#cellophane x reader fluff

[crimsonredfeathers]

Imagine helping your fellow students of class 1-A to decorate the common area of the dorms for a birthday party. While you're standing on a ladder, you call your boyfriend over. "Hanta, I need your help!" He, of course, is there in a split second, his mind already going through a few options for which reason you might need him. Maybe you were too short to hang the paper chain up high enough? Or did you come across an extra heavy box filled with party decorations that you would need up there? But when you showed Hanta an empty roll in your hand, it dawned on him. "I need more tape."

#mha fluff #bnha fluff #cellophane fluff #sero hanta fluff #mha x reader fluff #bnha x reader fluff #sero hanta x reader fluff #cellophane x reader fluff

[shxtodxroki]

Hanta Sero Masterlist

Here is where you will find all of my writing for Sero! I hope you enjoy, and if you like these feel free to drop a request in my inbox at any time! <3

♡ Headcanons ♡

- MHA Characters As Your Secret Admirer (2k)

#{☆} - important posts #{💌} - masterlists #sero x reader #sero x y/n #sero x you #hanta sero x reader #hanta sero x you #hanta sero x y/n #sero headcanons #hanta sero headcanons #sero imagine #hanta sero imagine #sero fluff #hanta sero fluff #sero angst #hanta sero angst #hanta sero #sero #cellophane

[notjustjavierpena]

The Making of Ellie - Part I

A/N: This DILF!Joel piece has rotted my brain for 24 hours straight. I have had absolutely no break from thinking about this, and it’s never been easier to write something.

Summary: A look into how you and Joel’s relationship is going two years in. Joel’s POV on his never-ending love for you and his extreme baby fever.

Pairing: Joel Miller x Reader/You (No y/n)

Tags: +18 Smut (MDNI!), Joel’s POV, domesticated Joel Miller, Sarah makes an appearance!!!, tooth-rotting love and fluff, they’re crazy about each other, talk about birth control and ovulation, pussy eating (joel is a cunning linguist), fingering, bit of praise kink, dirty talk, bit of body worship, breeding kink, daddy kink (if you squint real hard), slow and sensual piv sex, intense orgasms, creampie, God they are in love

Word count: 4k

Link to this work on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/49183051

Song inspiration(!!!): Too Lost In You by Sugababes

Baby-Making

Joel comes home from work around the same time each day now — and it’s never after dinner time. He has made it his mission to make time for Sarah and you, cut down work since you moved in, because two working adults living in the house means that he can slow things down. 

His health has improved, his mood too, his fatigue has practically gone and Sarah has had more time to just be a kid, started playing soccer again, and has even taken up coaching the little league team now that she’s 16. It’s good for him. You are good for him. For both of them. 

He loves it. He takes the afternoon post-work ritual very seriously. Always texts if he should pick something up from the grocery store. Sometimes brings you flowers too, remembering that one time you’d said that you didn’t actually mind the cheap cellophane-wrapped bouquets. 

It’s interesting to him how natural it feels for him to slip right into domestic bliss with you because he never thought that he would get there again after Sarah’s mother. On top of it, he never considered himself a gentle thing, but after you, it’s like you kiss the calluses of him away. He is nothing but gentle now, even in his roughness. 

He throws the keys onto the side table by the front door after arriving home, shrugs off his jacket, and bends down to take off his boots. The sound makes you appear in the doorway. Joel notices that you’ve changed into gray sweatpants and a tank top with a strawberry on it since arriving home, basically removed anything from you that is professional and uncomfortable. Joel loves you like this because he is the only one who gets to enjoy you like this; relaxed and beautiful, hair in a messy bun on top of your head and fuzzy socks on your always-cold feet. He smiles at your radiance, then pads across the floor to kiss you hello. 

There’s something in your eyes; a flicker of mischief as you grab his wrist to look at his watch. With a grin that nearly sets his heart into overdrive, you hold his hand up so he can look at the time too. 

“It’s five minutes past,” you tut.

“Right, but I got ya something,” he says, reluctantly turning away from you to rummage through his jacket pocket. He fishes out a Reese’s Peanut Butter Cup and you immediately snatch it from his hands, holding it close to your chest.

