for him to do so, he knows her like no one else. He allows her to press herself into him and cry, letting out intense sobs as she processes the nightmare and the events that caused it. 

After several minutes of intense crying, it seems she’s gotten through the worst of the breakdown. She continues crying, but a little less intense, eventually shifting to sniffles instead of sobs. 

He kisses her forehead again as the tears start slowing down, his comforting touch doing its job of calming her down as she cries it out. “It’s okay love, it’s okay. You’re safe here with me.” He whispers soothingly.

“I miss Johnny.” She sniffles into Simon’s neck. “He’d laugh if he saw us like this.”

“He called it from the beginning, didn’t he?” Simon agrees softly, holding her a little tighter. He knows Johnny’s death had hit her extremely hard, the two of them having become fast friends upon the formation of the Task Force.  “I miss him too. I just know he’d be teasing us about being right.”

“It was cruel of the universe to not let him see he was right.” She sniffles softly.

“I’m sure he knows love, I’m sure he knows.” Simon chuckles softly. 

A few more moments pass before Simon nudges her with his shoulder. “Are you feeling a little better?” He asks gently as he swipes his thumbs across her cheekbones. 

She nods, sniffling away a few remaining tears. “I was just thinking.”

“About?” He inquires hesitantly.

“The first time you kissed me.” She mumbles.

Simon recalls the incident in question. It had been her birthday, just before midnight to the next day. They had gone out for a quiet dinner to celebrate, neither of them being in a particular mood to do so, but using it as a reason to get off base. 

On the walk up to her door, Simon had finally gathered up the courage to kiss her, but she had started crying after he did so. 

“I’d be lying if I said I didn’t remember the moment. It was certainly… unique. Had I’d known you’d cry, I might have held off.” He says softly still inwardly cringing at the idea that he’d made her cry. “You never did explain why you cried…”

After the tears started, she had bid a hasty goodnight and shut the door in Simon’s face rather abruptly. Things had been a little awkward afterwards, but upon her insistence, Simon eventually accepted that it wasn’t necessarily his fault she’d shed tears. 

“It’s kind of silly now, in retrospect.” She mumbles into Simon’s shoulder. “Before… Makarov… There was one night Johnny and I had gotten a little drunk, and he’d bet me that you’d wait until something like my birthday to kiss me.” She sniffles, trying to clear her nose. “When you kissed me, I remembered that bet and the memory kind of startled me, because it felt like Johnny was shouting ‘I told you so!’ from the afterlife or something. So I guess I owe him a drink the next time I see him.”

Simon chuckles slightly at the explanation, relieved that her tears hadn’t been exactly his fault. “He was right on target with that one. I didn’t think I’d have the guts to do it, but I’m glad I did.”

They lapse into a comfortable silence, the warmth of the bed helping them both feel a little more relaxed after tonight’s ordeal. 

She yawns, the adrenaline from the nightmare finally starting to wear off. “Sorry for manhandling you earlier.” 

“It’s alright, it was just a nightmare, it can be incredibly disorienting sometimes. I’m just glad you’re feeling a little better.” He smooths his hand across her hair before pulling the blankets back around them. 

She takes a deep breath, letting the warmth of Simon’s embrace comfort her. He tucks the blankets around them, settling into the bed as they get sleepy again. He continues rubbing his hand up and down her back a little longer as she drifts off to sleep, feeling at ease that he’s there to comfort her. 

He presses one last kiss to her head before drifting off to sleep himself, comforted by the fact that his lover is safe in his arms. 

A/N: Thanks for reading! Likes, reblogs, and feedback are always appreciated! (Requests are also still open)

Masterlist

#medicbrainrot #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #cod mw2 #simon riley fluff #simon riley hurt/comfort #cod mw3 #ascensionism #and #take me back to eden #sleep token #were the songs on repeat for this fic #i will never get over how beautiful that album is #a literal year and i'm still obsessed #also it's been almost a year and a half that i've been hyperfixated on cod and the dopamine still hasn't worn off #i'm pleasantly surprised that it's lasted this long

[mosylufanfic]

Rebelcap Whumptober Day 2

I went with the prompt in the title because I just loved it so much!

I’ll call out your name (but you won’t call back)

The first thing he heard was the monotonous beep of a heart monitor, slowly speeding up as he came to full consciousness.

The first thing he realized was that he couldn't move his arms or his legs.

"Easy!" said a voice. "Easy, easy. It's not permanent. We had to give you a paralytic."

He stared up at the strange face hovering over his. Twi'lek, he registered. He wasn't a prisoner of the Empire, then. 

Of course, that didn't mean he was among friends, either.

"I couldn't have you thrashing around and undoing all my hard work," the Twi'lek went on.

He made a questioning noise.

"I had to  brace your back to keep the spine immobile, remove your spleen and your appendix, set several ribs and vertebrae, and pump in a lot of synthblood. You're not entirely out of the woods but you may be seeing daylight. Do you know where you are?"

Scarif, he thought, but no. That was where he'd been. 

The last thing he remembered was kneeling on the beach, Jyn in his arms, holding onto her as his internal injuries and the shock wave of the boiling ocean raced each other to kill him first. And the burning point of her kyber crystal, pressed between them - 

How he had gotten from there to here was a mystery he couldn't even begin to solve.

Jyn. Where was Jyn? Dead? Somewhere else in this facility? He tried to look around but there was some kind of brace keeping his head immobilized. All he could see was a rough pourstone ceiling, pitted and stained with age, and some of the area around the foot of his bed. That wasn't any more informational - just pourstone wall and a jumble of medical-supply crates, long expired if their labeling was anything to go by. 

"You're on Tamsye Prime," the medic informed him. 

Tamsye Prime, he thought. Why was that important? Why was that ringing the most distant of alarms?

When he tried to reach for it, pain burst in his midsection like a bomb, and a groan escaped his throat.

