#but really I just wanna pet all my poke pals on their heads

[ventraquin]

Me out here never able to erase a save file on a Pokemon game because I am so attached to all my teams and the little journeys we went on together.

#me and all my pocket monster buddies #pokemon #pandemic2020 #im a recluse and I love my poke team #I WANNA BE THE VERY BEST #but really I just wanna pet all my poke pals on their heads #even and especially the ones that are just a pile of sludge #i love my Muk

[noctumbra]

intentional

summary ─ “fuck him,” you muttered. “fuck him sideways.”

pairing ─ avenger!alpha!bucky barnes x omega!reader

warnings ─ smut, +18, a/b/o dynamics, mutual pining, flirting, kissing, light choking (:d), rough sex, getting together, heat/rut sex, scenting, idiots in love

a/n ─ blame seb for that ig story picture. it made me do it. but seriously, can he choke me. anyway sfjdsjf hope you like it! leave a comment if you do! thankl youuuu <333 (italic is bucky, bold is reader) enjoy this 5.6k monstrosity. 

You and Bucky had been flirting for some time, but it was more of a friendly flirting rather than something more. He would call you cute pet names and let you play with his hair on movie nights, and you would let him cuddle or hug you whenever he needed touch. You liked spending time and having a lot of fun with him.

Sometimes you scented each other, too.

His scent was reminding you all kinds of things that you considered safety and homey, so you never said ‘no’ when he wanted to scent you. He let you scent him back most of the time and you used it on his behalf; scenting him when he felt anxious, letting him bury his nose into your neck so that he’d calm down after a brutal mission or nightmare. It worked well for both of you.

Sometimes, though, you wished something more from him. There were times where you wanted him to kiss you, to pull you flush against his muscle-clad, big and warm body and to touch you like that. You wanted to know how his arousal smelled like up-close, but you were valuing your friendship a bit too much to make a move; you were afraid that you’d lose him, and you couldn’t take the risk.

So, you kept it to yourself.

Times went by while both of you went on with your cute flirting and occasional hair-playing and cuddle/hug and scenting game. You knew you should have stopped scenting him back, you didn’t want to get in between him and his potential mate, since he’d been seeing other women sometimes. You overheard him and Sam talking about Tinder and getting dates from there. You also saw him carrying a gorgeous blonde to his room while kissing the daylight out of her.

You wanted so badly to be her, but it was just not possible. You knew it.

Sighing to yourself, you wiggled under your thick duvet, burying your body into the bed even more. It was way too late for you to be awake, but you couldn’t sleep. Your bed was comfy, warm and you put your duvet into a position that got you looking like a burrito. You were supposed to be passed out with these beautiful conditions, but your body was too hot, you felt too itchy to go to sleep. Your heat was close. You could sense it; you were in the pre-heat phase and you had about two days until it hit you.  

You growled to yourself angrily a little as you wiggled a bit more. Your head was partially under your pillow when you heard your phone ping-ing. Frowning, you stuck your hand out to grab it, seeing that you had one unread message. You opened it.

“Oh, fuck,” you moaned out accidentally when you saw what it was.

It was Bucky. He was shirtless and had his dog tags on. He was holding a cup in his big hands. All the muscles and veins were visible and bulging. He had a flirtatious look on his face. He seemed to wearing thin basketball shorts under, but they did very little to hide whatever he was… hiding there.

“Shit,” you whimpered. Your face was heating up rapidly. You felt your body was ready to burst, explode, whatever. Your heart was beating in your mouth. You could feel your pussy getting wet and even throb a little. You swallowed the spit that collected in your mouth when you heard another ping.

ah, shit, sorry, doll. i meant to send that to someone else.

Well, you thought and sighed.

“It’s not fair,” you whined and inched down on your bed, your legs spreading themselves instinctively. You bit your lip. You could finally make a move and say something suggestive, or you could just… chicken out. “Fuck him,” you muttered. “Fuck him sideways.” Your phone ping-ed again.

how is it look, though? i’m not sure about sending it rn

i think i’m chickening out

You rolled your eyes as his texts. Of course he didn’t like the picture where he looked so fucking sexy.

no, you look good, you texted him back. you look damn good, actually. idk why you’re chickening out. You saw the three dots that were inclining that he was writing and waited.

i dunno, he sent. she’s real nice, ya know. i don’t wanna fuck up

“Fuck whoever she is,” you whispered. “Fuck her if she thinks you’re fucking up when you send her a picture like this.”

why would sending a shirtless pic make you fuck up anyways?

she might think i’m a bit forward? idk honey i really care about her and i don’t want her to think i’m only talking to her bc i wanna fuck her ‘til she passes out.

“What the fuck,” you whispered again, your eyes narrowing and scent turning into its sickly sweet self by the half-dirty talk. Bucky never said anything to you like this before. You shared almost everything, but when the subject was sex Bucky was always a bit shy. Now, though, he didn’t sound shy. “I shouldn’t find this sexy.”

well, i don’t think she’ll have a problem with that, pal. esp with that pic

hell no

The three dots appeared again.

so you’re saying that she’ll know that my only purpose isn’t fucking her through her mattress?

i mean i know this isn’t a dick pic but still

You shake your head fondly. Even when he was trying to sext with a woman, he was being a gentleman. You liked that about him. He was always thinking how the other person would feel if his actions were to get misunderstood. It was cute.

you’re cute, you sent. she’ll understand.

Dots appeared but disappeared a second later. It repeated itself for a couple time before it totally vanished. You frowned but didn’t think too much about it. There really wasn’t much he could say to your last text, you thought. Maybe he finally sent the picture to the person who should have received it in the first place.

You took a deep breath as you looked at the picture again.

God, he was so handsome. He recently had a haircut, and it looked very good on him. He had faint stubble. When you first looked at the picture, you thought he had a flirtatious look, but actually he was just adorable. He was caught in mid-wink, you thought. His flesh hand was dwarfing the big navy colored mug he had in his hand. You knew that mug, you bought him that as a birthday gift, and it was a very big one. You never noticed how big his hands were before, but now that you knew, it was going to be hard to take your eyes away from them.

“Ugh,” you grunted, feeling the itchy sensation increasing. “Fuck me.” Locking your phone, you dropped it on your night stand. You were wet and horny, but you didn’t have any energy to touch yourself. So, you just hugged your pillow and closed your eyes.

──

The morning found you pouring yourself a cereal with still sleepy eyes. The sun was shining brightly, the kitchen was quiet and it seemed like you were the only living creature in the tower. You yawned as you put the cereal box down and poured some milk into your bowl. You perched yourself onto the chair by the kitchen island and dug into your cereal.

You had… vivid dreams last night. It included a pair of hands touching your naked skin, blur of colors and some moaning. You vaguely remembered that there were hushed whispers of a little dirty talk, but the details blurred as soon as you woke up.

That meant you were even achier than last night. You grunted into your cereal.

“Hey,” you heard someone murmur and jumped, it was Bucky. He looked like he just came back from a run. “Shit, sorry,” Bucky muttered. “Didn’t mean to scare you.” You shrugged as you slurped the last of your cereal. With the corner of your eyes, you saw his nostrils flare and realized he was scenting the air. “Y’alright, doll?”

“Mmhm, just achy,” you murmured and carried your bowl to the sink. Bucky stayed silent and watched you washing your bowl and rolling your shoulders a couple times. He could smell your scent; it was content but somehow… off. He also knew your heat was close. Your scent was too sweet albeit being a little off, it was like he just stepped into a bakery and got hit with freshly baked goods. It was mouthwatering. Eyes narrowing, Bucky murmured a silent ‘fuck it’ to himself, he stepped behind you.

“You seem awfully tense, honey,” Bucky muttered into your ear as he pressed his body to yours. “Couldn’t sleep well?” You tensed. You could feel the heat coming off of his body, could smell his clean sweat, cologne and his own musk; it was woody and fresh: like a bonfire in the middle of a forest. More importantly, you could feel all the muscles and ridges on his body against yours.

“Somethin’ like that,” you whispered. Bucky cooed at you softly. His arms wound themselves around your waist, pulling you in and making you rest your body against his. His scent surrounded you in a second, and you felt like you were being cocooned in your bed by your soft blankets.

“Breathe with me, love,” he murmured. “It will help you loosen up.” You swallowed and nodded. Feeling his chest moving behind you, you followed his movements. “That’s it,” he said, “You’re doing great.” You breathed in, in, and in and then let it ouuuut. You felt your shoulder relax a bit. “That’s it,” he whispered and─

His lips were right over your pulse. His stubble was rubbing the sensitive flesh of your neck. You shuddered uncontrollably. Bucky hushed you as his lips brushed against your skin. His hot breath was licking your neck, making the hair on your body rise. He nosed your glands there; taking lungful of your scent, Bucky grumbled to himself about how good you smell.

With a small grunt of his, he took a step forward and cornered you against the counter. You gasped.

“Hmm,” Bucky hummed, “You are tense, honey.” His lips found your jaw, his nose poked your temple and you shuddered again.

It felt like you were underwater but weren’t drowning; everything was peaceful quiet, and you were floating.

“Bucky,” you whispered. He hummed. “Bucky…” He kissed your neck, bit down on the flesh and sucked it a little. You felt your legs tremble when you felt your heat creeping in even closer and grabbed his arms around your waist for support. You tipped your head back, exposing your throat to him, and closed your eyes.

Placing kisses all over your neck, nibbling on your jaw, one of his hands grabbed your face to turn it towards him. “Tell me you don’t want it, and I’ll stop. I promise I’ll stop.” You didn’t say anything but leaned into his touch. “Tell me.”

“I want it,” you whispered, surpassing a shiver. Your heat was taking over your body, and Bucky needed the verbal confirmation before it consumed you.

“Honey,” he said softly. “Your heat is starting, do you want me to help you?” You gasped silently, realizing that you were feeling woozy a little and your vision was fuzzy around the edges, now.

“Yes,” you answered him. “Please, alpha?”  

Bucky’s chest rumbled lightly with approval and captured your lips with his. You moaned into his mouth. It was as soft as it looked and was caressing yours so nicely. You whimpered as you sneaked your hand into his slightly damp hair. You craned your neck to deepen the kiss, letting your tongue join the game, too. Bucky groaned.

“Fuck, love,” he whimpered. “Your skin feels so soft under my hands, your body is so warm… Mmm, I wanna eat you right up.” You wiggled in his arms.

“Please,” you whispered. Bucky bit down on your bottom lip. His other hand sneaked into your pajama bottoms, sliding right into your panties and nudging your clit gently. You gasped loudly as Bucky cursed.

“Holy shit, honey,” Bucky groaned. “You’re wetting your pajama bottoms with your slick.” You whimpered when you felt one long digit swiping the slick that gathered between the lips of your pussy. “Is it for me?” He asked, a low growl could be heard in his voice. You nodded. Bucky tugged on your hair. “Words. Use’em.”

“Yes!” You cried out. “Yes, only for you, Bucky, yes!”

“That’s more like it,” Bucky murmured and slid two of his fingers inside you. Biting your lip to stop yourself moan loudly, your hand tightened in Bucky’s hair and you bared your throat to Bucky by the throwing your head back even more, submitting him.

The way Bucky was fingering you was relentless; two of his long and thick fingers were stroking your wet walls, crooking them to graze over your sensitive spot sometimes while the heel of his hand was pressing down on your clit. You were being stimulated from almost all your open ended nerves so perfectly, you wanted to cry.

“I wish you see how you look right now, baby,” Bucky whispered. “You’re so deep into your pleasure...” You hummed and let out a gasp when he crooked his fingers again. “You take my fingers so nicely. My hand is drenched, baby, goddamn.” He nosed your bared throat, taking deep breaths, Bucky filled his lungs with your sweet heat scent. “Gotta get you to your room, love. The whole kitchen is gonna smell like your heat if we don’t.” You whined, but you weren’t lost in your head yet, so you knew he was right. You nodded. Bucky kissed your neck and suddenly, your world was upside down.

You were thrown over his shoulder like he was a caveman and you were his prey. “Bucky!” He chuckled, his metal hand slapping your ass, he stepped into the elevator and told Jarvis to go up to your floor. He carried you like that throughout the whole trip. You got to feel his back muscles all the way to your room, though, so you thought it wasn’t so bad.

Bucky dropped you on the floor gently. You were standing right in front of your room. “I can wait here,” Bucky murmured and continued when he saw your confused look. “While you are getting nest sorted out, I can wait here.”

Your heart swelled in your chest because ain’t he the most thoughtful.

“Aww, James,” you whispered. He just smiled and tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear. “Really?” He nodded. You knew he took these kinds of things serious because he was a bit old-school, but you liked that about him very much.

“Yeah,” he said. “Actually, why don’t you go ahead and sort your nest out while I get us some water and snacks?” You placed your hand on your heart.

“A man after my stomach,” you said dreamily, making him snort. “Okay.” He kissed your neck one more time and walked back to the elevator.

You had a spring on your step as you walked inside of your room and stripping the bed from unnecessary things. You pulled out your softest linens, blankets and pillows; arranging them on the bed the way you liked, you added some extra tiny pillows. It looked inviting, personal and smelled like you strongly. You smiled, pleased with your efforts. Just as you sat down on the bed in your underwear, you had kept your oversize t-shirt though, you heard a knock.

“Come in!” You called out and saw Bucky’s smiling, handsome face. He had arms full of snacks and water bottles, he also had other things which you couldn’t figure out what. You watched him as he put the things he carried into your room on your small desk.

“I, uh,” he started, suddenly looking bashful. “I thought you might want, uh,” Bucky stammered over his words and just handed you something.

It was his blanket from his bed and the sweatshirt you saw him wearing yesterday.

“I can always put them aside or bring more, whatever you want,” Bucky hurriedly added. You shook your head as you reached and took them from him. You folded the sweatshirt and put it right next to your bed where you would be reaching something to wear after you were through, and spread the blanket on your bed, rearranging your pillows. You took your t-shirt off before you turned and faced with Bucky.

You walked up to him slowly until you were standing right in front of him. You could see his nostrils flaring, pupils dilating and him scenting the air. “Kiss me, alpha?” Bucky let out a broken sound before he pulled you against his body, his flesh hand cradling your face gently, and leaned down to give you the kiss that you asked for so nicely.

It was, hands down, the most loving and gentle kiss you’ve ever had. It was nothing like the kiss you’ve shared in the kitchen. This one was chaste. Bucky’s lips were soft, and he was kissing you like a longtime lover. Moaning lightly, you tilted your head to your side and deepened the kiss a bit; pushing up on your tiptoes and winding your arms around his neck, you felt his arms wrapping themselves around your waist one more time.

You felt amazingly consumed and caged and overwhelmed, and you were fucking loving it.

Bucky pulled back slightly. “Bed,” he commanded. His voice was rough and low. His woodsy, fresh smell had taken a sharp turn and now it was more like burning wood and citrus. You loved how forest-y his scent was. You quickly climbed on the bed, and a second later Bucky joined you.

His big body caged yours under him. The body heat this man had was driving you crazy because he was so fucking warm, it made you want to wrap yourself around him like a koala and never let go.

“Bucky…” You breathed when you felt his teeth grazing over the sensitive skin of your neck, gasped when he placed a soft bite there. His light stubble was rubbing your skin raw, but you were loving it just like everything else. You felt him press his body against yours fully as he drew in a deep breath.

“God, your scent is drivin’ me fuckin’ crazy,” he murmured and kissed his way downwards. He stopped when he came across to your bra, looking up in your eyes, he silently asked for permission to take it off. You nodded. As soon as your breasts were free from their containment, Bucky latched on to one of your nipples, making you throw your head back and moan loudly.

“Fuck!” You yelped when he bit down and sucked and did… things with his tongue. He was licking and sucking, his saliva had covered your nipple and you could hear the slurping sound. It was so sexy, the pleasure was so intense; you felt like you were about to come. Whimpering, you slid your hands in his short hair, pulling and scratching his scalp. Bucky hummed. The vibrations and the graze of his teeth made you hiss, your body was trashing beneath his strong one.

Bucky pulled back with a ‘pop’, licking his lips, his fingers toyed with your other nipple. “How are you feelin’, love?” He asked. You panted lightly as you gave him thumbs up but yelped again when he pinched your nipple. “Words,” he growled. “I told you to use them.”

“’m good,” you whimpered, nipple throbbing deliciously. “’m good, I swear, ‘m fine, alpha.” Bucky hummed at the name. He always liked being called ‘alpha’ during sex before, he was never shy to tell his partners to call him that when he wanted to end his dancing night with someone, but hearing you call him that was turning him on in a whole different level.

Growling approvingly to himself, Bucky’s fingers found the hem of your panties. Before he could ask for permission, you lifted your hips to help him remove them easily. Bucky took a hold of the flimsy fabric, quickly dragging it down your beautiful legs, he threw them somewhere in the room. You were now under him with all your naked fucking glory, and Bucky’s mouth was watering at the sight of you. His gums were hurting with the desire to claim and mark you.

“You are gorgeous, baby,” Bucky murmured, fingers trailing over your soft skin and making you shiver happily. He leaned in. His light stubble rasped against your nipple as he nosed your collarbone, licking and sucking small marks there. You sighed. Your hands were buried deep in his short hair, the fluffiness of it turning into a messy state. “You feel so good against me,” he murmured again, lips brushing over the sensitive skin of your breasts. You whimpered. The ache between your legs was getting intolerable with each passing second, and you wanted him to take you already.

“Bucky…” You breathed. “Please, Bucky, alpha, I-I can’t, it h-hurts,” you babbled, hands now clawing his strong and wide shoulders. Quickly, Bucky shushed you with kisses, murmured filthy nonsense into your ear as he trailed one hand down your front. You gasped when his fingers brushed against your clit. It was already so sensitive and throbbing and aching─

“So wet,” Bucky whispered. “I’m gonna taste it later.” He brushed his fingers up and down for a couple times and pulled his hand back. “Now, we make your hurting stop, love.” You nodded. Your eyes were half-closed, you looked debauched without Bucky doing anything properly yet, and more importantly you looked drunk with only a couple kisses and touching from him.

If that ain’t the best kind of ego boost, I don’t know what is, Bucky thought to himself as he bit his lip and removed his clothes. Your sweet heat scent was filling his lungs and the room, and making him feel lightheaded. His skin was prickling with the intensity of your scent. He knew very well no matter how many times he’d shower that he would be smelling like you even days after your heat ended. Honestly, that would be a dream come true for Bucky.

His crush on you was getting stronger rather than dying down. He had tried dating with other people, hooking up or just spend his rut with at least a partner, but he just couldn’t because his body was yearning yours. His lungs were desperate for your sweet, calming scent filling them, his fingers were itching to feel your skin, and his lips were tingling to meet with yours… His whole body had been wanting you, no one else had made him feel this way before.

“God, Y/N,” Bucky breathed. His eyes were now fully black, face darkened with lust and his body heat had increased. He was about to enter his rut, he knew it. Bucky leaned forward and licked a fat line from your collarbone to all the way up to your ear, making your bonding glands throb. You gasped at the feeling.

“Fuck, Bucky!” You sighed, eyes screwed shut. Bucky hummed. His fingers moved south, were quick to find your dripping and aching core, he slipped two of his fingers in you. You moaned. His fingers were moving in and out of you rapidly, thumb pressing lightly on your clit. He could feel the poor thing throb beneath his fingertip, Bucky chuckled against your throat and nipped the skin there. You moaned one more time, but louder, your nails dug them deep into Bucky’s meaty shoulders. Bucky hissed at the slight pain, but all the pain during sex was welcomed in his book.

Bucky pulled his fingers out and pushed off of you, ignoring your little whines. “Present,” he ordered, his voice was still soft even though his commanding tone. Whimpering, you flipped onto your tummy, pressed your chest against the soft linens beneath you and lifted your ass high up on the air. Bucky groaned. “Damn, kitten,” he whispered. You shivered. He placed his hands on your ass, and then moved them up, up, up and slid one of them into your hair. “Do I need a condom?” You nodded.

“Birth control is no good for me,” you panted lightly. Bucky nodded, pressing a kiss on your cheek, he leaned sideways to grab a condom from his bedside drawer. You rubbed your face, wiggled your hips and fisted the bedding as Bucky put on the condom. As soon as he was done, he walked closer to you on his knees and immediately draped his body onto yours. You sighed at the skin-to-skin contact.

“Tell me if you want to or need me to stop because you don’t like what we’re doing, alright?” Bucky murmured. You nodded.

“I will,” you slurred slightly and earned another kiss on your cheek. You hummed happily. You felt the blunt tip of his cock against your wet folds and held your breath. With a smooth, slow thrust of his hips, Bucky slid into you. “Fuuuck,” you sighed, eyes closed and mouth open, drooling just a little bit. The ache in your core was disappeared as soon as Bucky filled you up.

“Goddamn,” Bucky gritted. Your pussy was hugging his hard as hell cock so nicely, Bucky felt like he was being wrapped with the softest blankets to ever exist. Falling onto his elbows, Bucky placed kisses on your bare shoulders. He moved his arms carefully and wrapped them around your torso. One of his hands was wrapped lightly around your neck, and you felt another flame taking over your body with the feeling.

“Move,” you whispered. “Alpha, please, move.” Bucky shushed you gently. Never stopping peppering kisses on your shoulder, neck and cheek, Bucky moved his hips slowly at first. You gasped, head thrown back on Bucky’s shoulder, you closed your eyes.

Your mind was fogged, body wrung tight with sexual frustration and the coil in your belly was burning hotter each passing second. You could feel your heat taking over your body. Bucky’s strong scent was covered with the traces of faint rut, and his scent was clogging up all your senses.

It felt magnificent.

“Alpha,” you moaned when his cock touched a spot in you, your body suddenly waking up. Bucky grunted. His rut was making him a little non-verbal, but he was okay with it. “Faster,” you whimpered. “Faster, harder, alpha, fuck!” The breath knocked out of your lungs with Bucky’s hard thrust.

Grunting and rumbling deep in his chest, Bucky started slamming into you. Your slick was now covering his inner thighs and groin, making these obscene sounds to echo in your room and your skin to stuck each other whenever Bucky’s pelvis kissed yours. You whimpered. Your body was both loosening up and tightening even more as Bucky’s thrusts became harder and deeper. Your body was melting under his, muscles were getting lax because of the rut scent and soft rumbles Bucky was occasionally letting out.

“Mmm,” Bucky hummed, nose poking your bonding glands. “You smell so good, omega,” he murmured, and you shuddered under him. Bucky chuckled darkly. His hot breath licked over your pulse. His short fangs grazed over the sensitive skin, tongue poking out to lick and suck as his pace turned into even something more feral. The sound of skin slapping skin was so loud, you were deafened by it.

You whimpered when you felt his teeth again. You had no fear of Bucky mating you, you knew him enough to know that he wouldn’t do that, but feeling him dragging his fangs up and down like that on your bonding glands was incredibly turning you on. You grabbed onto his arms when he slightly straightened up so that he could drive in you deeper.

“Shit,” you gasped. Bucky growled. His arms around your neck tightened its hold a bit, enough to make you feel every drag of oxygen. “Fuck, Bucky─” His cock was driving in and out of you at a mad pace, balls slapping against your clit and obscene sounds of your wet pussy was driving you even crazier.

With a snarl, Bucky pulled you up against him, flipping you on your back in a matter of seconds. When he slid into your once again, you felt the bulge of his knot at the base of his cock. You gasped, looking down, your mouth hung open on its own. Bucky chuckled.

“That mouth of yours is hungry, ain’t it?” He asked, a filthy smirk on his face. You tried to swallow the spit, but he didn’t let you. He stuffed three of his metal fingers into your mouth. “Suck on’em, honey,” he ordered lovingly. You moaned as you did what you were being told and felt his pace falter for a second. “Fuck.” You hummed around his fingers. His rut scent getting stronger, covering your body, your bed and leaving its mark deep into your bones, you felt like a cat under the sun.

Bucky placed his flesh hand on your pussy. His hips were moving with a rapid pace, your fluids were mixing with his. His thumb found your clit and started to play with it. You cried out. your back arching, you moaned around his fingers, your pussy tightening on his cock. Bucky gasped and grunted. His balls were hurting because of how full they were.

“Come for me,” he whispered. “Fuckin’ come for me, omega,” his harsh whispering voice commanded. You felt your eyes roll back as the pleasure and blinding orgasm took over your body. Bucky cursed as he felt your mouth watering even more around his fingers, pussy walls clamping on his cock and knot. Gasping, Bucky leaned in and pulled his fingers out your mouth so that he could kiss you. Bucky was so close, so fucking close─

“Mmm,” you hummed into his kiss. “C’me f’r me, alpha,” you murmured, placing sloppy kisses on his mouth. “C’mon, breed me, fill me up, make a mess─”

Groaning loudly, Bucky slammed forward one last time before he felt his knot popped. His balls seized so hard, Bucky let out a wounded sound. You shushed him. Placing your hands on his face, you kissed him. He sighed into the kiss as he thrusted in and out of you slowly, fucking his come deeper into you.

“Fuck, honey,” Bucky breathed out when the intense part of his orgasm washed away. You smiled, kissing him again. Bucky kissed you back soundly. “Damn, I’ve never come that hard before,” he said, chuckling.

“Good,” you said. Your scent flaring up with smugness, Bucky laughed.

“Yeah, alright, you’re possessive,” he said with a smile on his face. You felt your cheeks heat up and ducked your head. Bucky continued to smile but couldn’t stop himself from leaning down for another kiss.

After a couple minutes of lazy make-out, Bucky carefully re-arranged your positions so that he could cuddle you without crushing you. You lay like that in silence, feeling content. Your heat and his rut had diminished for the time being, giving you some time to recover. You were playing with his metal hand when the thought struck you.

“Hey,” you murmured, and Bucky hummed as an answer. “What did she say?” You asked him. He made a confused sound.

“Who? About what?”

“You sent me a picture last night and said you were chickening out because she was real nice and you don’t wanna fuck it up,” you explained, a little bit jealousy slipping into your scent. “Did you send her the picture? What did she say?” You felt him freeze momentarily, but then he let out a small chuckle.

“I sent it, yes,” he said. “She said that I look damn good and that I can’t fuck this thing up, not with that picture, and that I’m cute and she’ll understand why I sent it.”

You froze.

“It was intentional,” you murmured. Bucky hummed in approval, kissing your shoulder and tightening his arms around you. “You asshole,” you shrieked, hitting his arm. “You could have just come to me!” Bucky laughed as you hit him again.

“I’m sorry!” He said. “I actually didn’t mean to send you that picture, I swear. I hit send accidentally, but I also said ‘might as well’ afterwards, so,” he murmured, shrugging.

“God, I can’t believe this,” you grumbled. Bucky nuzzled your neck. “I couldn’t sleep last night because of that picture,” you admitted.

Bucky frowned. “Why?”

“I was horny, Bucky,” you said. Bucky let out a loud laugh.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” he murmured, but you knew he wasn’t sorry at all.

“No, you’re not,” you rolled your eyes, pouting at the same time.

“No, I’m not,” he agreed, slowly moving on top of you. “I can make it up, though…” Kissing your cheek, he poked your nose with his playfully. “You said you were horny, right? How about I do something about that?” You smirked.

“I’m in heat, Barnes,” you said. “You better make it up to me.” Bucky smirked right back at you.

“Your wish is my command, m’Queen,” he said, sweeping you into a passionate kiss. 

──

tell me what you think please!!

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes imagines #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes x you #avenger!bucky barnes x reader #alpha!bucky barnes x omega!reader #alpha bucky barnes #a/b/o dynamics #intentional

[spencersawkward]

*house call // wes (Dollface)*

ssummary: when her pet cat gives her a scare, Reader decides to call the vet to make sure everything is going to be okay. 

pairing: Fem!Reader x Wes

word count: 5.4k

content warnings: discussion of cannabis/cannabis consumption, unprotected penetrative sex, use of nicknames (baby, sweetheart), SoftDom!Wes, breeding kink, creampie. 

request: can you do a wes smutty one shot if you’re down?! 

A/N: to be fair, i haven’t watched Dollface in a minute, but i’m obsessed with the domestic vibes that Matthew gives off when he plays Wes and i just thought it would be super cute. anyway, this was super fun also i wanna fuck Wes. ok enjoy!

masterlist

the absolute best part of your day is when the package arrives at your doorstep. you impulse-purchased it about two weeks ago while you were hanging out with one of your close friends, and you've been looking forward to trying it every day since. 

or, really, for your cat to try it. 

you've read reviews and been extremely diligent to make sure the stuff is completely safe, and everything you've seen or read was singing the praises of this cat weed (which isn't actually cannabis at all, but catnip made to look like it).

as you take the cardboard box to the kitchen table and pry open the top with the help of a Swiss army knife, you're grinning. Klimt comes scampering into the room to see what all the fuss is about, sitting at your feet with his tail curled around his legs. 

"no peeking." you scold him gently. your kitten, the friendliest little rescue tabby around, simply stares blankly back. when you remove the wrapping from the glass jar and stare at it up close, you're impressed by how realistic it looks. the label shows cat-friendly ingredients only, but you unscrew the top and get a whiff of catnip. 

Klimt begins to weave in between your legs, nudging them affectionately and beginning to purr. you giggle and bend down to give him a few pets. his nose twitches; he tries to sniff at the foreign object, but you put it back on the table. 

"don't be greedy, babe." you scratch between his pointed ears and he lets out a whiny meow. 

it's about his dinner time, and you were hoping to give him his treat tonight after he finishes his dry food. so you make yourself something simple with the leftovers in your fridge and do some more work on your laptop while you two eat together. 

you've had Klimt for a while, now. you call him a kitten even though he's a full-grown cat-- he's just as playful and enthusiastic as any newborn. his eyes are the color of meadow grass, and his nose is scattered with tiny freckles. it makes him look like he's just come from digging around the backyard, but it really just adds to his charm. 

not to mention his ceaselessly social tendencies: Klimt is always around when your friends come over, worming his way in between you or sitting on one of the free chair cushions to listen. you wonder if he knows what you're saying sometimes, because when you talk about the embarrassing things you've done that day or the failed interactions you've had, he always lifts his head to give you something of a judgmental stare. 

once you've settled down for the evening and turned on the TV, you decide that now is the time. Klimt is aimlessly poking at a few of his toys. he bats at a fake mouse between his paws.

"kitten," you click your tongue and get up to grab the jar. "are you ready to try this stuff?" 

as if he's going to answer. he hears your footsteps coming back his way and watches patiently. it's only when you pour out a little bit in front of him that he gets curious about the stuff. you admire his movements as he bends down and examines. 

although you keep an eye on him while watching your show, you don't notice much of a change in him. he starts to roll about on the floor, which is to be expected, but it's only when he starts to chase around his fake mouse that things get interesting. 

you laugh as Klimt goes nuts, jumping back and attacking the thing like he's ready to come in for the kill. it's really funny, but you're interrupted by your phone buzzing. you told your friend that you were doing this tonight. 

"hi!" you answer the FaceTime call right away. 

"how is he?" you can hear the smile in Andi's voice as you turn the camera. 

"he's loving it." 

"oh my god," she laughs. Klimt arches his back, leaping so highly in the air, you raise your eyebrows. "I wonder how long it'll last." she muses. 

"I'm guessing we'll get about an hour more of this before he passes out for the next two days." you joke. he gets strong bursts of energy usually, but they only last so long until he's curled up on the window sill or in your bed. 

Andi and you talk for a while as Klimt tires himself out and plays with all of his favorite toys. you dangle a string in front of him for a decent amount of time, too, just to make him get up on his hindquarters. he's a natural entertainer, a lithe little thing who lets out a few irritated meows to demonstrate his impertinence. 

after about forty-five minutes, however, you notice your cat's behavior change. he keeps raising his hackles and rolling about, and something about it makes you nervous. he doesn't usually act like this, not even when he plays with the other catnip toys he's accumulated. 

"what's wrong?" Andi notes your furrowed brow as you look past the camera of your phone and at your pet. 

"he's just acting really weird," you pat the couch cushion to call him over, but he doesn't even glance up. "I don't know why." 

"maybe it's the cat weed." she suggests. you purse your lips and try to think. 

"yeah, but nobody in the reviews ever mentioned anything like this."

"I'm sure he's fine, Y/N."  

"yeah, I know..." but you're worried. Klimt is your pal, your cuddle buddy. as he rubs his cheek against the wooden floor, you feel guilt pool in your stomach. if he's hurt because of some dumb online purchase, you're never going to forgive yourself. "I'm gonna call the vet just to be sure."  

"oh, okay," she sounds surprised, but doesn't try to stop you. "let me know what they say." 

"I will." you hang up the phone and stare at your companion for a few seconds. he leaps into the air and does a somersault before letting out some deeply disturbing whine that reminds you to call the vet. better safe than sorry.  

...

when the doorbell rings, you're practically twiddling your thumbs anxiously. Klimt hasn't settled at all, and you haven't even bothered to change out of your lounging ensemble. you're pretty sure you look a mess, but hopefully the person won't care too much. 

you don't know who to expect-- your usual vet is an older woman who is friends with your mom, but her receptionist said she was out tonight and would send over another vet to check it out. 

when you swing open the door, you immediately regret the decision to stay in sweatpants. 

"hi, I'm Wes." the guy gives you a friendly smile and holds up his bag. it's almost comically old-fashioned, something out of an old movie, and you half-expect him to be wearing a stethoscope around his neck. 

he's gorgeous, though. definitely a good amount older than you, tall with brown curls and stubble. his features stand out to you even under the porch light, and your mouth guppies idiotically. 

"hi," you manage. his eyes flicker to your hand, which is seemingly blocking him from coming inside the house, and you jolt back a little to let him in. you clear your throat. "sorry." 

as he steps inside and you close the door behind him, getting one tiny moment to yourself, your eyes widen. way to make yourself look like a bumbling fool. 

"I heard that there's a tabby who got into some catnip?" you catch him looking around the front of your house, eyes catching on the framed photos before finding yours again. you can feel the heat creeping up your cheeks, but nod confidently.  

"yeah, Klimt. he should still be in the living room." 

"Klimt? like the artist?" he chuckles and follows you into the rest of the home. his voice has a nice timbre to it, something low and gentle that fits well with his occupation.  

"yeah, exactly." you turn to smile at him. 

you hear the cat before you see him. he's climbed to the top of his cat tree and leaps down onto the ground, paws hitting the surface in a way that can't have been comfortable. he chirps and looks up at Wes, whose lips are turned up with amusement.    

"are you the man of the hour?" he asks, approaching the cat. Klimt's pupils get enormous and he prepares to pounce on the newcomer. 

"careful--" you start to warn him, but the cat launches himself right into Wes' arms. the vet turns to you, holding him to his chest, and grins. warmth spreads over your skin with embarrassment. "sorry." 

"no need to apologize," he starts to pet Klimt, who is only slightly struggling to escape. he wants to go wild again, but Wes isn't going to let go. "they call me the Cat Wrangler at the office." 

"really?" you snort. he brings your pet over to the couch and sets him on the cushions, careful to keep him in place. 

"no way." he shoots you a dazzling smile. the joke makes you giggle, and you feel yourself become even more self-conscious about the outfit you're wearing. this is just your luck, having hot guys come over when you distinctly look your worst. 

Wes scratches between Klimt's ears and glances up at you again. "is there any reason in particular you're worried about the catnip?" 

"yeah, actually," you nod, brought back to reality. "I know it's supposed to make them more playful, but he's just been acting weird and I got worried that there was something in it that messed with his head." 

"can I see the container for it?" he asks. you go to grab the jar, only to remember that it proudly announces itself as cannabis for cats. profound embarrassment causes you to hesitate with the stuff in your hands. 

it's not like he's here for you to flirt with, but you're still thinking about how stupid and young you're going to look with this stuff in front of him, a hot older guy who seems to have his life under control. you peek at him once more from the kitchen, at the way he smiles and starts to talk softly to Klimt as if he were a peer. 

he's kinda crazy, and it makes you smile. 

"it's cat weed." you hand him the glass container, and Wes breaks into a grin as he looks at the front. 

"oh my gosh, I've heard about this!" his eyes move quickly over the label. you're in shock. 

"really?"

"yeah, it's hilarious. here, can you make sure our friend here doesn't move while I read the ingredients?" he gestures. the knot of anxiety within you loosens a bit. you nod obediently, going to scoop up your pet and sit him on your lap. he's still squirmy, but he doesn't look ready to attack either of you, thankfully. 

"hey, you." you greet your pal affectionately. his tail is wagging impatiently while Wes kneels on the ground beside the couch. there's a silver ring on his finger, but you notice with relief that it's not on his fourth one. 

when he sets the jar down on the coffee table with the kind of smile that hints at some secret amusement, you frown. "what?"

"nothing," he shakes his head. "Klimt is gonna be totally fine."

"are you sure?" you pet the feline's smooth coat. 

"definitely. you know how drugs affect people differently?" he asks. you want to say no, you don't know that because why would you, but then you remember that there is quite literally a glass-blown bowl sitting on your kitchen table. 

"sure." you reply honestly. 