"Sorry, let's get these meds dialed up." A couple of clicks, and something cool began to spread through his veins from a spot in his elbow.

"What are you doing?" said a second voice. "She wanted to know when he woke up."

"I'm checking him first." A straw nudged at his mouth, and he instinctively jerked his head away. "It's water," the medic said.

He considered pulling away again, but his throat was dust-dry and a coughing fit might tear him open. And this medic didn't seem the type to poison him after working so hard to put him back together. He accepted the drink, holding most of it in his mouth to trickle as gently as possible down his throat.

"Right away, she said."

"I'll comm her in a moment."

The painkiller started to take effect, blurring the knife edges of the pain into spiky clouds. He thought about asking for it to get dialed down again. He didn't like to be fuzzy. But he wasn't sure he could form coherent words.

Jyn, he thought. Jyn.

A click and a buzz and the second voice said, "Yeah, he's awake."

"Kriff you," said the medic.

"I'm not presenting my ass to be kicked along with yours," said the second voice. 

He lost time then, awareness blurring in and out until a door swished open. The mysterious Her.

"Everybody out," said a voice. It had the mechanical edge of a vocoder, distorting it from original. 

Shuffling and murmurs as people exited. 

"Everybody means everybody," said the vocoder'd voice. 

"Kest - " the medic said in a pleading voice. 

"Do I have to say it again?"

A pause, and one last set of footsteps, and the hiss of the door. 

He scrabbled through the clouds in his head to pull his thoughts together and work out what to do. 

Was this Jyn?

The aggression tracked. But why would she be wearing a vocoder? Unless she was trying to disguise herself from whoever it was that had them. 

"You awake?" said the voice, now clearly addressing him. 

He let his eyelids flutter in confusion that wasn't entirely feigned. 

"I'm turning down your painkiller drip so you're clearheaded enough to talk," she went on. "Of course, that means the pain will come back, too. If I like what you have to say, I'll turn your meds back up."

No. It couldn't be. Not talking to him like this.

He was pretty sure.

He waited long enough for the clouds to clear to the edges and then allowed his eyelids to slide open.

"Took you long enough," said the voice.

She was staying to one side of his head, correctly guessing that with his neck braced, his field of vision was severely limited. Anything he could use to guess at age and species were disguised by the vocoder, of course. Gender, too, if he hadn't heard the pronouns the medics used.

But he had the feeling that, like many inexperienced interrogators, this one was letting the vocoder do the work and didn't realize the kind of information he could extract from what it left behind. 

Like a Core accent, there in the syllabic emphasis, the rising and falling tones of the sentences. 

Like - 

No, it wasn't her. 

He didn't think. 

"What's your name?"

He flicked through aliases like flimsicards. "Aach," he managed. "Clem Aach."

"Hmm. Where do you come from, Clem Aach?"

"Ogem," he said. Mid-Rim, far enough away from Scarif so that if the Empire were searching for them - and the Empire had to be searching for them - it might throw these people off the scent. 

"How did you get here?"

"Crash," he said.

"Crashed in what? We didn't find any wreckage. Anywhere. "

He made a puzzled face, as if the lack of his entirely fictitious spacecraft was a surprise to him as well. "Crashed," he said again. 

Silence for a moment, as if she thought he might change his mind about that. He waited it out with the patience of one who used silence like a scalpel. 

Soon, much sooner than he would have, she went on, "I was the one who found you. In a rock canyon just outside our perimeter."

"Thank - you," he managed. A little politeness sometimes went a long way, and if he played this right, they might think he was some gormless civilian in the wrong place at the wrong time.

"You were saying a name," the voice said. 

"I was?"

"That name is why I brought you back. You think we waste resources on every broken wreck of a being we find in the wastes? I want to know where you heard that name."

"Don't know," he lied. "Maybe - delirious?" That was possibly not a lie. Given the extent of his injuries, and his lack of memory, he could have been delirious. He hoped he hadn't dropped anything other than Jyn's name.

Because who else would he have been calling out for?

"Handy," the voice said. 

Stalemate. He wasn't willing to betray Jyn's identity, she wasn't willing to give him anything to go on. 

And yet, his captor had already heard him. If he admitted to it, maybe they could get somewhere. Even if "somewhere" was knowing how he'd ended up here. 

"Could - have - could have been 'Jyn,'" he said. 

Silence again. This time, calm and considering, like she was working out which of his fingers or toes to slice off first. "Jyn Erso," she said.

Hells. He had said her full name. Maybe in response to someone. That wasn't like him. 

Reluctantly - "Maybe."

The footsteps again, traversing the length of his bed. Slowly, his interrogator stepped into view. 

It was Jyn.

And it wasn't.

Her face was different - rounder in some parts, sharper in others. Her mouth was softer and fuller, most of the lines and shadows around her eyes missing, some scars vanished, only smooth skin in their place. And there was no recognition in her eyes as she looked at him. Just suspicion. 

Her eyes cut to the heart monitor, whose high beeps matched the sudden galloping pace of his heart. "So you do know who I am," she said.

He made a noise of partial assent, still staring dumbfounded. If the girl in front of him was a day older than sixteen, he'd walk into the nearest Imperial base and give himself up right now. 

"Good," she said. "We've got that out of the way." She stepped out of his line of sight again, and he stared at the ceiling, trying to feel his way through a situation that had suddenly gotten a lot stranger - and it hadn't been particularly normal in the first place. 

Tamsye Prime.

Sixteen-year-old Jyn. Clearly not going by her original name, and not willing for anyone else to hear it, even in the Partisans - for that had to be who the others had been. 

Impossible. 

The dial of the medication clicked again, two times. Three. Downward, as there was no cool rush into his elbow again. 

"Now," she said very softly. "Who sent you?"

FINIS

Inspired by the woooorrrrrrld of difference between Felicity Jones as Catherine Morland and Felicity Jones as Jyn Erso.

#Jyn Erso #Cassian Andor #rebelcaptain #rcwhumptober #fanfiction #mosylufanfic lives up to her damn name #Cassian is extremely beaten up #and among strangers #but don't discount our boy yet #star wars #search your feelings you know it to be queue

[teabookgremlin]

i have been having so many thoughts recently about van and her relationship to her appearance. are these thoughts coherent? not particularly. am i going to try to make them somewhat coherent to share with you all now? yes. will i make any sense or say anything that hasn’t already been said? that remains to be determined

i first really started thinking about this when i started my fic feel like me again but honestly it had been floating around in my mind since we got our first look at adult van and the debate over if she was butch enough began (she is btw that is not up for discussion here and not the point of this post). anyway lets get into some of my thoughts.

first i wanna talk about her hair. i know recently people have been pointing out how before the wolf attack we most commonly see van with her hair tied back (with the exception of just a few occasions) and how after the wolf attack it is always down (except for during doomcoming but then her scars are covered by a mask). it’s very clear that her hair becomes a shield for her, using it as a way to hide her scars. even as an adult it’s never up and we see it hanging in her face a lot. especially back in society it makes sense to me that van would want to hide her scars somewhat, i mean her whole thing is trying to live in a past where none of the bad shit happened. as for before the attack, her hair being pulled up often, first of all same, i do this and for me its bc i’m sick of my hair and just haven’t gotten around to cutting it yet. it could be similar for van or she just prefers it out of her face. i feel like it’s unlikely that she wouldn’t have cut it if she wanted to as she already presents pretty butch and presumably is not overly bothered by people clocking her (kind of drawing this from both her appearance and that she is so much less concerned with being caught by the others than tai is) but there is still the possibility that she just doesn’t want another thing about her to scream dyke as she is living in an american suburb in the 90s. 

onto her scars specifically. i love how she stops covering them after tai tells her that she’s beautiful. i’d imagine that van is not someone who is used to compliments on her appearance (or at least not ones that are affirming to her). i also know that a lot of us have headcanons that her mom is shitty to her about her appearance (or at least i do and i’ve seen it in a few fics) so hating how she looks would have become internalized and the scars would just make it worse. and there’s how she storms out at the suggestion of a party, hiding off in the woods until tai comes, bringing a solution and way to support her. and she clings to tai as they first walk out at doomcoming, holding her arm, kind of tucking herself against/behind her until the kiss. in this moment van is shown that she is still desirable despite the scars and this is just further affirmed when tai asks to see her without the mask and calls her beautiful. and going forward she doesn’t directly hide them anymore, even as an adult when in society, where facial scarring would get her more attention than among a group of teenagers who all know exactly what happened and are too busy trying to survive to care about appearance.

this is all i’ve got for now but i certainly think that there is so much to talk about concerning van and her appearance both because of her scarring and because a complicated relationship with presentation is not uncommon among lesbians. idk i have lots of thoughts but putting them into words is hard so feel free to add on your own ideas and happy van vednesday

#is this also me projecting slightly bc i have been trying to figure out how i wanna present? yes #but i prefer talking about van than myself so <3

[diddybok]

a soft blow on the face

all characters depicted in my writing are from my own imagination and do NOT in anyway represent nor reflect the people in real life :)

➩pairing: jisung x gn!reader

➩genre(s): demon boyfriend!au, angst

➩warnings: mentions of sex, swearing, Han is a demon which the reader kinda knows.

➩summary: Han realises he has just, due to his nerves, outed some very interesting information about the reader.

➩wc: 1.8k (1,857)

➩author’s note: psst! all the ‘words’ are made up, so don’t believe any of it is real :)

Screaming. Why is he screaming? You rub your temples to offer some sort of peace to your mind. Before you could get up and figure it out for yourself, Han comes scrambling in and hides behind your back. He has toothpaste all over his mouth and his hair is messy.

“Baby help me!” He mumbles around his toothbrush.

You try to turn and look at him, but his grasp prevents that, holding your body towards the door.

“What’s wrong, what did you do?” You question, slightly squinting in the direction he’s pointed you at to see if you could see anything.

You feel his hands off of you and you immediately take the chance to turn and face your boyfriend, who now stands upright with his arms folded and his eyebrows furrowed. You have to stop yourself from laughing at the sight.

“Why do you assume I had something to do with it?”

“When do you ever not have something to do with anything?” You counter, raising an eyebrow. Han opens his mouth to speak and then immediately closes it again, feeling his toothbrush falling out. Instead of arguing his point further, he grabs ahold of you and walks you towards the bathroom.

“Okay wait woah, why are you using me as a body shield and leading me into the place you ran out of screaming?” You say trying to place all your body weight on your feet to stop you from moving.

Unfortunately for you and fortunately for Han, he has quite the strength for a…whatever he was. The thing is, you are sure that there is something strange about your boyfriend. You had your suspicions whenever he would get angry and curse in a language you had never heard before.

It sounded so, coherently jibberish. Yet it sounded like the words would roll off some mother’s tongue. You never really went to question him about it though because the next time you witnessed something strange about him was during the time you were both intimate.

You honestly felt as if you have obtained some form of ‘better than gorilla-grip’ achievement. Why? Well, you had seen his eyes glow a dark red. Dark enough for anyone to mistake them as a really honeyed brown. However, as it glinted in the light you could see that wasn’t the case.

You should’ve been scared, but you had clenched incredibly tight around him and you wish you had photographed his face in the moment. His beautiful face etched in bliss, mouth open. You had always thought his canine teeth were fascinatingly long.

“Y/N, look, oh my fuck look!” Han treats his toothbrush like a wand and motions exasperatingly to a small dot on the wall in the bathroom.