"it's the same with cats: some just feel the effects a little more." he shrugs. you think this over for a second. 

"that makes sense." 

"yeah, I'd estimate about an hour more of this wildcat behavior before he takes a ten-hour nap." he cracks another joke and you find yourself totally charmed by him. something about the way he talks just makes your heart beat like crazy.  

"that's a relief." 

he chuckles and stands up, grabbing the bag (which he never even had to use) and starting to walk out of the living room. you can smell his delicious cologne as he moves past you.  

"sorry for making you come out here so late." you apologize from the couch. Wes turns to look at you with an easygoing expression. his free hand is tucked into his pocket.  

"no worries. you have a lovely home." he gestures to the kitchen, and then at the bowl sitting there in the open. you have to fight the smile on your face.  

"thanks." you're smirking. right before he's about to head back out, you ask a question that's been wriggling around in your mind since he arrived. "why no title?" 

"you mean, like, Doctor or something?" he stops in the threshold. one hand leans against it while he answers your question. you still can't get over how tall he is. 

"sure. I mean, you are a doctor, right?" it comes out more dubious than you intended, but he doesn't get offended, only smiles. 

"yes, I'm a doctor. I went to Davis." he points like the school is right outside your door. you nod.  

"cool." 

there's a silence where you just look at each other, and you forget that you look like you just rolled out of bed. he clears his throat. 

"to answer your question, I just go by Wes because you're not my patient-- Klimt is." he points to the kitten, who is now chasing his own tail like a dog. you snort at the sight. 

"how humble of you." 

"I know, right?" he's joking. you find yourself not wanting him to leave, even though you've really just met. he's so sweet and funny and handsome... your stomach is flipping over and over like a schoolgirl. 

and it's stupid that you can't think of one plausible reason for him to stay, but every step he takes shortens your time to think. so you just blurt, instead. 

"would you want a beer?" 

Wes pauses and looks at you, an unreadable expression on his face. "a beer?" 

"yeah, I mean... you came all the way out here and I just feel bad for causing a fuss over nothing." you scramble slightly to justify your words. you don't ever drink beer-- do you even have any? god, this is embarrassing.  

the vet checks the watch on his wrist, then smiles at you with a halting kind of enjoyment, before nodding. "sure." 

"okay, great." you turn on your heel to hide the grin on your face. he follows you again to the kitchen area and leans against the counter while you open the fridge. the best form of flirting you can manage right now is bending over shamelessly and taking your time to poke around. 

thankfully, there are three cold bottles left towards the back. you take out two and use the tool in one of your drawers to pop the tops off. he watches patiently, takes a sip when you hand the drink to him. your eyes meet. 

"so, what prompted the cat weed purchase?" he starts the conversation effortlessly, and you try to keep your eyes from wandering over the shape of him. now that he's just standing in front of you, you're noticing the way his sweater sits against his frame, his long legs and the way his head rests on an elegantly-proportioned neck. 

"I just saw it and thought it would be fun." you shrug honestly. he smiles.  

"do you think you're gonna let him try it again another time?"  

"I don't know," you cross your arms over your chest. "I'm a little nervous, but he also was having a lot of fun until I made him sit still." 

"fair enough." you both turn your gazes to the cat. he's nudging a little toy ball with his nose and watching it roll across the floor. there are tiny bells inside that jingle. Wes turns back to you. "what do you do?"

"graphic designer." 

"an artist." he raises his brows, impressed. 

"not exactly saving animal lives, but I get by." you take another sip of your drink. 

"it's not like that, mostly." he rolls his eyes playfully. 

"then what's it like?"

"I just see and talk to people's pets all day. it's a pretty great job, even when it's not. you know?" he's optimistic about it. you're drawn to his positive energy, to the way he smiles when he speaks like he's preparing to deliver a witty joke. 

 you're hopelessly attracted to him, and the space between you is becoming unbearable. even though he's a guy you just met, you can feel in your gut that something about this is just right. you want his body against yours. 

 "you okay?" he breaks what you only now realize is a silence, and you blink to clear the dirty images from your mind. 

"yeah." only thinking about you fucking me against a countertop. it must be the fact that you haven't gotten laid in a while or something, because you usually aren't this attracted to people within the first hour. it takes longer for you to even want to kiss them.  

"what kind of stuff do you design?" he seems genuinely interested as he shifts and continues to nurse his drink.  

"I work for a tech startup downtown, so it's a lot of website work to make sure it's navigable and pretty." you try to sum up your duties, but it's hard when his hazel eyes are so intent. he listens to every word.  

"do you do personal work, too? like, just for you?" 

"actually, yeah!" this sparks your excitement. 

"can I see?" his smile widens. "only if you're comfortable, of course."  

"sure." you're beaming.  

he stays put as you start to go out of the kitchen, but then you smile. "you can come with." 

"oh." he sets his beer down on the counter and follows you, slightly surprised. but you don't care; you were nervous before, but he's stayed for this long. maybe he wants you, too. 

once you get to your bedroom, you're grateful that it's been freshly cleaned. there's even a bouquet from the flower's market sitting on your dresser, and you head over to the desk to sift through the drawers for what you want. 

"cool room." he compliments from the threshold. he's careful not to make you uncomfortable, but also can't resist the curiosity that draws his gaze from wall to wall. you find the stack of papers and smile. 

"thanks," you place the folder in his hands. "these are some printed versions of stuff I did last year." 

Wes immediately begins to flip through the art. him seeing your stuff makes you nervous, so you pretend to focus on straightening up the few items that sit on your desk. you wipe your fingertip over a nonexistent film of dust. 

"these are amazing," he says, holding a card stock copy in between his index and middle fingers. "holy shit."

"thank you." you're trying to keep from smiling too hard. you can tell that he's being genuine with his compliments, and it makes your heart swell. 

"definitely. are you showing anywhere?" 

"at an exhibit downtown a couple months back, but I've been so busy with work that personal stuff hasn't really been on the table, you know?"

he nods in understanding and continues to go through until the end. when he's finished, he looks up and sees you, his eyes concentrated. he doesn't speak at first, and an undercurrent ripples across the room. there are about three feet between you, and you have no excuse to lessen it. 

he licks his lips slowly. you purse yours, unsure of what to say. 

"I'm glad you called tonight." his voice is lower, slightly uncertain, like he's testing the boundaries. except you don't want boundaries right now. you want to go wild on him. 

"me, too." you reply. it's in your eyes, that begging for him to do what you're scared to initiate. 

your tongue is pressed to the back of your teeth in anticipation. and when he sets the art back on your desk and comes closer, you feel yourself give in. bubbles of excitement travel up your body as he grabs your face and bends down to kiss you. 

it's full, passionate, not the kind of kiss you give someone you've just met. laced with desire and longing, you respond immediately. hands immediately run to his forearms, over his shoulders as he imposes beautifully on your form. it's so hard, you lean back slightly. your torso presses against his until he pushes you against the wall. 

the slight gasp that escapes your lips causes him to smile, followed by your moan and clutching fingers. the material of his sweater, the taste of him mingled with that sophisticated, gentle smell of cologne that you want printed all over your skin. 

"come here." he murmurs against your mouth and reaches down to the back of your thigh so you can hook your leg around his waist. you whine at the easy access he has to grind against your core, both of you desperate. 

"Wes." you pant into his open mouth. he sucks on your bottom lip before finding your cheek and jaw. his fingertips tighten around your flesh. 

"this feel good, sweetheart?" he checks in. coincidentally, his jeans grind against your panties at exactly the right spot and your hips jump. you release a pleasured yelp. 

"mhmm." 

"sounds like it." he latches onto your throat with a possessive excitement. you can feel him sucking and biting at the skin until you're positive there'll be marks tomorrow. you hope there are; purpled evidence of his touch. he digs his nails into your thighs. "you like it when older men touch you, baby?" 

he blows over your tender throat before attacking it again. you sigh contentedly at the way he mingles sensations for your pleasure. "yes." 

he grunts and nips at your collarbone, sliding the strap of your top down your shoulder so that he can effortlessly flutter his lips over the skin. you grip at him and toss your head back against the wall. his weight on yours is divine. it makes you weak, but that doesn't matter. he's practically holding you up at this point. 

when his hand pushes under the hem of your shirt and dances over your stomach, you arch your back for more. he's gentle yet firm, pulling you close like he wants to breathe your oxygen. he's tracing over your ribcage, all the way up to the valley of your breasts, before cupping one and moaning into your shoulder. 

he kisses you again with an aching hunger that can't be satiated. your tongues meet and Wes finds your hardened nipples beneath the thin fabric of your bralette. you sigh while he starts to circle one with his thumb.  

"you're perfect." he breathes. 

you want to bask in this moment, to enjoy the shock across your skin when he reaches his hand back down between your bodies to dip below the waistband of your sweatpants, but you're just so greedy. he could make you cum over and over and it would never be enough. 

"what do you want me to do to you?" Wes is hovering over your lower stomach, dangerously close to where you need him most. he's teasing. the warmth of his skin drives you mad. his breath brushes over the shell of your ear. 

"fuck me." it's the only response you can fathom. every other instinct in your body flies out the window and is replaced by a craving to sink your proverbial (and literal) teeth into him.

but he loves it, apparently, because he pushes you back against the wall with a nearly bruising force. "I can do that." 

with those words, he quickly grabs your other leg and lifts you into his arms, bringing you to the bed and laying you delicately on the mattress while you giggle. you stare up at him with an almost daydreamy lust. his cheeks are flushed. 

you only get a second of that heavenly sight, though, before he dips down and pushes your shirt up to see your tits and kiss up the chasm between your ribs. his stubble tickles your skin, which causes you to smile. 

by the time he's pulled your sweatpants off and tossed them to the side, you're whining for him to strip down as well. 

"what is it, pretty girl?" he murmurs against your tummy. when you try to squeeze your thighs, he pushes them apart. 

"I wanna see you." your fingertips touch at his sweater. he chuckles and pulls the garment over his head. it messes up his perfect hair even more and you love it, tangling your fingers in it. he bites his lip. 

"do you want me to taste you first?" he keeps stroking the inside of your thighs and staring down at the skimpy lace that you're positive that you've already soaked. you're making him crazy with the way you roll your hips against air, against nothing, seeking any kind of stimulation. 

"I can't wait." you shake your head. as nice as it would be, you're going to implode if he doesn't fill you up soon. he drags his fingers down your clothed slit and groans when he feels just how ready you are for him. 

"let's take these off then, okay, sweetheart?" he hooks his fingers in the panties and waits for you to nod before tugging them down your legs. you whimper at the cool air that hits your core, soaked and needy. Wes stares at your body on display for him. 

as he gets back up from the floor to kiss you again, you both work to remove the rest of his clothes. his skin is perfect under your hands. his chest is warm, solid, and when he climbs on top of you, his arms rest on either side of your head.

one hand comes down to grab his own cock and stroke it a few times before lowering himself to rub it against your throbbing clit. you whimper at the pressure; he's mindless when he feels how easily you cover him in your essence. 

"so fucking wet..." he groans while rutting against you. 

"Wes, please--" your breath hitches. "put it in." 

"begging?" he teases your entrance with the head and smirks. "good girl." 

"mhmm." you're smiling, but your mouth drops open when he pushes himself inside. 

it's a heavy feeling, him filling you up. he's thick and the stretching of your walls makes him groan and rest his head on your shoulder. he kisses the skin there while diving deeper into your body. 

you're shaking slightly from the mixture of pain and pleasure, his size forcing your body to work quickly to accommodate. your eyes are squeezed shut, but you run your hands over his back and shoulders to stay grounded. it feels like a dream. 

he starts to pull out, coated in your wetness while you whimper below him, and he grabs your face with one hand in a dominant, soft gesture. "okay?"

"yeah." 

he pushes back in. the air in your lungs is practically gone at this point, he's so deep inside. your eyes roll back and push your hips up to take him at a new angle. Wes finds his pace easily, rocking into your body at a manageable pace to let you get used to the sensation. 

every time his hips roll down and he buries himself in you, he presses on your clit and sends a new shock through your body. he leans on his elbows to get closer and feel every undulation of your body. you love how his thrusts force your legs apart, how he moans your name and causes the headboard to repeatedly hit the wall while maintaining eye contact. hazel irises that rake over your features with lust. 

"you feel so good." he speeds up a little when he hits a certain spot. you can feel him deep and hard, causing a small bump to rise in your stomach with each stroke. his voice is husky and dark. like a man starved. 

"fuck..." you drag your nails down his back. he groans at the red marks that you will no doubt leave for him. 

"clingy thing, huh?" he sucks at your throat affectionately. "I come over for one thing and you can't help yourself." 

hearing Wes speak through his own panting is like listening to a secret, and you never want it to stop. he's reveling in the sordid crush of his own wants, and the way he shoves into you shows you that he has no intention of slowing down for a while. 

"I'm impatient." you smirk. he pulls away to admire your expression. 

"so am I." he kisses your lips and starts to pound into you. the juxtaposition of his tenderness and the sharp snap of his hips to yours fills you with butterflies. you love how much he wants to ruin you. 

"Wes-- oh my god!" you whimper. he grabs your hips and yanks them closer to him so he can go as deep as possible, so he can hit your cervix. 

"that's right, sweetheart," he pants. you can tell that he's starting to lose control. "say my name. I want everyone to know what a good little slut you are for me." 

the commanding tone makes your body shake. "I- I'm cumming, Wes, please--"

"please what, baby?" he taunts. his index finger is tracing over your jaw. 

you don't know what it is that you're wanting, except more. as your form shudders and tightens, walls fluttering around his cock, you lose the capacity to speak. you grind your hips against him and cry out pathetically while he pushes you back down and slams ruthlessly into your pussy. 

"cum inside-- please, I need it--" you writhe. he groans at the request. 

"fuck, yes..." he sheathes himself. "take it."

you gasp as he repeatedly hits your weakest point and spills hot ropes of his cum inside you, still thrusting in and out and whimpering into your shoulder at the clenching sensation you give his cock. it's warm, strangely delightful, nearly sending you into another orgasm sheerly from the sight. 

he mutters unintelligibly as he empties himself in your pussy, but you catch a growled "so needy," between deep moans. you're clinging to him like you'll never have it again. you might not. 

he slows down, giving shallower thrusts while riding out his high and shoving his cum deeper inside. it turns lazy and messy, both of you panting, before he finally pulls out and rolls over next to you. 

you press the back of your hand to your forehead. it's sweaty from all the work he just put you through, but you feel amazing at the same time. your eyes keep flickering from the ceiling above to his rising and falling chest beside you. his nose twitches; he turns his head to look at your face. 

although you expect him to say something, he doesn't. instead, you just stare at each other. the air conditioner rattles gently in the background. you're not sure how long this lasts, this soaking in, but he's the first to break it. 

"hey." 

you find the corners of your lips turning up. "hi." 

"do you mind if I go get something to clean you up?" he asks softly, his fingertips finding your forearm with ease and drifting over it.

"sure. bathroom is the first door on the left." 

he gets up and you watch him gather his clothes, eyes glued to his perfect form. you can't believe you just had sex with your veterinarian. you don't regret it at all. 

he wanders out of the room and your eyes follow, only to see Klimt sitting patiently by the door. 

"what are you doing, perv?" you tease as he comes over and leaps up onto the bed. his kitten paws pad over the blankets and settle into the crook of your arm. you smile to yourself, recalling how sweet the vet was with him. "hey, Wes?" you call out. 

"yeah?" he comes back into the room with a warm washcloth and a small smile on his face. 

"would you wanna get coffee or something sometime?" you bite your lip. maybe he doesn't want to go on a date, but it's worth a shot.

"sure." he breaks into a grin that makes you giddy. thank god, because you really were hoping to see him again. 

you can't wait.  

taglist (lmk about adding/removal or add yourself to the list here!): @jareids @reidsconverse @xoxomgg @may-b-a-u-shewritestoo @la-vie-en-amour1 @g0lden-cth @treat-winchesterswith-kindness @kisseslikecoffee @spenxerslut @slutforthegubes @spookydrreid @depressedgothgrl @flipper-kisses @multixfandomwriter​ @willowrose99​ @gingeraleluke​ @chasemoonlight​ @spencerreid9​ 

#matthew gray gubler #mgg #mgg x reader #wes x reader #wes dollface #mgg smut #mgg fluff #mgg character smut #mgg characters #dollface

[alilbihh]

hocus pocus — 3

masterlist  previous part  next part

pairing: maknae line x reader

summary: jungkook wags his tail and his eyes look like truffles. jimin drinks blood out of juice boxes and bendy straws and tries to wink but ends up blinking both his eyes closed. taehyung likes the ocean and all kinds of art and apologizes to rocks. you don’t know if they want to take you out the date way or the assassination way and somehow you think it’s both.

genre: werewolf!jungkook, vampire!jimin, hybrid!taehyung, witch!reader; humor (??); poly!au (in the future!)

words: 14k

There’s a caw by your window, a fluttering of feathers. A knock on the glass. You lift your head warily, eyes squinted, still stuck in a sort of dissociative post-morning state. One, two.. Eight. There are eight crows outside your window.

Crows are often seen as bad luck, omens of death - but people forget they could mean good news. Upcoming wealth. New beginnings.

You watch them for a long while, still under the comforting weight of your quilt, until there’s a sound and the flock flies away with a flourish.

There are eight crows by your window. A sign of a life altering experience soon to cross your path.

You close your eyes and burrow deeper into your pillow.

You think you fall in love the same way you fell into Petz. Accidentally and while making a fool of yourself.

Namjoon comes running over, phone in hand. He frowns. “Did you just trip and I didn’t see? Dammit. This is what happens when I volunteer to take cute pictures of puppies for Jin-hyung. Do it again.”

“I will not.” You say as you right yourself, walking inside the pet store properly this time. Namjoon steps inside behind you, cleaning his shoes over the carpet for more time than necessary.

The pet store is large and cozy and has puppies. It’s everything you expected but you’re still caught by surprise. Namjoon looks around in wonder, only really here under the pretense of wanting a fish but when you turn he’s cooing at a barking labrador, his hands and cheek pressed to the glass.

“Do you think Kimbap would mind if we got a dog?”

Your brows furrow, watching the labrador from beside Namjoon. The dog paws at the glass, and Namjoon boops at where its nose is.

“Kimbap is a cat.”

“He is.” Is all Namjoon says and that’s that.

You leave him to his fantasies as you walk around, not a worker in sight. No one in sight, really. By now you’d expected to be jumped by someone with a Petz logo on their shirt and convinced to buy an entire alpaca farm and multiple chew toys for a dog you don’t even have, but it’s completely void of people.

You pass by puppy cages and reptile tanks and find the fish, too, before you find a single person. You wonder if you came to the wrong pet store. Jimin said he volunteers here, but maybe it’s another Petz entirely. You suddenly hear a commotion somewhere in the back rooms, so you head there, hoping to find someone.

And you do find someone. His back is facing you and there’s no logo on his shirt but there are, like, three to four kittens clinging to his arms, so he’s either thinking of adopting all of them or you’re witnessing the beginning of an abduction.

The kittens are clutching at his arms and emitting tiny meows as he sets them into their little cat houses, muttering something to them but you can’t make out the soft words and you’re distantly aware you’re staring. Not just at the kitten’s heads poking out through the arms but at like- the actual arms. They’re tanned and muscular and have kittens on them. This is just devastating.

He looks up and straightens and it’s three seconds before he turns to you that you notice the antlers on his head and the boxy smile. Oh no.

The boy suddenly stands as straight as a board as his eyes meet yours. His hair is as blue as the ocean he loves so much. There’s a streak of kohl over his lashes that’s a bit smudged on one side, as though he forgot about it and wiped his eye.

There’s only one kitten on his arm now, black fur tipped with brown and almost dozing off, all curled up and comfy. He raises its paw in a little wave. “Hi.”

You don’t know what to do. He doesn’t mention that he knows you, doesn’t even look too surprised, only smiles like this was inevitable. It makes you smile, too. “Hi.”

“Are you here to adopt?” He says- Taehyung says, your mind supplies even though you didn’t ask it to- tickling at the kitten’s tummy as he does, “A kitten, maybe?”

No you are not, you’re definitely not. "Um. Maybe,“ you answer, stepping in closer.

Taehyung stares at the kitten cradled in his chest for a little while longer before turning, gingerly placing it with the rest. He brushes a finger lightly over its head before stepping back and you’re now absolutely devastated.

The boy bites at his lower lip, considering you with narrowed eyes. "A reptile, maybe..” He mutters, more to himself than anything. “Come!”

He takes your hand, quick and excited but soft as he tangles his fingers between yours. Good god.

The deer hybrid leads you to the reptile tanks, pauses by one, tap tap taps at the glass and you both watch as one of its inhabitants comes padding out with surprising agility.

“That’s Guac! She’s a bearded dragon and is also very much pregnant. Me and Jiminie consider stealing her every day.”

You laugh, staring at the reptile’s beady eyes as she blinks, one eye then the other. “She’s pregnant?” Guac doesn’t look at all pregnant at first glance, but there’s a slight bump on her stomach that you have to squint to even notice.

“I was surprised too! She was alone in her enclosure and we still have no idea how the dude got in there to impregnate her. Kookie said something about horniness surpassing all boundaries, but, well. I have no comment on that.”

“He is a menace I am so sorry.” You say but you’re laughing and it makes him laugh, too. “You know Guk?”

Taehyung makes a soft sound as he opens the enclosure, like a hum and a yeah all rolled into one. You watch as he picks up Guac as he would the kittens, soft and gentle and fond. You think he’s like that with everything. You think you’re looking at him like that, too. “Kook visits every so often. He’s cute and funny and has a boopable nose and gave me a rock. Oh!” He startles, raises a hand over his mouth. “Not a rock. Sorry. Crystal,” he corrects.

He’s rocking the bearded dragon softly like he would a baby, bouncing it lightly in his arms. Guac doesn’t seem to mind. You’re fully endeared.

“Did Guk tell you that?” You tickle under Guac’s chin and it makes Taehyung giggle.

“Yeah,” he smiles, bordering on fond. Kisses Guac’s head before placing her back in the tank, watching as she scampers back to the little cave by the corner. Too fast for a pregnant lady, you think, but who are you to judge. “He talks about you a lot, you know,” He whispers, like you’re being let in on a secret. Turns to you with an expression you can’t quite decipher.

You don’t know what to say to that and you don’t want to regret it if you do, so you only nod.

There’s a shout and Taehyung’s head jerks up, smiles something wide and giddy, spots Jimin before even you do. He dashes past you before he’s jumping half on Jimin, tugging him towards you, and then jumping half on you too for no reason except maybe that he can, pulls Jimin in for a soft kiss that goes long and flushes both their cheeks and leaves them both breathless and giggly and there it is-

a little pang.

You scratch at your chest, look around, spot Namjoon idling by the tanks where a school of fish whiz by. Namjoon’s a doctor. A sorta-doctor. An actual witch. A little bit of a seer, if he thinks hard. He knows cardiac arrest and medicine and sickness symptoms and the like. He’ll know you’re dying.

Or he’ll catch you staring, turn, and send suggestive eyebrow raises before scampering back towards the puppy section. Great. Amazing.

“You look happy,” Is all Yoongi says as you slam your stack of books onto the table, sitting opposite him with a huff. He looks soft today, an earring shining from the peak of one pointed ear.

He’s joking, he has to be. Your clothes are a wrinkly mess and your hair’s disheveled and you think you need, like, a mint. Maybe two. But he’s looking at you like he knows something that you don’t. So you don’t say anything, only blow a few raspberries in his direction.

You open a spell book, skimming through it with hasty eyes. The photographic memory potion would be really useful right now, its side effects maybe even more.

“Don’t you have finals soon?” Namjoon mutters beside you, and you look up with a start because you hadn’t even seen him get here.

When did he get here. “When did you get here?” You ask out loud.

“I was always here,” is all he says. You think you’re in a fever dream but you’re not too sure.

“Huh,” You breathe out, looking into the distance.

You look back down at your book. Phoenix feathers, lemon, dragon liver… Dirt? Graveyard dirt? Where are you supposed to get graveyard dirt?

“Namjoon. Joonie. Buddy ole pal.” Looking up at the man from beneath your lashes, you flutter them a bit for a better effect. The man, very much gay and very much in a committed relationship, doesn’t really look amused. “Do you wanna go to a graveyard with me?”

Yoongi looks up with a start, “Oh shit, who are we killing? Who are we burying?”

“What? No one, you absolute heathen. I need it for a potion. Witchipedia says so.”

“It’s not a reliable source,” Namjoon exclaims with a frown. “I gave up on it after it made me burn my frying pan.”

“How does one burn a frying pan,” You deadpan. The man shrugs.

It’s as you’re flipping through pages absentmindedly that your thoughts stray to your dinner not-date. Should you bring drinks? You should probably bring drinks. You wonder what kind of drinks they like.

“Should I bring drinks?” You mutter out loud. The duo’s heads turn towards you.

“For your dinner date?” Namjoon grins, and of course Yoongi told him. You glare at the faerie, and he smiles cheekily. Namjoon continues when you don’t bother correcting him, “You should buy wine. It’s a sexy drink.”

“Namjoon!” You exclaim, horrified. He giggles a bit sporadically. Yoongi just keeps smiling at you, just a bit too close to looking fond.

Faeries can sense auras better, even, than witches. Faeries can see it with only a glance, blues or reds or pinks hovering just over your form. Pinks can be admiration, confidence, love. Yellows can be envy, lust, cruelty. Wine red means only one thing; a red, ugly fury. It’s Yoongi’s least favorite color.

You can’t imagine what it’s like to see an overwhelming amount of colors every day against your will, but Yoongi likes to joke that there’s at least a little color to his life.

Witches are different. Witches sense auras completely based on a whim, a hunch. Sometimes you walk past a complete stranger and are keenly aware of what they’re feeling - and sometimes when Jungkook laughs too hard you taste something akin to cherries, hidden just under your tongue.

Yoongi’s a bit like mangoes. Hoseok is a little bit of everything, a little bit of cinnamon here and a little bit of blueberries there. Jin is a bit like cookie dough and Namjoon is a lot like chamomile tea. Jimin -

Jimin is sweet. Something sweet you can’t quite describe. Like sweaters straight out the dryer and the first spring morning where there’s no frost, only dew. You wonder what Taehyung’s happiness would taste like, wonder if it’s just as sweet.

“Your aura’s pink.” Yoongi mutters with a knowing smile, lips curled just the slightest bit. You slam your book closed with more force than necessary, and he laughs heartily as all the blood rushes to your cheeks.

“No it’s not shut up.” You grab a random book you’d separated and hide underneath it, hoping your cheeks aren’t as pink as your aura.

It’s a while later that you find the solution, only after reading through multiple ingredient guides (including the advantages of using dirt), three books for safe potion usage and two potion textbooks. It’s nestled under a glossary for everyday ingredients, and the pages are printed in the obnoxiously indecipherable cursive that witches tend to use.

Namjoon is long gone, carrying with him a stack of books that go past his head and nearly tower over his form. Hoseok appeared seemingly out of thin air, sat between you and Yoongi and flip, flip, flipping through his book, not quite reading like he’s supposed to but it’s okay. He doesn’t read a lot, just tends to learn in that intuitive way of his.

Hoseok laughs heartily at something Yoongi says and hops excitedly in his seat, the pixie perched on his shoulder squealing and gripping onto his shirt sleeve helplessly. He turns, coos, plucks a petal from the posy of daisies in the vase on the center of the table, delicately offers it with pouted lips. The pixie playfully nips at his thumb before snatching the petal from between his offering fingers and taking a bite– tiny hands smaller, even, than the size of his thumbnail.

The merman laughs and you’re absolutely enamored. With what, you don’t know. Maybe with how easy it was for them despite their difference in size, despite their lack of communication. It continually amazes you how important words can be and how at times they’re not needed at all.

The liquor store is big and intimidating and has one too many wines.

“You looking for something specific?” the lady behind the counter asks. She has soft eyes and her hair’s tied in a bun.

“Uh, wine, I guess.” You stammer.

“Can’t pick?” She’s rearranging the bottles on display behind her as she speaks over her shoulder, the glasses clinking together almost melodically. “Any special occasion?”

“Um.” You pause. “No?”

She quirks a brow.

You feel all the blood rush to your cheeks as you elaborate, “It’s for my familiar’s friends, that I guess are also my friends now, and I wasn’t going to bring anything but my other friend said I should bring wine, and I don’t want to look like a complete scrub in front of them but I don’t know anything about wine so I guess I am. A complete scrub.”

The lady laughs and you guess that your moment of oversharing is the moment you blacklist the liquor store and everything it stands for.

“What about sparkling wine?” She offers. She continues at your confused blinks, “It has bubbles.”

“Um. Sure. I mean. I like bubbles.”

So you show her your ID and pay for your wine and she packs it neatly into a bag. “Good luck with your familiar’s friends,” she says with an almost knowing smile as she hands the wine over, and you just nod because you don’t trust your voice not to squeak at that.

It’s another day. The day. You blink slowly awake and when you look outside your window it’s still dark out and you think you can feel Jungkook somewhere nearby, probably lying restless in his room.

You blink. The crow outside your window blinks back. There are nine crows outside this time, sitting around and staring as if they’re waiting for you to notice them. Nine crows. Positive recognition.

You groan and squeeze your eyes closed so hard you see colors.

(Love. Nine crows could also mean love).

You look at the door number. Then back down at the address on your phone. Then back up at the door. Down again.

Jungkook groans from beside you, tail flicking in slight irritation behind him. Or maybe it’s nervousness. Maybe even excitement. “Can’t we go in already?” He groans, crossing his arms over his chest.

You nod and nod and nod but don’t do anything. Jungkook uncrosses his arms at that, sighs, pats your head fondly but you swat his hand away anyway. “Are you nervous?” He asks, his hands combing through your hair now and you let him. You nod. “Well we can’t stay out here forever, you know.”

“We can try.”

Your familiar shakes his head, “What’s the point of that?” You grunt but don’t shift your gaze from the door. “I’m gonna ring the doorbell now, okay?”

You wonder when the tables turned. When it was you that was nervously skirting around them, when Jungkook was the one confident enough to get close.

You nod because there’s no point in delaying it, anyway. No point in you getting nervous, either.

Jungkook rings the doorbell and you look down at your shoes when you hear approaching footsteps, like they were just by the door and waiting. Their doormat says "enter if you dare" and has a little skeleton on the bottom. You stifle a laugh.

The door swings open and Jimin’s head pops out first, smiles at you both, opens the door wider. “Hello, hello!”

Jungkook greets him first, only smiling before handing over the bag in his hand. While you (read: Namjoon) had the idea of bringing wine, Jungkook wanted to bring juice, so he did.

“We brought stuff!” He smiles, and you hand the bag of wine over as if on cue.

“Wine!” Jimin cheers, quickly followed by footsteps and “juice!” from Taehyung.

You slip off your shoes and hang your coat by the wall hook, stare at a mustard colored peacoat and wonder whose it is.

The floorboards creak as you pad farther inside and you like that, the creaking - it means the place is old and lived in and you like old and lived in places.

Then there’s this rush of vanilla and strawberries and warmth and then the shyest boldest most beautiful boy half in your arms tugging you in whispering

hello, hi, Y/n, c'mere, it’s nice to see you again! sorry for the mess, Y/n, wait how did that get on the ceiling Y/n, Y/n.

Smiles this smile so big it hurts, cracks something big across your heart.

You’re dragged into their kitchen and Jimin is there, Jungkook close by sipping on something warm in his cup. Jimin is watching him, smiling something small and giddy, playing with the long earrings dangling from Jungkook’s ear. Jungkook flushes.

You thought you were ready for this softness. Early this morning you’d drank a soothing potion mixed with some sugar– you even bathed in lavender and rose water and a bit of neroli, just to soothe some smaller nerves. Standing here, you think it didn’t do much of a difference. You’re feeling everything all at once.

“Rule number one is that you have to ask Tannie if you can sit on the couch. I don’t have a rule number two because I haven’t thought that far, but please regard rule number one with utmost respect.” Taehyung exclaims with exaggerated hand gestures just as the dog in question trots towards you, angry eyebrows sizing you up despite his size. You feel very much intimidated.

Everything is great. Yeontan sometimes lets you sit on the couch and Jimin and Jungkook are laughing and Taehyung is telling you of this strange dream he had and of this strange album he listened to and of this art museum he went to that was absolutely terrible. Jimin interjects to agree that it was, in fact, terrible, the kind of museum where everyone’s a snob and thinks that art has to look and be a certain way.

Then when Jimin and Jungkook disappear somewhere Taehyung appears beside you, asking if he can take you somewhere, tangling your fingers together just as gently, as if to say you can let go if you want, you can say no if you want. But you do want it, so you let him tug you into their hallway.

His and Jimin’s shared bedroom isn’t particularly big, but it’s soft and smells like them. Almost but not quite like sugar and strawberries and lavender. There’s a cactus on one of their nightstands by the corner, a little bow on its pot, sitting by an over-filled vase of sunflowers. There are dried flowers by window ledges and framed prints and hanging by their headboard.

You’re both sitting in a corner, sharing earbuds, flipping through a poetry book you’d recognized the second he picked it up. The one Jimin bought from you that must have been for Taehyung. You smile at the thought.

“They don’t know we’re here,” Taehyung says suddenly with a giggle, tapping his feet to the song in his earbuds a bit out of rhythm. He says it like you’re sharing a secret. You find yourself grinning.

Then Jimin comes stumbling in, Jungkook not far behind, both of them giggling and tripping over their feet as if drunk but they’re not, they’re just giddy and excited and maybe a little bit in love.

Jimin looks over at you two in the corner and you freeze. You freeze but you don’t know why, feel as if you’ve been caught but that’s not right, you and Taehyung weren’t doing anything, there’s no reason to feel as if you should apologize.

Yet you feel an apology on the tip of your tongue, even if Jimin and Jungkook’s faces are—aren't—

“There you two are,” Jimin says, nothing short of fond.

Jungkook behind him grins, pads over to plop his head on your lap. Jimin follows, bending down to press a kiss to the crown of both your and Taehyung’s heads before sitting in front of you three and you feel—

You feel warm. Loved. Safe. Sandwiched from both sides, Taehyung curling in closer, Jungkook’s hair tickling the exposed skin of your leg, Jimin taking a hold of your hands, teasingly pressing a few kisses to the back of it.

You play games after that and argue for over ten minutes on which movie to watch. There’s only the living room and it’s already a small space to start, so you all end up pressed together on the couch, but no one seems to mind. You get winks whenever you meet someone’s eye and everything is warm and makes you feel sleepy. You feel adored and cared for and think your worlds are colliding in the most wonderful of ways.

Except sometimes you feel as if you’re intruding, as if you shouldn’t be there at all. It’s hard to think otherwise, with them being in love and whatnot. But it’s unfair, unfair to think that you’re being left out when there’s nothing to be left out of, so you sit and try to convince yourself that these almost-feelings are thoughts of

wow, what a kind bunch of people I know, how lucky I am to have them in my life, what a great group of friends this is.

“Are you feeling okay?” Namjoon asks the second you walk inside his shop. You don’t remember walking here, don’t remember at all. “Because everything suddenly tastes icky and I literally just ate some of Jin-hyung’s lemon pie so you better get happy quick.”

The inside of the store still smells of sage and rosemary and butter cookies, and there are still objects lying around in places they shouldn’t. Namjoon picks up a copy of Alice in Wonderland that appeared on his desk this morning and tucks it away neatly between the shelves and shelves of other books. You wonder how he finds space for it.

There are no light switches anywhere, no bulbs hanging overhead. But there’s a fire crackling by the fireplace that never seems to go out, and there are lanterns floating just the tiniest bit, hovering just above the tables, burning with green alchemical fire and tinting everything a warm emerald color. The lanterns seem to stick a bit closer to whoever is nearby.

The interior is surprisingly lush, probably (definitely) courtesy of Jin. Carpets are layered one over another. There are heavy wooden tables and chairs, vines curling around their legs, their stems a vivid green. There is nowhere to sit that doesn’t seem to be crawling with plants.

You laugh and he smiles but there’s still a pinch of worry somewhere in his eyes, in the crease between his brows - just more on the edges now. “m'fine, Joon,” You say, then immediately want to swallow your words back in. You don’t want to give such an answer, not to Namjoon. "At least, I will be.“ you add.

The witch is about to interject just as Jin walks in, Kimbap striding behind him with his tail just as high as his head. "Joon-ah, the chimney smoke is blowing south.”

Namjoon nods, like there’s more to the phrase than just the direction the smoke is blowing. He stands up, and you have no choice but to follow. “I’ll deal with it later, hyung. Y/n-ah, do you wanna join us for pie?” And so you do.

You’re at a pleasant level of tired, the kind in which everything is just a bit funnier than usual, where walking feels like you’re wading through knee-deep water. Jin slices you some of his lemon pie in a piece that ends up breaking apart, and he releases a gut wrenching scream when some of it falls onto his jeans that has you and Namjoon laughing so hard you see colored spots.

“So what’s got you in such a mood?” Seokjin asks as he shoves a forkful of pie into his mouth that’s way bigger than necessary, the man barely even managing to chew it. He’s wearing shorts now.

“It’s her failing love life, hyung, keep with the program.” You flick Namjoon on the forehead at that and he laughs, quick and sharp. He tries to hide it but his smile keeps slipping.

“No it is not.”

“Lies, your shoulders are all scrunched up.” Jin points out through a mouthful of pie, and it’s then you notice your shoulders bunched up into an irritable shrug. You try to relax but it’s too late.

“Did they say something to you?”

“No!” You’re quick to say. “No. They didn’t say anything to me.”

Namjoon and Jin look at you, then look at each other. Squint. There’s a second of silence, and then a quiet, “Let’s curse them.”

“What!” You snap.

“Not a malicious curse! Just a tiny one.” Namjoon nods, proud of himself.

“May their phones run out of battery quicker.”

“May their socks always step into puddles.”

“May they forget a family member’s birthday.”

“Oh, that’s a little mean,” Namjoon frowns.

Jin looks sheepish. “Was it too mean?” He pauses, rubbing a hand over his chin, wings fluttering a bit. "May they burn their toast more often?“

A smile, and they high five. Namjoon sits up, his chair scraping backwards. "I need, like, five candles. And hyssop. Hyung, do we have hyssop?”

You watch these two adult men scramble around their own house with narrowed eyes. “Guys! I don’t want to curse anyone! They didn’t do anything, really!”

Namjoon turns, candle in hand as he sighs, places it back in its shelf. He walks back towards you, places a comforting hand on your shoulder. “Are you sure? You can tell us, you know. We’re here to help.”

“I know.” Is all you say, and you do. You do know. They’re always trying to help, always are. “Thank you. I just need to sort my feelings through, I think.” Namjoon is frowning but nods, pinches your cheek, laughs at your squeal.

Jin walks in, dry bay leaf in hand. “So we don’t need this?”

“No.” You deadpan. His shoulders slump, and you laugh when he trudges back out the way he came.

Everything seems a bit off, a bit odd - like the universe shifted one centimeter to the right, everything off kilter.

Jimin picks you up after your afternoon classes that day, arms crossed and leaning against a wall like they do in all those books and movies and dramas. He’s wearing skinny jeans and fake glasses. It’s kinda unfair that people like him exist, people that can see without any visual aid whatsoever.

He smiles when you reach him, ruffles your hair, kisses your nose - the very tip of it, lips barely even grazing your skin.

“Hi, hello,” he says, grins, pinches your arm like it’ll distract you from his own embarrassment, laughs when it works.

The vampire takes your hand, tangles his fingers with yours, swings your intertwined hands softly.

“Taehyung’s making pasta,” Jimin says, pauses, “well, Taehyung's watching the pasta, actually,” he corrects with a chuckle.

“Am I invited to your pasta endeavors?”

“Do you want to be? You’re going to have to spend, like, hours with us.” His tone makes it sound like it’s the most terrible thing but his smile says otherwise. The breeze is teasing him, fluffing his hair like a baby chick.

“Oh no. Oh no, not hours.”

“Hours.” He says dramatically, giggles– really giggles, even though he’s vehemently opposed to the term whenever you bring it up.

Jimin is charming, haphazard all around the edges kind of charming. He smiles a lot, smiles at everyone, smiles like he has an infinite number of them to offer when you have, like, seven in a day at most. He smiles at the ice cream vendor and at the bulgogi vendor across from it. He smiles at the stray cats in alleyways and apologizes when he nearly bumps into a trashcan. Smiles at you, too.

“We’re home!” Jimin yells out when you both arrive, his fangs poking out through his smile and you know he must be talking to Taehyung but for a second it really feels like you’re home. Not because of their home, exactly, even with the streaks of paint on the ceiling and sprawled out video games on the floor and a bonsai on the windowsill that you just know is Taehyung’s, but just because of–

them.

And it all feels like so much.

You’re all watching Ponyo like Jungkook wanted to so much and him and Jimin are half asleep on the futon just below the couch, all curled into each other and warm and comfortable.

(You try to cover them with a blanket like they do in every romance ever known to man, but Jungkook immediately kicks it off with a might you’ve never seen before, and you blankly watch it flop to the floor. Taehyung muffles his laugh as much as he can manage).

Taehyung shifts closer to you somewhere between the credits rolling and Jungkook’s particularly loud snore, and something about his hesitation and the little smile almost makes you coo.

You don’t comment, simply crawl closer to Taehyung on the couch. He shifts so he’s closer and his antlers just barely graze over the armrest before he settles, nuzzling into the throw pillow. He smells like Jimin’s body wash and shampoo; citrus mixed with something boyish, something like honeysuckle and cedarwood, something that just might be Taehyung.

“Is this okay?” he mutters sheepishly, his hand grazing over yours as he shifts, shifts, shifts positions.

You swat at the couch a bit before finding the bare skin of his arm. His inner elbow, most likely. You tap twice, not willing to speak, not willing to break the sweet sweet cotton candy of this moment.

A moment of silence goes by. A quiet one. Quiet moments with Taehyung are nice, like there’s nothing needed to be said, no need to fill the silence. It’s quiet in a loud way, a thousand words to say and not a single one good enough to be put into words. But it’s nice, even though it shouldn’t need to be.

Taehyung suddenly turns, takes his phone from the nightstand, unplugs the charger from it before turning, settling, squinting at the screen’s brightness. You laugh, a breathless thing, and he smiles.

He type type types before pausing, glancing at you from beneath his lashes. You’re so close you can count the number of eyelashes he has, the number of freckles, the little mole by his nose and his bottom lip that would look unnecessary on anyone else but on him it’s just right.

He hands the phone over. Taehyung does this sometimes, tells you things through the phone despite how close you might be, says it helps him think his words through, helps him not say things he’ll regret.

There’s something on my mind, the phone says, short and simple, and for a second you think that this is it, he noticed your sticky feelings, they all did, you messed up. Either in many little ways and one big way or many big ways and one little way, you don’t know. He’s here to be mature about it, here to say

stop looking at my boyfriend like that please

and the worst part is that they have every right to.

Because you don’t have a right to think of Jimin’s boyfriend like this, you don’t have a right to think of Taehyung’s boyfriend like this, that you don’t have a right to think of Jungkook like this- sweet Jungkook in love with them both.

Your mouth is dry and tastes like salt as you curl up, type tell me? before handing the phone over. You just hope they don’t hate you. You wouldn’t be able to handle them hating you.

Sometimes you think there’s something wrong with you, to think like this, to think of all three of them like this. That maybe you’re doing this wrong, doing something wrong. You googled it once, just to see - and some of what you saw hurt, hurt a lot. A lot of people, a lot of what you saw said that you can’t love more than one person, that you can only fully give your heart to one person. But that’s not right, you don’t believe that one bit, don’t want to believe that, because there’s nothing wrong with it, it’s just love, and there’s nothing wrong with love.

Jimin and Taehyung and Jungkook are so gentle with their love for each other, all this patiently impatient love, their sweet tangle of fingers and gentle smiles. Jimin and Taehyung with their lingering kisses that shouldn’t linger because they’re fifteen minutes late for class. The two on either side of Jungkook on the couch, one messing with his hair and the other falling asleep on his shoulder and you love it. Love them together.

And you don’t know what to do with this not-jealousy, with this almost-jealousy, with this-

love.

You watch Taehyung’s fingers move as he types, pauses, deletes. You think it’s better this way. To end things before the sticky feelings clogging at your insides spreads until it hurts too much to hide.

He hands the phone over. You hope your fingers aren’t shaking. I think I’m sad is all it says. You feel relieved even though you know you shouldn’t.

do you wanna talk about it?

His hands clumsily brush against yours as he takes the phone from you.

could u talk out loud? if you don’t mind? i like ur voice.

“okay,” you whisper, feeling small and warm in all the right ways, and he laughs that ehehe laugh.

He motions for you to get closer. You comply, curling in closer to read over his arm as he writes. sry my spellign sucks, i’m bad even tho i need to know how 2 communicate

“You used both the number two and the word two in that one sentence,” you exclaim with a muffled laugh, mindful of the still sleeping Jimin and Jungkook, and you feel him smile before he even does, big and unreserved and then you feel it, the little pang in your chest, warmth warmth warmth spreading through your veins.

i think i like many someones, but i don’t know how to tell them!!!! this is then followed by a stream of emojis, only some of them resembling anger. You almost snort at the sight of a weirdly placed clown emoji and a little gray haired grandma.

There’s a moment of silence as you think of what to say that you won’t regret later. “I think you need to tell them,” you continue right as Taehyung starts typing a drawn out nooo, “They won’t treat you any differently, honey boy.”

Taehyung visibly recoils, shivers, takes a hold of your hand and types with his other, dont use logic ur mortal rules do not apply 2 me, he writes, only erases it when you’re done laughing, types again with shaky fingers, how do u know that?

You inhale a shaky breath. “Because if they really love you, romantically or not, they’ll want to see you healthy and happy regardless of whether they reciprocate your feelings.” You pause. "Which I’m sure they do.“ You attempt a knowing smile at him but he doesn’t get it, only stares blankly at the screen, thumb still tracing patterns on your skin.

im scared

You wriggle forward so that your brows are pressed together with his. He shivers. "You shouldn’t be. People that are meant to find each other will, remember? So people that are meant to stay with each other will, too.”

Silence. Taehyung stays still and for a moment you think you messed up, gave too much away, but then he leans down and presses his lips to your temple. Almost kissing you but not quite. “Thank you.” he murmurs against your skin, “Goodnight, baby doll.”

His head plops onto the throw pillow before he pauses, sits upright to lean dangerously close before nuzzling his head into your shoulder, hiding his face in the pillow quick. Scenting, you consider, then dismiss the thought.

You can’t see his face but there’s a faint taste of strawberries on your tongue. Ah, you think offhandedly. So that’s what his happiness tastes like.

You stay wound up in each other even as the heat is sweltering, and you wake up on a bed with Jimin pressed behind you and his legs tangled with yours and Jungkook somewhere between you and Taehyung, his cheek pressed to your collarbones and snores loud enough to reach the heavens and it all feels a little disorienting. Just a little bit too right.

You hope things with Jungkook will go well.

Even when you wake up before the sun, it’s warm.

Everything is warm, feels like lavender and rosemary and something soft all around. You think you can taste cherries and strawberries and something sweet, everything sweet.

And then you open your eyes and it all makes sense. Because that’s just how Jungkook and Jimin and Taehyung are, soft and sweet and floral until all the edges are safe enough to press against, all sugar spun words and sugar spun smiles. It makes you long for it, long for their sugar scrubbed lips against your skin.

But that’s not right, it’s not right to think that, so you steel yourself and peel open an eye and think that it’s best to get it over with quickly, like jumping into cold water. It hurts less that way, you learned.

“Guk,” You mutter first, softly, the man stirring only slightly beneath you. He turns and nestles his head deeper into your neck, his lips dragging a bit over the skin and you shudder because you can’t help it. “Kook,” you repeat but it’s even softer, your hands combing through his hair.

He hums a bit, and Taehyung shifts from behind him. The man opens his eyes in a sort of dissociative state but he still smiles, eyes meeting yours over Jungkook’s head, and you both share a knowing kind of smile, like you’re being let in on a secret. Jimin shifts from behind you, his touch cold in a way all vampires’ are, but oddly warm as his arms tighten around your middle, nose nuzzling the back of your neck.

You close your eyes and sleep a bit longer. You allow yourself just that. It’ll be the last time, you tell yourself, even though you’ve said that for way too long already.

When you wake again, it’s just you and Jungkook. Unsurprising, since Jungkook is the one that sleeps in the most, sleeps whenever he finds the chance. You look at the time, the clock blinking 10:36. You realize you’re not on the couch anymore, that someone must have moved you while you were sleeping. Heart aching at the thought that you must have been a bother.

You just lay there for a while in thought, reverting between looking at the ceiling and looking at Jungkook. The little constellation of freckles and blemishes on the apple of his cheeks. His cupid’s bow. The tangle of his eyelashes.

Laughter trickles through the closed door, bouncing around and fitting itself into all the corners and crevices, soft and warm and sweet. That’s the thing about them. You hear their voices, their laughter, and it burrows itself somewhere in your chest and makes itself at home and you don’t think you’ll ever get it out. You find trails of their laughter everywhere, find it when you open cabinets and it comes tumbling out, find trails of their smiles under cushions and fogging up all your mirrors.

You brush away Jungkook’s hair with your palm, lightly press your lips to his forehead in an almost-kiss. You think he shivers, but you were busy untangling your legs from his so you can’t be too sure.

When you close the door softly behind you and pad further into their apartment, you hear a noise of exasperation by the couch.

“The creature has risen,” Jimin remarks ominously.

“Amen.” Taehyung says, feigning surprise when you turn to look at him.

“You all suck,” you say and watch as they burst into a fit of giggles, your heart dangerously warm. “Sorry for staying over, I wasn’t planning to.”

“No, no, no,” Taehyung’s the first to reassure, gesturing for you to come closer. You comply, standing hesitantly by the back of the couch, and he turns to take your hands into his, his thumb drawing circles onto the back of it. You almost shiver. “S'okay, not your fault. And it’s nice having you here.”

You don’t comment. Try not to stare at his hands tangled in yours, try not to think of how warm he is. “Guk’s still sleeping,” you start, if only as a distraction, "I would wake him, but I don’t have the willpower.“

Jimin bursts from the couch, muttering an excited mantra of "I’ll do it!" as he does so. He almost passes you by but pauses, presses a kiss to your temple and a hand trailing softly down your arm and then— "Good morning, my little love.” before he disappears down the hallway. You try to steel your expression into something less soft and fond but when you turn Taehyung’s looking at you like he caught you in the act, his eyes and smile all giddy and warm. You look away quick, speed walking into the kitchen.

Their kitchen is a normal kitchen by all means, nothing overly exciting there. But when you turn there’s a teapot with a little cartoon bear and their oven mitts have polka dots on them and there are reminders glued to the fridge with little magnets that look like cats.

Dance practice at 2!, one says in cute cursive handwriting; Buy pickles at the grocery store!!! the other says covered in scrawls and doodles and too many exclamation points. You remember last night, remember the way Taehyung texts and just know it’s him, and feel hopelessly endeared.

The man in question suddenly trudges into the kitchen, and you try to purse your lips to keep yourself from smiling even as he pats your head and grabs a carton of juice from out the fridge. You catch a glimpse of several bags of blood in there and wonder what Jimin is up to with Jungkook. Jungkook’s sleepy noises and pursed lips and puffy eyes. Jimin sitting on the edge of the bed, combing through the werewolf's hair and looking down at him with a smile. Good god.

Taehyung grabs your wrist and leads you toward a cabinet, grip hopelessly soft. He opens it, takes out a mug with a printing of a dolphin jumping out the water. There are too many colors and it kinda looks like a Picasso painting. “Jiminie bought it for me from the last time he visited his family back in Busan. It’s the ugliest mug we own and also my favorite.”

He places it on the counter, pours juice into it as you laugh. The hybrid reaches to grab another mug, hands you one with a smiling Cinderella on it. “Thank you,” you mutter, soft.

He lunges forward abruptly, and there’s a smack on the center of your forehead when his lips meet your skin. He pulls away just as quick, shuffling away with his mug, but it’s still warm where he kissed you.

God. You’re so far gone.

You steel yourself as you approach Taehyung. He’s sitting on the far end of the table, pouring cereal into a bowl. You laugh lightly, going to sit opposite him, but he pulls you by the sleeve of your shirt to sit beside him, so you comply with a laugh.

There’s silence as you sip on your drink and as he eats his cereal. Then suddenly you mutter, just for the heck of it, "What’s your favorite color?“

The boy looks up, blinks, and you’re suddenly reminded of why you called him honey boy in the first place. He’s so, so pretty. "Hm?” he hums at first, chewing slowly at his cereal. “It, uh. Starts with a b and ends with a loo.”

“Ah.” You nod, “I like purple, too.”

Taehyung laughs, quick and sharp, then covers his mouth with a hand because otherwise he’d spit cereal all over the counter. You grin in delight because how could you not?

“Not funny,” The hybrid mutters after the laughter stops. He tries to keep a poker face but his smile keeps slipping.

“You laughed, though.” You point out but he doesn’t say anything, moves the cereal box between you both so you don’t see his face. You laugh.

It’s quiet again after that. A nice quiet. Like the ones you experience with family members and friends, people you’ve known your whole life. You haven’t known Taehyung your whole life - haven’t known him for much time at all, actually. You’d like to, though. Like to know where he’s most ticklish, what makes his brows furrow, what makes him laugh so hard he’s in tears and has everything tasting like strawberries.

“Hey, Taehyung?” You speak up for the first time in a while, Yeontan’s tail tickling your legs from under the table. He hums for you to continue, so you do, “Is it Jimin that dances?”

Taehyung’s expression contorts into so much open admiration your heart kinda aches a bit. “Yeah,” he says a bit breathlessly, “He’s really good at it, too. So pretty.”

“Oh.” You nod, because it makes sense. He’s graceful and slim and his legs are a bit too muscular, but you thought that had something to do with him being a vampire. Protein and all that. “I can imagine,” you say because you really can.

Taehyung nod nod nods and it’s then that the wood creaks, and you turn to find Jimin standing nearby, like a hell-beast you summon using words of praise. Jungkook is standing behind him, and you look down and see their hands intertwined and Jungkook’s face a bit flushed.

“They’re cute,” you hear Taehyung mutter, and you nod because it’s true. They’re good for each other. And if the way Taehyung stands up and throws himself on top of both of them says anything, all of them erupting into giggles and everything tasting sweet - he’s good for them, too. They all are. So good.

“Noona!” You blink blink blink and look up and Jungkook must have materialized beside you or something because he definitely wasn’t there before. “Jimin-hyung is complaining that Tae-hyung only fed you juice so now he’s making food! Don’t worry, it’s not some lame cereal or anything.”

You nod and he nods back. Ruffles your hair. Doesn’t kiss the crown of your head like he does sometimes, on some mornings where he’s cold and soft and half-asleep.

Jungkook coaxes you out the chair and leads you to the stove where Jimin is making eggs. Taehyung is there, too, and your familiar suddenly lets go of your hand just to burst into a sprint and slap the hybrid’s butt, says something about him having a perky bum before Taehyung is chasing him around the table while Jimin is laughing and you’re laughing and it’s a mess.

It all kinda feels like true love.

You really want it to be.

You’re in an aquarium. You’re not usually in aquariums, not without company, not with the children chasing each other around and the occasional happy couple that walks by to stare at an octopus or something. The things people do for love.

“I wanna be a marine biologist,” Hoseok says, chewing on a shrimp cracker. He’s wearing swim trunks and a navy blue shirt with a little fish on his chest. The gills on his neck are swaying softly. "I get to see fish and maybe show them to little kids sometimes. Oh, and swim in the big tanks after hours.“

"You can do that?”

He turns to you, something knowing glinting in his eyes. “Nope.” He says, popping another cracker into his mouth.

“Do all mermaids like to swim?” You ask, turning to him expectantly. He offers you a cracker from his little packet and you politely decline.

“Not really,” he hums in thought. “Some just prefer the land, ya know? I’d like to think their soul will always be tied to the ocean, though.”

You hum. “Yeah. I like the way you put it.” Is all you say. When you turn to look at him, he’s smiling.

Hoseok lets you look over his shoulder as he shows you pictures of him with his tail, blushes a pink just as bright as his tail when you compliment him. He pauses at a picture of him with purple seashells over his chest like Ariel, bursts into laughter with you.

You appreciate it. Appreciate that he’s not asking why you’re really here, sulking at a school of trouts.

“Hoseok-ah,” you say, pause when he hums in acknowledgement. He doesn’t push, just waits. His hair’s a bit wet, you notice. Smells a bit like chlorine and something soft. He’s shining with pixie dust and something else. “Um. At what point did you know you were in love with Yoongs?”

His whole body melts, human fondue. “It wasn't really a big revelation. At one point I just made a face at him and watched him laugh then thought ‘oh shit, do I love him' then I couldn’t unthink it, couldn’t undo it.” You watch as everything about him instantly melts with his smile. It was just the tiniest bit of tension, so small you couldn’t even notice it until it wasn’t there, that’s what melts away.

“Huh.” Is all you say, because there’s nothing you could say to that. “Then what made you tell him?”

“Red bull,” He says, laughs, “And tears, too. Can’t forget about those,” He looks at you and softens, looking impossibly honest. “And the thought that maybe I’d regret it if I kept it to myself.”

The mermaid turns and watches the same school of trouts pass by with you. Doesn’t say anything until you hear a gasp and he says all too loudly, “Holy shit that dude totally just winked at me.”

And you laugh, slapping lightly at his shoulder, “It’s a fish, they can’t even blink.”

“I swear that one just did.”

“They don’t even have eyelids!”

And maybe things are just a little more okay.

It’s another day. Another day that feels like an early morning but it really isn’t. A time of day in which the air is not yet cooled by autumn and the sun lines the side of your face lovingly.

Except the curtains are drawn and the air conditioner is at full blast, and Jungkook is napping on your bed when it’s five in the afternoon and his own bed is, like, down the hall.

“Guk,” you whisper, spot a blob of blankets that must be Jungkook and only a nose sticking out of it, as if he were under the covers until recently but had to get out for some air. You’re so fond. “Gukkie. Time to get up.”

You try to gently shake him awake but he only groans, trying to shuffle away from you on the bed. Breathing out a chuckle, you place the drink in your hand onto the bedside table before plopping yourself completely on top of him, hear it when he lets out a low oof.

He whispers a mantra of drawn out noo's under his breath before you see his head pop out, chin propped over the blankets as he watches you with his brows furrowed. You laugh in delight, catch it when he purses his lips to fight back a smile.

“What’s that smell?” The werewolf asks, voice low and groggy from sleep, his arms bursting from out of the covers to wrap themselves around your middle. You shuffle from on top of him until your cheek is laying on his chest, warm and comfortable, feel it whenever he draws in a breath, the rise and fall of his chest.

“Potion,” your voice is muffled from where your cheek is laying on his collarbone, but you know he hears you when you feel rather than see his face scrunch up in adorable disgust. You continue before he can voice his concerns, "But! It’s sweet. I put in some honey and a chocolate bar and some maple syrup. The syrup needed a little more persuasion to dissolve but a little flirting did the trick, I think.“

"Sounds like it tastes very sweet,” Jungkook says with a toothy grin, sitting up without letting go of you so you’re forced to sit up, too. You watch as he slowly moves to grab his drink, other arm resting on your hip, as if to stop you from moving, to keep you close. Or maybe that’s just wishful thinking. “What’s it for? I don’t know what Tae-hyung told you, but I don’t have bowel problems, I swear.”

You laugh, tucking the comment away for another time. “Nothing like that, I think. It’s just warm.”

He hums, blowing ripples in his cup as steam wafts upwards and around. You watch-- feel – as he sips at his cup, as he shudders a bit when the warmth flows through his veins, as he presses the cup to his chest with half-lidded eyes, breathes out a little sigh.

You get up before you can stare any longer. You almost do, shuffling back and untangling your legs from his, but Jungkook startles and stops you with a hand lightly gripping your arm.

“Dinner- Guk, I gotta make dinner-” You say but it’s only to convince yourself, only to stop yourself from getting closer— but it hasn’t worked before and it isn’t working now.

Jungkook drags you back to bed, grip hopelessly gentle, as if to say you can go, you can leave if you want—but you don’t, you never do, so you let yourself be dragged; helpless for him, for this pretty boy in your bed.

His legs are around your waist and pulling you closer and you want this, you want this but you don’t want to want this, don’t know how to get closer without the words spilling—I like you I like you, like you so much, liked you for ages.

A chin is propped over your head, both his hands resting on your hips. The silence sticks, gentle with sleep and afternoon fog.

“Noona,” he murmurs, and you hadn’t realized when he started rocking you gently back and forth. “Noona, s'okay, right?”

You hum but it sounds distant, like you hadn’t said anything at all. It’s a pretty dream, you decide. It’s a pretty dream and you’ll sit here while Jungkook tells you pretty things.

His hands are trailing up and down your arms and you shudder, feel each individual line, and it’s skin that will never be the same now that it remembers what Jungkook’s touch feels like. It’s too much. Not enough.

(Jungkook had kissed you once before, back when you were both tipsy on secrets and laughter and a bottle of wine, alcohol no longer in any of your systems but you were both pretending it was. He'd leaned over, unthinking, when you’d laughed at something he said, had pressed both your lips together. You hadn’t reacted at first, were still for enough time to make him reconsider, make him recoil back, but then you were slipping your hands into his hair and tugging him back and he’d kissed you again, softly, soft enough to make you ache for it for weeks afterwards, like a bruise that wouldn’t heal.

“Guk,” you’d started the next day, finding him hunched over the couch, “could we talk, maybe-” but he’d cut you off cheerily, much too cheerily, “it’s okay, noona, I get it, it’s fine it’s fine it’s fine—”)

“Shit,” Jungkook says, sounding pained, almost. You look up at him but he’s already looking. He’s close. So close. Not close enough. “This is okay, right?”

You nod, not sure what he’s asking about but sure that it’s okay. With Jungkook, it always is.

He makes a soft little sound, like a hum and a growl and a sigh all mixed into one. It burrows somewhere in your chest and you don’t think you’ll ever get it out.

You’re not sure when the dam breaks. Not sure who moves first. But at some point you both do, meeting in the middle, angle off, teeth clicking. You kinda want to break it off just to laugh, just to blink and make sure this is all real, but Jungkook’s hands move to cup both your cheeks and keep you in place and then

then you’re kissing.

He doesn’t taste salty with wine. He tastes of lip balm and something sugary sweet. Just like you remember. Just like you dream of, sometimes. You think of this and smile so hard your cheeks ache and feel him smile back. It should be an awkward kiss, if anything- practically all teeth- but it isn’t, it’s nice, gentle.

Jungkook pulls back to breathe, to mutter something that sounds like oh, god, before he’s swaying back, back to you, pulling you close, impossibly close. He presses his lips to yours again and again and again—eyes shy and determined, lips careful and caring.

You pull back and Jungkook growls, something raw and oddly feral, but when you look up at him, startled, he looks equally surprised. "I swear that wasn’t on purpose.“ He sounds a bit out of breath. His too long bangs brush against his eyelashes and there’s a little bit of stubble on his chin. You laugh and kiss him there, right on his chin, hear it when he makes a soft little thing that sounds like a sigh. You wonder how many more sounds you can get out of him, how many more sighs you can steal from his lips and eat like summer cherries.

He does taste like that, though, you think. He tastes like cherries. Like happiness.

Jungkook gets closer still, whispers a breath against your lips, this is okay, right? this is okay? and you feel it even without words, feel it in the gentle press of his lips to yours. Feel it even when it’s not gentle, when it’s something deeper and hungry, sweeter and messier and open. It’s embarrassing how easy you say yes each time, but he doesn’t comment. Only smiles. Swallows the embarrassing sounds you make.

There’s a gentle press of a tongue to the seam of your mouth, to your bottom lip, let me in, it says, let me in, if you want. And you do, you do want it, so you let him, feel as he melts and sighs and sinks into you deeper still. He’s so pretty. You say so, when you both part, watch as he blushes the same color as the cherries he tastes like.

You don’t realize when you’re being set down softly on a pillow, Jungkook hovering over you, pressing kisses from the apple of your cheeks down to your jaw down to your collarbones. So beautiful, he murmurs, suddenly shy, and it makes you both smile and you can’t come back from this. Can you come back from this?

Dark eyes meet yours when you look up, round as truffles. Jungkook smiles a toothy grin, something giddy in his eyes that widens when you smile back. Then he’s leaning down and kissing you so softly it melts you down to your bones. You can’t come back from this.

You want this. You want to kiss him until he’s trembling and his bangs are sticking to his forehead. You want to hold his hand when he’s sad and have your hand held when you’re sad and sometimes hold hands just because. You want to have baths, sexy ones sometimes, with candles.

But you also want early mornings. You want to wake up to the sound of keyboards and Jungkook ushering you out of bed, noona let me help, noona look at what I made, noona let’s go outside, noona, noona, noona.

You want Jimin and Taehyung. You want to make them smile, want them to make you smile, want to wake up to their smiles. You want to give them presents and watch their faces contort into gentle surprise. Want to hang ornaments on Taehyung’s antlers and watch him smile when they jingle.

You can’t come back from this.

"Wait,” you gasp, “wait, wait, wait.”

Jungkook sits up so fast he looks dizzy. “Noona?” His voice sounds small and panicked. He comes to when you sit up, too, shuffling away from you quick, “Oh god. Oh god, I—I’m sorry, I don't—Oh, oh god.”

He tries to get out of bed but you grab him quick, “Wait, don't—don’t go. Just give me a second,” you’re breathing too quick. You breathe more slow, the way Jimin taught you how; three seconds in and three seconds out. “Just… give me a second.”

Jungkook looks up then down then up again. “Okay.” He sits back. Not close like before. There’s still a bit of panic in his eyes, just more on the edges now.

He holds his hand out to you wordlessly, looking down at the sheets. You accept the offer, intertwining your hands softly.

“You don’t, like, owe me an explanation or anything,” he speaks quick, “we don't—have to do anything,” he grimaces, "obviously. We obviously don’t have to do anything. If you wanted to before but don’t want it anymore, that’s fine, that’s fine too—"

“Guk,” You interject softly. He’s breathing too quick, too. “I want to do those things with you—I do, I really do. Wanted to for some time,” he’s looking at you now, and you try not to flush but fail miserably. “I just—wanted to get some things straight, and thought, um. WWND, you know?”

Jungkook smiles, the curl of his lips slow. “…What Would Namjoon Do?”

“Exactly!” You huff. There’s more to be said but you’re both smiling, so maybe that’s something.

“Um,” The werewolf says as the silence drags on, ears drooped against his head, “I’m still confused maybe a little.”

“Sorry,” you murmur, “I just need to know of, like. Feelings that may or may not be happening.”

“Feelings.” He mutters softly. His thumb is rubbing circles on the back of your hand. Looks at you shyly. “I like you,” he says all too easily—looks relieved at saying it, too, like the words have been waiting a long time to get out. “Those are my feelings.”

His words spread to the pit of your stomach, heavy and sweet, like how honey seeps into tea. It’s so fast. Everything is happening so fast you can’t wrap your head around anything. “Me?” you breathe in and breathe out quick. “You like me?”

Jungkook nods and nods again, hair bobbing with the movement. He shuffles a bit closer, hesitates, shuffles further away.

“Hey, no,” you almost coo, pull him so he can get closer and he does. “I like you, too. Liked you for ages.”

“Yeah?” He smiles slow, something big and giddy, teeth and all, shuffles closer still, “Yeah?” He asks again, almost nonsensically, not sure what he’s trying to confirm.

You smile just as big. “Yeah.”

Then Jungkook melts, turns to mush, shoulders drooping, “Oh, thank god. I just went through, like, nine stages of grief over our friendship that I thought I’d just ruined by making out with you.”

“Five—” you manage through your laughter, “Five- There are only five stages, Guk-ah.”

“Oh my god,” He looks at you, unimpressed, “I had, like, extra ones. I was that distressed. I like you so much.”

There’s silence and you both settle, let today’s events sit and simmer for a bit. It still feels unreal. Jungkook’s hand is still in yours, tethering you back to earth, and you feel the calluses of his skin as he trails nonsensical patterns on your hand.

“But,” you stutter when the silence drags for too long, “But I thought you were in love with Jimin and Taehyung?” You sound too vulnerable, you think. Too small.

“I am. I am,” He breathes in too quick, too sharp, breathes it out shakily, “but before I fell for them, I fell for you. It was always you.”

You want to say something, want to interject; and you’re about to, lips parted and everything, "But—"

You startle at the high pitched squeal Jungkook suddenly emits. He’s staring at his hands now, uses his free one to tug at his hair. “The hyungs! We planned to all talk together—Shit, dammit. Argh.”

You blink. “What.”

“Um!” He turns towards you resolutely. He lets go of your hand, regrets it, reaches back for it. “There are words that need to be said but I can't say them. Yet. And—” He makes another noise of frustration. “I wanna do this right. Will you let me do this right?”

You don’t know what he means by that. You’re still half expecting to wake up, to realize this is all a dream. It wouldn’t be the first time. Wouldn’t be the last, either.

You let yourself daydream sometimes, tell yourself it will ease the hurt. It never does, never eases, but you let yourself do it anyway. It’s all three of them in your daydreams. All three of them in this pretty world you created, in this little house where all four of you could wake up surrounded by warmth and everything is safe and soft enough to press against.

So you don’t know what to do. Don’t know what there is to do right. But you agree because it’s Jungkook, and you trust Jungkook, and sometimes he knows more than he lets on. “Okay.” you murmur.

You stay wound up in each other like it never happened, speaking softly to each other, Jungkook occasionally wrestling you for the blankets. You don’t talk about anything specific, just tiny things; that’s when I knew, that’s when I realized, that’s when I hoped. Sometimes Jungkook holds your hand while he talks and sometimes he doesn’t but that’s okay, too. When he lets go it’s cold but a sort of gentle one, makes you think,

look, look at how warm you can be.

There are still things to talk about but it’s fine. You have tomorrow and the day after tomorrow and so forth. For now, you’ll stay here where everything tastes like sugar. Spun-sweet.

That day didn’t come.

It’s been tomorrow and the day after tomorrow and even the day after that. Three days of you and Jungkook toeing around each other, three days of seemingly eternal suffering, only three days and now you’re in another person’s home sipping on another person’s cup of juice.

“Hey!” Namjoon frowns even as you give the cup back with a sheepish smile.

“Sorry.” You say, not apologetic in the slightest and he knows it, too.

There’s a month and a half left until Jin and Namjoon’s anniversary and they’ve both consequently used it as an excuse to bring everyone together. Again. Jin had said something about making use of our youth, even baked a cake and everything, and him and Hoseok are currently in the kitchen decorating it. Or, at least, they were.

“Jin-hyung, I think we failed a bit.”

“We? We? Oh no, you’ve got it all wrong! There is no we! What is this blasphemy! Where is your sense of propriety!” Seokjin shrieks while flailing one of those icing bags, and Hoseok ducks just in time to avoid getting nailed in the head by it, cackling loudly.

Yoongi intervenes, stepping between them, looks down at the cake and promptly bursts out laughing.

You follow and laugh lightly at what you see.

It’s a round vanilla cake and on top — written all too messily — are some almost indistinguishable handwriting written with some kind of blue paste. It says “happy anniversary na" then, as the space obviously wasn’t enough, the mjin is squeezed in at the side.

Namjoon doesn’t seem to mind and you all know Seokjin is only pretending to be annoyed, so you shuffle through the cabinets and hand Hoseok the single candle you’d found, watch as he sticks it in on the top. An act of redemption, on his part.

You all squeeze out of the kitchen after Yoongi as he carries the cake into the living room, sets it down onto the dining table. You feel oddly proud. Or maybe you’re just feeling what they’re feeling, simmering a bit in the pit of your stomach.

You all gather around on the couch where Jin pops a musical Hoseok had recommended into the TV. You somehow fall asleep somewhere between him dancing along with the characters and Namjoon belting out the lyrics and wake to a little bit of drool trickling down your chin and a bit onto someone’s shoulder.

You sit up with half-lidded eyes. Pat the person’s arm in sympathy for them, hear a deep chuckle in response and then — and then—

And then you look up and it’s Taehyung. Taehyung, whom you hadn’t even seen walk inside. Taehyung, who willingly sat next to you and let you sleep on his shoulder.

You drooled on him.

Drooled.

You stand up quick and panicked and try to mask it by wiping off your clothes and strolling into the kitchen like it never happened. You kinda either feel like questioning all your life decisions up to this point or letting out a long-winded shriek and you don’t know which to do first.

The latter option will be first, you think as Taehyung follows you into the kitchen.

"Um,” he mutters at first, clutching at the hem of his sweater. It’s beige and has a little chicken on the top right corner and is a pinch too short on him. You briefly wonder if it’s Jimin’s. “Hello.”

You blink and your tongue is suddenly ten times too big in your mouth. “Hi.”

“There’s icing on your shirt.” He grins.

You look down and there really is. You hadn’t even eaten cake, there was no way for it to get there. “There is.” you agree.

He hums. You hum back. Sometimes people associate your social failures with the fact that you’re a witch, and although you’re mildly offended, you mostly just like to roll with it.

The air’s a bit tense and you wish you could just go back to when talking was easy, when you’d ask where he got his belt and it would release the floodgates — that the belt was, in fact, a tie, of which he painted over to mimic the colors of Van Gogh's Starry Night. Which he then said is how he wanted to paint his wall, paint the wine shelves he’d keep beside his bed for when he wants to classily watch anime. He has big dreams. Makes your heart hurt.

Today, Taehyung’s eyes are painted a brighter color than usual. Makes your heart hurt, too.

He has nice eyebrows. You say so out loud, and he laughs. “Thank you. You have nice eyebrows, too.”