You squint and attempt to get closer to it before you get yanked back by Han, stumbling slightly. “No! What’re you doing? That thing could kill you if you make any kind of contact with it.” He says matter-of-factly, grabbing your shoulders. Some of the toothpaste on his toothbrush started to drip onto your skin.

You can’t decide whether to be annoyed or amused, so you settle for the middle of the two. Really fucking confused.

“Babe,” you look back at the small black spider on the wall, “I love you, I really do. But you’re kidding right?”

He casts his eyes to the wall, the small spider still there. He turns his head, dragging his eyes along as he looks at you and shakes his head slowly.

“That isn’t a spider.”

You raise an eyebrow.

“It’s not a spider?”

“Do you think I would be screaming if I saw a spider that small?” You go to reply to his question but he cuts you off. “Don’t answer that.”

Your blinks urge for him to continue.

“It’s a Skrögen.” He looks at you seriously, his expression unwavering which sends a chill down your spine. You wonder if he’s realised he has just said something to you in that particular language you hear him speak every so often.

You swallow lightly and debate on whether you should ask him to repeat what he just said or grab the electric swatter.

“I don’t think I know what species of spider that is…”

“That’s because it isn’t a spider. It’s an evil little-.” He turns to look at the wall to find the black dot gone. He screams again, right next to your ear.

You cower back and try to block the wails that seemed high enough to burst your eardrums. “Jisung stop screaming!” You say eyes squeezed shut.

“Osch kunig börn!” He had shouted frantically looking around the bathroom. Reveal yourself!

You stood there shocked and confused. Not knowing whether to disrupt him in this state or to slowly leave the room. As you take a step backward, Han turns to face you.

His eyes are now glowing red, much brighter than you had seen before. Through his honeyed skin, you could see his veins start to glow a dusky orange. He holds his hands out as if to say he wasn’t going to harm you.

Your body moves before you even think to do it and you begin walking back every time he took a step forward. Suddenly, your back hit the bathroom door.

You go to pull down the handle of the door, but it’s frozen in place as you hear the lock click. You most certainly did not lock the door. He tilts his head at you in warning, his hands still held out in front of him.

“I can’t let you do that” His voice rumbles.

“I won’t tell anyone what I saw, I promise. Just…unlock the door Ji.” You don’t know how you are able to stay so calm. Perhaps it’s the shock of the sight in front of you.

He frantically shakes his head and the glow of his eyes and veins start to dissipate. He takes several deep breaths and washes his face. You had even forgotten that he had white all around his mouth, your thoughts rightfully occupied elsewhere.

You don’t dare take your eyes off of him as he situates himself on the toilet seat, his head in his hands.

“I know you know that I am not a human,” He says looking up at you. “And if they were just suspicions then they are no doubt confirmed now.”

You stand there, unable to string words together to form a sentence.

“There are some things you need to know. Now that they have seen you, you aren’t safe.”

“Not safe? Not safe from what? Not safe from who!” You say, your calmness starting to ebb. Han sighs deeply, seeming reluctant to tell you.

“Not safe from who, Jisung?” You slightly yell.

He gets up and quickly walks to you and places his hands on your shoulders. If he feels you flinch as he does so, he doesn’t bring it up. Instead he takes a deep breath and exhales, softly blowing on your face.

It’s a thing that you two did whenever the other could sense an overwhelming force of panic or anxiety; to impede the other’s breathing.

“His name is Minho. He is my boss and I was sent here three years ago to kill you.” Han looks at you, his face stoic and his words smooth, as if he hadn’t just admitted to being sent here to kill you.

All of a sudden the air feels hot, too hot. Your chest starts to tighten. You try to breathe but you find that you can’t.

Another soft blow on your face.

“Meeting you wasn’t a coincidence, it was always the plan to stumble my way into your life. It wasn’t the plan for me to fall in love with you. Even I had forgotten why I had come here. Come to you.” Han explains rather quickly.

“If this is some prank it is not funny at all.” You finally breathe out.

Han shakes his head and rubs his thumbs over your shoulders soothingly. He swallows harshly. “I’m afraid not darling. Though I do admire the fact that you haven’t slapped me across the face.” He speaks in a newly attuned accent.

“You’re British?” You exclaim. Your eyes nearly jump out of your sockets. You begin to ponder if there is anything real about this man at all. Han nods his head in amusement, a smile adorning his face, but it quickly fades.

“I have to go and you need to disappear. They are sure to return to your house knowing you’re still alive no doubt and that won’t be good. For you nor your friends and family. They will find you by any means necessary.” A beat. “The fact is, you aren’t just a human being.” He explains.

His words are moving too fast for your brain to adequately process them. These ‘Skrögen’s’ are set to return to finish the job Han couldn’t do. Your friends and family are no longer safe if you don’t leave. You aren’t just a human being.

You aren’t just a human being.

What.

“I’m sorry I honestly do not know what you want me to say or do in this situation.” It was your turn to push past him and splash your face with some cold water. Though it was doing little to calm your nerves, the reality of it all just starting to kick in.

“So you’re telling me, some Skernin—”

“Skrögen”

“—Little fucker, found us - or rather me - alive and well. When in reality I should be dead and rotting because of the fact that I am, and I quote, ‘not just a human’?” You question as you pace back and forth in the bathroom.

Han looks at your bare shoulder where the toothpaste had started to dry and then back up at you expectantly, waiting for the rest of your thoughts on the matter to spill out from your mouth.

“You know you can’t just leave me right? Like you can’t just get up and leave after telling me that I am not just a human. Surely not. I mean you really just can’t leave me here Jisung not now, not like this I-” Your rambling is cut off by a soft pair of lips on yours.

When his lips release from yours you don’t even realise you’re crying until you taste salt. You will your eyes to open, but it stings. His hands, much bigger than yours, envelope your face and you enclose your hands around his.

When you finally open your eyes, you’re met with those red eyes again. It was entrancingly beautiful, his eyes. You couldn’t force yourself to look away. Even as a stray tear escaped his left eye, you were frozen in place.

Your cheeks started to get a tingling feeling, but you couldn’t react; his eyes compelling.

“Isch suberan.” he whispers. The tingling grows from your cheeks up to your head, your eyes drooping slowly. I’m sorry.

“Sanek sän njork. Isch vaben osch.” You felt a teardrop fall onto your chest and then nothing. Your eyes closed and it fell silent. Go to sleep. I love you.

ʚ hope you enjoyed ^.^ you can support me by liking, commenting and reblogging! it is heavily appreciated ᵕ̈ ɞ

i do not permit my work to be translated or reposted in any way, thank you.

© 2023 diddybok

#skz #stray kids #han jisung #stray kids fanfic #skz fanfic #skz x reader #stray kids x reader #stray kids x gn reader #skz han #another day another slay

[sleeping-in-the-sky]

Infinite Blue Headcanons - Kisses

What do you get when you take this IB ask and run wild with it? This. Infinite Blue LIs x Reader. No mentions of reader pronouns or gender. Also posted on Ao3 here.

Milo - Hands: 

Milo likes holding your hand. It’s casual, non-obtrusive, yet intimate enough that he feels connected to you.

It’s become a habit for him to mindlessly stare at your intertwined hands, comparing the size of your fingers to his, taking note of whatever moles/bumps you may have on your skin.

You notice him doing this yet again during movie night, so you lift his hand to pepper kisses - on his fingertips, then his knuckles, then his wrist.

“What, are you trying to seduce me?”

Milo’s tone is deadpan, but you can tell he’s pleased.

As he uses his free hand to brush the hair out of your face, you can see that he’s wearing a faint smile. 

Alexei - Cheek: 

Alexei’s cheeks, like the rest of him, are soft. They have flecks of acne scars, like trophies won from stressful days at work, and pinching them between your fingers will usually garner a soft giggle from him, although if you do it too much he’ll squirm away. 

It was probably a spur of a moment kind of thing - he was relaxing on the loveseat, doing research on the behavior of wild hamsters when out of nowhere his phone was plucked right out of his hands. 

His expression is quizzical, but before he could ask what the matter was you cup his face in one hand, lean in and place a kiss on his other cheek. 

When you pull away you’re greeted with a spellbound Alexei, cheeks rosy and looking up at you lips parted in surprise. 

If you do it again he’ll nuzzle into your hand like a cat, warmth crawling up his skin.

Tobias - Chest:

Tobias has a tendency to sleep shirtless on hot summer nights. He likes the feeling of blankets and sheets against his bare skin, plus he knows his abs look good even while slumbering.

Not that you’re complaining.

Sunlight filters through the window and eases you awake, and it’s no surprise when you lift your eyelids to find yourself in Tobias’s embrace ‘cause that man clings onto you like a damn koala when he sleeps.

As you shift and move in his arms he starts to stir, and in a half-asleep state you turn to press your lips against his chest, close to his heart.

Partially coherent Tobias doesn’t have the brain cells to make any flirty remarks. 

Instead, he breaks out into a sleepy soft grin and pulls you closer so he can kiss you properly to reciprocate.

“Morning, babe.”

I hope you didn’t have any plans for the day, cause you’re not leaving the bed for at least another hour. 

Leo - Neck:

Leo loves PDA, so if you’re dating him you’ll have to get used to spontaneous kisses. 

You two are holding hands? He’ll kiss your knuckles and joke about how he’s your Prince Leo. Is his arm slung over your shoulders? He’ll pull you in to plant one on your temple.

It’s kind of like how a dog automatically wags its tail whenever it’s happy- you being in close proximity triggers his physical affection switch.

So why not do it back?

The thought comes to you when he’s giving you a piggyback ride, and so you trace the skin at the base of his neck where there’s a faint tan line before kissing it.

Leo laughs. It’s an airy sound that’s music to your ears, light and warm like sunshine.

He’ll get back at you if you keep doing it,  dropping you to the ground and chasing you around until he tackles you, both of you breathless and giggling.

Brooklyn - Jaw:

It’s become a sort of tradition for you two that on mornings where you both had an empty schedule, you would set the kettle on the stove, Brooklyn would select a vinyl to play on his vintage record player, and together you two would make breakfast.

On this particular morning, the sky gave blessings in the form of a pleasant rainfall and as you waited to make your tea Brooklyn took your hand and pulled you into a slow waltz.

Reaching up you draw circles against his cheek with your thumb and brush a kiss against his jawline.

You’re rewarded a bashful Brooklyn, face flushed as he pulls you in closer, rocking back and forth as classical music plays and raindrops tap against the glass in harmony.

Rory - Ears:

Rory’s interests of painting, cooking, and gardening don't allow for a lot of human interaction. If you have your own hobbies to tend to, he’s more than happy to exist in the same space, silence permeating the air as you two pursue your respective creative endeavors.

But he also wouldn’t mind if you were to hug him from behind and ask him what he’s doing. He’ll complain, saying that you’re distracting him, but he’s a damn simp and will make no move to push you away.

His entire neck and ear area is sensitive, pale and littered with light freckles which makes for a nice contrast to his bright red hair. Kiss the nape of his neck, then his hairline, and slowly make your way up.

As soon as your lips brush against that sensitive spot behind his ear, a shiver runs up his spine and he whirls around, his face an impressive shade of scarlet.

He can’t decide whether to snap at you or kiss you senseless. 

For an even better reaction, gently bite his ear :)

#infinite blue #Rory #Tobias #Leo #Brooklyn #Milo #Alexei #headcanons #Rory x Reader #Tobias x Reader #Leo x Reader #Brooklyn x Reader #Milo x Reader #Alexei x Reader #Reader Insert

[mothshrub]

[Spoilers for The Creator 2023]

I'm not generally a huge fan of plots that go 'the anti-robot person is on a journey to become less racist' for a variety of reasons, mainly being that at this point I've seen so many bad attempts at it that I don't have a ton of trust.