What is this. What is happening. Why are you complimenting each other’s eyebrows. “Um,” you start, “what’s up?”

“Oh!” He says, as if he’d just now remembered. “I just wanted some, um.” He grabs a cup out the drawer, one that’s red and made of plastic, not cute like the ones he has at home, the ones he’s so fond of. “I just wanted some punch.”

Taehyung pours some grapefruit punch into his cup, pale-pink in color. “You should dye your hair that color,” you start, almost regret it when he turns to look at you, but he looks curious so you continue, “it’d look nice on you.”

His cheeks are that color, you think. Pale-pink. “Yeah.” He says and that’s that.

You two walk back and the credits are rolling and everyone’s spread around separately. Jimin’s here too, you notice, see him laughing in a corner with Hoseok. Convince yourself it’s not you he’s looking at when you pass him by.

You and Taehyung end up sat together on the couch, curling in close. This is nice, you think, startle when he turns to face you. “What’s nice?”

“Uh,” you panic and hurry to elaborate, “being close, I guess. With someone. S'nice.”

For a second you think he might laugh but he only turns, considering. His arm is around you, hanging loosely over your waist. You feel cocooned and safe despite yourself.

“Do you want that?” You face him but he isn’t looking at you, only looking ahead intently as if deep in thought. “Do you want someone to be close with?” His eyes are open and soft and somewhat unsure.

You can’t help but bark out a laugh. Taehyung turns, frowns. “Do I?”

“What do you mean?” He murmurs, and your smile droops at how hesitant he sounds.

“What do you mean?” you retort, brows furrowing.

Jimin pads over just then, as if sensing the slight commotion. You half expect him to ask what’s going on, half expect yourself not to know how to answer because what is going on?— but he doesn’t, doesn’t do that, only sits on your other side, places a hand on your knee.

“This, see, you do this,” you start, gesturing to Taehyung’s arm over your waist, to Jimin’s hand on your knee and his hand on your back, thumbnails dragging softly over your spine. “But it’s not real, I know it isn’t.”

Taehyung’s looking at you a bit too intently. Jimin is, too, his eyes glinting gold. You see the surprise cross both their faces.

“Who says it isn’t real?” Taehyung says with a frown.

“Y/n, love, we like you.” Jimin adds, voice hushed as if he’s telling a secret.

“..I know,” you start, brows furrowed in confusion. You know they like you, at least a little bit, otherwise they wouldn’t have invited you over to their home so many times. Then why are they looking at you like that? “I mean, I like you, too.”

“Baby, what Jiminie means is that we’ve been trying to court you for, like, two months.”

Your mouth is dry. You try to swallow once, twice, taste salt and feel your throat get icky.

“Should we settle this at home?” Jimin asks, more to Taehyung than to you but you answer anyway,

“No! No. I just—need some air.”

Outside is a bit cold and Namjoon’s windowsill has too many potted plants he most likely can’t care for and the sky is softly settling, clouds hanging gently overhead. You look up and Taehyung’s face is a bit blurry but his antlers are easy to spot. They make him look taller, softer. Sometimes when you’re talking his ears flicker towards you and that’s when you know he’s listening even without saying anything at all.

Right now, he’s shifting from foot to foot as if he’s uncomfortable in his own skin. But that’s not right, Taehyung’s not one to be uncomfortable in his own skin, so this gentle rocking of his makes you feel strange. Seasick, almost.

Everything seems sort of suspended, like the world is hanging by a drop of nectar, waiting.

“Let’s talk, my little love.”

You almost startle at the term. Jimin looks proud at having said it, too, pretty grin and all. You need to focus. “Okay.” You nod. Taehyung gestures for you to continue, so you do, “You said you were, um. You were courting me?”

Taehyung nods. “Yes.” He says with so much confidence your heart kinda ached a bit.

“So.. what does that mean?”

“It means we want to date you.” Jimin’s the one to say, a nervous but firm whisper.

The silence drags on like a lip being dragged through teeth, slow and deliberate. Your organs feel wobbly inside. They’re doing that thing where they communicate with their eyebrows. They all have impossibly expressive eyebrows.

You feel the immense need to sit down, so you do. You sink to your knees and they’re reaching out quick, ready to console, but freeze when you let out a long-winded shriek. “WHAT?" you sputter, ”WHY?“

"Why?” Jimin says, hums, considering. “Because we like you. Maybe not love yet. But we’d like to,” he crouches so you’re both face-to-face, smiles soft, “we’d like to love you. If you let us.”

“But—” you feel the need to say something, but don’t know what. “But Jungkook?”

“Baby,” Taehyung’s crouching now, too, almost taking a hold of your hand but stopping himself, “we talk about this, like, every wednesday.”

“What? It’s, like, a reunion sort of thing?” You sputter, mouth agape.

Jimin huffs out a small laugh, almost of disbelief, slapping lightly at Taehyung’s shoulder, “No, no, Taehyung-ssi here doesn’t know what he’s talking about.” Taehyung tries to look serious, fails, and Jimin is smiling when he turns back to look at you. “We talk about it at least once a week, though.”

You still feel the need to say something but you feel like you’re running out of things to say. “But you’re all,” you run out of words then, gesture wildly at them from top to bottom.

Taehyung looks delighted. Jimin waits for you to elaborate, bites at his bottom lip when you don’t, asks tentatively, “…Yes?”

“You’re all— so pretty.” You mutter, exhausted. “And nice. And funny. And I’m just—” your arms drop to your sides.

“Little love,” Jimin’s the one to say, the one to get close, not afraid to get his clothes dirty as he shuffles towards you, “you’re also absolutely pretty, and nice, and funny, and beautiful.”

“I am?”

They grin. “You are.”

“Oh.”

The three want to date you. The three have wanted to date you for a while. The three are pretty and kind and make you feel seen, think you're pretty and kind, care enough to talk about it at least once a week and it all feels a bit unreal.

Your throat goes tight. You pick at your nail beds. Feel your blood pump the wrong way, its gentle waltz out seemingly of rhythm, one, two, three, one, two—what goes next?

“I–okay. Okay,” you stand up quick, rub some dirt off your knees, see Jimin point at them and giggle a bit. “Can we tell Jungkook? Do you wanna tell him now? I just. Don’t want him to feel left out.”

Jimin coos, takes a hold of your hand, kisses your temple after a second like he couldn’t help it. You think you hear Taehyung laugh from behind you.

They walk you home and you let them inside, their hands lingering on your back and on your shoulder, and Jungkook sputters when he sees you three, sitting up from the couch with a start. “Huh?” Is all he says.

“Hello!” Taehyung says with the biggest grin before getting straight to the point, "We confessed!“

"Y/n said yes!” Jimin adds, equally giddy.

“I’m a little drunk on punch!” You say, “But I still want to date you!”

Jungkook looks like a gaping fish for a second before there’s a twitch of his lips and then he’s smiling, slow and deliberate, pretty pretty pretty. He stands, pads over slowly and then quick, knocking the breath out of you, his arms tight. The rest join in and you’re all laughing and you’re all hugging and it feels like the beginning of something.

I want to be with you all,

then they’re all on you, soft and sweet, and

are you sure, and liked you for so long and are you super sure, don’t you need time to think, don’t you need more time to think, and smell so nice, you smell so nice, wait is that weird, and noona and little love and baby doll and—

they taste like love, like could-be love, and they feel like

y/n

home.

Jungkook’s planting tangerines in your backyard, spurred on by Jimin’s love for them. Taehyung’s there too, energetic and wild in a way only Taehyung can be, but gentle when he volunteers to fill up the watering can, patting and smoothing at the humid soil. He dyed his hair again. It’s the color of pink hyacinths now, the color of the punch he’d drank — pale-pink.

You’ve grown even more fond of your store. Or maybe you’ve grown more fond of what’s inside. Who’s inside. You like how it smells like licorice tea now, how Jimin always opens the windows to let the warm spring breeze inside, the vines and buds and flowers spilling inside like overeager children. You like the music that Taehyung plays on the speakers, jazz and Kehlani and the occasional Girl’s Generation. You like how your sheets always smell a bit like Jungkook.

Yoongi’s staring at you. He stares at a lot of people, but he’s been staring at you the most these days. You tear your gaze from the window, raising a brow at him as he occupies the entirety of the love seat in the corner that’s actually meant for two people. “Why’re you looking at me?”

“Ah.” Is all he says at first. You wait for some sort of sheepish smile, but it never comes. “Your aura. It's prettier these days.”

“Oh.” You blink. “What color is it?”

He turns, gaze shifting to the window you’d just been looking out of. You stare, too. Taehyung looks up just then, waves at you, a streak of dirt on his cheek. You smile lightly, wave back with the same amount of enthusiasm. When you look at Yoongi again, he’s already looking at you.

“You know when the sun is just about to set, and the sky is a mix of pinks and blues and oranges?” He smiles, a soft thing, and stands up. Touches lightly at an invisible barrier around you that’s not at all invisible to him. "That’s what it looks like. Like the gold of the sunset.“

a/n: here it is folks!! i didn’t like some of the scenes but i tried my best. some parts didn’t fit well here so i had to rearrange them a lot, and others i fit into the epilogue!! hope you enjoyed! spaced out is next i swear

#poly bts #poly bts x reader #hybrid au #vampire bts #werewolf bts #hybrid taehyung #vampire jimin #werewolf jungkook #bts x reader #bts #bts jungkook #bts taehyung #bts jimin #bts yoongi #bts namjoon #bts seokjin #bts hoseok #bts smut #witch bts #fanfiction #bts fanfiction #bts fanfic #bts fluff

[undertalethingems]

Bark at the Moon, Chapter 4: Antagonized

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Or read on my Ao3>

Rating, Setting: Gen, Pre-canon

Chapter Warnings: None?

Chapter Summary: Flowey’s run out of things to do. At least, he thinks he has.

Flowey flinched at heavy crashing further up the channel; it sounded like something big had fallen in the trash heaps. Big things didn’t come through often, so as bored as he was he figured he may as well check it out. It'd be wild if it were a human or something besides garbage, but he wasn't going to get his hopes up. He ducked into the murky water and burrowed through the mud below to pop up between the piles of garbage, the best vantage point for spotting anything new. Didn’t look like much… wait, that one looked lopsided. He popped up closer to it, peered around the refuse, then checked the other side and gasped.

A skeleton lay half-buried in the pile.

It wasn’t just any old skeleton—or any new skeleton, for that matter. Inching around, Flowey could make out the shape of the skull and knew he’d seen it before. Only, it hadn’t been attached to a body, or appeared outside of battle. All of this was new.

“Um, howdy! You alright there, friend?” he called, wondering what kind of response he might get. As it turned out, he got none. The creature just laid there, eye sockets closed. Flowey frowned, and extended a vine to poke its scapula. “Hello? What are you, dead?”

Fangs sheared through his vine in a blur, and he grunted at the pain. The creature’s jaws snapped open and Flowey braced himself for the next strike, but his nerves faded to curiosity as the beast seemed frozen, jaws still open and eyes wide but dark. Slowly, it reached up with heavy claws to tug at its own teeth, then shut its mouth and curled a hand tight around its snout as if to hold its jaws shut. A hushed, weary whine escaped from it, and Flowey thought the tone was familiar.

“Uh, hey there!” he tried again, and the creature slowly turned to face him. “Sorry to wake you, but you didn’t look so good. Are you okay?”

The creature seemed to think for a bit, and he wondered if it understood him until it bunched its shoulders up into a shrug. Of course it would, if it was one of his.

“Fair enough. I probably wouldn’t be doing too good if I’d just fallen into a pile of garbage too,” Flowey joked. “Wait here, I’ll get'cha something to eat.”

It wasn’t far to the cooler of astronaut food someone had left down here ages ago, and he picked a couple packets up before heading back to his interesting new pal. He’d never thought he’d be making friends with one of these, but maybe it’d tell him how to beat that smiley trashbag. He pushed his way back up through the mud, and presented the snacks to the creature.

“Okay! Here you go, just take the wrapper off and—yeah, pretty good right? If you’re into weird, dried-out food, anyway. How ya feelin’ now, buddy?”

The creature made a humming sound. It was weird how much it sounded like him, and the glowing cyan irises that now filled its sockets were also familiar, but Flowey tried to ignore that. Probably just side effects of who it belonged to.

“So what are you doing all the way out here? I bet Sans is looking for you, he doesn’t let you guys out like, ever. Say! My name’s Flowey by the way, Flowey the flower. What’s yours? Do you even have one?”

The creature narrowed its eyes, then extended its left paw. Flowey gave it his vine, his own eyes narrowed as they shook, and the thing he knew as a gaster blaster cleared its nonexistent throat.

“heya. i’m sans.”

Flowey felt his brain break. “…What.”

“you seem surprised. have we met before?” the creature—Sans—observed, slowly sitting back on his haunches.

“Gh—no,” Flowey replied shortly, trying to recover his composure. “Not properly! I-I mean, I’ve heard of you, so, I know of you.”

“of course you have, everyone knows me,” Sans agreed. He leaned closer, grin seeming to turn sharp despite the fact it was already made of jagged fangs. “now, the real question is… who did you think i was before i introduced myself?”

Flowey grimaced--he’d slipped up.

“listen pal... i don't wanna jump to any conclusions, but it seemed like you recognized me. and if that's true… i think we’ve met before, and it was NOT under good circumstances.”

He’d really slipped up. Sans was standing now, looming over him ominously. No, no—he wasn’t ready to end this run yet, not when it had finally gotten so interesting! Sans was too perceptive for his own good.

Sans grunted as vines wrapped around his limbs, lashing him to the heap of garbage before he could skip away. More vines whipped out and wound around his jaws—Flowey was taking no chances, not when he had something so new to toy with. Sans was supposed to be a round, talkative, terrifying jokester, not a weird animal. But here he was, covered in heavy spines and on all fours with a long tail. Flowey wasn’t sure what he’d do with him, but he could figure that out later. Right now, he wanted to take his prize somewhere no one would find it.

Sans gave a bit of token resistance, but eventually went limp and let Flowey drag him along through shadowy caverns. There was much of Waterfall still uninhabited—places where it was too dark, too damp, too cramped—corners where perhaps no one had set foot for centuries. Flowey worked his way along until he found a small cavern that seemed perfect—he couldn’t even hear the distant dull roar of rushing water, and the only light came from a few glimmering crystals embedded in the stony walls.

“Okay smiley trashbag, wakey wakey!” Flowey sang harshly as he deposited his captive. “We’re alone. Tell me what the hell you are.”

Sans lifted an eyelid to gaze at him. “why?”

“I’m the one asking questions here! Besides… I’ll kill you if you don’t! Hee hee!”

“hm. sure you will.”

"Yeah! It won't be hard!”

“nope.”

“So, you don’t care if you die… but maybe… your brother!” Flowey threatened with a wicked grin, only to be met with the same nonchalance.

“ok.”

Flowey glared at him. “What, you really don’t care about what happens to your beloved, precious Papyrus?”

Sans shrugged. “eh. if you’re what i think you are… then it doesn’t really matter what you do, does it?”

Flowey curled his lip. “I’ll make you watch as I dust him bone by bone! You’ll be haunted by his screams forever!”

“that’s… pretty messed up, my dude. you need to talk?”

“Don’t turn this around on me!” Flowey shrieked. “I’ll destroy EVERYONE and make you watch!”

“hm… well, chances are you’ve already done that at least once. after all, you know what i look like,” Sans replied. “but it doesn’t matter what either of us do. i accepted that a long time ago.”

“And that’s why you’re a lazy slob who never does anything,” Flowey stated with contempt.

Sans shrugged. “yup.”

“Ugh, whatever. It's way more interesting to keep you alive now anyway,” Flowey grumbled. “You’re even more of a freak than before. I wonder… does your brother know you’re like this? I wonder what he’d think if he saw you.”

“wouldn’t care.”

“…Wait, are you saying you wouldn’t care, or that he wouldn’t care?” Flowey pressed, and Sans shrugged yet again. He was so frustrating sometimes, and Flowey scowled. “Ugh. I know what I’ll do. As much as I’d love to finally kill you, I think I’ll keep you alive… as my pet. You’ve humiliated me too many times, and now I’m going to repay the favor!”

Flowey laughed until he noticed Sans was falling asleep.

“Hey! Wake up! You really don’t care what I’m going to do to you?!” He shook the vines restraining his prize, jostling him awake.

“hmm? eh… not really. can’t be worse than what i’ve already been through, so it doesn’t really matter,” Sans murmured in reply, snuggling against the rough stone floor despite how he was bound.

“W-well…” Flowey stumbled, “maybe… you don’t care now! But let’s see how you feel in a month! Maybe even longer! Hee hee hee!”

Sans shrugged again. “in that case, i’m going to sleep. wake me in a month, ok pal?”

Flowey growled and tightened his vines until Sans was pressed to the floor, and leaned in to leer at him. “You listen here, trashbag. By the time I’m done with you, you’ll be—”

Bones stabbed up from the floor inches from his face, and he leapt back with a yelp.

“i’ll be what, kid? broken? dusted? flower’s best friend?” Sans said, a deadly chill in his voice as he fixed Flowey with one piercing eye. “fine. you have fun trying. but don't think this is gonna be easy. i'm not some helpless puppy you picked up off the street. i'm not like ANYTHING you've seen before."

Flowey felt a shiver run through him as he stared into Sans’ dark sockets, but he pulled a smirk. “Hah! What do you think I am, an idiot? 'Cause I'm not.”

Sans only chuckled dryly. “you keep telling yourself that. i’m going to sleep.”

Flowey growled, but held back. He needed to strategize. Sans wasn’t someone he could just threaten into submission, and knowing his stats, he couldn’t torture him either if he wanted him alive. He’d have to come up with some other way to get to Sans--but for now it might be fun just watching what his absence would do to his friends. Another smirk curled at the corners of his mouth, and he ducked below-ground to head for Snowdin, making sure to keep his prize tied up tight. He knew what the world looked like with everyone but Sans gone--it was time to see the opposite.

#undertalethingem writes #gaster blaster au #bark at the moon fic #sans (undertale) #flowey (undertale) #flowey is a jerk~ #but he doesn't scare sans >> #the chapter title applies to them both =u= #as always let me know if i need to add any warnings

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Eye for an Eye : 3

Part 1 Part 2

Warnings: non/dub con sex

This is dark!Steve and explicit. 18+ only.

Summary: The reader tries to figure out her place in the brewing war.

Note: So here’s part 3. This is actually turning into a less than dark Steve (besides the whole mob thing and some murder) but hey, here ya go. Thanks everyone for your patience and for reading. <3 Let me know what you think!

…

Steve showered as you lingered in bed. As you listened to muffle patter of water you couldn't help but despair. Only a few days ago you had been alone in Charlie's bed and now you were sharing a cramped one with his enemy. It still didn't feel entirely right. As much as you could justify it with your former beau's disregard, you still felt low. Former…it was really over after so long in denial. Clinging to emotions which may never have been genuine. At least, not on his end.

When Steve emerged, he pulled on fresh clothes from the closet and tidied himself in the small bathroom mirror. He sat at the edge of the bed as he pulled on his leather shoes. He tied them and reached back to grasp your ankle poking out from beneath the crumpled duvet. You winced and hissed, drawn painfully from your self-pity.

"Shit, sorry," He turned as he removed his hand and examined your swollen ankle. "I guess that's a lesson learned the hard way."

"Guess so," You sat up with a sigh. "So what's it today? Am I to stay here buck naked and await your return?"

"For a time," He frowned, "Until we get you something to wear at least." He leaned over and kissed your cheek as you turned your lips away from him. You couldn't let this feel real. He stood and stretched as he paced the room. He pulled out a small notepad and pen from the corner table. "Make a list of what you need. Soap, make up, whatever it is you had in that lonely mansion."

"Yes, boss," You muttered dryly.

"Look, I'm trying. Didn't really think this out back in that kitchen. Wasn't planning on bringing anyone back," He pulled on his jacket and buttoned it once. "Not that I regret it. Shouldn't be long before Cindy gets here with some clothes. Oh, and write down your sizes too."

"Okay," You picked up the pad and pen. "I...thanks."

"I know it's a lot but you're going to have to get over Charlie real quick. I can assure you he's well and past it himself and you're as much an enemy to him as me now." He said pointedly. "Don't underestimate him. You may not have chosen your horse in this race but you're better off riding the one you've got."

You stared at him, your insides churning. "Don't you feel bad at all?"

"Remorse is not much of a virtue in this business," He neared the door, his hand resting on the handle as he glanced back at you, "Besides, I think I got the better end of this deal and a man can't complain when he gets what he wants."

He winked and left without awaiting a response. You were left in a whirlwind of confusion. You were angry at being moved like a pawn across the board and yet you could help the butterflies that took off every time he looked at you. Yet your powerless position made it all a little less ideal. You had lost Charlie long ago, you knew that, but this was more than a broken relationship. This was war and you were as good as a turncoat.

-

It wasn't too long after that the plump middle-aged Cindy arrived. She handed you a bag with a cheery enough greeting but seemed rush. Upon asking why she was in such a furor, she explained that she should be at Steve's actual house cleaning. She was his housekeeper and, it seemed, a lot more. You thanked her for her time and she went on her way with another harrumph.

You showered and dressed in the red blouse and pressed black pants. You were thankful that she had brought flats as your ankle still throbbed with every step. In the bag too was a sachet of basic toiletries and you did your best to primp yourself. You felt a little human again.

You were disturbed once more as you were sat in the armchair trying to keep yourself distracted. The knock was blunt and you didn't need to wait for your visitor to enter to guess at who it was. You stood as Bucky stepped inside, a smirk on his lips as you stood daintily on your sore ankle. He crossed his arms and waited by the open door.

"Let's go," He said. "Not carrying you either."

You shook your head and hobbled over to him, bracing the railing as you descended the stairs carefully. You took your time as Bucky huffed in irritation behind you. As you met even ground, he grabbed your arm and led you through the barroom and outside. A car waited for you and you were shoved in the back as Bucky took the driver's seat. Steve waited in the passenger's and grinned at you over his shoulder.

"You look well rested," He remarked, "Let me tell you, this is going to be so damn tiring."

"Where are we going?" You asked as you buckled up.

"To meet an old friend," He answered vaguely, "Sounded real eager to talk about a certain dumbass. Thought you might be interested in joining the conversation."

When the car finally stopped, you glanced up at the building before you and your shoulders dropped. You swore under your breath but not quiet enough as both men looked back at you.

"I take it you know Tony," Steve mused.

"Peripherally. He and Charlie met a few times...let's just say they weren't pals." You chewed your lip as you stared up at the extravagant tower. The richest man in New York and none so covert underworld king. "Don't think he'll appreciate my presence too much."

"Don't worry about Tony, he can be an ass but he's still rational." Steve climbed out and opened your door. "Just don't take it personal."

You waited in the lobby as Bucky parked and the three of you headed up to the top floor. The elevator was a godsend as just standing still was hell on your ankle.  You were greeted by Tony's infamous arm candy, Pepper, who showed you to his office. You didn't miss her side-eye as she did. She likely recognized you as well. While Charlie kept you clueless, you weren't entirely oblivious.

There were loud voices from the other side of the door and Pepper knocked before she opened the door and left Steve to lead the way. It was chaos within. A kid with reddish-brown hair was in a chair, whining as a grey-haired man dug a pair of tweezers into his bloodied shoulder. A woman with short scarlet locks told him to suck it up and Tony Stark raved angrily as he stomped around his office. He stopped short at your entrance.

"Finally!" He turned to Steve, "You wont believe what that rat has done now--What the fuck is she doing here?"

Tony reached for his holster and Steve inserted himself between you. "Don't. We're all friends here."

"Oh yeah. If only by circumstance." Tony kept his hand on his hip but didn't draw. "I hoped to stay out of this little war of yours but it seems I don't have a choice." The kid's whimpers continued in the background.  

"Yeah, Tony, you were just gonna let sacred ground be bloodied?" Steve challenged, "Really? As I recall I lost a few good men on behalf of a little turf war not long ago, one I could have as easily walked away from."

"He's an upstart. I didn’t wanna feed his ego. You do that and shit like this happens," He nodded to the kid as the bullet was finally dislodged from his flesh. "They shot the fucking kid on my ground. Can you believe that?"

"I warned you," Steve shrugged.

"Tell me you didn't come to rub it in," Tony snarled.

"I came because you asked me to," Steve countered. 

"And you brought her," Tony scowled at you. "You're fucking her, aren't you?"

"An irrelevant fact," Steve smirked, "You don't need to worry about her. I've got this under control."

"Control? Sure." Tony scoffed.

"Well, this is what happens when the old rules are broken. You let it slide and they all go to shit." Steve reproached, "You're the one who wanted to play the pacifist."

"I think you know that's not the case anymore so no need to keep rubbing it in," Tony hissed, "It's my war now, too. You heard from Strange?"

"Man's not as bold as you. Still haven't received his declaration of neutrality." Steve said pointedly. "Least you had the balls to tell me no."

"Strange?" Your ears pricked at the name, "Oh, you won't be getting anything from him."

"Why's that?" Tony tilted his head darkly as if offended by your voice.

"You really don't know?" You wondered aloud.

"What is it?" Steve urged.

"Charlie and Strange are cousins. Their mothers are sisters." You looked around the room tepidly, "He might not take up for Charlie, but he definitely won't go against him. Blood and all."

"You think this little game is gonna make you feel better about that pretty new blond on his arm?" Tony chuckled dryly. 

"This isn't a game," You peeked over at the boy as his shoulder was stitched up. "That much is clear."

"Jesus, Y/N, why didn't you say so earlier?" Steve interrupted before Tony could snipe back.

"You told me what I didn't know, you never asked me what I do know." You replied slyly, "Charlie may have kept secrets but he wasn't very good at it...clearly."

-

With a pact between two of the most powerful men in the city forged in blood, you left Stark Tower for the comfort of Steve’s mansion. Bucky was sent back to the bar to tend to business for the day as his boss swore to keep an ear open at home. You were relieved. You hated sitting alone in the loft and being a fly on the wall in his office was little better. Cindy was there and smiled as you followed Steve to the extravagant dining room. All this for one person; well, not entirely. Men like these often had a full house.

You were starving as a late lunch awaited you and you thanked the housekeeper for her hospitality. With Charlie, you had done most of the cooking yourself. There was a maid to tidy the rooms not often used but you took care of the rest. You didn’t like being kept like a pet. You wanted at least a degree of autonomy. You would take an ounce of agency if you were to be denied your independence.

You ate silently and finished with a sigh. Your fork clinked on the plate as you set it down. Steve looked up and gulped from his water. He had been as distracted as you though his thoughts were likely more focused on war plans. He raised a brow as he scratched his beard. 

“What’s up?” He asked as if breaking from a daze.

“You think Tony’s going to kill me?” You asked abruptly.

“What?” He almost laughed as he sat up in his chair.

“He hates me because of Charlie. He might think if he kills me, it’ll hurt Charlie.” You shrugged, “Would you let him?”

“Come on,” He shook his head, “Tony’s not going to kill you, okay? He’s mad right now because of the kid but he’s not an idiot.”

“I asked you if you would let him,” You repeated.

“Of course not. If I was going to let you get killed, I would’ve done it myself,” He scowled, “Now stop.”

“What do you expect? I feel powerless here. I’m just supposed to hang off your arm as you make your battle plans.” You slumped in your chair. “I’m not stupid enough to ask you to trust me but a little slack on the leash would be nice.”

“The last time I allowed you an inch, you took a mile,” He smirked, “There’s a lot of windows in this place.”

“I didn’t really think that out, did I?” You scoffed. “I got nowhere to go. We both know that. I’d not only be on your hit list, but Charlie’s and Tony’s.”

“Sorry but you’re just going to have to suffer me a little bit longer,” He shrugged, “Gonna have to do a lot more to earn my forgiveness.”

He leaned forward with a lurid smirk. You caught his meaning and rolled your eyes. Despite his fixation on his vengeance, he seemed even more obsessed with his libido. In the two days you had been with him, he hadn’t shied away from the topic. And when you did get into it, he’d worn you out. Even in your early love blind days, you and Charlie had never fucked that rampantly.

“Yeah, yeah, don’t you have a war to worry about?” You pouted. “Maybe try to keep your mind on that.”

“You make it difficult,” He chuckled as he leaned back in his chair.

-

That night you laid awake in bed. It was different from the one before. This one was the one in which Steve truly resided. It smelled of him. He was next to you; sleeping soundly after his usual rapacious activity. You watched him, a low rumble rising from his chest with each breath. His snores were quiet and calming. Even so, you couldn’t sleep.

You wondered how everything could change so fast. It hadn’t been so long ago that you had been sleeping beside another mafioso. Fucking him. Well, that hadn’t been as often. Now you were in the bed of his enemy; you were his enemy. You rolled over and held your head in your hands. You recalled the night in the kitchen; the river of blood which flowed from Robert’s body. The man next to you was a murderer; the man before him was too. When had you become so callous? How could you ignore the plight of others for your own desires?

Well, you didn’t have much of a choice now. When had you truly had a choice in all this? It was kill or be killed. That much was clear after your meeting with Stark. If it hadn’t been for Steve, he’d have made you atone for Charlie’s sins. You peeked over at Steve; still unaware of your internal struggle. You carefully pushed yourself up, careful not to jostle the bed as you stood. Your ankle reverberated with pain and you held back a squeak.

You searched the room and found a tee in one of his drawers. You had never seen him in anything but his usual tailored suit. You wondered if he was anything but the cool and collected mobster. You pulled the shirt over your head, the hem fell below your thighs. You tiptoed, rather limped, around the bed and neared the double doors which led to the Mediterranean style balcony. You turned the handle slowly and stepped out into the night air.

You neared the rail and looked out to the trimmed hedges that framed the long driveway. The yard was shrouded in shadows, the moonlight speckled along folded leaves and marble statues. You peered down along the immaculate landscape and shivered. It wasn’t the chill that made you tremble but the thought of what was to come. War. Charlie had gotten into some shit before, but nothing like this. You had never expected to be on the other side.

You gripped the rail as a dark figure appeared from beneath the balcony. Your other hand was on your chest as the movement frightened you. It was a moment before you recognized the silhouette and only seconds before he was glaring up at you. Even in the dark, you could feel the spite of the loyal henchman. You returned his heated gaze through the grey as he came to a halt. You didn’t fault him your distrust. A woman who spread her legs for her place garnered little more than contempt.

The door shifted slightly behind you and footsteps neared. You turned as Steve emerged in little more than he slept in; nothing. You were embarrassed and tried to hide your face from the man below you. You heard Bucky’s retreat as Steve came up behind you, his arms encased you as he rested his hands on the railing. 

“What’s wrong?” His voice was thick with sleep as his hot breath whisked across your scalp.

“Nothing, I just...couldn’t sleep.” You shrugged and he leaned in to nuzzle your hair. “You know, I went to uni for English Lit?” You shook your head with a dry chuckle, “How’d I ever end up here?”

“Oh?” He lifted his head, his tone curious. “Well, you seem the type...I mean, I could see you now. Perky little sorority sister.”

“Ha, no, nothing like that,” You scoffed, “Straight A’s. I had a scholarship to maintain. More a sweater vest and glasses type.”

“Even better,” He slipped his hands from the railing and found your hips beneath the loose tee, “What happened to the glasses?”

“I didn’t exactly get a chance to grab my contacts,” You shrugged, “They were just for reading anyway. Not doing much of that anyway.”

“You shouldn’t dwell on the past,” His hand slid up your stomach and his fingers tickled you through the cotton. “The present is much more...interesting.”

“I know,” You sighed and stilled his hand. You turned to him, trapped between him and the stone railing. “I’m more worried about the future. What happens after? Win or lose, where do I go?”

“You don’t have to go,” He twined his fingers through yours. 

“You say that now. It won’t be long before you follow in Charlie’s wake. Trust me.” You insisted, “I… ended up exactly where I never wanted to; dependent on someone else.”

“No, you’re not,” He returned, “You won’t be. Not if you keep yourself involved. I want you involved. I want you to know everything--”

“So you can win your war,” You frowned, “The war will end and after that, I won’t be so useful.”

He brought your hand to his lips and kissed the back of it softly. “So pessimistic,” He said as he began to back away. He drew you with him as he kept hold of your hand. “I’m telling you, I could never tire of you.” 

“Stop,” You touched your cheek with your free hand as it burned. “Don’t lie to me.”

“In all of this, when have I lied to you?” He asked as he led you through the door. “Tell me.” You shook your head. He hadn’t. “Well?” He waited; no answer.  He walked backwards until his legs touched the bed and he sat, pulling you between his legs. “So, just give me the benefit of the doubt. At least until the shit hits the fan.”

You couldn’t help the subtle curve of your lips as you let go of his hand. You brought your hands to his shoulders and bent to kiss him. He was voracious as he met your lips with his usual hunger. He rolled the shirt up your torso as he held you between his knees. You lifted your arms and he parted only to remove the cotton. His mouth crashed back into yours and he fell back on the bed taking you with him.

He rolled over so that you were beneath him, your legs hung over the edge. His hand grazed your thigh as he felt around for your most sensitive spot. He had learned the curves and kinks of your body so quickly. You were already wet. The moment he had come up behind you on the balcony you had felt the rush. He slipped his fingers between your folds and cloyingly dragged them to your clit. You moaned into his mouth as he pressed down, twirling his fingertips so that your thighs twitched. You squeezed his hand between your legs as he played with you, his lips left yours as you turned your chin up with a gasp. He kissed and nibbled along your jaw and neck as he stirred your nerves into a flurry. Your muscles clutched and released all at once and you exclaimed in surprise as your climax rose quicker than ever before.

He drew back and leaned on his shoulder as he looked down at you. His blue eyes sparkled in the dark as his finger traced the line of your vee. He led you wordlessly, pulling your body up entirely onto the mattress. He was on top of you once more, his lips on yours, then your cheek, neck, jaw, collarbone. He paused as he reached your breasts and looked up at you. You shyly returned his gaze and he smiled. 

“You’re beautiful, you know that?” He hummed before he lowered his head.

He explored every inch of your body before making his way back up to your lips. You bent your legs around him in welcome. He reached down as he kept his mouth on yours and positioned himself at your entrance. He pushed inside slowly as his hand came up to cradle your face. He sighed into your mouth as he delved into you a little at a time. Your body trembled as he filled you entirely.

He began his motion languidly. His body brushing against yours. You draped your arms around his shoulders as you clung to the delight. Your legs wrapped around him as he kept his pace deliberate, groaning with each stroke. You breathed in time with his thrusts, his warmth flowed through you like electricity. Every nerve, every muscle, every inch of flesh fizzled against him.

He did not quicken much, his pace steady; tantalizing. Your orgasm struck you once more by surprise. Rising from the calm waves so suddenly you nearly screamed. Steve buried his face in your neck as he thrust into you as deep as he could, every time bringing himself to the limit before pulling out evenly. His shoulders tightened under your hands, your nails digging into his muscles as a second peak rose in quick succession.

He growled into your flesh as his hips snaps forward decisively and his motion turned erratic; jarring. His ground his pelvis into yours in one last thrust, his body seizing atop of you as he panted into your sweaty skin. He lingered as you hugged him to you and he cradled you beneath him. Slowly, he kept you flush to him as he rolled you both onto your side. 

“Don’t think about tomorrow,” He whispered. “Just focus on right now.”

He remained as he was, lost in the rapture as his eyes closed. You mirrored him as your breath calmed and the sweat on your skin cooled. You flinched when he began to move again. Rocking within you as his cum began to seep out around his cock. Your thighs grew slick from the mixture of your juices and you hooked your leg over his as you forgot about the dread which had kept you awake. There was only that moment. Only him.