The Creator was an interesting case because... it kind of took a lot of tropes that I generally hate, but then polished them enough that although I still hate the tropes, there was genuinely a solid story throughout it all.

I still don't buy the idea of Joshua actually being able to get back together with Maya in a happy family kind of ending. But then, the movie didn't buy it either, because although it was Joshua's fantasy, it... isn't actually what happened.

Sure, a version did? He saw a robot version of Maya with his wife's memories and they embraced and kissed and were happy to see each other. This was also a version of his wife who'd been in a coma for five years, potentially heard his whole confession of regretting everything and apologizing and probably saying everything she wished she could've heard and lived out. Then she wakes up out of her coma and she has no idea where she is, except she's probably definitely on a ship that's about to crash and burn, and she's gonna die, and then she sees her former husband at the end of the world in this bizarre heaven/hell where they're the only thing either of them has left? Does she even know she's alive, and that she has minutes to live, at minimum from the chip in her brain giving out? Did she notice she was an android, is part of her disorientation about that on top of everything?

Yeah, I could buy her embracing the former father of her former child in that moment. I don't think I could buy her having an easy time dealing with 'ok, I swear I'm not allied to the americans and their anti-robot policy' Part 2 Electric Boogaloo (because they did that before once already) in a longer term where they actually had to consider trying to make a new life together without some major trust issues, but this wasn't that. This was a desperate grab for them to hold onto something at the end of the world.

(None of this even starts examining the part where his actions are what led to the destruction of Maya, which the movie still definitely includes. He betrayed her, and she's injured to the point of being trapped in a coma that only death can free her from. Yes, what's left of her embraces him at the end, but... she never recovers.)

Outside of that... I have more thoughts, including what felt like a move where the robot side rescued Alphie and Joshua after Joshua helps them defend her from the american forces. Like--on the one hand, enemy-of-my-enemy and all that, but on the other, Joshua had literally kidnapped Alphie out from under them before as soon as it was safe, and he was STILL needing Alphie to find Maya! If their confidence in him was half born because Alphie was too injured to be moved, then I probably missed that part, because what jumped out at me was a sense of him getting trust that was unearned. (What if he'd tried to run off with her even while she was hurt, and his earlier defense of her was only so that she wasn't completely destroyed?)

From there I feel like there's a question of 'sometimes even risky people need to be given shelter and safety and trust to be able to finish their personal journey', and that this movie is showing a case where yes, that was part of Joshua's story. The question of 'would I personally make the choice to trust someone who has REPEATEDLY betrayed us with high stakes and devastating results' is very different to 'is this the story being told, and was it an emotionally coherent story'. I feel like it was coherent, particularly given how they had it all play out. The harm of Joshua's actions is shown, partly through the lens of the cruelty of the people he kept company with and partly through the direct lens of how cruel and dehumanising he was to Alphie and other androids. He ultimately was in a unique position to be able to bring Alphie on the mission that the robots wanted in the first place, even if they'd expected it to happen much much later, and he did it, even at huge expense to himself. He even managed to get Alphie out!

I guess what I'm saying is I have Complicated Emotions about the movie, and it felt like it was bullseyeing multiple tropes that I normally strongly dislike, but doing them in ways that.... weren't as bad as they could've been?

Robo-racist goes on a journey and becomes a little less racist. (Played straight, but at least they were thorough in explaining how robots were never the heart of what actually killed his parents in the first place, and this robot child remembered and internalized everything he said to her, and the racists he was allied with weren't just Individuals With Bad Experiences but rather were systematically cruel with total monsters interspersed.)

Dude is horrible to his romantic other and the problems get swept aside. (They were, but... also kind of not? She never recovers from his betrayal in a physical sense, even with the temporary android twist at the end. Everything he talked to his coma-wife about was based on his own understandings and views of what he did wrong, which was still flawed, and he only had a few minutes to try, but he also did say everything he could think of in the time that he had, and we see his later actions definitely do reflect a change.)

Redemption through death. (Death is the conclusion of his journey, but arguably his redemption comes from keeping Alphie alive, bringing her to the spaceship, helping her take down the ship, then getting her out of there. He gets the reward of his wife at the end, which, eeeh, but she seemed happy to see him too, whatever tangle of stuff is going on inside herself as well.)

Anyway... good movie, imo. Fantastic graphics. I have a completely separate tangent about them someday, but that's a later thing.

#the creator #john david washington #the creator spoilers #the creator 2023 #meta #the creator meta #AGH I left a dangling 'edit' at the very end #I've trimmed it now

[thenewblackcanvas]

just a room away

18+ • drabble • yunho • pt. 1 • pt.2 • pt.3  • pt.4

you’ve avoided all contact with yunho since the night of the storm.

you haven’t even spoken to your friend much. you weren’t close to begin with but you’ve taken on an opposite shift to her at the store whenever possible. she’s a little perplexed but doesn’t question it.

with the stress you've accumulated lately, you decided to take a break and go to a small spa just outside of town. however, if you had bothered to even speak to her for one moment you wouldn’t have been caught off guard by what happened next.

“y/n?”

his voice stops you as you’re leaving the small restaurant in the lobby and going back to your room. “y/n, wait!” the shock on your face only lasts a moment before continuing to walk. he catches up to you, hopping into the elevator before the doors can close. you don't say a word. he furrows his brows as he looks at your stoic profile. lips turning up in amusement and confusion. you were being strange to him. was this a game? as the doors opened, he was still close behind. the closer you got to your room the angrier you got. stopping in front of your door you spin around “Why are you following me”

however he was no longer right behind you. “I was going to ask how you knew where my room was”

sure enough, his keycard opens the door diagonal to yours.