+  tags: @meaganottiz02 @patzammit @thepettyavenger @biasedtitties @thosecikinnn @glitterypinkkitty @thoughtlesstales @selinbaskaya @lattaex @vitamingrant @lilithhellfire @bbyspiiice @ironlady1993 @blackpantherimagines @kweenkxtrina @heavenlyblyss @letsagomario @shikin83 @collette04 @thirstyforsomeyandere @secretlyactivated @xxm3xxj @roses-and-absinthe @asleep-amid-the-flowers @sunstarskyhappiness @xxxelettaxxx @honeyofthegods @rainbowkisses31 @alphabloodfur @xdatbitch @quant-um-fizzx @couldntbedamned @scarletlingeries @directionerfae @bodhi-black @kyllorren @captainarp @sargeant-bbarnes @tuyetnhivo @heartislubbingdubbing @kiwihoee @vanishingod @aekr @purpliepanda @arkhamsanity @lazinessisalliknow @grossceleste @fkngparadise @karabear0091 @jordysgirl87 @amelia-acero @praziameia @steadypetty @shayrey @spn-marvel-nerd @kissedbythedarkness @fandomkolors @biba3434 @marvel-fan23  @hannahxem @noteyebox @titty-teetee @irritatinglilliputian @educationalandphysicalmess @mochachoka @bemyvalentineforeverandever @thethortoisein221b @givemoimyuwusback @amazonian-strap-queen @tony-stank3 @criedwolfwritings @egirlfairy @roseplusess @hollandhours @breezy1415 @alexakeyloveloki @beautiful-and-strange @phoenix21love @momc95 @buckycaptspideypool @justballoonfishthings @ms-munchkin @whosmarisaaarw @kxllyxnnx @calspixie  @imdiegohargreeves @satinprincessxo @amethyst-the-thot@docharleythegeekqueen @iiqueer-vibesii @carol-damn-vers @l0rd-disick @jilldsumner @hufflebucky @lanabanana-86 @nerdypinupcrystal @notyourtypicalrose  @pink1031 @agent-spidey @wassupbitchesssss @lucifersnipnips @stuckybarton @ruff-m3rc @heartbeats-wildly @tea-with-seb @the-lululemon @abesottedlass @poppyshawn @obsesseds-world @jazztherebel @desir-ae @adreamemporium @ashrod98  @buckyxwintersxldier @buckybarneshairpullingkink @kastheabsolutepessimist @daggersofloki @odinson-barnes @marvelmaree @they-call-me-le  @wintersoldier1017@supernaturaldean67 @brokensunflowersworld @basementcafe @imkloeyjarvis @periodtcevans @averyrogers83  @sagechanoafterdark

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers #mafia!steve rogers #mafia steve rogers #mafia au #dark!steve rogers x reader #dark steve rogers x reader #dark steve rogers #dark!steve rogers #series #au #fic #marvel #mcu #cark!verse #dark verse

[forkanna]

[AO3] [WATTPAD] [QUOTEV]

NOTE: Happy birthday to me! Though this might be posted right AT midnight my time, so technically after my birthday. Also, there won't really be much smut this chapter; just coupley fluff and a hint of steaminess.

                                                        CHAPTER SIX

"Well, you two sure are snug as bugs in a rug."

Chie scowled over at Yosuke as they sat around on the school roof, ploughing their way through plastic bowls of instant miso ramen. "I don't have any idea what you're talking about."

"I'm talking about this." He leaned way forward, headphones slipping around on his neck as he poked his chopsticks between her and Yukiko's arms. And touched both of them. "You've been glued at the hip all day!"

"We have not." Cheeks having taken on the vaguest of rosy tints, Yukiko pretended to find her ramen much more interesting as she daintily drew the noodles into her mouth. She did slurp, but it was somehow a polite slurp; Chie never knew how she did it, while she was over there making enough noise to tell the whole school what she was eating for lunch.

"I mean, do you think I'm dumb? Let me rephrase," he cut Chie off when she held up a finger to respond, taking a deep breath as well. "I'm not dumb. I can see that something's different. Like, all day has been a chick clique, with me and Narukami all benched over here."

"I haven't felt 'benched'," Yu put in very mildly, though he had also been glancing at the two girls just as curiously.

Finally, Yukiko broke her silence, though she was still staring down into her lunch. "I think you're making a lot out of nothing, Hanamura-san. There's nothing wrong with two friends spending time together, especially after going through something so harrowing."

"'Hanamura-san'? Geez, it's like that, huh?" Yosuke sighed, scratching the back of his neck.

"Listen to Yuki-chan," Chie snapped. "Like, it's none of your business, anyway. But yeah, we're just hanging out! You think it's weird? For two girls to be friends?"

"No! But I don't think that's the only thing going on here." Squinting slightly, he pointed at Chie with his chopsticks again. "I think there's a lot more than just 'gals being pals', y'know? Like, Class S-"

"God, here we go," she groaned with a huge roll of her eyes as she set her bowl aside. "You and your 'everything is dirty' brain, you pervert." She stood up and cracked her neck, then started rolling her arm around to loosen her shoulder. Immediately, he was throwing up both hands to ward her off.

"Wait, wait! Hey, I don't think there's any call for violence, exactly! C'mon, what's the big deal in me pointing out what it looks like?!"

"The 'big deal' is that you're trying to make something normal into some gross fantasy in your brain!"

"Hey, can you blame me? After what we saw in the TV… I mean, your shadows were really into it…"

Instantly, he was being kicked down to sprawl out on his back by a very irate Chie. Limbs flailing everywhere, he tried to fend off the brown loafer that continued to descend upon his face and chest repeatedly for the next few seconds. "AH! CHIE! FOR CHRISSAKE, CUT IT OUT WILLYA?!"

"MAYBE QUIT BEING A GROSS PIG AND I WILL!"

While he was still trying to protect his face, Yu commented calmly, "The gross pig has a point. If shadows are part of who you are, it's not such a strange question to ask."

"Et tu, Yu?" Yukiko sighed, frowning down at her bowl. "Isn't it bad enough we had to be there while you two saw the other us… doing such things?"

"You say that like it wasn't the best show of my life!" Yosuke chuckled — earning him a fresh strike to the mouth with a rubber sole. "RGH! Okay, get off, I'm kinda done!"

Finally reclaiming her spot next to Yukiko, Chie grumbled, "Me too. Like, stop being so disgusting."

"Oh yeah?" He sighed and shook his head. "What a waste lesbians are."

While Yukiko's head began to sink lower, Chie's face burst a few capillaries as she snapped, "WHAT?! Okay — listen, you jackass! Y-you don't even know what you're- and what do you mean, a 'waste'?!"

"Like, that's two less girls for the rest of us," he continued to protest as he stirred his noodles. "Hard enough for some guys to get dates without some chicks pairing off with each other."

Chie took a deep breath to reply… but to her surprise, it was Yu who said, "I think that's ignorant. They should be able to date whoever they want."

"What?" Eyebrows sky high, he snapped, "Yu, bro… how can you stab me in the back like this?"

"Stop being dramatic. And I'm sure there will still be plenty of girls to ask out. Don't you have someone you're interested in? Anyone at all?"

"Risette," he sighed wistfully. When the other three were blinking at him in surprise for a few seconds, he cleared his throat. "I-I mean, that Ebihara is hot. But I dunno, I don't have any game."

"You really don't," Chie confirmed.

"Whoa, shots fired…"

"What do you expect, man? You treat girls like Pocky flavours, just trying to pick which one suits your mood today. Seriously, do you even care about how they feel? Whether or not their personalities match yours? You just seem to care if they have big boobs and nice hair."

Taken aback, he finally set his ramen aside. "What the hell, Satonaka? I thought we were friends, and you're like, totally ripping me a new one here! What did I ever do to you?"

"For starters, you told me and Yukiko that we're 'too close' and a 'waste of space'."

"Hey, I never said 'waste of space'. Just like, a waste of two really gorgeous, available women."

"Lies! You have never thought I was gorgeous."

"Oh. Good point." This time, she actually took her loafer off and threw it at his head. "WHOA! Hey, hey — I wanna live, I WANNA LIVE!"

                                                        ~ o ~

Despite trying her best to focus on positive thoughts, Chie's blood was still boiling well after school let out for the day. She kicked a can down the quaint, lazy street toward the rest of Inaba, still grumbling about how chauvinistic he was and that they were better off not dealing with someone who didn't even see them as fellow humans.

"He isn't that bad," Yukiko snickered. "He could use some work, but… you know he doesn't really believe those things."

"Yeah? Well I think he's worse than we think!"

"How can he be worse than you think if you already think he's worse?"

"That's… well…" Pouting, she watched her footsteps for a while as they paced through the homey little downtown district. "Y-you know what I meant. Like, I know he's a boy, but so is Yu and at least he's halfway decent. There's no excuse!"

"Maybe not." They were quiet for a moment. "Um, do you want to stop by Souzai Daigaku? Grab a couple of croquettes?"

Chie knew what she was doing. Obviously this was a ploy to distract her from her ranting about their friend's misogynistic tendencies. And… it worked, but only because she knew Yukiko didn't like gossiping all that much and wanted to spare her. "For sure. I crave meat — oh, and a lemon soda."

"Okay," Yukiko chuckled as she slid her arm through Chie's. The action seemed to bring both of them to a sudden halt, and she blinked. "Oh. That's strange, I… I didn't mean to do that. But it felt very…"

"Natural," Chie supplied. After only a tiny hesitation, she raised a hand to rest on Yukiko's wrist, keeping her there. "It's cool. I don't think anybody's gonna pay attention… we probably won't, uh… be noticed…"

Nodding her agreement, they continued to walk arm in arm. Despite her confident words, Chie's heart was racing. Somebody was going to call them yuri — make some kind of gay joke, or even just a simple catcall would be a fate worse than death. But maybe they wouldn't be seen at all.

They were.

"Ohhh, so pretty!"

The two looked around for a moment, trying to find the source of the compliment and figure out why it was even made. But nobody was closeby. Had they imagined it?

"Oh!" Yukiko breathed when she finally looked down.

A small elementary school girl was standing in front of them, wide smile and brown pigtails radiating pure innocence. Her little pink dress was on over a white turtleneck. Chie found herself wanting to pick her up and put her on a shelf, she was so adorable.

"Awww, hello there!" she gushed with an equal grin.

"Oh, I'm sorry!" The girl gave a little bow. "Are you two on a date? I didn't mean to stop you!"

"Wh-WHAT?!"

But Yukiko led with, "N-no, it's okay. But what did you think was pretty?"

"You! I mean, I've never seen a girl as pretty as you, ever — 'cept maybe Risette! But she's a star. Nobody as pretty as Risette would be in Inaba."

While she was still trying to recover her voice, Chie squatted down to ask, "Hey, what's your name?"

"Huh? Oh, I'm Nanako." Then she seemed to remember her manners and bowed. "N-nice to meet you."

"Likewise," she chuckled. "And you're right, this is the most beautiful woman in the whole world."

"Really?" she breathed in wonder — while Yukiko made flustered noises beside her.

"Yep! And we're really lucky to see her! They say she only appears to little girls who have been really good this year."

While Nanako was looking completely enthralled, Yukiko tutted, "Don't fill that poor girl's head with nonsense!" But she was blushing a bright red to match her sweater.

"Sorry," Chie laughed, though she didn't sound especially sincere about her apology, before she turned to pet the little girl on the head. "It was nice meeting you, but we have a date with meat."

"Okay!" she breathed, still obviously very taken with the idea of a magically appearing prettiest girl in the universe. She waved distractedly as the two moved off toward the restaurant.

"Well she didn't seem to mind that we were arm-in-arm."

Yukiko smiled through her rosy, embarrassed expression. "You're terrible. But… I suppose I appreciate the compliment. Thank you."

Now they were both flustered. Luckily, their trip to Souzai Daigaku in silence could help them temporarily forget they were in the middle of such a touchy, anxiety-inducing conversation.

Which only lasted until Chie was halfway through her order of way too many croquettes. Yukiko had mostly just been watching her devour them with wide eyes, both disgusted and impressed as she nibbled at her own single croquette.

"WHOO!" she burst out. "This is great! Time for dinner now."

"Time for- you really are a bottomless pit." When Chie only saluted like an American soldier, she giggled. "Wow. Do you want to head into Aiya for a beef bowl? I'm not hungry, but… I don't mind spending more time with you."

Obviously that got her best friend grinning like a loon. "R-really? I mean, you know I'm going to be taking the portal to the meat dimension."

"Oh? I thought they only served that on rainy days."

"Well… they'll make it for me, since I'm one of their best customers. But I have to pay more if it's not raining. Seems like a fair trade-off." She finished off her croquette and stood. "Ready?"

Still caught off guard, she blinked and stood beside Chie. "Lead the way."

The Chinese diner happened to be right next door to the croquette stand, so it wasn't as if they had a long walk ahead of them. Chie pulled her to the door by the hand, and Yukiko stumbled briefly before adapting to the quickened pace, sliding her arms around her prince's to steady herself. All smiles. They were so giddily in love, even though they hadn't been at all aware of said love a couple of days ago. Life could change so fast…

"Welcome!" said a girl in a red apron with short blue hair and a white scarf covering most of it — which was most of what one could see, given that she was already bowed low in greeting. "How may we serve you?"

"Hey, Nakamura!" Chie said casually enough. "Not out on deliveries today?"

The server straightened and shrugged with a smile. "Nope, Satonaka-san." Clearly she was being formal because they were customers, but her tone and expression was full of familiarity. "Booth in the back?"

"Sure! And you already know what I want. Yukiko?"

"Oh, just a small order of zhēngjiǎo," she told her with a wave of her hand. "And green tea. Thank you, Aika-chan."

"With chicken?" Yukiko nodded, and Aika beamed. "I'll have those out for you right away. Please have a seat."

They made small talk until their food arrived a few minutes later. Chie plunged into the mega beef bowl with gusto while her new girlfriend daintily nibbled at her plate of steamed dumplings. Halfway through, she began to pet up and down Chie's back with her free hand.

"Hmhg?" Chie asked around a mouthful of beef, eyes wide when she turned them on her. Yukiko giggled, which only made her grin — while morsels of food dropped from her lips.

"YUCK!" she cackled, while Chie blotted at her mouth with a napkin. "I'm actually dating a pig!"

After having swallowed down the rest of her mouthful, she laughed and nudged Yukiko with her shoulder as she started to dig into the fried egg on top of the bowl at last. "Sorry, sorry. But like, it was hilarious watching you get grossed out." Which only earned her the daintiest tongue sticking out at her.

They lapsed back into a comfortable silence for a few more minutes. This time, when Yukiko pet her back, Chie didn't overreact; just hummed and relaxed into the gentle touch. It really was a night and day difference. Instead of making them feel awkward and weird, now it was warm, and safe… it felt like a little piece of home could be created wherever and whenever they chose.

"I really… can't believe how easy this is."

"Mm," Chie hummed around her mouthful before reaching over to lay a hand on her bestie's forearm under the table. Once she managed to chew and swallow it down, she whispered, "It's pretty crazy, I can't believe I'm starting to get used to this. Keep thinking you're going to snap out of it and like, tell me to get away from you. Because I'm… whatever it is I am."

Yukiko tutted at her as she wrapped both arms around Chie's, laying her head on her shoulder. "You say that like it's just you. Not both of us. Maybe you had those thoughts about me first but clearly I'm not running away. So…"

When she didn't finish right away, she prompted, "What?"

"So, um… don't be so…" She swallowed. "Don't be mean to yourself. Don't put it all on you, especially when I'm happy. This is a good thing, not a death sentence."

"O-oh, I never- I didn't mean it was bad! Just like, weird, and it's gonna get people saying weird stuff about us. Like Yu and Yosuke already keep doing."

"They should be ashamed of themselves," she sighed as she dipped another jiaozi into the tiny pool of sauce. "Well… Yosuke should especially, but Yu was also too persistent."

Shaking her head, Chie stirred the contents of her bowl angrily. "Oughtta stomp all over those two. Like, it's none of their business! I don't care what they saw in the TV!"

"Shhhh, I'm sorry." Yukiko pet her thigh now, kissing the side of her neck. "I didn't mean to get you upset. Even though I do agree with you. So… relax, alright? Enjoy the meal."

But that presented a brand new development for Chie. Her stomach fluttered as she realised they weren't just cuddling, or being good friends. Food was now completely gone from the forefront of her mind. They were together, in public, and Yukiko was touching her leg. That thin uniform skirt was the only protection from getting to fully enjoy the warm smoothness of her dainty hand.

"Y-Yuki-chan…"

"What? Is something wrong?"

The hand came to a stop, yet Chie was still breathing shallow and rapid when she said, "O-oh, nothing, I just… I'm having a good time. With you! Yeah, with you, um… h-honey."

Both Yukiko's flawlessly-shaped eyebrows shot up. "Honey?!"

"SHHHH!" she hissed at her desperately. "I don't know, I've never had a girlfriend before! Or boyfriend! An ANY-gender-friend!"

"Oh, my honey!" Yukiko snickered in English, entire face lighting up. Lapsing back into her native tongue, she purred, "I think it's really sweet. Funny, but sweet."

"Oh, shut up, Honey!"

"Wow, that isn't very nice. And here I'm being so affectionate toward you."

Though Chie's mouth opened to protest, no sound came out when she felt impossibly soft lips barely pressing into the corner. This was insane! Anybody could see them — anyone from school, from in and around their neighbourhoods. The proprietors of Aiya. All of Inaba. Not only was the hand still teasing her leg, but it seemed to be heading down toward her knee. The hem of her skirt.

"Yukiko… this is so bad, what happens if they catch us?! We're gonna be out to the whole freaking town!"

Snickering a little, the innkeeper whispered into her ear conspiratorially, "Nobody's watching us, I promise. Look around." Her other hand casually gestured to the inside of the restaurant, where couples, men dining alone, groups of students eating while they studied, filled its interior. None of them were looking in their direction.

"A-ah. But…" Chie licked her lips as she felt her skirt being hiked up by the playful fingertips. "They could still… turn around and see you doing this… isn't that illegal, anyway?"

A little at a time, Yukiko's playful smirk faded and she dipped her head as her hand came to a stop. "Sorry, my Prince. I guess I just really want to make you feel good, and it seems exciting to do it right here, but... you're right, it's too risky. I don't know what got into me!"

"Oh, hey…" She put an arm around Yukiko's shoulders, pulling her in close against her body. "I'm not mad or anything. Just like, freaked out at the idea. Do you still wanna try it?"

"No," Yukiko told her with a small smile. "Well… yes, but it isn't that urgent. We should finish our food."

"You sure?"

"Yes. I don't want to make you choke on your beef bowl, anyway."

A little snort fell from her girlfriend's lips. "C'mon, I could handle both at the same time. Probably. I'm only iffy about it because I don't wanna get caught and thrown out of my favourite restaurant."

"Really? Because I don't think I could!" They both laughed a little, and Yukiko leaned up to kiss her cheek again. "But if you're sure you don't mind experimenting… we could see what happens."

"Yeah." She nodded to further drive home how serious she was. "Hit me. If I can't handle it, I'll tap out."

"Tap out?"

"Yep! You know, in American wrestling when they're… done with… yeah, no reason you would know that. They tap the mat in a super obvious way to show they give up. So like… I'll do this."

When Chie tapped the edge of her bowl twice with her chopsticks, Yukiko's eyes hyperfocused on the action and she nodded. "Ah, I see! Yes, I will definitely understand that action's meaning now."

"It's not that serious," she muttered. But then Yukiko was petting the inside of her thigh again, and all she could do was grunt to keep from moaning. "O-ohhhh… oh, we're… starting again."

Not just starting. Yukiko's nimble digits were making their way straight to her panties, no waiting. Chie felt her stomach disappear as she anticipated the touch hitting home at last. Any second now…

"YOU."

They both nearly fell off their chairs at the sudden sharp word issued from so close by. Trying not to appear as flustered as they were, the two girls looked up to see a near-flawless face gazing down at them marred by a haughty, annoyed expression. Her blonde-highlighted hair hung around her face in elaborate curls that had obviously taken a long time to fashion, just brushing the lacey pink choker wrapped around her throat — like Chie already wished her hands were, and they had barely begun a conversation.

"Ebihara," Chie breathed as her blood ran cold.

"What?" Ai Ebihara snapped, resting a hand on one hip as she cocked it out to the side. "Can I help you with something?"

"Uhhhhh, you came up to me, dude. What do you want?"

That response made her scoff loudly. "Nothing from some bowl-cut reject. I was talking to the priss."

While Chie was trying to ignore the vein throbbing in her forehead, Yukiko sat up a little straighter and pointed at her own chest. "Me?!"

"God, you're both idiots. There are only two people at this table, so if it's not the bowl cut, guess who it has to be?"

"Hey, watch it," Chie warned her as she leaned an elbow on the table. "Tell us what the hell you want or get out of here."

Scowling at her, Ebihara flipped her hair over her shoulder gracefully before edging into a chair across from them. Which was exactly the opposite of what they wanted; they were kind of in the middle of something! Couldn't she go away and come back another day, much like other black clouds?

"You have something I'm after. Give me that and I'll leave you to your pedestrian food."

Yukiko must have been sensing that her friend was going to stand up and shout at the interrupting annoyance, because she started petting up and down her thigh again. Soothing this time rather than teasing. "And what might I have that you want? I'm sorry, but I truly don't know."

"Narukami," she said without preamble.

"What about Narukami?" Chie asked suspiciously.

"I want him."

The other two girls exchanged a look. Where the hell was this coming from?! "U-uhhh…"

"Don't act so surprised. He's such a tall, mysterious stranger from so far away… practically the only boy at Yasogami who's remotely interesting. And you have been hogging him to yourself long enough. Fork him over."

"Wait, wait," Yukiko giggled nervously, hand flexing on Chie's thigh. She had to bite the inside of her cheek to keep from letting out a yelp of surprise. "You don't think… I'm actually dating Yu, do you?"

"I didn't say anything as heavy as 'dating'," she shot back with a roll of her honey-hued eyes. "But I've seen you two together a few times. How you smile at him. It's loathsome, but I can't deny you have an in with him that I do not… yet."

"We're friends, Ai-san. That's all, I promise!"

Her eyes narrowed as Yukiko pet higher. Chie had to fight to stay focused on the conversation. "Hmm. I could almost believe you…"

"Please do. I have no reason to lie to you."

"Very well. Let's say you are being straight with me. How can I turn his little grey-haired head — what's the story with that grey hair, too? Dye job, genetic thing?"

Before this point, Chie had been mostly nodding along, waiting for the tortuous exchange to come to an end. But something going on beneath the table now had her undivided attention. Yukiko had not stopped in her advance. Her fingers were now teasing the insides of her thighs dangerously close to her center as she kept her eyes pointed squarely at Ebihara.

"U-um…" But when their guest turned a glare on her, she shut up.

"Yu seems to really enjoy a lot of things," Yukiko quickly said to draw her attention back.

"A lot of… things." Ai raised an eyebrow at her. "Is that seriously as specific as you can get?"

"N-no, not at all. Maybe… if you could be more specific yourself, I can be more helpful. I don't mind, I'm just not sure exactly what your goal is."

As Ebihara contemplated, Chie found herself wondering the same question about Yukiko. What was her goal?! There was no way they were actually going to test out their friendship's newfound sexual component while sitting across a restaurant table from the prima donna of Yasogami High. Was there?!

"Well, I guess I'm curious why he hasn't asked me out yet," Ebihara said as Aika returned to their table. "Ever since I was made manager of the… I'm sorry, may we help you?"

Blinking at the cold tone, the waitress said, "U-um, I was going to ask the same thing. What can I get you, miss?"

"Nothing from this craphole." But when nobody followed up that statement, and Aika just scowled, she sighed. "Green tea. Unless you do boba here." The wince was enough to communicate they did not, so she sighed and waved her away, "Just regular old tea then, and take your time. I don't eat at places like this."

As poor Aika stomped away, Chie grunted, "You could h-haaaave been nicer to her."

Unfortunately, that near-moan didn't escape Ai's notice. "Your time of the month or something? You look like you're having some wicked cramps."

"Y-yeah," she said, figuring it was the easiest explanation. The girl made a disgusted face but didn't further pursue that line of questioning; all girls understood that one, right? Plus it took the heat off her from Yukiko's fingers gliding slowly up and down along her slit through the all-too-thin fabric of her undergarment.

"Anyway, I think he's really cute, and he irritates me a lot less than the other boys on the team. Plus when he works up a sweat during practice…" For a brief moment, while she was biting her lip and trying not to smile, she almost looked like a normal girl.

"So you have a crush on him," Yukiko said as casually as she could… while still driving her best friend crazy.

"Uh, yes? Hello? What other conclusion could you reach from what I just said?!"

"Of course, of course. Well, why don't you just ask him out instead?"

Ai scoffed and pressed a hand to her chest as if scandalised by the very notion. "ME?! Look at me. I'm stunning, and I work hard to be this stunning. What's the point in doing so if not so that the boys are the ones to fall at my dainty feet?"

Chie had to chance it, even though she was very nearly panting like a dog in heat. The comment was begging for a rebuttal. "I've… never h-heard someone describe their own feet as dainty before."

"Yeah? Well, stay tuned for more originality, courtesy of moi." Even though she was so elegant-looking, it was such a jarring, brutish move when she suddenly slapped her calf on top of the table, making the dinnerware clatter. "LOOK. Look at them."

Yukiko and Chie both blinked down at her now-shoeless foot. It was covered by her white stockings, of course, but it seemed dainty enough in size. So Chie said, "Yep, that's a foot."

"It, um, seems lovely?" Yukiko attempted. As the leg mercifully withdrew before the proprietor of Aiya saw it and was offended at such a rude display, she continued, "I also envy how trim you are, Ai-san. How do you stay in shape? Chie does a lot of sports training and martial arts."

"Mostly diet," she told them smugly as she pulled out a compact and preened slightly. Chie wondered idly how anyone could be so self-absorbed. "And a little time on my elliptical at home every evening. Gotta burn those calories. What about you?"

Caught off guard by the question being turned around on her, Yukiko smiled demurely as she went back to teasing Chie harder. Her throat constricted to cut off a very genuine moan. "Oh, nothing in particular. Portion control. Though my duties at Amagi Inn do tend to keep me very active."

"Really? I can't believe that — you're way too perfect for that to be the whole story. What is it, kale? Juice cleanses? Do you…"

For a little while, Chie lost track of the conversation. Her entire focus was on those fingers playing over her growing wetness. Luckily the diner was full of pungent, savoury aromas or she would really have been in trouble — no way she wasn't stinking up the place with the scent of her arousal by now. All she wanted was to drag Yukiko off to the bathroom for a glorious finish, but she wasn't sure she would be able to stand just now. Besides, it would be the only move even more conspicuous than what they were already doing.

"...definitely working," Ebihara was finally relenting when she refocused, trying to block out the urges to moan and roll her hips by distracting herself. "But yeah, loan me that when you get the chance."

"Of course." Yukiko only occasionally glanced at Chie, to make sure she wasn't distressed or angry. And since Chie was trying to look politely interested in the conversation, it never showed how intolerable this whole situation was for her, so she went right back to petting and chatting. "And as I said, I don't know what sort of perfume he prefers, but anything should be fine. But knowing Yu, I don't think he would care about the brand if you name-dropped."

Ai's brow furrowed slightly as she tapped the surface of the table. Meanwhile, Chie was doing the same with one of her legs, jiggling it up and down in an attempt to abate the feelings assaulting her. In fact, it made them worse… but even after realising that, she couldn't seem to stop. She needed to get off now.

"Well, he certainly does look at me like he likes what he sees. What the hell's his problem? What more do I have to do?"

"It's probably a courage problem," Yukiko told her — while pressing two fingertips harder against Chie's clit. Which was throbbing so hard it didn't even present a challenge for her to find through the panties. "He hasn't worked up enough to ask someone as pretty as you out yet. Give him time, or make your own interest more obvious, since you said you didn't want to ask him yourself."

Ebihara tapped her chin. "You know, even though you're just a townie, I think you have a point. I won't outright ask him, but I could flirt a little. I'm just used to the boys making all the moves on me."

"A-ah…"

"Hm? Something wrong, Satonaka?"

"N-nah," Chie tried to cover. In reality, she had been unable to suppress that moan when Yukiko's fingers inadvertently tensed upon being called 'just a townie'. Despite the reason, it had felt too good against her greedy flesh. "Still my… red tide. Mm, what would you do? To flirt."

Looking at her a little funny, Ebihara shrugged. "I don't know. That's not really my thing; I prefer to have them chasing me. But I guess I've thought about it before, just in theory."

"So, u-um, try out some lines. Maybe we can tell you if they're- nhh… if they're too cheesy."

"Fine. Guess there's no reason not to." While Chie's hips began to squirm back and forth, the orgasm so close now, Ai preened at her hair a little more before leaning her elbows on the table and resting her chin on her folded hands. "Hey there. What's a nice guy like you doing on a crummy team like this?"

"I don't think that's very kind," Yukiko put in — while circling her best friend's clit harder than ever. "Try not to put down the team, he might take offense."

"But they really are a crummy team. Well, except for Kou-chan…" Her expression flickered, and it almost looked a bit wounded for a moment — before she recomposed herself into the usual arrogance. "Okay, you're probably right. Let me try something else."

"Please," Chie begged. Though it was actually for release and not another flirtation demonstration.

"Wow. You just made yourself my guinea pig, Bowl Cut." Chie wanted to be mad…

But an instant later, Ai's hands were delicately taking up the one of hers that was resting on top of the table. Her eyes softened as she looked up into Chie's, slightly wetted lips parting as her throat worked to swallow, as if nervous.

"I know… I haven't been the manager for very long, but… I really like seeing you every day. And you're so strong, and athletic… not to mention easy on the eyes. I wouldn't mind spending a little more time with you, okay? One on one."

"Really?" Chie half-panted, just barely able to keep from making it completely obvious what was happening under the table. "One on one, h-huh? What for?"

Anyone would have been able to tell Ebihara was fighting down some variety of "Are you stupid?" response. But after the brief flicker of ire, she leaned further forward, showing a slight glimpse of her collarbone beneath her school uniform, the very top of her cleavage. Her eyes were sparkling, lips parted even more as she began to heave for breath. Chie responded in kind… because she couldn't stop herself from letting the desire show through anymore. Even if it wasn't actually desire for the person in front of her, at least it came across like she was playacting for the sake of aiding their classmate.

"To make all your wildest dreams come true. Listen…" One hand still holding Chie's, she let the other one raise up to graze well-manicured fingernails up and down along the inside of her forearm. Goosebumps raced over her skin. "I've been thinking about this for a long time, and…" She feigned being shy, biting her lip and looking away.

"And?" Chie prompted hastily, riding the edge as Yukiko sped up her efforts. A quick glance over showed she was curious to see what might happen next.

Looking back up, the normally snooty girl leaned so close their noses were almost touching, voice dipping down into a husky whisper. "And I want… you to be my first. Will you claim my body?"

Well damn.

This orgasm was the hardest yet, and it bowled over Chie with such a force she had no way to prepare. A moan started to burble up past her lips, and had just barely begun when she belatedly realised that even though her entire mind was consumed with the taboo of this activity, with the sheer potency of the climax itself, she still had to keep the whole diner from figuring out what they were doing. What a nightmare, what an impossible situation!

Which she made worse, because in her Cro-magnon brain's efforts to stop the noise, it sought the easiest avenue possible when there was a set of pouty lips a mere inch away from her own.

"MM!" Ai grunted when she felt the kiss begin, the hand holding Chie's clamping down hard so that her nails bit into the skin of her palm. But when Chie grasped it back just as hard, she sort of… melted. Just for a few seconds, they were really kissing each other while Chie's climax made her hips roll against the punishing fingers, milking that moment for all it was worth.

Then Ai drew back and smacked her across the face.

"OW!" she yelped, completely shocked. "Wh-what-"

"EXCUSE YOU!" she gasped out, cheeks flaming red now despite her furious expression. "This was supposed to be acting, not with… with actual… th-that was too far!"

Though Yukiko looked quite thoughtful, she still put in, "Actors kiss all the time. Even in school plays. I think she was just really into the scene."

"Y-yeah," said a dazed Chie, brain too foggy from orgasm afterglow and the stunning blow to her face to say much more.

"W-well, I… I didn't say we could do that, so it was very rude to do it without asking!" The prissy girl pushed her hand into her mouth. "GOD, I kissed a girl and I didn't even hate it — I'm a yuri. At least she didn't steal my first kiss! Then I would be really mad, you don't even know!"

"She didn't?" Yukiko asked curiously, even while smirking playfully at the flustered Chie. Apparently, they would be talking about this at great length later. "Who was your first kiss?"

"Some boy I- oh, nevermind! Screw you two perverts, you're crazy!" She hastily got up from the table, then stumbled a little before sitting back down. "UGH! And if I didn't take off my shoe earlier, I could have stormed out of here and looked much cooler! DAMN it, I'm having the worst day!"

                                                         To Be Continued…

#We'll Face Ourselves #persona 4 fanfiction #forkanna writes #p4 fanfic #chiko #jess the writer #Happy Birthday

[whumpishstuff]

*Ji and Lance part 3*

part 2

   “Ok, Lance. You’re going to pick today, ok?” Ji tries to make his voice sound authoritative without sounding angry. Lance looks up at him with wide eyes from his signature spot next to the couch.

  “Yes, Master.” Lance’s body is tense with anxiety, but Ji has found that he won’t disobey a direct order. He sits on the couch, close to Lance, and presses the remote in his hand.

  Lance scrolls Netflix, looking up questioningly at Ji as he pauses on each movie. Ji just motions to the TV, wanting Lance to pick something that he’s interested in, like they had discussed. Lance turns and stares at the screen with intense concentration. He stops on a nature documentary, and peers up nervously at Ji.

  “You wanna watch that one?” Ji tries to keep his expression neutral.

  “Do you want to, Master?” Lance seems uneasy, like he’s anticipating punishment.

  “That’s not what I asked.” Ji knows that it won’t mean anything if he ends up choosing for him.

  “...I am... interested in this film. I would like to watch it, if that’s alright with you, Master.” Lance braces himself for the discipline that comes with requesting something for himself.

  “Nice choice, hon.” Ji plucks the remote from his hand and plays the documentary. They watch the film in silence. Ji tries to make conversation a few times, but he knows he’s already asked a lot of Lance, so gives up.

-

  Ji checks his phone, having silenced it so he could focus on spending time with Lance. Six missed calls from Anwir. Ten texts, one that declares that he’s coming over.

  “Uh, Lance?”

  “Yes, Master?”

  “Anwir’s coming over... for some reason.”

  “Yes, Master.”

  Anwir’s the only person he’s introduced Lance to, and Anwir took a liking to him immediately. He’s a lot more comfortable with the “pet” role Lance fills than Ji is. He has no problem with Lance kneeling at his feet, he even pets his head. Ji suspects that Anwir is involved in the BDSM scene or something of the sort, but he doesn’t ask because he doesn’t want to prompt Anwir into one of his signature inappropriate rambles.

  “Duuuude! Let me in! It’s important!” Anwir’s voice is loud even through the door. Ji rushes to let him in, not wanting another complaint from his neighbors.

  Anwir yanks the door open as soon as Ji turns the lock. “THEY’RE COMING FOR LANCE DUDE!” He shoves Ji out of the doorway and slams the door shut.

  “Wha-? Are you on coke again?! We talked about this!” Ji rubs his face, frustrated by the thought of having to force Anwir into rehab again.

  “NO DUDE! This is for realsies! Some big scary guys in suits showed up at my apartment!” He grabs Ji’s shoulders, shaking him roughly. “They asked me about Lance! I said I didn’t know what they’re talking about but THEY HAD PICTURES OF ME GOING INTO YOUR HOUSE! THE JIG IS UP DUDE!”

  “Ok. Ok. Just calm down. Why would ‘scary guys in suits’ care about where Lance is staying?” He pries Anwir’s hands off his shoulders.

  “Because he’s a pet, dude. And his Master must want him back!” Ji just squints at him, trying to decide if he’s high or not. Anwir sighs dramatically, rubbing his eyes. “Look, dude, I haven’t told you about this stuff ‘cuz I didn’t want to worry you. This ‘Master and Pet’ thing has a community.”

  “Huh?” Ji interrupts him. “Are we talking like a BDSM club kinda thing?”

  Anwir fixes him with an annoyed look. “No. I’m talking about an underground community of sickos who kidnap people like Lance. Abuse them. Keep them as pets, like dogs. They are rich and they are powerful, so they get away with it. And they want Lance back.”

  Ji gapes at him, unable to process the entirety of what he’s being told.

  “They will do whatever it takes to get their pet back. You are in danger. You both are.” Anwir has never seemed this serious before, and it freaks Ji out.

  “WHY DIDN’T YOU TELL ME ABOUT THIS BEFORE?!”

  “Because it seemed like Lance had lost them! And you don’t have any ties to them, so I didn’t think they’d find you.” Anwir looks at his shoes, guilt showing on his face.

  “Why do you even know about all this? Are you... involved?” Ji’s heart is pounding, and he’s scared. Scared that the only person that he’s trusted Lance with has had bad intentions the whole time.

  “No dude! I mean, a friend of a friend is, and I ended up doing some odd jobs for the group, but that was before I found out what it is they do.” His face twists up like he might cry. “When you introduced me to Lance, I figured out that he used to be a pet. But I couldn’t bring myself to tell you, and possibly ruin your and Lance's relationship.”

  Ji’s expression softens. “I get it man. I’m not mad. But what am I gonna do?!”

  “Well, I have an idea. It seems like they aren’t actually sure that you have Lance. If they did, they’d probably just take him by force. If we hide him for a bit, and you let them check things out here, they’ll think that they had the wrong guy. They’ll go continue their goose chase somewhere else, and you guy’s’ll be safe.” Anwir wrings his hands as he speaks, his tense body emanating anxiety.

  “Where would I hide him though?” Ji takes Anwir’s hands in his, massaging the tension out of them.

  “I can take him. My parents have a cabin up in the woods that no one ever uses. If I’m careful there won’t be any trail, Lance and I can stay up there until things cool down.” He gives Ji a small smile, clutching his shaking hands tightly.

  “You’d do that for us?” Ji’s eyes fill with tears.

  “Of course man. Let me pay you back for all the times you’ve patched me up after my stupid bar fights and shit.” Ji pulls him into a hug, tears streaming down his cheeks.