“fuck” you murmur, before going into your room and shutting the door.

•

about an hour passes of your uneasy thoughts. the thought of him is crowding your mind despite your peaceful getaway. his close proximity is the cause of the intensity and you quickly convince yourself there's a way to alleviate the pressure in your head and your core.

You knock on his door wanting to assert some kind of line but the moment he opens the door your brain empties of any coherent thought. as you close the door behind you he starts trying to speak seeming to have begun piecing together why you were cold to him but you stop him by getting close to his face. you hover over him as he sits halfway on his bed. the stance has him quiet, fully pushing back onto the bed. “this trip is to relieve my stress. I’m not here to talk to you.” the way you emphasize talk makes him furrow his brows in confusion but you're getting onto the bed lowering your face close to his waist before he can think of a response.

the position you're in makes his mouth water in an instant. face down with your ass up while your hands move to stroke him through his pants. he breathes out with a stutter at the feeling but can't hold back a low groan when you kiss his cock through the fabric. 

he has to admit, he loves seeing the nervous, doe-like side of you where he works you up and takes charge, admiring how small you are compared to him but this…he doesn't have words for this. when you start to tug down his sweats you finally look up and make eye contact. for some reason he gets bashful, his cheeks tinging pink as he lifts his hips for you to pull his pants down to have his cock. he looks away, before you bring your lips down on him. the experience of you kissing his tip gently isn't one to revel in because you take him half way into your mouth immediately after. you try to pace yourself, the feeling of him partly in your mouth and in your hand a little more than intimidating but more than that it's also empowering. you want to make him feel a fraction of what you did then leave him to fester in his questions and confusion. the feeling spurs you on taking him faster as your head moves rhythmically. you hear him mutter ‘shit’ under his breath. you pull back to let him glimpse your wet lips. the look in your hooded eyes makes him want to reach out but you move away from his hand before lowering back onto him, taking him farther than before, gagging at your overexcitement. he tries to ease you back with a hand on your face but you push it away as you continue to take him. you can't take him too far, filling the slack with your hand. you aren't well versed in this but you've wanted to try something. You pull back slightly to allow yourself some reprieve before swallowing. his hips stutter immediately.

you smile the bit you can at his reaction as you suck a bit more before doing it again. he subconsciously grabs the sheets under him. you don't give him a second to think, going almost on autopilot. you pull back for a breath, swirling your tongue around his tip before taking him again. the feeling of him getting closer makes you want to bring him there. the way he had you feeling the past few weeks has been maddening. you remember this, digging the nails of your free hand into the tops of his thigh. he hisses, making a move like he's going to grab your hair but wills his hand right back to gripping the sheets. right when you hear his rushed 'im going to fucking cum' you pull back to just the tip, sucking like a lollipop until you feel the tension reach a peak. as he freezes, you bring your other hand to cup partly over his tip, catching everything he spills out. stroking him through his release gives you a rush. you smile happily at the rush of power that is tingling you all over. reeling in your smile, you sit up to look down at him, getting close to his face again before wiping your cum covered hand down his shirt. 

the moment you get up to leave is almost a win. almost.

but before you can fully crawl off the bed he tugs you back, handling you much like a doll into place between his legs. “where are you going tiny?”

you're lost for words at having lost control over him that quick. he'd admit he was stunned but the sight of you moving to leave knocked his brain back to where it usually was. the robe covering you was barely doing its job anymore but he had no need for it anyway. he opened it quickly with one hand, the other holding you in place by your thigh. your whole front was exposed now as he looked down at you from over your shoulder. you'd almost forgotten his cock was still out until you felt it twitch behind you.

he lets you sit up as slips off the soiled shirt before gently bringing you back to sit against his chest. “you wanted to show off right? so I could see how good you could treat me? how good you could make me cum?” he moves your thighs apart, resting next to his. “be the one in charge even?” one arm comes across your shoulder, almost locking you in place like a thrill ride. “well tiny…” his other laying on your stomach for less than a second before moving to your core. “it's my turn again.”

he smacks your pussy, jolting you in his hold. you hear his chuckle low in your ear.

“I thought this was a relaxing trip for you but instead you started a game you cant finish.” right as he stopped talking his hand slid quickly between your slit. the wetness there made the grin on his face grow. “but don't worry, i can.” he unleashed a speed you hadn't expected as he toyed with your clit. you scream out before trying to silence yourself. he rubbed and pinched, occasionally moving to smack again. the fire in your stomach was growing by the second. his arm holding you released to play with your breasts. his tight hold still keeping you from moving away but fingers playing with your nipples to add to the spreading warmth all over your body.

shamefully, the moment you let go came with two words you don't think he meant to say. “my baby”

the admiring and lustful words flung you over the edge without a parachute. you swore you stopped breathing for a second. when it was finally over you had to seal his hand between your thighs to get him to stop. you hadn't realized you were shaking a bit until he was whispering, “it's alright, you're alright”, while trying to close your robe over your breasts. when your thighs fall open as you exhale, your brain slowly starts working normally again.

you gently remove his hands from you and move off of the bed. you don't see his face of disappointment and confusion as you get up. “i'm good. i just have to leave before i fall into a delusion again. goodnight.”

he’s taken aback as he watches you leave

his sleepless night turns into a contemplative morning before finally going to knock on your door. But as he opens his own he sees yours is wide open, the maid already making your bed.

pt.6 series masterlist

#yunho smut #yunho drabble #yunho angst #ateez smut #ateez angst #ateez drabble #ateez drabbles #atez fanfic #yunho fanfic

[iamthemain-character]

I Was Enchanted To Meet You

Prom isn’t as magical as it is in the movies, at least not for Bruno…or is it?

bruno carrelli x reader

gender neutral pronouns

TW: none

a/n this takes place before the events of ms. marvel

a/n pt. 2can we all just appreciate how adorable bruno carrelli is like what an absolute sweetheart

taglist: @druigss @hexluvswanda

marvel masterlist

School dances: one of the most uncomfortable experiences of the teen years. Teachers and faculty members watch on as students hold up the walls, except for the select few couples that make their way to the dance floor. The punch is always warm, and the music just a little too loud. Maybe everyone will start to loosen up and mingle, but for the most part everyone stays in their little cliques.