  Ji pulls back, both stress and relief contorting his features. “Should I pack him a bag right away?”

  “Yeah, we better get this thing rolling. The sooner the better. I’m gonna go make sure Lance is ok. I’m sure he’s been listening.” 

  “Oh shit. Yeah. You do that, I’ll go pack his bag.”

-

  “Hey, pal. Did you hear us talking?” Anwir squats down next to where Lance is kneeling.

  “Yes, Sir.” Lance doesn't make eye contact with him, as per usual.

  “Alright, so you understand why you need to come stay with me for a while?” He stands and sits on the couch. His eyes never leaving Lance’s face.

  “Yes, Sir.” Lance’s expression doesn’t change, although Anwir thinks that he can sense sadness radiating from him.

  “This isn’t you fault, ok?” He gently lays his hand on Lance’s slight shoulder.

  “...Yes, Sir.” His eyes well up with tears despite his efforts to be well behaved for his Master’s friend.

  “Awww, don’t cry! Ji and I are gonna get this all worked out. Then you two can be all lovey-dovey again in peace.” Anwir chuckles at his teasing, patting Lance’s shoulder.

  Ji strides into the room, duffel bag in hand. He kneels down, facing Lance. “I’m really sorry about this, hon. But it’ll just be for a little while, ok?” His tears don’t go unnoticed.

  Lance’s face pinches with guilt. “I-I’m so sorry, Master.” He sniffles, tears wetting his cheeks.

  Ji pulls Lance into a hug, glaring up at Anwir when he whistles at the display of affection.

  “Well... The sooner we’re out of here, the safer we’ll be.” Anwir pats both Ji and Lance on the head and grabs Lance’s bag. Ji presses a loving kiss to Lance’s forehead, and helps him up. The three make their way to Anwir’s car, Ji holding Lance’s hand the entire way.

  “Alright, bro. Get rid of any trace of Lance. When they show up, and believe me they will, just let them poke around. They won’t find any evidence of a pet, so they won’t have any reason to fuck with you. I’ll bring him back like a week after they leave, just to be safe. Got it?” Anwir jerks him into a hug before he can even answer.

  “Yeah man. I got it. Keep me updated, ok?” Ji turns and pats Lance’s head, giving him a sad smile.

  “No worries man. I’ll text you when we get there. And I’ll take good care of him.” Anwir fixes him with a smile as he leads Lance to the passenger side.

  Ji waves to them as the car pulls away. Lance timidly waves back. Anwir sticks his entire arm through his window, swinging it like a madman. Ji can’t help but laugh, despite the solemn situation.

  Once the car is out of sight, he makes his way inside, ready to scrub away every hint of Lance’s existence.

#whump #well there isn't really whump in this one #just plot #drabble #my writing #ji #lance #anwir

[redknight3996]

The Demon Lord’s Generals 2

Chapter 2 – The Lion’s Bane

Leok earned her name when she was twelve, still a whelp by any standard out there. ‘Sides goblins, maybe? Or summa those other smaller folks out there, though most folk were small to her.

The Ferrus Lion she fought way back then was a very big bastard though, and a hell of a fun match to fight. Its steel fur and solid hide made it practically impossible to wound with any bladed or pointed weapons, and even blunt stuff tended to bounce right off. 

So her beating it down, choking it out, and snapping its neck, all with her own two hands, earned her some damn high praise when she dragged the mountain beast’s carcass back, far ahead of the rest of her hunting party. But it also earned her a cuff upside the head from the chief, so goods and bads.

“Ya don’t run off from yer party, brat,” Chief chided later on in her tent as she helped Leok carve her totem for the lion, letting the young, gold-blonde orc sit in her lap as she guided the whit-knife in her hand along a block of yellow-wood, “Even if yer goin’ up a beast alone, yer gonna want yer group ta know where ya are. One good knick and ya could be bleedin’ out fast.”

“Not my fault they're slow. If it were up ta them, we'd still be up there huntin’ the thin’...” 

“Cause huntin’ requires patience. If ya keep chargin’ in head first, the beast yer huntin’ will just run off.” 

“This one didn’t. I got him quick ‘nough.”

“Yeah, ya got lucky.”

That got Leok to scowl back at her chief, before pausing as Chief gripped her wrist a little tighter with one of her dark hands, keeping her from making a miscut. “...” She looked back at the on-going carving, still frowning. “Weren’t luck…”

“Hey now, no shame in luck. Luck’s important. Let’s ya know the gods like ya.” Chief chuckled, letting Leok carve on her own for a sec as she reached up and pet her short, messy hair down. “Plenty’a stuff facter inta a hunt. Strength’s important, sure, and ya got plenty’a that. Sensin’s also important. Gotta see where it goes, gotta listen close, gotta track its scents, so on.”

“And I‘m good at trackin’!”

“Yer good, but ya ain’t great. Patience is ‘portant, little lion. Sometimes ya get lucky and run inta a big, hungry beastie lookin’ fer a fight, but plenty’a times, y’ll be runnin’ fer weeks tryin’ ta track just one big, angry beastie who’s far too clever fer ya.”

“Hmph...I’m smarter than a beast…”

“Not all beasts, and it’s not always ‘bout bein’ smart. Ya can be the smartest, cleverest hunter out there, but if yer goin’ inta a new place, no idea what’s lyin’ out there, y’ll wind up gettin’ killed by somethin’ that just knows the area better’n ya.”

“...Like Tuzik Spike-Heart?”

“Oh, so ya are listenin’ ta Gran’s stories.”

Leok shrugged then, trying to focus on getting the small totem rounded right. Least that’s what she’d say if asked. Truth was, she was a proud girl, and embarrassment was painful. “...Summa ‘em. The smart ones.”

“Heh. And which ones’re those?”

“Summa ‘em. Ya probably know more’n me since yer listenin’ ta everyone all the time.”

“Probably do. Y’d learn just as many if ya listened too.”

Leok snorted. “Listenin’s fer chiefs. I’m gonna be a warrior, and make my own tribe’a warriors! Maybe unite all’a the orcs out there, make somethin’...big!”

“Ha! Really now? Ya got a conqueror’s heart in ya now?”

“I might!” Chief’s heavy hand dropped right on her head and started mussing her hair, earning a yelp from Leok. “H-Hey! Yer ruinin’ my concentration!”

“Gra ha ha! Bet I am! Can’t help it though, not when yer bein’ this cute.”

“I ain’t cute!”

“Yer a kid, kids are cute, deal with it. Also, speakin’ as an old warrior here, I’m gonna say that  ya don’t have a conqueror’s heart. Ya got a warrior’s.”

“Yeah yeah…” Leok would’ve just grumbled and went on as usual, but...some little curiosity made her ask, “What’s the difference?”

“Heh. Big difference.” Chief let out a sigh. “...Real big difference. Startin’...ya remember Harvest-Maker and Harvest-Taker?”

“Eh? That kid story?”

“Yup, that’s the one. What d’ya ‘member ‘bout it?”

Leok shrugged, trying to think as she worked. “Uh...Once there were two orc brothers. Both were strong and tough, but one decided ta guard his tribe and the other turned bandit. The first brother, was the younger one I think?” At Chief’s nod, she continued, “He talked ta a lotta folk and orc as he walked with his tribe and made his people happy ‘cause he brought in food and coin by talkin’ good. Second brother, who was older, was meaner though, and got a buncha other meaner orcs t’gether ta rob folk. He was good at it and got a lot, but got the folks mad at ‘im and they dragged ‘im offa his horse and hacked ‘im ta pieces. His brother though, he lived long and happy ‘cause he made ‘is tribe happy, right?”

Chief grinned. “Close. See, Maker was a warrior. He worked fer his own good, ‘long with his tribe’s good. By bein’ smart and workin’ with folk, tradin’ with ‘em, huntin’ the beasts that gave ‘em trouble, he didn’t get rich, but he got enough. Enough ta live, not just survive. And he was a whole lot happier, cause he had people that loved him and wanted ta see him happy.

“Taker though, he wanted ta take. He didn’t respect folk and he didn’t respect orc; he only cared ‘bout gainin’. Not keepin’, but gainin’. More and more, always more. What he got, he wasted on drink and feasts. He was a glutton, and his new tribe weren’t even a real tribe, ‘cause none’a ‘em really cared ‘bout each other, not deep down. They could pal, sure, but they only wanted ta have their wants. Was why none’a ‘em helped when the folk came after Taker. Real tribe, they keep ya safe and ya keep ‘em safe in return.”

“...” Leok considered that, frowning as she carved the mouth. “So...I shouldn’t make a tribe’a warriors?”

“Ya could. But thin’ is, fighters gotta have reasons ta fight. What would they do if they ain’t got someone ta fight fer?”

“...Huh…”

“‘Sides, wouldn’t ya rather have plenty’a people around ta help out? Gotta have coinkeepers ta keep track’a accounts, and yer little pal there, Bekah, she don’t wanna be a warrior, does she?”

“Nah, she likes cookin’...Sero’s good at axe-throwin’ though. He could help.”

“Ya really wanna trust yer tribe ta just Sero?”

“Nah, he’s kinda shit.”

Chief let out a bark of laughter and ruffled her hair again, grinning wide, her larger tusks almost gleaming in tent’s lantern-light. “Ya see what I mean? Though don’t cuss.”

“Hm...Hyp’crite.”

“Hypocrite, ya little brat. Use yer words right.”

“Yes chief…” So young Leok grumbled, got back to work, and carved her totem. It was simple enough, and worked fine for a belt buckle, but the main, most important thing was that she’d earned her name and it was a big one. Not Leok Lion-Break or Leok Lion-Hunt. 

No, she was a Bane of the Beast-Bane tribe. She was Leok Lion-Bane. And every orc out there was gonna know her name.

–2 Years Later–

Chief was a weird orc. Plenty nice to Leok and all the rest of the tribe, but she stood out, partially cause of her attitude and partially cause of her looks.

Her looks were the obvious part, on account of the Chief being a High Orc. 

High Orcs were a rare type of orc, like a weird thing. Not a mutation, like Gura Three-Tusk or Lurtol Six-Finger, but like a special type. One way she heard it described was that High Orcs were like Lycans were to humans, but then there were Kapros out there that weren’t High Orcs, so…

To be more clear, appearance-wise, the Chief was taller than the average orc–at around 6’8” instead of the 6’4” average–and had dark brown skin instead of green or gray, or even the pink of Sun Land orcs. Apparently it was a sign of her type being closer to the gods or something, like those old Sun Land Imperials and all. 

She also had longer tusks–which, orc-ishly speaking, was a lot more of a sign of status than any skin stuff–and a tail. A longish one, with a tuft of hair at the end that she liked poking at people with to mess with them, or just to play with kids, who liked grabbing at it. Not that Leok ever did that kinda thing when she was tiny.

Oh, and the Chief also had really shaggy white hair–like a ‘platinum blonde’ instead of Leok’s golden blonde–and her eyes were like a kinda...green-amber. Lots a little flecks and looked pretty weird at times, but the Chief was weird in general, so that was that.

And she could also turn into a boar. Like, a big boar, like a kaprothrope. Was interesting and sometimes she’d let people ride on her back if they were having trouble. Chief didn’t have a lot of pride, but she did have confidence. 

Least that’s how she explained it to Leok. Apparently there was a difference?

Maybe it was a “conqueror/warrior” thing, where the difference seemed small but meant a lot. She didn’t understand, not at that point, but Leok did give an effort to watch how her chief talked with people, whether they were folk or orc.

She tended to be real polite with folk, speaking nice and polite and offering help and trade, and be a lot more casual and boisterous with other orc, though she was plenty friendly either way. There was more than a couple times she’d sell hides and meat for less than it was worth when she saw a tribe or town was going through rough times, apparently because “gainin’ goodwill’s worth more than havin’ a ton we’ll never use”.

Chief didn’t care about being rich, but it was still kinda a surprise to Leok to see how much worse off a lot of folk and orc were. Gobs especially seemed to have it rougher than most–something about hobs coming from up north looking for territory–and their tribe wound up playing escort to a few of them more than a few times. 

It was interesting, talking with folk that’d lost their lands. Some orcs settled in places, but most tribes were nomads, heading to wherever game and grazing were good on the plains, so the concept of outright losing land felt kinda weird to think. It did make some sense though. Gobs and humans weren’t as tough as orcs, so they settled in places and made forts and alliances to keep out the dangers. 

Didn’t feel fair though. If the dangers were too much, if folk like hobs or even orc bandit bands came after them, then they didn’t have anywhere to go at all. 

Didn’t feel fair at all, and she said as much to the chief as the two rode alongside each other, following the trails to one the eastward towns.

“Yeah, it ain’t,” Chief agreed, “But it is how it is.”

“Yeah, but...why? Ya said folk were tough, right? So why don’t they all join up? Like a big army?”

Chief snorted. “I thought ya said ya were too big fer stories?”

Leok shook her head, her hair longer, but braided nicely. “Nah. The gob grans have interestin’ ones. Lotta stuff ‘bout old builders’n leaders.”

“I noticed. Why ya think I asked that?” She chuckled, leaning back in her saddle and patting Strider’s white mane, earning a whinny from the huge black horse. “Yer listenin’ ta a lotta tales’a leaders then?”

“Yeah, lotta ‘em. Big ones, unitin’ towns and tribes and stuff. Like...Jee-ahnma...Ghian…” She frowned, trying to figure out the unfamiliar syllables.

“Don’t hurt yerself.”

“Ah fuck off.”

“And no cussin’!” Chief pointed at her, then sighed again, still grinning. “They ever mention how most’a those leaders got their idiot selves killed?”

“...Uh...Not really? They aren’t around, so I thought they were gone, but...what d’ya mean?”

Chief shrugged. “Remind me ta talk ta ya about ‘Demon Lords’ later.”

Leok blinked. “What, like the ones in Gran’s old stories?”

“Nah, different. Not ‘Demon Princes’, not ‘Demon Kings’. Somethin’ both better and worse, in a whole lotta ways.”

“...” Leok glanced at her chief again. She was staring straight ahead, and her eyes seemed...more tired than usual. And for a moment, Leok wondered if Chief always had such deep bags under her eyes. “...Why can’t ya tell me now?”

“Easy. Cause town’s comin’ up ahead, and looks like we’re not the only tribe stayin’.” Chief suddenly grinned, then urged Strider into a gallop, leaving Leok and Apple-Eater in the literal dust, blinking after her in confusion.

And sure enough, right outside the town of Dasloh were a number of tents set up, though they were all a bright red instead of the shades of yellow most Hayland orcs tended to use to blend into the plants around. Leok didn’t know of any red forests out in the Dark Lands, so this new tribe would probably stand out just about anywhere.

“Ho the camp!” Chief called out from a decent distance, grinning easily as a couple of the camp’s orcs glanced over, letting Leok get a good look at the noticeably gray orcs–which probably meant they were coming from further east. They were all wearing feathered cloaks and coats over their leathers too, mostly in reds and browns.

“Is there somethin’ you need, traveler?” One of the orcs asked as he raised a hand, returning her greeting. He and the other orcs around had a whole lot of red-orange tattoos across their arms and faces, marking and making it obvious which Ancient they followed. 

“Just ta inform ya my tribe is going to be stoppin’ here too. Don't worry, I'll lead them ta the other side of the town.” 

“Is that so?” The orc grinned, standing straighter. “Well, if you and yours are in need of some entertainment, we’re more than willin’ to oblige. For a price, of course.” 

“That so?” Chief echoed with a smirk of her own, “Never seen a troupe’a all orcs before.” 

“In that case, you can consider this a rare opportunity well worth the price of admission!” he replied, gesturing with his hands as he spoke. Real theatric guy.

“Ha! Guess I'll have ta take ya up on that. Try not ta leave before we're done settin’ up.” 

“We'll save you a spot in tonight's show,” the orc said as he bowed to her with a flourish. 

Staying aways back as Chief returned to her, Leok looked over at the camp itself. Seemed most orcs had gone back to what they were doing once they realized it was just another tribe. Went a lot better than how it usually did there, since most tribes didn't like sharing spots, especially when it came to towns. One orc tribe being nearby was a good trading partner to most folk, but there were plenty who got suspicious, and those paranoid voices got a lot louder the more orcs were around.

Though, before she pulled the reins on Apple-Eater to head on back with Chief, she paused as she noticed an odd orc in particular was staring at her. A small thing, probably younger than her, but wearing full black instead of the browns and reds everyone else had. 

“...” After a second, she raised a hand and waved over to the kid, who blinked, staring right back at her. Another few seconds passed, and the kid–looked like a girl, from what Leok could tell–raised a hand in return and waved hesitantly. So of course Leok smiled back at the shy kid, waving again before riding off to catch up with her chief.

And much later on, once they’d got all their tents set up and carriages set, Leok decided to seek out that kid again. She didn’t know what was up with the girl and her black feather cloak, but if she was standing out for some reason, there had to be something interesting going on with her.

The rest of the Fire-Art tribe was pretty amazing already, with all the fancy tricks they were showing off at their carnival. Lotta fire magic going off–made sense, considering the name–in big shows, like plays featuring dragons and monsters made of flames or glass sculptures made easy for folks to buy. Add in the lively music and cheerful feeling the whole place gave off, and it was hard for Leok to keep from smiling as she walked around.

Still, she had a self-appointed mission she was on–though the sight of a big lion made out of flames chasing an equally fiery gazelle through the sky was damn impressive–so she definitely couldn’t afford any distractions. Though barbecued meat at the food stands smelled fantastic…

Eventually, she did manage to catch sight of the black-cloaked kid again while she was munching on a skewer, and for the briefest moment, she felt kinda stupid for thinking the kid might be hanging around somewhere special instead of just sitting with her knees up to her chest and watching one of the fire shows with the other kids, but that moment passed quick and Leok headed right on over, taking a seat beside the kid.

“Hey there!” she greeted, grinning. Then she paused and tried to get some of the beef out from between her teeth with her tongue.

“Heh...hi yerself.”

“Nn...I get it?”

“Most’a it.”

“Nice!” Leok grinned again, moving her skewer to her left hand then leaning over with her right to shake the kid’s. “Name’s Leok Lion-Bane!”

The kid blinked. “Y’have a surname?” Then once that sunk in, she finally shook Leok’s hand, her face turning a little red. “Sorry. Uh, my name’s Crow.”

“I sure do! And nice ta meetcha Crow. Were ya named that fer yer coat or did that come later?”

“Came later. Gramma Col said I was all small and dark when I was born, like a crow.”

Leok nodded, continuing to grin. “Makes sense ta me. My tribe’s Gran named me Leok cause that’s like a lion’s name, and I got all this gold hair like one.”

“Huh...Lions’re named Leok?”

“Nah, they’re named Leo. No ‘K’, cause they’re not orcs.”

“Oohh…”

Leok giggled at the smaller orc’s nod of understanding, then leaned back, watching the show for a minute or so. “So how old are ya?”

“Eleven.”

“Yeah, that makes sense too. I’m fourteen!”

“Makes sense ta me,” Crow echoed, nodding again and earning another giggle from Leok, who really couldn’t help it. The smaller orc was just too serious sounding, it was cute. “Why’d ya look fer me?”

“Cause you were lookin’ at me. Made me curious.” Leok glanced at her. “So why were ya doin’ that?”

“...I got a feelin’ when I saw ya.” 

“A good feelin’?”

Crow shrugged. “...Somethin’ like one? Just saw ya and thought…’she’s important’. Jus’ that thought...Might’a saw somethin’ too.”

Leok was trying to seem casual, still leaned back, but her attention was fully on Crow. “And what’d ya see? Other than me, a’course.”

“Nah, was still ya, but y’were...bigger. Adult, I think. And ya had this armor on, all gold and...big, fancy. And I was followin’ ya, along with a lotta other orcs...Not just orc, also other folks.”

“...Like a lord?”

Crow tilted her head, obviously thinking, and apparently not noticing...whatever was in Leok’s tone there. She herself didn’t really know what it was. Eagerness? Fear? Something. “Maybe? Ya were a leader though, that I’m sure.”

“...Heh. Huh.” 

“Or could be nothin’, sorry.” Crow seemed to shrink in on herself, maybe mistaking Leok’s thoughtful tone for skepticism. “I’m still just learnin’ from Gram in the fortune stuff, I haven’t-”

Leok clapped a hand to her back, earning an abrupt squeak from the younger orc. Once Crow’s attention was on her again though, Leok grinned wide. “Thanks fer tellin’ me that. Ya just gave me a lot ta think about.”

“...Y-Yer welcome.”

Then Leok studied Crow for a moment, a slow smile creeping up her face. “Hey. When yer older, I’m gonna be even bigger and better than I am now. So when I’m at that point, and I find ya again, do ya wanna become my shaman?”

“...” And with wide eyes, Crow slowly nodded. “Y-Yeah. Yeah, definitely!”

“Good! Then work hard ta be the best ya can, because when I come back, I’m gonna be more than worthy’a bein’ yer boss.”

–Four Years Later–

Even at eighteen, Crow’s words from that one evening burned in the back of Leok’s mind. They stuck in her head, sounding out like echoes in a valley. Sometimes louder, sometimes quiet, but always there.

It’s what drove her to improve. If she was gonna be any kind of leader, she’d have to be stronger and smarter. The type who would never lose in any fight, physical or magical, and smart enough to know how to lead. 

Those words–that promise that she’d be great–was why she was sitting on a lake island, completely naked with her legs crossed on the cold grass. Gran sat opposite her, her own darker, scarred body just as bare, letting Leok see the deep blue tattoos that crossed her old, weathered skin. At two hundred and sixteen, she was the oldest orc Leok knew, but she still looked damn strong, her green skin wrinkled and leathery but her muscles as solid as ever, same as her tusks. Though a few of her teeth had been replaced with iron ones over the years. 

Sure, she looked all saggy in places and her white hair had thinned to the point that the half-blind elder just chopped it short, but there was no mistaking the power going through her. A different kind of power than the chief though. More...wise, instead of strong.

The tribe had stopped in a nice spot on the plains, nearby Tarkus Lake, some kinda sacred place. She didn’t really know why it was sacred, but when she went to Gran, telling her she was ready to earn her colors, Gran went right to the chief and told her to divert their course thataway. And the chief didn’t argue at all, so it was definitely an important thing.

“...Well I’ll be damned,” Gran finally spoke, her thin lips cracking in a grin as her eyes opened up again, one a deep green, the other a milky white,  “Ya really are ready.”

“What, ya doubted me?” Leok almost grinned back, but this was a sacred thing. She had to take it seriously. But one thought did nag at her. “Why’d ya have Chief head here if ya weren’t sure?”

“The mystic thoughts of an elder can only be understood by reachin’ that age yerself,” she replied, closing her eyes and nodding serenely as though that answered things. It didn't mean much to Leok, but since the wisest of her tribe had said it, it probably meant a lot. 

“Right, so since I'm ready, come on! Let's go ta the next step!” 

Gran shrugged. “Alright, if ya want.”

“Come on, I–Wait, really?” Leok blinked. “Yer not gonna say somethin’ about how ‘patience is good’ or somethin’?”

“Course not. If yer ready, yer ready.” Gran smiled, a few of her iron teeth glimmering in the noon-day sunlight. “Takin’ a step like this means becomin’ an adult, Leok Lion-Bane. It ain’t somethin’ ya get inta if ya really aren’t ready fer it, and everythin’ about yer soul says yer ready. Sure, Rishak would probably prefer if I waited two years so ya get there the same as everyone else, but that’s cause she worries easy.”

“...Ya were talking about the chief there, right? She worries easy?”

“Course she does. Chiefs worry. They need ta. It’s part’a their responsibilities, and I’ve told ya plenty’a stories’a those chiefs that were so confident in themselves, they didn’t even think’a worryin’ when they really shoulda.”

“Yeah, ya have...So...What comes next?”

Gran cracked another grin. “First, yer gonna needa center yerself. Ya remember how ta meditate?”

“Ah, right.” Leok nodded, then took a breath and clenched her hands into fists, pressing them together in front of her stomach, at her core. She took another breath–in and out, slow as could be; five in, six out–and let herself fall into that rhythm.

“Good good, yer doin’ good. Keep up that breath. Now, I want ya ta think back ta my lessons. Not the stories, but the theology. Who are the gods?”

“...” Leok wasn’t sure if she was supposed to answer at that moment, but she gave it a try. “The Ouza?”

Gran chuckled. “Yeah, that’s one answer. But we’re lookin’ fer a more complete one. And not fer the lower ones. Fer the Ancients. Who are they?”

Their creators, the ones who formed all demons, all dragons, all leviathans, all– “They’re the mothers of us all.”

“Right. Now specifics. What are their Names?”

Leok took a deep breath there. She needed it to help focus, to remember lessons she knew by heart, but kept in the back of her mind in favor of more immediately important things. “Rupture, the Ancient Eruption, Grandmother’a Molten Flames. Fathom, the Ancient Deep, Grandmother’a Kaz...Chasmic Seas? Uh, Tempest, the Ancient Sky, Grandmother’a Ragin’ Squalls. Stygian, the Ancient Thought, Grandmother’a...uh...Bound…” She grimaced, sure she knew the answer, then nodded firmly once she got it. “Boundless Minds.”

“Hmmmm...Yup, that’s all’a ‘em. Nice work rememberin’. Now, hold out yer hands.”

Leok did, and tried her best not to open her eyes when she felt heavy weight settle in her open palms.

“Y’know ya can open yer eyes now, right?”

She did not, but open them she did, which let her see the chunk of clear quartz in her hands. “...Huh. What’m I doin’ with this?”

“Yer holdin’ it.” Gran chuckled as Leok frowned at her. “That little jewel there’s gonna help ya figure some stuff out. First, I want ya ta look at it. What color would ya say it is?”

Leok blinked, then stared at the jagged crystal, small points jutting up from a smooth base like trees on a hill. “...Uh, like...white? It’s clear, mostly, but kinda towards the bottom…?”

“That’s a good ‘nough way’a sayin’ it. The white there isn’t exactly white though. It’s more like ‘absence’.”

“...’n that means?”

“Means nothin’s in there yet. Like yer marks.”

Leok blinked, then glanced at the white lines going up her right forearm, connecting straight from the circle around her elbow to the one around her wrist, kinda like a painted bracer. She’d gotten it done years ago as a way to practice magic, like the other kids her age. “Huh? What’s wrong with my marks?”

“Nothin’ wrong with ‘em, they’re just not complete yet. Ya haven’t found yer type yet, yer ‘affinity’. Ya wanna do more’n just make light balls and signals, right?”

“Well yeah, course. Just...How does this thin’ let me do that?”

“Easy. Ya already know how ta make light. Just push that same power out here, inta the crystal.”

And when Leok did exactly that, she saw what was easily the most beautiful sight she could’ve ever seen. 

In that one chunk of quartz–which had gone from its pale, clear, white, to a burning, vibrate mix of molten reds speckled with black–she saw the fire she’d felt burning in the back of her head for all those years.

And with that beautiful sight, her fire burst free, and lit her soul alight.

–Eight Years Later–

Leok panted, her breath coming heavier than it ever had before. Sweat ran down her face and mixed with the blood leaking from her busted nose and split lips, soaking down her bare chest like it would mix with the crimson flames tattooed into her bruised and scraped skin. 

“C’mon. Get up,” she commanded, like her arms didn’t feel like dead weights at her sides. She’d cut her hair short for this match. It was that damn important.

And about three hours into it, her Chief was lying in the sand, flat on her back for the first time Leok had ever seen. For the first time most of their tribe had ever seen, if she was right. 

And everyone was seeing it. All the adults of her tribe waited outside the ring they’d formed, distant enough for respect, close enough to see. To see their Chief, the greatest beast of their tribe, down in the sand of a lakeside beach.

“Come on. Get up.” Little more insistently that time. Even years later, she’d wonder why she was so insistent there. She knew this was a step she had to take. She knew she would have to beat her own chief to reach that point. But a part of her, on that sunny day, had insisted that the Chief never lost to anyone. Not even her.

It wasn’t like the Chief hadn’t fought her hard. For the first time, Chief had let her beast slip in a fight. She’d let that thick fur cover her, let her feet harden into hooves, let her tusks get longer and curved like blades, and Leok had still laid her flat. Not without injury, not without effort. 

But one of them was standing, and the other was on the ground, and in the eyes of the world and its history, that was the only thing that would ever matter.

“...hgh…ghh...ghh-hh…” Chief lifted her hand–slowly, painfully, like she was trying to lift the sky–and let it fall against her face, her shoulders shaking as she covered her face.

“...Don’t...Don’t cry ‘cause ya lost,” Leok said. She didn’t beg there. She couldn’t. She was the chief now.

“N’t...d-dun’t...f-f’ckin’ f-fladder yerzelf...b-brat.” Her voice was made of broken things. A broken nose, broken teeth, broken jaw, broken ribs and collarbones, but it all held together strong, and there wasn’t even a hint of a broken spirit in it. “Gh hh hh…’m zo f’ckin’...zo f’ckin’ prowd.”

And that was the breaking point for Leok. Tears fell from her eyes as she fell to her knees, a little laugh that sounded like a sob sounding out over the lake, before strong arms wrapped around her and helped her up, a wide grin on Gran’s face.

“Congratulations, Chief.”

That seemed to be the signal for everyone to immediately start crowding, shouting congratulations, cheering the ‘awesome match’, and helping Chief...helping Rishak up to her feet.

That night, they had a feast to fully swear her in, and Leok Lion-Bane–sitting at the honored spot among all her tribe, all laughing and cheering her name, with Rishak’s voice easily being the loudest–became the newest Chief of the Beast-Bane Tribe.

–Five Years Later–

“Yer leavin’?” 

“Yup. Soon enough, I will be,” Rishak replied, grinning at Leok in the lights of her tent. Of Leok’s tent. The Chief’s tent.

Still felt weird, sitting on the chief’s pillow. It was a simple thing, large and yellow, like the fields of Korikala. Felt comfy enough. Made her seem taller than she was. “...Why? I mean...I know ya weren’t born in the tribe, but…”

“Yer my family,” Rishak confirmed, even though Leok should’ve known it would be her answer, “And don’t get all insecure, yer better than that.”

“Sure, Gran.”

Rishak’s eye twitched. “...I swear ya told the kids ta start callin’ me that. Rulak ain’t even dead yet and yer already settin’ me up ta take her over.”

Leok snorted, ignoring the little pang at the idea of her Gran dying. She was getting older by the day and all… “I can’t help what the kids call ya. Besides, is it a bad thing?”

“Nah, it ain’t. It’s kinda cute.” Rishak shrugged. “Still. I’m thinkin’ yer set here. Y’ve got a good handle on the tribe, y’ve got a good feel fer the folk around, yer good at talkin’, and yer damn good at fightin’. Ain’t lost a fight yet, right?”

“Only ever lost ta ya, and ya know it.”

“And ya won against me.”

Leok nodded. “And I won against ya. And y’still stuck around afterward. So why now?”

“...Yer movin’ the tribe east, ain’tcha?”

She raised an eyebrow. “Yeah. I ain’t been keepin’ it a secret. Thin’s sound bad down south. Folk and orc say some crazy shit goin’ on in the swamps.”

“Sayin’ more’n that.” Rishak scratched at her neck, stretching it a little. “Hm...Ya know what they’re sayin’, yeah?”

Leok’s eyes narrowed. “That there’s a Demon Lord risin’ up.”

Rishak nodded. “Last one’a those...think it was back when ya weren’t even crawlin’ yet. Name was Orast. Kinda a prick.”

That was the moment it all fit together for Leok, truth hitting her like a rock to the head. “So why’re ya stayin’?” 

Rishak winced, let out a little sigh, and stared at her much more evenly and seriously. “Cause not everyone can just up an’ leave their homes. So someone has ta make sure they're safe.” 

“Then-Then we'll sta-” 

“No, ya won't. It's yer job as the chief to protect the tribe. So keep ‘em safe, and keep ‘em movin’.” 

“...Only if ya stay safe too.” 

“Ha! I lose one fight and ya think I'm just a pushover?” 

“...”

“...Look, Lee, I'll be alright. I'm the second strongest orc on all’a Estus, I won't go down that easy.” 

“Why d’ya need ta do this? Just tell me that.” 

“...” Rishak let out another sigh and scratched her head. “... I made a lotta mistakes in the past. Teamed up with the wrong folk ‘n treated my tribe like trash. Eventually, it all caught up ta me, but I was lucky enough ta make it out alive. ‘n once I met this tribe, I made it my mission ta keep them safe. And now that they have you, I'm gonna keep others safe.” 

“And what about you? Who’s gonna keep ya safe?”

Rishak snorted. “I am, a’course. Seriously, ya can’t be-”

“I could order ya ta stay here.”

“...”

Leok tried to keep her gaze steady on Rishak. “I’m yer chief. We both know I can beat ya in a fight. I could keep ya here.”

“...” Rishak sighed. “Ya could. Yeah.”

“...Rishak, as yer chief, I’m orderin’ ya not ta throw yer life away.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Lee-”

“I ain’t orderin’ ya ta stay.” Leok took a little breath. “...Ya can go out, ya can protect people. That’s fine. Just don’t die. No playin’ hero, no grand last stands, no old warrior sacrificin’ herself against a stronger fighter. Yer survivin’, ya got it?”

“...” Rishak visibly swallowed, her voice tight. “Y-Yeah Chief. I understand ya.”

“...And when yer out there, rescuin’ folk ‘n all...tell the ones that can go out that the Beast-Bane tribe’s acceptin’ any refugees. Orc or folk, long as they wanna travel with us. Even if it’s just ta the nearest safe town.”

“...Heh. Geh heh…Yer a good...A real good chief, Chief.” Rishak smiled wide. “I’m gonna meet up with ya again. Promise.”

Leok smiled back. “And I’ll be waitin’ fer ya. Promise.”

Despite their big, sappy goodbye there, it took some time for Rishak Folk-Bane to actually leave the tribe. A lotta people needed to be said goodbye to, after all, and Leok was pretty sure her old chief was putting off leaving, at least a little.

Still, the time came, as it had to, and Leok saw her mentor off with a tight hug and a promise that they’d see each other again.

And sure, it would be some time before they did, but it was, thankfully, a promise they both kept.

–2 Years Later–

So Irascagan got fucking dead after two years of being a jackass. Woo. 

Some lightlander brats offed him and his band of murdering monsters–good riddance to bad garbage–and with him gone, all the tension of the last two years just melted away.

Leok also met up with Crow again in those two years. Took a little while, lots of travel time, lots of transporting people through all the marshy, rainy lands of Inrapaba–which was a real pain in the ass, especially since it seemed like everybody out there was way into the idea of “taxes” and making sure her caravan “paid their dues”–and a few moments of punching out asshole bandits–or “gangsters”, since apparently they were more organized than the normal sort–but she eventually ran into Crow and the Fire-Art tribe outside a decently-sized city called Lordsgrave.

“Holy shit, y’look awesome,” was how Leok greeted the gal she hadn’t seen in 19 years. Though it was a plenty appropriate greeting, considering how awesome Crow looked.

“Yer lookin’ good yerself,” Crow greeted in turn, her black-painted lips quirked up in obvious amusement and matching the pitch-black tattoos curving all around her taller, broader and much more muscular body. Though she was still at least two inches shorter than Leok, much to her own amusement. “Beast-Bane Chief now, huh, Lion-Bane?”

“Yup. Been it fer a good seven years now, Crow…?”

Crow’s grin took on a smugger look. “Shaman Crow Black-Art. At yer service, Chief.” And then she bowed low, her feathered, hooded cloak almost making her look like the bird she was named for. “If you’ll have me, of course.”

“Ha! D’ya even need ta ask? Welcome ta the tribe!”

And that was that. No dramatics, no big event, just a simple transfer of an awesome shaman from one tribe to another. Sure, there were more big goodbyes and such, but that was mostly the Fire-Arts just saying they’d miss Crow and giving hugs and all, and Leok did offer to join up their tribes, but their chief, Rola Red-Art, declined, saying that he and his people preferred performing and all.

Leok didn’t consider that an issue, so more fond goodbyes were said and the Beast-Bane tribe moved on. And after that, things fell into a pretty peaceful routine, for an orc tribe.

Plenty of things happened, sure. Lots of traveling tended to bring lots of adventures, like hunting down deadly beasts that were bothering towns, having some sporting competitions with other tribes, and punching out some wereshark prick and his weird gang of other therians that were calling themselves the “Menagerie” for some reason, like they were some dumbass zoo, like in the bigger cities. 

Speaking of, the Beast-Banes had gotten a decent reputation in a lotta cities and towns, both in Korikala and Inrapa, and that meant plenty of travel, trade, and good opportunities for growing the tribe and making sure everyone was taken care of, to the point that they’d turned into one of the biggest tribes out there. 

And really, at that point, then and there, Leok thought she was pretty damn satisfied. Like she’d gotten almost everything settled, and now her life would just be one of peaceful growth, no need to worry about the assholes out there that could never beat her in a fight. Hell, she even fought an outworlder martial artist, using moves she’d never seen before, and still beat him. Granted, it was a slow-going growth, one that took a lotta time and a lotta work. 

Maybe that’s why it took so long for Rishak to find them again.

–Around 5 Years After That–

“What the fuck happened ta yer leg?” was how Leok decided to greet her former chief and mentor who she hadn’t seen in seven years. Though it wasn’t exactly like she decided to say that. More like it just slipped out the instant she saw the brass prosthetic replacing her mentor’s right leg all the way up to the thigh.

“Is that how ya greet yer elder ya disrespectful little shit!?” was how her loving ex-chief and mentor decided to greet her back. 

“It is when yer damn leg’s gone! And I’m only two inches shorter than ya!”

“Yer still shorter, and yeah, it is. It’s what happens when yer tryin’ ta get folk outta town and ya get pinned by rubble.”

Leok blinked. “...Oh. Ah, sorry. It just…” She paused. “...Is that what really happened?”

“...” Rishak glanced to the side, staring at the lounge’s wall as she scratched at her cheek. “...Well, uh...ya see, sometimes, someone loses a leg when they get pinned and it just gets wrecked beyond fixin’. Other times...they might pick a fight with a beastfolk general and wind up gettin’ their leg torn off by a direwolf when they weren’t lookin’...”

Leok just sighed, then hugged Rishak tight. “I missed ya.”

“...Missed ya too.”

“...Hn.” Leok paused, remembering that there was someone else still in the room. Two someones.

She glanced over at the young, dark-skinned human woman in all white who’d made that small, conflicted noise, who just looked away and took a sip of her tea while her way paler and blatantly vampiric friend chuckled at his own chair. “Oh no, don’t mind us, please! Enjoy your reunion!”

“...Right.” Leok let go of Rishak and took a seat at one of the remaining chairs around the tea table, which was in the lounge–or a lounge–in Bleaksky Manor, which was in Blekhon County, which was a county in Inrapaba. Noble territories worked in some weird ways, but all Leok really knew was that they hadn’t had to pay any taxes while in the county, so she was already pretty damn sure these nobles hosting her reunion with Rishak wanted something. “I think we’ve been ‘reunioned’ enough here, and I’d like ta get down ta business here. Why’d ya put this meetin’ together?”

Turned out, the answer was a really simple one. The young lady, who was apparently Countess Valondrac–which was weird, because the vampire was the actual Bleaksky there–wanted Rishak to join her household as some kinda commander, but Rishak decided somebody else would be better suited for the job.

“...Yer kiddin’, right? Rishak, I got the tribe ta take care of-”

“No no, see, that’s the nice part. In exchange fer becomin’ Claire’s general here, she’s gonna give our tribe free reign ta go wherever we want in the County.”

“That I will,” Valondrac added in with a grin, “No travel tax, no worrying about permits, you’ll have complete freedom to go wherever you feel like, and even settle down if you want to.”

“...Yer willin’ ta give us that much?”

“Yup! It’s part of the price I negotiated with Miss Folk-Bane, so transferring it over your way should be fine, no?”

“No.”

Valondrac blinked. “No?”

Leok shook her head. “No. That’s a good deal, but I ain’t lookin’ ta join up with some noble’s guard. I appreciate the offer, but I’m gonna hafta decline.”

“...” Valondrac studied her for a moment, then smirked. “I’m not looking for a guard. I’m looking for a general. After all, I need strong people by my side if I’m ever going to take over the world.”

“Look, I appreciate what yer-...” Then it was Leok’s turn to blink. “...Take over the world?”

“That’s the plan! Though you may want to keep it a secret for a while. Jonny pointed out that I’ll need to build up my base a lot more before I go all out and declare myself the newest Demon Lord.”

Leok looked to “Jonny”, who grinned and waved, then over at Rishak. “...Did ya know about this?”

“Yup.”

“...I thought ya didn’t like Demon Lords?”

Rishak grinned. “Most’a ‘em. But her honesty appeals ta me, and...well, let’s say she reminded me a lot’a some other proud brat I know.”

Leok paused there, then looked at Valondrac, who was frowning at Rishak for the “brat” comment. “...Hm. Alright, ya got my interest. But. I ain’t workin’ fer someone weaker than I am. Protectin’, sure. Guardin’, sure. But if ya want me ta call ya my boss, my actual, full superior, ya gotta prove yer worth it.”

“Huh...Alright, you’re on.” Valondrac grinned. “Don’t go easy on me. I want this to be fun.”

Leok snorted, grinning back at the arrogant kid and definitely seeing why Rishak liked her. In that moment, the thought crossed her mind that, when Claire lost to her, she might just stick around anyway. She could train the brat up, like her chief did for her… “Don’t go cryin’ when ya lose, ya got it?”

Claire’s yellow eyes gleamed. “Got it~.”

And that’s how Leok met the second person out there who could consistently kick her ass, along with the only one she still couldn’t beat in a fight. Not that she minded. Working with Claire gave her tribe a good chunk of land to live and her plenty of opportunities to try again.

And hey, it wasn’t like her Boss was a bad person to work for. Hell, considering everything she knew about the world, maybe it needed someone powerful enough to take charge. 

Still, she couldn’t help laughing when she realized Crow’s vision had come true. Her shaman just made one little mistake about who was actually leading that army.

#writing #fantasy #the demon lord's generals #dlg #story #my writing #orcs

[nightowlfandom]

Requested- Jungkook- Man-Child

Okay everyone, I shouldn't have to repeat it BUT I WILL MOFUCKAS, PROMPT LIST RIGHT HERE!. I'd also like to make it very clear that I have not forgotten about the requests prior to this one first. I just wanted to do this one.

I may have misinterpreted what you wanted and made Jungkook getting his wisdom teeth removed the subject of this, which is most likely the exact opposite of what you wanted, so I am very sorry in advance. I figured you didn't include any details, and the prompt went so well with the idea.

So lets just say this is horny Jungkook!

9- Stop Pretending to be asleep

10- Could we go four seconds without you being annoying?

20- I'm bored, wanna fuck?

22- I can't kiss you the way I want.

"This isn't fair!" a grumpy Jungkook followed the dentist (or is it called the orthodontist?) to you where you were sitting. "Y/N this monster hurt me!"

"He's still under th-" the woman began before you held up a hand in understanding.

"Don't even gotta say it." you shook your head and laughed at your pouting boyfriend. Suddenly Jungkook began leaning against you, like a very large dog wanting to be pet. Making the doctor giggle at how cute you two were. Always good to see young people in love.

"Y/N! It's not fair." Jungkook whined. "I can't kiss you the way that I want." he pouted. "Plus my mouth kinda really hurts"

"No, baby. Not for a while." you mentally groaned at the thought of having to take care of this man-child for the next few days. It was like when he got a fever and wouldn't leave your side. "Thanks Doc." you watched as she laughed at your boyfriend ,clinging to you like you were a tree.

"No problem. Of anything goes wrong, just call." she gave you a small sheet of paper.

Replace gauze, flush mouth to wash excess blood (okay ew!) , very soft foods only... Fuck this was gonna be a long week.

...

"Y/N!" Jungkook poked your cheek. You were currently focused on something, reading the words on your computer screen when Jungkook decided he wanted to bother you. "Y/N!" he whined.

"Yes, Jungkook?" you looked over at your currently chubby cheeked lover, annoyance filled your face. "Do you need something?" he had his roll of gauze in his hand, face full of confusion.

"I don't know how to replace my gauze." he whined. The anesthetic had worn off but he was still acting like a child. "Help me." he pouted. "You have to take care of me remember!?"

Oh you couldn't stay mad at that face.

"Okay, but we have to flush your mouth too." you closed your laptop and turned towards him. Not even halfway through day two and he was already a mess.

"Okay baby." he winked. As you got up to walk past him, you felt a slap on your ass. This cheeky motherfuc-

...

"Y/N...hey! Y/N! Stop pretending to be asleep." you heard a whine stir you from your slumber. You had crashed on the couch after a search for foods Jungkook could actually eat while he was recovering. "Y/N!" Jungkook whined again. "Please??"

"Yes, Jungkook?" you opened your eyes, failing to hide your annoyance.

"I'm bored, wanna fuck?" he posed the question that made you go wide eyed. This guy would not give up. He asked you this twice within the same hour, now was a third. "I want you sooo bad baby. I wanna be inside you, wanna feel you, wanna make you cu-"

"Jungkook you're recovering, that last thing I'd want is for your bloody gauze to fall out of your mouth." you ran a hand through his hair. "Plus even if I wanted to...I wouldn't."

"But why? There's nothing else to do!" he crawled a top of you, pinning your hands aboved your head. "How long am I supposed to go without feeling you?"

"Until your mouth heals." you kissed his nose. "Until then, you are stuck pal."

"I'm so bored though!." he groaned. "Also I haven't had seaweed rice in forever!!"

"Jungkook, it's only been two days since your procedure.. You sighed. "It hasn't been that long."

"Easy for you to say, you aren't the one with a bloodu gross mouth." he pouted.

"Stoo talking so much and maybe your mouth wouldn't be gross!" you mocked his tone.

"Rude!"

"I love you, I really do, but could we go four seconds without you being annoying? It's a real pain in the butt." you said. "Plus your pelvis is crushing me!" you pushed him off you.

"RUDE!" he landed on his butt. "I will have you Y/N!"

...

"Whatcha doin?" Jungkook snuck behind you in the bathroom. You had just finished washing your face when Jungkook snuck up behind you. He wrapped his arms around your waist, prompting you to turn around. You had just came back from dinner with your friends and were currently fighting the urge to set the skirt you were wearing aflame. When you came back Yoongi had told you he was close to jumping off the roof he was so fed up. Not to mention he had to wrestle Jungkook to the ground to flush his mouth, which ended with him losing a shoe in the process. You owed him dinner or something.

"What are you doing?" you raised a brow. You were becoming suspicious as his sudden wandering hands.

"Just because we can't do anything together doesn't mean I can't do anything to you." he smirked at you through the mirror. The swelling of his cheeks went down significantly, but that didn't change anything. His hand slid under your skirt and-

"Oh yes it does!" you pinched his ear.

"Ow! Y/N! Stop it! Owww!" he whined as you pulled him out of the bathroom and sat him down on the bed.

" I have had just about enough of your horny ass!" you griped. "What part of recovery did you not understand!" you began scolding him.

"The part where it didn't dawn on you that this is the longest we've spent together since the month started." he pouted, looking down at his shoes.

Oh...fuck he was right. Shit.

"Kookie." you sighed, sitting on his lap. You brushed the stray hairs from his face. "I know we haven't spent much time together, with your career and all." you sighed. "But you know what recovery means. Yes, I miss you...but this is also very important and if waiting for you to get better also means I have to wait for other things...then so be it."

Jungkook groaned again, burying his forehead into your neck. "I can't kiss you, I can't go down on you, I can't feel my cheeks, I can't eat sushi rice!" he complained.

You scratched the back of Jungkook's head, rolling your eyes.

"You can do all these things when." you poked his chest. "You." poke "recover!" poke.

Another groaned and Jungkook fell back onto the bed.

"At least be my pillow for a while." he sighed. You didn't argue as he began softly snoring.

"Sweet dreams...you big baby."

#bts smut #hoseok smut #jimin smut #jungkook smut #kpop imagines #namjoon smut #seokjin smut #taehyung smut #yoongi smut #bts imagines #jeon jungkook #bts scenarios #kpop scenarios #kpop smut #imagines #smut #kpop imagine #jungkook imagine #bts fluff #jungkook #jungkook fluff #fluff smut #fluffy jungkook

[saddlepunk]

Still workin out how i wanna draw my pets but i’m goin for that anthro look bc i’m uuuuuh... furry. These are all super quick n sketchy because I’m too lazy to make full ref sheets right now alsdkgjgghh

The top set is my current collection of kids! From left to right: 

Bernardynn (he/him): A pirate draik who used to be a bruce and is still kind of adjusting to his new lizardy body. He still really loves the cold which is Bad bc he needs to sunbathe A Lot now. Honestly he kind of didn’t want this transformation but he was sorta bullied into it by his old “friends” and now he’s just sorta gotta adjust to it. Gets along best with Fowoke because they understand each other, even if they’re going through different things.

Markiyus (they/them): An Aisha. Where’d they come from? What are they doing here? Nobody knows! They just kinda wandered in and stuck around bc nobody told them to leave. They pay rent too so that’s nice. Doesn’t seem to speak?? Ever? And only seems to partially understand what anybody else is saying. They nod their head a lot but they don’t actually seem to know what they’re agreeing with. Still a good pal so whatever.

Eliwinn (he/him): a sorta dozy xweetok. Never seems to be 100% all there. Likes to read and take naps and that’s pretty much his whole life. Does a lot of BD training for no discernible reason, so he’s currently the strongest out of his lil friend group. He’s really gullible and will do whatever he’s told if the person sounds confident enough, which gets him into a lot of trouble. He and Marki aren’t allowed to hang out without Supervision because they can’t say no to people. Twins with Anniwyll.

Fowoke (foh-woh-kay) (she/her): Transgirl Ixi, just doing her best. She’s the Adult of the household, making sure everyone eats breakfast and brushes their teeth and so on so forth. She acts like it’s a pain but really she loves this kinda thing. Currently trying to save up enough to get herself a Strange Potion but it costs money just to get a job so it looks like it’s gonna take a while. She’s also Very Much Gay.

Anniwyll (she/her): Eliwinn’s twin sister, and a Big Big Lesbian with a crush on Fowoke. Anni wants to FIGHT all the time, but she ends up skipping out on practical training in favor of real world experience. She loves travelling and poking her nose into places it shouldn’t be. The fact that she hasn’t gotten seriously hurt yet is a miracle tbh. 

Lastly!! I did a quick request doodle for @neo-petty!!! Thanks for sending me your kid~ I’m still lookin to doodle other people’s pets so feel free to send em in!!

#neotag #neoart #aisha #xweetok #ixi #draik

[myselfinserts]

“I’m restless! I can’t help it!”

Tanith let out an exaggerated sigh. As much as she enjoyed shadowing her mentor, today was a rather quiet day in Elspie Village. Far too quiet. And all they were really doing was walking around the docks on the usual patrol route. A route they’d walked twice that week with L when showing her around. There weren’t even any villain threats around. 

It was boring. Far too boring. 

Please, I just want something interesting to happen!

“Hey Luci?” Tanith asked. “How much longer are we gonna walk around?”

Luci looked at her, expression hidden by their mask. “You and L said you wanted to do some hero work. This is part of that.”

“Y-yeah, but-”

“Smells like fish,” L mumbled. 

“Well, it is a fishing town,” Luci sighed. “Hmh, I still have some ground to cover, but you two can go on ahead back to the town center if you want. We’ll focus more on combat training tomorrow.”

L nodded. “I think that’ll work. I wanted to go to town hall anyway.”

Tanith smiled. “Okay then. We’ll head there.”

Luci reached into one of their pockets, pulling out their wallet and handing Tanith some cash. “It’s almost lunch time. Go get something to eat too, okay?”

“Okay Luci! Let’s go L!”

“Lunch sounds good.” L followed Tanith off the docks, the two of them heading back to the town center at a brisk pace. “Is patrols and combat training all you and Amaryllis do?”

Tanith shook her head. “No, I’m also studying law. Kinda required, ya know? And we also do psychology studies as well because of our quirks affecting emotions.” Her smile wavered slightly. “Mostly, they’re like another sibling for me. Always looking after me and helping raise me. It kinda feels like they don’t want me to go the hero route for some reason.”

L let out a soft hum. “To be honest, I don’t blame them. I wouldn’t want my family becoming heroes in Elspie either.”

“Hehe, yeah, I guess.” She sighed, lightly tugging on one of the curls in her hair. “I guess Elspie’s failed to impress, huh?”

“Elspie failing to impress me? Correct.” A light smile covered her face. “But you? I’d say you’re the most impressive thing about this place.”

Tanith’s face dusted pink. “Oh...th-thank you.” 

L smirked, lightly poking her in the arm. “You move about way too much though.”

“Hey, I’m restless! I can’t help it! It gets boring fast in a town this small...”

“Relax, I’m only teasing.”

“Oh. Sorry.”

“No worries.” With a gentle hand, L reached up and pat Tanith on the head. “You seem like you’re not used to having a friend tease you.”

Tanith’s stomach sank. “Yeah...I’m sure you’ve noticed already, but-” she glanced over her shoulder, noticing a couple of people whispering while watching them pass by “-I’m not exactly well liked here. Most darkness absorbers aren’t here.”

“Mhm. Perhaps a trip to Estmund is in order then.”

“Estmund?”

L reached into her pocket, holding up a brochure. “It’s a long boat ride from here, but the kingdom is your island’s neighbor. I hear their king has a quirk just like you.”

Tanith’s eyes went wide and she gingerly took the brochure in her hands, looking it over carefully. There were photos of beautiful markets, vast forests, and amazing ships. Wide open fields, a magnificent castle, and cats in every other shot. There was even a segment on castle tours, with a black and white image of King Davis beside it. 

“Someone like that has a quirk like me?” 

“Yep. That’s part of the reason I wanted to go to town hall.” She tapped the brochure, pointing to the segment about the crime rate. “There’s no heroes there, and they only occasionally hire heroes from here, and yet things are prosperous. I want to submit a form to go visit on hero business and learn more.”

“L, that’s fantastic!” Tanith handed her back the brochure. “We should go! I bet there’s all kinds of things we can learn there!” Her excitement dimmed slightly. “But I don’t know if Luci would be allowed to go. Or Marianne. I can’t exactly go without a supervisor...”

L smirked. “I know just the hero to ask to be our escort. No need to fear.”

Without another word on the matter, Tanith smiled, and the two continued their way to town hall. Despite the out of season snow having been mostly cleared away, the chill in the air remained, causing passerby to huff out air in swirling steam. The closer to the building they got, the more side-eyes Tanith felt burning holes into her back. She tried to ignore it. Her penpal didn’t run away, and was funny and kind and genuinely seemed to like her. Nothing could take her down from this high. 

Though it did waver just a little when the security guard stopped them at the door. 

“Sorry,” said the guard. “Town Hall is closed to the public today. Only Heroes and public servants can enter.”

“But I’m in the apprenticeship course,” Tanith said. 

“Then where’s your mentor? You can’t be here without a supervisor.” 

L stared at him, lightly tapping her cane. “And why not? I have a provisional licence.” She reached into her pocket, pulling out the card from her wallet to show the guard. “See?”

The guard sighed. “Okay, you can enter then.” He pointed to Tanith, eyes narrowed in warning. “You have to wait outside.”

“That’s not-”

Tanith put a hand on L’s shoulder, shaking her head. “No, it’s okay. I’ll just wait outside. You go take care of your paperwork.”

“...are you sure?”

“I’m sure.” She smiled fondly. “I’ll be fine. Really.” She glanced around, eventually finding a bench just across the street. “I’ll wait over there. Then we can go get lunch at the Secret Felines. Okay?”

“Okay. I’ll be quick then.”

L hurried inside, and Tanith went over to the bench, letting out a sigh as she saw the guard return to work. As she sat down and looked up at the sky, she saw that the snow was starting to fall again. No doubt from another bout of heroics from the islands ice type users. Tanith didn’t want to admit it, but she was rather jealous. She’d give anything to have a quirk like that. At the very least, it’d make things easier on her family. 

But...L doesn’t seem to mind. Neither do Elmo and Raph. Or my family...is it really okay for me to be a shadow absorber?

Tanith shook her head. No use crying over something she had no control over. What’s done is done, and she had to make the best of it. 

“I wonder what Elmo’s up to right now,” she mumbled. 

“Hey Tan!”

Tanith turned around in her seat, a surge of joy sending her to her feat as she saw the very same pink haired lad running up to her, dressed head to toe in winder wear and carrying a decent sized cardboard box under one arm. She threw her arms around his shoulders briefly, unable to feel anymore sadness. 

“Hey Elmo!” she greeted cheerfully. “How’re you?”

“I’m good. A little chilly, but what else is new on Elspie.” His face was painted with a soft blush, his red eyes gentle and warm. “So, um...how’re things? I heard through the grape vine that Amaryllis got a couple of kids grounded.”

“Oh, that,” Tanith sighed. “Yeah, some of the big kids threw snow balls at me filled with rocks. But it didn’t hurt, really. It’s fine. I’m used to it.”

“That’s still not fair.” Elmo grimaced. “If...if I were there, I’d have-”

“You’d have what?”

“Whaaa!?” The boy hid behind Tanith, shaking as she turned to see L, who was holding a folder under one arm. “Wh-who is that?”

“That’s what I was going to ask.” L looked at Tanith, then back to Elmo. “Is this kid bothering you?”

Tanith shook her head. “No, it’s okay. He’s friendly.” She looked at Elmo, trying not to laugh. “And don’t worry, she doesn’t bite.”

“You sure?” Elmo peeked around Tanith’s shoulder. “She’s not gonna...eat me, is she?”

L’s eyebrow quirked up slightly. “Nomnom.”

“Eep!” 

“Relax!” Tanith giggled. “L’s not gonna eat you. You’re too gamy.”

“No you too...”

“It’s okay, Elmo, really.” She stepped aside, moving so L was to her left. “Elmo, this is L, my pen pal. L, this is Elmo Sterling, my best friend from school.”

“Pleasure to meet you,” L said. 

“Y-yeah,” Elmo stammered. “You too.”

“We’re gonna go get lunch,” Tanith said. “You wanna join us?”

Elmo smiled timidly. “S-sure. Uh...where, uh, did you want to go eat?”

“The SF, of course!”

“But...it’s closed right now.”

Tanith’s eyes went wide. “Really? Ceri never closes the SF except for two days in the whole year!”

Elmo shrugged. “He was leaving with that cool looking guy he’s always with, so-”

The girls gave a soft “ah” in unison, nodding approvingly. “His boyfriend,” they said. 

“Yeah. That’s the guy.”

“Mreow!”

Tanith and L’s eyes snap towards the box, Tanith’s eyes practically glowing while L’s expression remained neutral. Elmo chuckled nervously, lightly tapping the box as if to try to quiet it. 

“So,” L said slowly. “What’s in the box, Elmo?”

“Uh, it’s, um. W-well, you see, I...”

“Mrrrow!”

He winced, letting out a sigh and setting the box on the bench so he could open the lid. The girls leaned in, letting out soft gasps at the contents. Inside the box was a fat calico Scottish fold, laying on a fluffy black and blue tartan blanket, wearing a green collar with a small bell on it. She stared up at them with two-colored eyes. One green, one blue. Both bright and shining like stars. She practically started purring when the girls saw her. 

“A baby!” Tanith giggled. 

“Pretty angel,” L agreed. “Where’d you get her?”

“Mom and dad rescued her on a mission and we’ve been looking after her,” Elmo explained. “But we can’t keep her anymore. Raph’s moving in to finish school and his asthma has been acting up, so my parents didn’t want to risk him having an attack. So I have to find someplace for her to stay.”

Tanith reached down a hand, lightly petting the cat, who nuzzled into her touch. “We could take her. My uncle is allergic, but as long as she stays in my room and we don’t say anything-”

“Are you sure?”

“I’ll just say it was my idea,” L added. “I want to stay with the kitty a little longer.”

“Then it’s settled!” Tanith smiled brightly. “Kitty will come stay with us.”

Elmo chuckled. “Okay. Oh, uh, she does have a name though.”

“What is it?”

“Meatloaf. Because she stole dad’s meatloaf when we first brought her home.”

L smiled. “Adorable.”

The kids spent the rest of the day buying supplies to take care of Meatloaf, making a quick pit stop at the Rose Dust cafe for some tea and sandwiches. Marianne and Uncle Elbert were out for the day due to a doctor’s appointment. By the time they’d gotten home, the kids had set up the bedroom so that Tanith and L could look after the cat with little to no problems. 

When Tanith went to bed that night, she didn’t think she could feel any happier. 

“Tanith. Tanith wake up.”

Tanith grumbled away, rubbing her eyes as she glanced at the clock. “L? It’s only three in the morning. What’s wrong?”

“Look!”

Tanith followed L over to Meatloaf’s bed, trying not to yawn. It’d been a week since the cat came to live with them. And despite the occasional sneeze from Uncle Elbert, no one seemed suspicious. 

But as she saw what had L all worked up, Tanith knew they wouldn’t be able to hide the cats for much longer. 

There, breathing slightly heavily, was Meatloaf, snuggled up to five adorable kittens. One large, fluffy tabby. A little one with a black coat with white spots. Two that were calico like mama. And the last, the smallest of them all, was a golden blonde tabby. 

“Oh my,” Tanith whispered. “They’re all so cute.”

“They are,” L said fondly. “But...what are we going to do? We can’t hide the kittens. They need to see a doctor.” She reached out her hand, lightly petting the biggest kitten, who seemed to naturally lean into her. 

Tanith nodded. “As much as I don’t wanna risk losing Meatloaf, the kittens come first.” She glanced at the door. “I’ll go get Mari.” 

The rest of the night faded into morning fast. There was some frustration, but none of the adults got mad at them. Soon, everything for the cats were moved into the living room, and Luci went to get the vet, since Meatloaf was insistent on not leaving the house. Breakfast was quiet, but not unpleasant. 

“Well,” Elbert sighed. “At least I know why I’ve been all sneezy now.”

“Still surprised you’re not mad,” L said. 

Elbert shrugged. “I once hid a Newfoundland in my house for a year before my parents realized what was going on. Honestly, I’m just glad you felt okay enough to trust us when the kittens came along.”

“Can’t we keep them, uncle?” Tanith begged. “Please? I know it’ll be a lot of work, but-”

“I’m afraid not, kiddo. At least, not all of them. If you wanna keep Meatloaf, I’ll learn to deal. But financially, we can’t afford to keep all five long term.”

L looked down at her lap. “We have our Estmund trip coming up. And by the time Camilla’s old enough to come back with me, I’ll already be back home. And I don’t know if I could send for her given Elspie’s less than helpful way of doing things.”

“You have a point.” Elbert sighed, lightly tapping his finger on his chin. “It’ll be a bit much but...Let me call Rosine. See if we can pull a couple more strings. It’d be easier to send, uh...” He glanced at the bundle of kittens “which one’s Camilla?”

“The big tabby,” Tanith said. 

“Right. It’d be easier to send her along once old enough if she were in Paris, right?”

Tanith’s eyes went wide. “Are you saying we should send the cats to France with Regi?”

“That’s exactly what I’m saying. Regi needs something to do since he’s got less hero work to do at the moment. Let me work something out.”

“Okay.” Tanith looked at L, who smiled back at her. 

It was all going to be okay. 

#myselfinserts #mybnhaocs #friend's ocs #class of aus: College AU #lets have some cute little hero bonding #also LET THERE BE MEATLOAF

[letsprayitwritesitself]

groundhog dave part 12

The night before, he had tried to set his alarm clock even earlier than it had already been, before forgetting that even that would be erased with the new morning. So he woke up at six, stomach twisting, hoping that he had enough minutes in the day to do what he wanted.

For the first time since all the bullshit started he stood up straight away, pulling on his lounge pants and slippers before slipping out of his room to go and find Jack and Crutchie before they left. They were in adjoining rooms so he knocked on Crutchie's door, then Jacks. He beckoned Crutchie over to Jack's room as he waited for Jack to open the door.

'Everything okay, Davey?' He was dressed but not quite awake yet, stifling a yawn as Davey answered.

'Yeah, I'm sorry to bother you, Crutchie. Wanted to catch you before you head off.'

'Is it about the broadcast? Cuz I think we're gonna be fine, you know we could do it in our sleep.'

'It's not. It's something else.' He stared at the door until it opened, aware that Crutchie was eyeing him. Jack appeared, a vision, eyes barely open, leaning on the doorframe like standing upright was way too much effort this time in the morning. 

'Five more minutes,' he whined, and Davey cleared his throat, not looking at Jack's biceps in the white vest he was wearing, or his messy hair, or the fluffy slippers he couldn't help but double take at. He stood up straighter when he saw Davey, rubbing his eyes. 'Dave. To what do I owe -' He let out a huge yawn, covering his face with his hand.

'Sorry to wake you, Jack.'

'Nah, been up for... hours.' Movement over Jack's shoulder caught Davey's eye. He looked up, and his stomach dropped out of his ass as he watched the man in Jack's bed roll over. He couldn't see that much of him, just one bare leg and a pair of navy boxers, and he had the entire duvet bunched up in his arms like a jerk. Who the fuck was that? He blushed fiercely and averted his gaze. Jack cleared his throat, pulling the door behind him and stepping out into the hall. 'Everything okay, Davey, thought we were meeting you there?'

'I - yeah. It's fine. All fine. All great. I...' Fuck. What had he come down for? God, what had Jack done? Where had he found this guy? Words. He had to find the words. 'Wanted - to - see you guys. Really quick. Before the broadcast.' He turned to Crutchie, who was staring at him, vaguely concerned. 'Can we meet in the dining room in five minutes?' 

// He sat at the table, staring into space. 

Every... single... night. Every time he had woken up on this fucking day, Jack had been upstairs with that guy.

Crutchie sat opposite him and he forced himself to give him a shallow smile.

This whole time Davey had been slowly letting himself fall in love with Jack - and he knew, obviously, that it wasn't a betrayal, because as far as Jack was concerned, they were nothing. 

'Sleep alright, Davey?'

'Huh? Oh.' But if it had always happened, then even when he and Jack had kissed, that was less than a day after Jack had been with someone else. 'Yeah, it was okay. You?'

'Great! I love coming back to this place.' 

He himself had slept with Spot despite developing these feelings for Jack. He knew better than anyone, that that didn't mean Spot was the love of his life. Jack wouldn't have kissed him that night if the guy he had slept with was anything other than a one night thing.

'Guys.' Jack sat down next to Crutchie. 'How we doing?'

So why did it feel like he'd been smacked in the face?

He made himself smile again, unable to look directly at Jack so settling on addressing Crutchie and a spot just a couple of inches left of Jack's ear. 

'Thanks for coming down, guys. I know you're excited to get out there. I just wanted to talk to you about an idea I had.' He cleared his throat. He had rehearsed these words so much, falling asleep last night, in the shower just now - he just needed to find the rhythm. He had a whole list of things he needed to get done today, but they all hinged on telling Jack and Crutchie what he wanted to do. Logic dictated that they'd like the idea, since they had when he'd come up with it - but then what about any of this was logical anyway? 'It's gonna be quick, and rough, because I want to get it done today - but I think it's gonna work. It's a feature, for the show, about Punx. Like, about the people who live here, who were born here. We come by for one day every year, piggybacking on their tradition, and running back to Philly, and I just - forget that it's a place.'

Crutchie and Jack stared at him. Crutchie raised his eyebrows slowly and nodded. 

'Like... Humans of Punx.' Jack replied.

'Exactly. I know I'm not the only person who thinks that you have to live in a big city to be fulfilled, at the expense of my wellbeing, and happiness, and just - like, I might be wrong. You know? So let's find out. Crutchie, I thought, if you could tape it, plus be the kind of... like a researcher but you've already done the research, kind of thing. And Jack, I'd really like it if you could present it.' Also I love you and I'm kind of struggling here can you tell. 'I wanna get a really clear idea of this before I pitch it to Andy, but I'll make sure you get paid for the extra work.' He took a breath. Finally looked Jack in the face. 'What do you think?'

//

'My dad... and my dad's dad... and his dad... and his dad - they were all born here. It's just where we are, y'know! If we don't stay in one place, how can anyone find us?'

'You always knew you were gonna stay?'

'Oh yeah. People wanna try and say the grass is always greener on the other side, well, I don't even believe that much. However green the grass is here, that's how green it should be.'

'A lot of people would think a kid your age would wanna travel.' 

'Oh sure, I've travelled. Been to Thailand, Berlin, Australia, spent a summer in London. What a year.' Jack raised his eyebrows but kept holding his mic out to the kid. 'Coming back to Punx was like a warm hug.'

'Can't argue with that, except for maybe the "warm" part. Diane, you moved here?'

'When I was six. From Puerto Rico. Mom and dad heard about this place from a pen pal. Unassuming, they said, with a whole heap of personality. And they said if that's not the perfect place.'

'We were next door neighbours,' Nick continued for her. 'I was in the grade below. But I was smart. So I helped her with her homework through the fence. Then she started helping me with mine. Then we started helping each other with real problems, y'know, acne, parents fighting, sick pets. And we just never really stopped.' He tightened the arm round her shoulders in a playful squeeze and she grinned, closing her eyes. 

Jack turned to the camera, eyes wide, and Davey observed from behind, arms folded, persistent envelope of anticipation unfolding in his stomach. How long had it been since he'd had a project he believed in? 

Not that this had been approved by Andy yet. That came later.

'Thanks, guys. Happy Groundhog Day.' Jack shook their hands and waved as they headed off. 'Well, that was fucking adorable. I wanna watch their movie.' 'Hopefully the guys at the network agree.' He hadn't expected to care this much. Obviously there was a lot at stake - he found himself so sure that this was the key, but then he had been that sure about other things. Kissing Jack, asking for a promotion. No, there was something else. Did he... God, did he care about getting this made? Did he... believe in Punx? Oh, fucking hell.

He walked along the high street with Jack and Crutchie, eyeing the crowds for potential subjects. He didn't know if the people of Punx had surprised him or not, if he had expected their comments to hit so hard - or if he just hadn't thought about it before.

His gaze chanced upon Spot, shuffling along a few yards away, hands in his pockets, scowl poking out from a thick blue scarf and woolly hat. He steered Crutchie and Jack over.

'Excuse me.' Spot turned to him, apparently vaguely disbelieving but not necessarily annoyed at being stopped. 'Do you mind if we ask you a couple of questions about Punx?' He was beautiful. Behind the glare. Actually, maybe still with the glare. Because he was here on this day, and that meant something.

'No thanks.'

'We're looking for some words on what Punxsutawney means to people. Just a few comments?' 

Spot paused, looking like he'd already had about ten ideas jump into his head.

'Doesn't really mean that much to me.'

'Well, that's something. Could we start there?' He stared at Spot. He knew he'd have something to say. 'We don't have to show your face in it. Would that help?' 

'Fine.'

Jack started talking to Spot. Davey nudged Crutchie with a quiet 'May I?' and took the camera, staring down into the monitor and focusing it on Spot's hands as they fidgeted with the ends of his sleeves, his mouth as he paused between words to bite his lip, his feet as he balanced his weight while deciding what words to use. 

'I think Punx is... a place. Just like every other place. Rains here. Some people voted for Trump. Some didn't. Might as well be here over anywhere else.'

'Shouldn't you love where you live?'

'That's unrealistic. I think. Maybe.'

'You could move?'

'I could. I don't... love... this town. But I am trying.' He sighed, squinting up into the bright cloud. 'Look, truth is, I trust my dad, and he picked this place. Even though he was a twenty year old punk when he came here. That means something, that he chose it. I coulda grown up in Brooklyn, where he was born. I've never been. Wouldn't know what to do if I got there. Don't know if that means I'm scared, or... Yeah.'

'See yourself taking the leap soon?'

'Maybe. Hopefully. Probably not - I still ah, have that little bit of hope. From him. That this is where I should be. Catch me when I'm eighty still hanging on to it.'

'You haven't talked to that many people about this, have you?'

'Would you? Sun shines out of Punx's ass, haven't you heard.'

'Crutchie...' Davey leaned over, trying not to disturb Spot's rhythm. 'See that guy over there - the one on his own? Can you grab him?' He flicked his gaze back and forth between Spot unloading, and Crutchie bringing Race over. 

'You say you're trying to have faith in this place because your dad chose it,' Davey started, keeping an ear out for Crutchie to finish explaining to Race what they were doing. He stepped back to capture both Spot and Race's midsections in the frame. 'Can I ask how you came to Punx?'

Race stared at him, then glanced at Spot, and took a deep breath in. 

'Got a job here,' he nodded. 'Start on Monday.'

'Excited?' 

'Yeah. I'm not sure. I don't know if I'm anything yet.'

'Where are you from?'

'Manhattan.'

'Manhattan? Lot of people might try and do the reverse, right?'

'Well, y'know. I might go back. But they say everyone leaves the city eventually, right? I'm just... speeding it up.'

'First impression of Punx?' Davey glanced up as he asked this, noting that Spot was staring up at Race from under his eyelashes rather than using the lull in his own interview to escape. 

'I like it. I think. Everyone's nice. That might grate, I'm not sure, you know when people are like... TOO nice. It can be a bit much. But uh, no. So far I can see maybe why people spend their whole lives here.'

'People... feel like they don't have a choice.' Spot spoke up, in a low voice, now squinting into the distance. 'But they think that's a good thing.'

'If they think it's a good thing doesn't that make it a good thing?' Davey cast the camera over to where what looked like four generations of one family were spilling into the square. 

'I guess so. Look, Punx gives people a really strong sense of identity, I think, and if that's the identity that you want, then you're laughing.' Spot left it there, glancing down at the floor. 'That enough?'

'That's great. Thank you.' He reached out and shook Spot's hand, then Race's. Falling asleep with Spot bound to wake up without him meant he'd never actually said bye to him, and as the clock struck seven and Davey found himself drawn towards the square to do the broadcast, he felt a swell of melancholy well up inside him, one that reminded him that not everyone in Punx was unbearably chipper. And Spot was just a guy, he wasn't here to be a character in Davey's story. He lived here, he'd be here when they finally left. All of Punx would still be here. 