And yet here Bruno was at Coles Academic High School on a Friday night for homecoming, wearing a suit coat and tie, becoming a wallflower with Nakia and Kamala. A clear plastic cup in his hand, Bruno looked around the decorated room, half listening to Nakia and Kamala’s discussion.

As Bruno took a sip of his punch, he suddenly choked; absentmindedly he waved off his friend’s concerns, turning back to look at the thing, or rather the person that caused his incident. Across the room was the most gorgeous person Bruno had ever seen, dressed to the nines in [your favorite color]. But beyond that, they were laughing; while he couldn’t hear it, Bruno watched their face light up as they laughed, throwing their head back and clutching their stomach.

As the stranger uprighted themself, their gaze fell upon Bruno. They smiled, crinkling their nose and giving a little wave. Awkwardly Bruno waved back, blushing furiously at being caught gawking at the beautiful stranger.

“Who is that?”

Bruno whipped his head back around to see Nakia and Kamala eyeing him and trying to see who he waved to, knowing smirks on their faces.

“Uh, I-I don’t know.”

Kamala bumped her shoulder against Bruno’s, slightly edging him forward. “Maybe you should go introduce yourself.”

“No, no, I could-“

“Hey, would you like to dance?”

Bruno’s jaw went slack as he heard the voice, only to turn around and see that is was the person from across the room. Suddenly all coherent thought and words left him, and Bruno couldn’t do anything but stare.

“He’d love to!” Nakia and Kamala said in unison, gently pushing Bruno forward with encouraging smiles.

“Yes, yeah sure, let’s dance.” Bruno nervously smiled, offering his hand to the stranger.

Gracefully they took it, intertwining their fingers and leading him out onto the dance floor. Bruno felt frozen, unsure really how to dance. His dancing partner simply laughed, placing one of his hands on their waist and holding the other. They started swaying in time to the music, their bright smile encouraging Bruno to do the same.

“I’m Y/n, it’s nice to meet you.”

Bruno smiled back, taking a deep breath and allowing himself to enjoy the moment. “I’m Bruno, sorry about earlier.”

“Oh no, don’t be! I’ve kind of been staring at you all night too.”

“You look really nice by the way.”

“You too.” Y/n gently laughed in response.

For a moment the two just swayed, unsure really what to do. Stopping suddenly, Y/n looked around and then back to Bruno.

“Can I show you something?”

Bruno nodded in response, allowing himself to once again be led, this time away from the dance floor. The pair navigated around the groups and couples, making their way over to a corner. Tall, fake trees strung with lights stood all together, leaving a small gap between their bases. Quickly Y/n ducked down, Bruno following suite.

Unseen from the outside, the trees and decor formed a little hide away, an empty space where you could see the people outside, but they couldn’t really see in. Together Bruno and Y/n sat, shoulders touching. The soft glow of the lights was casted on Y/n, making them seem almost ethereal, and Bruno wasn’t sure he knew how to breathe.

“My best friend is part of the dance committee, so they know all about the best spots to hide. This spot, for example, has premium access to the snack table.”

As proof, Y/n reached out to the corner of the table and snagged two cupcakes, handing one over to Bruno. Gratefully he took it, trying to ignore the way butterflies filled his stomach when their fingers touched.

Together Bruno and Y/n laughed and chatted about the dance, themselves, and really whatever came to mind. Bruno found himself feeing more and more comfortable with Y/n, like they were always meant to be by each other’s sides.

“Hey, you got some frosting on your nose.” Bruno pointed out, smiling.

“Oh, whoops.” Y/n used brushed their thumb against their nose, but somehow managed to miss each time.

Laughing, Bruno picked up a napkin, “Here, let me.” Carefully he wiped away the frosting, but when he was finished, he realized just how close he and Y/n were. Their eyes looked like they had a mini galaxy in them with the lights reflecting, and Bruno found himself never wanting to look away. Slowly both started to lean in, getting closer and closer, and Bruno closed his eyes.

“Bruno?! Bruno come on it’s time to go home!” Kamala’s voice suddenly rang through Bruno’s ears, making him and Y/n jump back from each other.

Trying to calm his breathing from the near-kiss, Bruno nervously laughed and looked back at Y/n. “I probably should go, my friends are looking for me.”

“Yeah me too, my friends will be furious if I make them wait to go to McDonald’s.” Y/n laughed in return, crawling out of their little hideaway. They turned and offered their hand to Bruno as he followed suite, helping him stand.

For a moment both just stood there, not knowing what to say but not wanting to leave.

“Well, goodnight I guess.”

“Yeah, goodnight. And thanks for the dance.” Bruno replied, awkwardly giving a little wave before turning to go find his friends.

Suddenly, he felt a hand on his arm, spinning him back around. Y/n was there again, their gorgeous face making Bruno feel weak in the knees. “Wait, would you want to meet up sometime? Like tomorrow, there’s a great little farmer’s market I know, I think you’d really like it.”

“Yeah, that sounds great!”

“Awesome! I’ll text you the address. Thanks again for the great night Bruno.” Quickly Y/n pressed a kiss to Bruno’s cheek, then turning and running off to catch up with their friends.

Heat rushed to Bruno’s cheeks, and he placed a hand where Y/n had kissed him, never wanting to let go of that feeling. He couldn’t wait for tomorrow.

#Spotify #ms marvel #mcu ms marvel #bruno #bruno x reader #bruno carrelli #bruno carrelli x reader