He passed the camera back to Crutchie and glanced over his shoulder as they walked to see Race and Spot still standing there, talking. Race tentatively extended a hand out, and after a long couple of seconds, Spot shook it.

'Solid shout on the interviewing people, Dave,' Jack addressed him as Crutchie checked the feed with the Philly studio. 'I think you've caught Punx at its Punxiest.'

'Yeah?'

'We got some solid stuff already, and it's just seven!'

'I hope it stays like that. I wanna edit something together really soon to send back. I just... don't know how much to expect from the people that live here, is that terrible to say?'

'Nah. Not everyone will have some groundbreaking comment, y'know? I bet not everyone even knows how they really feel about Punx.'

'Let's hope we haven't already spoken to the only four people to have any comments.'

'Does this mean we're staying a little longer after the broadcast?'

'Yeah. I mean. We can play it by ear. If you're okay with that?'

'I'm way okay with that.'

He stood behind Crutchie as they did the broadcast, arms folded across his chest, watching Jack with a nagging discomfort. He had woken up thinking that he had this. That he had jumped over the obstacles and finally been able to formulate the kind of day that was the opposite of that first day - engage with Punx, look around, don't wish the day away - but seeing someone else in Jack's bed wasn't the kind of thing that happened on a perfect day. It had made him want to turn right around, hide in bed, and start again with a day that didn't involve him imagining Jack with someone else. 

Plus, there had been numerous other times he'd thought that he'd had it. The day he broke his arm. The one where he kissed Jack. And yet here he was, on Groundhog Day. Again.

But then. It had happened. It had always happened. Even if he didn't see it. It would always have, and maybe... Maybe he could never know what a perfect day felt like, or what kind of day would end the cycle. He was going into this entirely blind, but the personal leaps and bounds that he had already made in trying to escape this situation made him... almost glad that it had happened? 

He froze, and tears stung his eyes, and a lump materialised in his throat. He hated it, he hated that it was happening. But then, maybe, he hated the person who it had happened to. The angry, tired, frustrated Davey who waited and waited for bad days to make way for the good, instead of trying to formulate good ones for himself. He might not have looked twice at Jack, if all this shit hadn't happened. Or anyone, really, who wasn't directly related to his career and its progression. But there was value in the last however many days, despite the fact that he was in exactly the same place every morning. There was value in talking to these people, the ones who lived in Punx all year long, who did Groundhog Day every February - and value in taking a break, and chilling the fuck out. Whatever happened that made this cycle stop, wherever he was with Jack, or with the station, when he woke up on February 3rd, it was probably where he was meant to be, and he realised that he would always have to be thankful that the universe glued him to this day.

The cold gust of wind broke him out of his reverie, and he looked around to see people starting to leave, snow starting to fall, and Crutchie lowering the camera.

'Earth to Dave?' Jack's tone was kind, face concerned. He stepped forward and Davey blinked several times, shaking his head.

'Shit, sorry guys. Good job.' Snow started to fall. Jack lifted his hands up to catch the snow.

'It's snowing!'

Davey smiled. 'How about we go get some more footage at the diner? Brunch is on the station.'

//

'I cried all night when I moved here. It was for my husband, William, he was born here but we met at college in Rhode Island, you see.' They sat opposite the old woman in the diner, Jack asking questions, Crutchie filming, Davey watching distantly as he edited together the footage they already had, one earphone in, half-listening to her. 'And I'm from Milwaukee. So not exactly centre of the universe, but not nowhere, you know. And we got here, and I unpacked, and I realised I had forgotten my perfume, the one my mother bought me every Christmas. Left it on the counter at home. Well, William said we can just go out and get you some more. But the nearest department store was a four hour drive. And I just thought... Carla, what are you doing here?'

He stared at the laptop screen, brow furrowed. The people of Punx had come through with the quotes. But it wasn't quite there. He let out a huge sigh as Jack sat down next to him after winding the interview down.

'How's it going, Louis Theroux?'

'It's... Almost. I like it. But I can tell it's not done.' He pushed the laptop so Jack could see, and Jack watched it, contemplative, for a few moments. 

'Punx.'

'Punx?'

'Right. Context. Shots of the town, right?'

'Shit, of course! How did I miss that? Can you think of anywhere specific?'

'Yeah! We can just explore too, right, see what we find?'

'Let's go.' He stood up, packing his laptop away, trying not to pin too much on the phrase see what we find. They found Crutchie sitting at the counter, deep in conversation with the server. 

'Crutch - sorry to interrupt. We were gonna go get some footage of the scenery.'

'That's a great idea, guys! Do you mind if I catch you up? I haven't seen Greta since a year ago!' He leaned down and grabbed his camera bag from under his stool. Davey took it from him. 

'No problem. Hey, thanks again for doing all this extra filming, I know you wanted to spend the day catching up with people.'

'Nah, c'mon, you guys know this is exactly my cup of tea.'

'It is...' Jack unzipped the camera bag and switched it on, handing it to Davey. 'Crutchie, tell us how you feel about Punx.' Crutchie grinned as Davey lifted the camera. 

'Come on guys... You wanna interview locals and stuff.'

'You're practically a local, man.'

'Well, that's it. I love Punx.'

'Why?'

'Because it's... it's modest. It's quiet. You come here, and no-one's trying to prove anything, y'know? No-one shoving anything in your face, no-one trying to outsmart one another, or crap on each other. I just think... it's a really beautiful town. It's the perfect antidote to living in a big city.'

'Is that why you make such a huge effort to get to know everyone?'

'Yeah. Well, I do that at home. I just think everyone's got a whole story - we've seen that today, talking to people. But the kinda people that live here. They're just, somehow, the best of people.' 

'What would you say to people who think that small town living is for small people?'

'I think that every person has the potential to make the best of any place. You're gonna be the same person whether you live in Punx or Philly, but you've gotta know that beauty can be found everywhere. You've gotta love life, and life ain't localised to one spot. I don't know, maybe you have to see that before you can appreciate where you came from.'

Davey closed his eyes for a moment, and nodded. 'Thanks, Crutchie.' 

'You okay, Dave?'

'Yeah. I just. You got it in one, man.' He smiled at Crutchie. 'We'll leave you alone.'

//

They walked away from the bakery. The puppy squirmed in Jack's arms and Davey placed the second half of the cupcake in Jack's mouth, re-enacting one of his favourite portions of this day's previous versions. It felt like years since these events had occurred for the first time, though he always remembered that they would be happening, whether he was here to experience them or in the hotel room ignoring them studiously. Again, they were a pleasant sort of familiar. He could help out, so he was. But he had to let the man fall off the ladder. Because he couldn't change everything. 

'Shit, that was a wild few minutes,' Jack quipped as they continued towards the park, after checking that the man was okay. 'I'm so glad you caught that little guy, that was way impressive.'

'What can I say, maybe it's my calling. I'm kind of thinking...' He paused as they entered the park, a vast white field peppered with figures playing in the snow, almost too bright to look at. 'We can juxtapose what Spot was saying with this view. And then maybe some shots of the main road, of people going about their business, with what Crutchie was saying about the people here. Put the narratives of that young couple and then the older couple on either side. And Race's story just in the middle.'

'That sounds like a plan, man.' Jack kicked at the snow as Davey panned around the landscape. He cleared his throat. 'Davey, about this morning.'

It was almost forgotten. In the sense that it wasn't at the forefront of his mind in that second. But Jack's words brought it screaming back.

'This morning?'

'When you saw that person in my bed. I saw you... see him.'

'Oh, I barely...'

'Yeah. Sure. I'm really sorry about it. I know it's unprofessional, we're away for business. I just. It's a bad habit of mine. Or a good habit, depending on how you look at it. And it's not a secret, that I'm bi, I just, y'know. Never expected to shove it in my producer's face.'

'You didn't shove it in my face. I came to your door. You've got nothing to be sorry for.' He paused for a second. 'We've all done it.'

'Yeah... Yeah. I guess. Thanks.'

A bad habit. Davey understood that. It was that kind of habit that had brought him back to Spot when he was at his lowest. That need for touch, just for someone to pay you attention. Maybe he was filling in the blanks too much, but it was almost reassuring in a way. Jack wasn't perfect, and he wasn't in Punx just to be a background character in Davey's redemption arc, he had his own shit. He was glad, in a way, that Jack had gone as far as acknowledging it, because even though it was technically none of Davey's business, he almost sort of wanted it to be. He had gone from not caring about Jack, to seeing him in that new light that made it look like the sun shone out of his ass, to maybe seeing that he wasn't just there to be a solution to Davey's Groundhog Day crisis. He was just a guy - a hot guy, who slept with strangers, who tried to make jokes to cheer people up even when they didn't feel like it, and was insecure and hard on himself too. 

Davey found himself overcome with the impulse to take the end of Jack's scarf and use it to pull him in for a long warm kiss as the snow fell around them in that Punxsutawney park, but swallowed it down, trying yet again to put himself in Jack's shoes. Maybe they would find themselves back where they were that one amazing day, and maybe they wouldn't. Maybe it wasn't about that. 

'So what do you think?' 

'Hmm?

Jack nodded down at the camera. 'Got enough stuff to send to Andy?'

'I... I think so. For now. It's gonna be like. A first draft, before we ask him to commit.'

'He'll understand that we did it in less than a day, right?'

'Hopefully.' He stashed the camera in the bag. 'Do you wanna come help me edit this thing? I mean - not to, like, stop you exploring Punx. But. Your input has been really helpful today.' He could still ask, right? What, was it illegal for him to want to spend time with the guy he liked? Worst Jack could do was say no. God, that would be the worst. 

'Yeah. That sounds fun.' 

They headed back out through the park, and happened upon the broken down car. Again, Davey had found that he'd enjoyed this part of the Good Day, so let Jack take over (remembering with a shiver those words Did it to impress you, wondering if they were conditional, still relevant today.) When they arrived back from the auto shop and the car was back up and running, one of the women got out of the car and placed a hand on Jack's forearm.

'Now, boys.' More new. More different. Progress? 'Don't think we haven't noticed you all being so nice to all our people. Asking our stories, getting to know us, I mean really! Usually people like you, you just soar through like Punx is the last place you wanna be!' Davey glanced at the ground then, wondering if he was meant to feel like he was getting told off. 'We love it, we love talking about Punx, and we wanna say thank you for listening. We have a dance every year to celebrate - or commiserate - Phil coming out of his hole, and we'd be honoured if you'd join us tonight.' Her grip was tight on Jack's arm, he'd joke about it lightly as they walked away. 

'That's really sweet, Mrs...'

'O'Dwyer.’

'Mrs. O'Dwyer. I wouldn't miss it.' Jack grinned at her. 'Davey, down to boogie with Punxsutawney Phil?'

'Oh, you know it.' He nodded, answering without thinking, just knowing that he had to go. 'Means a lot, ma'am.'

'You'll save me a dance?' Jack directed this at her, and Davey definitely didn't have a flash of jealousy, because that would be immature.

'Oh, stop it.' She twinkled at him, a grin creasing her eyes.. 'From six thirty, down at the community centre. Til then!'

They drove away, and Davey and Jack continued back to the hotel, past the bar. Davey winced as he remembered he had business in here as well, and couldn't tell if he had to go in to stop the fight or not. He'd almost gotten beaten up when he had done it before, and only really got away with it because Jack knew what was going on. But if he didn't, then someone else would get beat up in his place. Who was to say that, like the man falling off the ladder, it wasn't just something that was meant to happen? It was like a compulsive ritual, he felt like he had to have all the pieces in place for this day to go right, but he couldn't figure out how to make this piece fit.

'Dave, you okay?' Jack was a few steps ahead of where Davey had stopped in his tracks. 

'Yeah. Sorry. Just. Headache, all of a sudden.' Half true. 

'Oh, dude. Do you wanna duck in here and get some water?' Jack nodded towards the bar and Davey stared at him, unsure how clearly his desperation to go in had transmitted to Jack.

'Yeah. Good idea.' He turned around and walked inside with him.

He surveyed what he had seen before. Men everywhere, a group of men in fleeces and fur-lined hats playing pool, a gang of bikers standing in a wide circle, that one fateful pint of beer in its precarious position between them. He watched the man he knew was destined for a fight laugh at something, head thrown back, hacking noises up into the air, and walked forward, towards the bar. Slowly, delicately, he reached the table, and as subtly as he could, pulled it towards him, just a couple of inches. 

He held his breath.

No-one saw.

He took a step back and watched as the pool cue bypassed it, and then the biker turned around, barely seeing the pair of them, before picking up the beer and taking a gulp.

As easy as that.

But now Jack was looking at him weirdly.

'... What?' 

'Hmm?' He held Jack's gaze, mind racing for an explanation to the random action. Nothing. Then 'I thought that guy was going to knock the other guy's drink over. Thought. Just in case.'

'Oh. Good eye.'

//

When they arrived back at the hotel, finally, they sat on Davey's bed, ready to work. Then two hours passed, and Jack found himself laying against the pillows, keeping an eye on Davey's laptop screen from where Davey found himself  on his stomach, editing the video together.

'The second one.' 

'Yeah? You sure?'

'Yeah. It's more... like, it's... I don't know, I just like it better.'

Both had been thinking hard for a long time. The video was almost done. 'I mean, it's not the final thing, right? He'll know that this is... But I still wanna... God damn it.' Davey shut his tired eyes. 'I'm gonna buy our entire video production team dinner when we get back.'

'It's good, Dave - you're doing great! Just, don't think about it too much, right? Let's take one minute to not think about it, then watch from the beginning. Yeah?'

'Yeah.' Davey pushed the laptop away. Caring about so many things simultaneously was exhausting. He barely had time to celebrate being in bed... on bed... with Jack again, because this god damn video had to be done. Plus there was the matter of the dance he now had to go to. Somehow he felt like he couldn't fake the flu and duck out of it like he had with senior prom. 'Excited about this dance thing?'

'Sure! It'll be something, you know?'

'Totally. I'm looking forward to seeing you dance up a storm with Mrs O'Dwyer.'

'Oh man, you should be.' 

Was this dance his boss level? It was so hard to try and discourage himself from thinking that. He felt like both thinking about it and not thinking about it were equally damaging. 

'You might hate me for saying this... I don't know...' Jack stared out the window. 'I'm almost glad we got stuck here, y'know? Like, it feels weird even saying that we are "stuck" here. To think that we were gonna just... race back to Philly. Miss all this stuff.'

'No, I... I know exactly what you mean. It's been a good day.'

'It has. That dope cupcake.'

'The puppy.'

'Those views in the park.'

'Hearing peoples' stories.'

'Getting asked out by a car full of old ladies!'

'They didn't all ask you out!' 

'Ah, they would have. If it wasn't so cold, they woulda swarmed.'

'I believe you. Your mechanic skills were... very impressive.' Davey had rolled over on to his back and now gazed up the ceiling, thinking that Jack could take what he said either as a joke or at face value and he would be fine whichever way. A long moment of silence hung between them, which Jack broke.

'Should we watch the thing?'

'Yeah.' He turned over, and played the video. They watched in silence, the blue glow of the laptop filling up the room that had grown dark around them in the time they'd been working. It was about five minutes long. 

'Dave...' Jack spoke first. 'It's good.' Davey craned his neck to look at Jack, all stretched out on the bed, sleeves rolled up, tie loose.

'Really?'

'Yes! It's Punx, but it's like... Like it's clever, and a different angle, and just. Like. I think you did really, really well with it.'

'You're not just saying that.'

'No! No, if it was crap - not that it would be - but like, if it was, I'd find a really tactful but transparent way of criticizing it. But I literally don't need to.'

'Shit. God, I can't even tell anymore. Do you think I can send it?'

'I think you can send it.'

Hi Andy. 

While we were stuck here Jack, Crutchie and I decided to do some work on a little feature. We think it could have real value if you decide to develop it. I really hope you like it, because I do.

He clicked send, and took a deep breath in. 

'Cool.' 

'Cool.' 

He stared at the screen, eyes unfocused, imagining the email pinging across the state. All the energy had sapped out of him and he had barely noticed. Jack let out a yawn.

'When did it get so late?' 

It was four.

'I don't know...' Davey murmured, his eyes already half shut. Jack might have replied, but Davey was already almost out of consciousness. Within the next couple of minutes, both of them had fallen asleep. 

#newsies #newsies fic #jack kelly #davey jacobs #javid #YOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO I'M SORRY ITS SO LONG I WAS GONNA post it in two parts but i knew i wouldn't have any of it done until it was #all done if u get me?????? #thank u all for ur patience with this the end is nigh it is NIGH #i've been writing the next chapter already on my phone over the last couple of weeks its so stressful #still being in love with this story and having next to no time to write it #but i hope u love it because i love it

[onelovewonderwoman]

Protect You || Chapter i/?

MY BITCH @running-outta-time PUT ME IN A WRITING MOOD I LOVE HER CAUSE I ACTUALLY GOT SOMETHING DONE FOR THE FIRST TIME IN FOREVER. I've been wanting to write this for such a long time because I've never really read anything like this before. Like not the fact that the reader's someone that's cut off, but it's more like how the reader who is fem!reader, is very much more dominant and peter is (let's all just admit it) a submissive ass little smol bean. Like come on. I'm just really, really excited for this one, and I hope you guys like it. 

 tags : @running-outta-time 

 words : 1450 

Masterlist 

Protect You Masterlist

--------------------------- 

Peter Parker had never imagined falling deeply in love with a girl whom he very much feared… in a weird way. 

It was scary. 

He would stir up scenarios in his head about what it would be like to be able to hold you, kiss you… love you; what it would be like to let him love you. 

But due to the fact that you were one of the most intimidating (yet chill) people in school stood in the way. 

You’d transferred to the school in ninth grade, coming off a friendly and very much humorous and sarcastic; and that you stayed. 

However, Flash Thompson had learned not to mess with you the hard way; everyone from then on learned not to mess with you. It was after he'd picked on a girl for her weight, calling her names and relentlessly poking and prodding at her, that you'd held tight onto the collar of his shirt, shoved him into the lockers, and punched him right in the gut. You got off with two weeks of detention and a warning. 

Despite people being scared of you, you were trusted… with a lot. 

After three months of you being there you'd become the person who knew everything that went on in the school and everyone's personal lives. Whenever someone would ask for ‘gossip’ from you, you'd always reply with, “I don't spill shit, man.” 

You became almost the whole school’s problem solver, or advice giver. You became the designated best friend. 

It was a thing; you'd be their best friend when they needed it, but never, have you ever let someone be your best friend. 

Best friend, as in letting someone in, know what the hell goes on in your life, and trusting them to tell no one. 

You kept all that shit private. No one could be trusted. Except you. And you're, well, you. So you have yourself, and it's always been fine that way. 

You made that clear to anybody who tried to get close to you emotionally and mentally. Including Peter Parker. 

You hung out with Peter a lot, actually. Along with his long time friend, Ned, too, of course. 

Their intellect challenged yours, but you often found yourself with them due to the outrageous amount of bullying.

You'd defended them both against some meat heads who, for some reason, went to your very high profile school for gifted and smart kids four and a half months into ninth grade.

You'd thought nothing of it, standing up for the underdog, however Peter found himself starting to fall for you that day.

Another two weeks later, you found Peter in another similar situation, and rescued his ass once again.

After another month of doing so, you confronted him by saying, “You're one weak ass motherfucker, aren't you?” Only for you to be met with a blush and stuttering words, and for him to be met with you sitting with him and Ned at lunch the next day, and from then on.

You admit, throughout out the whole year you'd gotten to know Peter, you'd grown a soft spot for the boy; but never did that change your dominant, smooth persona in front of him or anyone else.

Throughout the whole year that you'd been friends with Peter, he'd seen it as an opportunity to get as close as possible to you. At least attempt to.

Not even emotionally or mentally by this point. He'd given up on that three months after you first sat with him and Ned.

The poor boy spent his year infatuated despite being intimidated with you, and you didn't even know it despite you ‘all knowing’ reputation. And you, poor girl, spent your year being followed around by said boy as though he were a lost puppy.

You'd always thought of it as him trying to cling onto the little protection he had from you.

It was overall that you'd spent your life defending other people who weren't able to defend themselves, and help others, no matter who they were, with their issues.

Overall, you made their problems your problems to fix.

And now you had to fix your little lost puppy’s problem today, January 14, 2017.

“Hey, Parker!” Flash spoke into the microphone of the DJ’s spin table, “Where’s that girlfriend of yours you were talking about, huh?”

You, Ned, and Peter had just entered a party the popular Liz Allan was throwing.

Peter stood there mouth opening and closing, not knowing what to say.

Earlier on at school, Flash had been taunting Peter about his love life and how he couldn't get a girl, unbeknownst to you, and Peter had replied with, “I-I have a girlfriend! I really pretty one too!”

Flash then proceeded to challenged Peter and told him to bring said girlfriend with him, still, unbeknownst to you.

“What,” Flash laughed, “Did your old pal, Spider-Man, steal her from you?”

Everyone around you three began to laugh, some looked at Peter with sympathy.

“I-I,” Peter started, but gave up and hung his head in embarrassment.

You been quick and thoughtless about consequences, only thinking of protecting the boy you'd grown to care for, when you shouted over the laughter, “How about you all shut the fuck up, cause he ain't lying.”

Flash chuckled into the mic, “Oh, what are you gonna say to defend him, Y/N? Does his girlfriend have something else to do tonight? Oh, oh, or maybe she lives all the way in Canada or some shit.”

You squinted at him and snarled, “Imma say she’s right here.”

You turned quickly, not thinking, and grabbed the collar of Peter’s flannel with both hands, pulled him as close to you as possible, and slammed your lips into his.

Peter’s eyes were open and shocked until he began to ease into the kiss and close his eyes. This was the moment he'd dreamed for since the first time you'd defended him.

Gasps were heard as your lips melded into to his for the first time.

Pulling away after a good ten seconds, which felt like only a blissful moment to Peter, you took a good look at him before letting go of his shirt collar.

His cheeks were flushed, eyes and mouth were wide in shock, and lips were slightly swollen.

You turned away from him to look at Flash, “You wanna say something else, or not get your ass kicked?”

Flash opened and closed his mouth a few times before growling and putting down the microphone, only to stalk off to somewhere in the spacious house.

Everyone continued to stare until you shouted at them, “Everybody get back to what you were doing, or else I’ll find creative things to shove up creative places on your body.”

That made the music start up again, everyone resume their conversation, and maybe start a new one about what the hell just happened in the middle of the party.

Peter still hadn't spoken, not knowing what to say.

“What the hell were you thinking when you told Flash you had a girlfriend?” You questioned Peter after you'd managed to find and pull him into a room in the house without people in there getting it on.

Peter stood there wide eyed and unsure of what to say, “I-I, um, I-I don’t kn-know?” He bowed his head

You sighed and put your thumb and index finger on the bridge of your nose and turned so your side was facing Peter.

“You do realize we have to keep this up if you don't want to be a joke, right?”

Peter looked up, eyes still wide, “You'd pretend to be my girlfriend.”

Peter had hoped that when he had the chance to be with you, especially with other people knowing, that it would be something real, but he'd take pretend. He'd take anything from you by that point.

You huffed before turning to look at him sternly, “Yes, but,” you held up a finger at his excited face, “Nothing changes. No holding hands, no hugs, no kisses, no pet names or any of that shit.”

Peter furrowed his eyebrows, “But how will people believe that we're toget-”

“Ah, ah, ah,” You put your finger on his lips and shook your head, “My rules. People know me, and my reputation. So do you. We will go to homecoming together and we'll use the whole boyfriend and girlfriend title, that's it. Understood?”

Peter nodded his head vigorously, “Yeah.”

“Good,” You said before shaking your head, began to walk towards the door, and started muttering to yourself, “I'm an idiot, an idiot. You help this god damn lost puppy and this is what you get. I need a drink.”

#peter parker x reader #peter parker #peter parker angst fanfiction #peter parker angst #peter parker fluff #tom holland x you #tom holland x reader angst #tom holland x reader #tom holland #spiderman imagine #spiderman x reader #spider man x reader #spider man: homecoming #spiderman #peter parker imagine #tom holland imagine #peter parker imagines #onelovewonderwoman #fandom #fanfiction #fanfic #avengers #avengers infinity war #captain america #captain america civil war #captain america trilogy #infinity war #ned leeds #flash thompson

[prompt-master]

Pom Pom

Anon asked: RICHJAKE FLUFFY FLOOF FLUFFISHLY FLUFY LIKE A FLOOFY DOGGO

Anon asked: Rich ‘n Jake being cuties because fluff

Anon asked: Richjake f l u f f

Idk what it is but something tells me you guys want richjake fluff so here goes nothing

—

When Jake woke up a few years ago on Halloween in the hospital he was almost certain his friendship with Rich was going to be a full stop. Words couldn’t describe how pissed off Jake really was when he figured out what happened. Who could blame him? He spent his first few days in the hospital mentally venting out his anger to Rich. He planned all the things he’d say, the grandest most emotional fuck you he’d ever come up with.

And somehow things turned out the opposite. He remembers it clear as day. He rolled into Rich’s hospital room with his rant burning on the tip of his tongue, filling his mind like a smoke in a room on fire. But when he saw Rich in a full body cast he felt everything he’d been building up rush out of him. That only got worse when Rich instantly started to apolgize.

It was in that moment Jake’s life was changed forever. He found himself somehow closer to Rich than ever before, they became the greatest two bros Middbourough High would ever see. And two years of awkward no homo jokes they somehow slipped into a comfortable relationship as boyfriend and boyfriend.

Jake was worried that college life would separate them. And Jake was worried for nothing. Because of his house burning down Jake found himself settled in a nice motel. It wasn’t the best, especially since it also meant he had to drop a lot of sports and clubs for part-time jobs, but he didn’t mind the independent living. Especially when college came around and Rich told his dad he was going to live in a dorm. Dorm meaning Jake’s little motel room.

His dreary living was instantly lit up with his boyfriend’s constant presence. Rich had a lot of energy and excitement, there was never a dull day with him around. Even on study days when they sat in a pleasant silence he found himself laughing every now and then at Rich’s stupid jokes. Rich even helped pay for food, phone bill, and the motel, all in exchange for being the big spoon.

Jake sighed at the memories, a smile tugging at his lip as he stared up at the ceiling. He rested his eyes for a moment, trying to dig deeper into the bed sheets that felt colder without Rich laying by him. Jake called out of work today, he was having a very bad leg day. The pain was flaring up badly and needed a refill on his pain medicine. If he had to go out today it’d definently be in a wheelchair. When he opened his eyes again he focused on a little orange smudge on the ceiling. From the time Rich was dancing while making a sandwich and flung peanut butter right from the knife to the ceiling. He chuckled, Rich always cheered him up.

Jake hummed and sat up in the bed when he heard the door unlock, “Hey Rich.”

Jake was instantly set on edge when he didn’t get an ethusiatic reply. He wondered if maybe Rich was having a bad day, one where he fell into a depressive mood. He listened closely as he heard the boy shuffle around from where he couldn’t see , every now and then whispering something he couldn’t make out. He seriously considered risking the pain of walking to go check on him.

“Rich? Yo, you alright babe? What’s goin’ on?”

There was pause in the shuffling, followed by footsteps. Rich’s head poked around the doorway with a cheeky smile, his red stripe strong against the bland motel wallpaper.

“Hey Jakey Baby” that playful tone only meant trouble. It meant Rich was trying to lighten him up before a shitstorm was unleashed.

Jake took a deep breath “…what did you do? I swear if you got kicked out of another Dick’s Sporting Goods I’ll-”

“Oh no no, Jake I’m personally offended. How dare you have such little faith in me.” Rich paused for a moment to look back at something he was holding out of Jake’s view, “This time, even though you’re gonna be mad at first, I did something great.”

“Mad? What do you mean-…? Rich what the fuck.”

Rich had fully stepped into view, and in his arms was a small little white puppy.

“Oh my God Rich.”

Rich smiled, petting the dog and rubbing through the agressive curls and puffs to rub her ears, “isn’t she cute! She’s a baby Pomeranian! I wanna call her Pom Pom”

Jake gave the dog a strange look. It wasn’t that he hated dogs but he su ked at taking care of himself, how was he gonna take care of an animal too? “Ok but where the fuck did Pom Pom come from from?”

Rich smiled, showing off his adorable tooth gap as he trotted over to sit on the bed next to Jake. “I was fucking around when Christine forced me to go get something she left at the shelter, y'know when she last volunteered. And she told me this little gal pal hadn’t been adopted in so long they were planning on giving up.”

Jake watched as Rich stared down at Pom Pom as though she were his newborn child. He had this smile curling up his cheeks that sent his heart racing. God he loved this goofball. Rich pet her up and down, then held her out for Jake to hold.

“Seriously man. Pet her, her fur is so fucking soft.”

Jake sighed and shook his head, failing to hold back a grin. He held Pom Pom in his lap and…well Rich wasn’t wrong, she was fucking soft as hell. His fingers ran through her fur, taking out small knots and curls.

He looked up at Rich, his hand moving in a back and forth motion over her head, “you need some impulse control.”

Rich shrugged, hopping onto the bed, “if my impulses are this awesome then maybe we should let them free”

Jake smiled, fluffing up the fur around the dogs face and watching as her little eyes curiously stared at him. She let out a little yap and god dammit that was adorable. Jake almost completely forgot about how much his legs hurt. How did Rich always seem to make things better?

Jake felt chapped lips press against his cheek and he rolled his eyes, “you know if they find out we have a dog up here we’re gonna have to find a new motel right?”

Rich shrugged, not caring even a little as he reached into a PetCo bag for a dog treat, “then I guess they won’t find out.”

Rich then placed a little bone shaped treat into Jake’s hand, “feed her dude. It’s amazing”

“Uh, ok?” Around Rich, Jake just couldn’t stop laughing.

Jake held his hand out and little Pom Pom nibbled on it, going so far as to lick his hand when she was done, “…ok so maybe she’s cute”

“I fucking told you! And I know it’s not a golden retriever like you’ve always wanted but I mean you really want a dog so”

“Wait, I don’t remember telling you that”

“Yeah,” Rich took the dog back, holding her in his arms like a baby. “You didn’t have to, I’m the, yknow, best fucking boyfriend ever? Duh?”

“I bet Michael doesn’t have to worry about Jeremy bringing a dog to their dorm”

“You kidding? Once Jeremy has an idea what’s to keep him from doing It? You give him too much credit. Why am I even with you, honestly.”

Jake hummed, rolling in the bed to face Rich, “because you’re hella gay”

“Hella bi”

Jake rolled his eyes, “How about you put that dog down-”

Rich gasped, holding a hand over his heart dramatically, “that dog is our daughter, Jakey!”

Jake flicked his forehead, dorky smile never leaving either of their faces, “put her down and make out with me.”

Rich hummed in thought, slowly putting Pom Pom on the ground so she could trot around the place. He looked back at Jake, a mischievous and loving look in his eyes. He put a hand down on the bed near Jake and leaned over his face.

“No homo?”

“No homo.”

Rich then captured up all that Jake never thought he’d have.

–

“Hey Rich?”

“Yeah dude?”

“You know you’re taking her on walks right?”

“…ugh”

“Love you, Richie”

#be more chill #bmc #richjake #fanfic #pom pom the dog dog #i'm so fu king dumb i wrote this y estersay and didn't post it im sorry

[the-monkeyonyourback]

MY BFF TAGGED ME SO I’M DOING THIS, I’M NOT TAGGING ANYONE, DO IT IF YOU FEEL INCLINED xoxo

WHAT WAS YOUR…

1. Last beverage: cherry sprite

2. Last phone call: summit, for like four hours bc life’s been crazy

3. Last text message: to my mom, from konner

4. Last song you listened to: she - dodie clark

5. Last time you cried: the other day bc i watched moana and got emotional?

HAVE YOU…

6. Dated someone twice: yee

7. Been cheated on: what fool would cheat on perfection?

8. Kissed someone & regretted it: uhm...oh...yeah.

9. Lost someone special: of course

10. Been depressed: WELCOME TO JESS

11. Been drunk and threw up: no bc it doesn’t look like fun

LIST THREE FAVOURITE COLOURS:

12. BLUE, always blue

13. purple

14. orange

IN THE LAST YEAR, HAVE YOU:

15. Made a new friend: yes and i love and appreciate them all

16. Fallen out of love: finally yes, and fallen more in love with myself

17. Laughed until you cried: like seventeen times today alone

18. Met someone who changed you: everyone has an effect on me, so yeah probably

19. Found out who your true friends were: yeah i have like two constants and everyone else is expendable lol

20. Found out someone was talking about you: i’m not that interesting so no

21. Kissed anyone on your FB friend’s list: i kiss my pals when i drink, i also friend them

GENERAL:

22. How many people on your FB friends list do you know in real life: i have met all of them at some point, but i certainly haven’t talked to most of them in years

24. Do you have any pets: i have friends who have pets so i steal their pets

25. Do you want to change your name: yes.

26. What did you do for your last birthday: took care of my drunk roommate, went to class, ate some ice cream cake

27. What time did you wake up today: uh....sometime 

28. What were you doing at midnight last night: with my friend at the hospital making sure she isn’t pregnant lol 

29. Name something you CANNOT wait for: see my family, an apology i’ll never get, a fucking nap

30. Last time you saw your Mother: september third, and i miss her a fucking lot

31. What is one thing you wish you could change about your life: feeling valid in every part of me.

32. What are you listening to right now: asmr videos bc i was gonna sleep

33. Have you ever talked to a person named Tom?: uncle tom, what a dude. also my brothers’ dad. also a dude.

34. What’s getting on your nerves right now: my roommates for various reasons but i also love them a lot

35. Most visited web page: facebook

37. Nickname: blue, does jess count if that’s all i go by? (literally don’t call me jessica tho lmao)

38. Relationship Status: what is that?

39. Zodiac sign: virgo

40. Pronouns: they/them. gotta start making that clearer rip

41. Elementary: rockway public school

42. High School: eastwood collegiate institute, integrated arts program (strings + drama)

43. College: sault college, nsw

44. Hair colour: BLUE and also brown shaved sides

45. Long or short: short

46. Height: 5′6 and a half

47. Do you have a crush on someone?: lol yeah constantly fml

48. What do you like about yourself?: resilience i think.

49. Piercings: i’m sure my ears have closed up by now. i want more but my face disagrees

50. Tattoos: treble clef, some of a space sleeve, everything, way more in my head; 4 stick and poke in memoriam 

51.Righty or lefty? lefty and proud, but gdi it’s a struggle

FIRSTS:

52. First surgery: wisdom teeth I guess. 

53. First piercing: ears, age seven

54. First best friend: molly. i miss how simple things were then

55. First sport you joined: softball. still love it

56. First vacation: uhm...no idea the first. my parents always took us all sorts of places and made us appreciate every experience they gave us

58. First pair of trainers: pink shoes that tied up that i could not tie up. the frustration

RIGHT NOW:

59. Eating: nothing

60. Drinking: nothing (wow such health)

61. I’m about to: hopefully sleep for a sec before doing some chapter notes

62. Listening to: still asmr. i am obsessed 

63. Waiting for: shit to stop being crazy so i can focus on school again. fuck

YOUR FUTURE:

64. Want kids?: fost/adopt prob

65. Get Married?: YEAH i fucking love love

66. Career?: i just wanna help people in any way i can

WHICH IS BETTER:

67. Lips or eyes: eyes

68. Hugs or kisses: hugs

69. Shorter or taller: both are great. you look good

70. Older or Younger: either within reason

71. Romantic or spontaneous: spontaneous romance? but also just romance, ugh i’m so gay

72. Nice stomach or nice arms: seriously, you look good and you also have a stomach and arms and both are nice.

73. Sensitive or loud: sensitive. i’m loud enough for seven people

74. Hook-up or relationship: relationship goes back to that loving love thing

75. Trouble-maker or hesitant: uhm idk?

HAVE YOU EVER:

76. Kissed a stranger: nope

77. Drank hard liquor: yeah boi loves the hard shit

78. Lost glasses/contacts:constantly omg

79. Sex on first date: not for me

80. Broke someone’s heart: yep.

81. Had your own heart broken: yep. broken my own heart too.

82. Been arrested: that involves doing shit

83. Turned someone down: i actually don’t know, don’t think so

84. Cried when someone died: yes

85. Fallen for a friend: YEP

DO YOU BELIEVE IN:

86. Yourself: trying my best to. ask me on a good day

87. Miracles: i don’t know, haven’t thought about it too much

88. Love at first sight: omg i’m the worst, yes absolutely 

89. Heaven: i really really want to

90. Santa Claus: no but i will sell it to the children

91. God: i believe in something.

92. Angels: i don’t think so.

well this has been a blast, thanks clare for making me do this at 3am bc who needs sleep lmao. do it if you want to, i love reading more about people and i hope you enjoyed getting to know a smidge about me

#personal #me #about me #92 things #this was fun #clare #oh-cytherea