“Gremlin,” he teases and you stick out your tongue at him, “No needa hide it. ‘S too sweet for me anyway.” 

“I shall save it for later then,” you walk to the kitchen and open the top cabinet that holds the mugs. You stand on your toes to reach into the very back, shirt riding up just a little, and stash the chocolate cup for later consumption.  

“Hidden from Sa-rah, the candy thief,” you purposely pronounce her name wrong for dramatic purposes. Then you lower yourself onto the soles of your feet again, not bothering to pull your top down again. Joel watches the slight reveal of the dimples on your back.

“Right,” he chuckles. 

Dear Lord, he loves you so much that it is ridiculous. In a way that makes the future look better than it ever has because it’s no longer filled with uncertainty. He knows what’s going to happen; he’ll build a house for the three of you, he’ll marry you in the Texan spring and he’ll give you as many babies as you want. He’d do it all today if he could. 

“How was work?” You interrupt his thoughts by wrapping your soft hands around the nape of his neck, resting them there. You have rosy cheeks, feel warm against his skin, with love radiating from your fingertips. 

“Good, told Tommy to handle the next few clients. Some hotshot guy comin’ into the office tomorrow,” Joel tells you, wrapping his arms around your waist and tugging you closer. He thinks that you don’t actually care about any of this, but there’s no indication of boredom on your face.

“He building a castle or something?” You ask. 

“Somethin’ like that. Guy’s filthy rich but not from his own doin’, looking at blueprints at the end of the week. Should be interesting,” he continues, “Not that you care about that.”

“I do actually like hearing about your job,” you kiss him on the lips, peck them repeatedly until he cannot help himself and lifts you up to hug you tight. His arms rest along your back and his hands on your sides, fingers sprawled out underneath where your bra had been in the morning. You must’ve taken it off too. He loves you comfortable. 

“You just love my hands,” he retorts, nose against your cheek, “Don’t deny it. I see right through ya.”

“It’s definitely not completely wrong,” you admit when he sets you down again.

You walk back to the kitchen, too tempted by the knowledge of what is in your kitchen cabinet. You only take half, proclaiming some bullshit that you have to watch out for your blood sugar since one can never know when it’s going to get you.

Joel rolls his eyes, following you, “I can give ya some sugar.”

“Joel Miller!” You pretend to look shocked. He tastes the peanut butter in your mouth, pushes you against the counter. 

“Gross,” a teenage girl’s voice says.

“Oh right, Sarah’s home,” you announce sheepishly.

Joel pulls away to look at his daughter, “Hey kiddo. How was school?”

“You don’t care about that,” she smirks, “But if you must know, it was fine. No homework.” 

“That don’t sound like Mrs. uhhh…”

“Green, it’s Ms. Green, Dad,” Sarah says dramatically as she moves across the floor to put on shoes. Her tone turns taunting, “Go ahead and make out with your girlfriend. I’m going to soccer practice.”

“Have fun, Sarah! We’ll have dinner ready,” you chime in. 

“See ya, honey.”

The door closes behind her. The house grows quiet for a moment, but then the mischief is back in your eyes, “She’s seeing a boy.”

Joel nearly gets whiplash, not sure why his pulse spikes. He trusts his daughter to make good decisions and has taught her how since she was just a baby, “Nah, she ain’t. Just said she’s going to soccer practice.”

“Joel,” you sigh loudly, “It’s Tuesday.”

“So?”

“She has practice on Thursdays.” 

“Christ,” he runs a hand over his stubble, tries to keep his composure, and ignores the urge to send her a text. 

“But you know what?” You’re back in his personal space, tugging at his arms to make him hold you close again, “Such a fun coincidence. I’m also seeing a boy.”

Joel can feel the tension seeping out of him in an instant.

“Really? ‘Cause I’m seein’ a girl. She’s real pretty,” he wishes that he could show his past self how tooth-rottingly sweet he is being with you because he’d hate it. Though if past-Joel found out who he was treating like this, he’d instantly become a goner just like present-Joel is now. 

“‘S her sweet tooth, unhinged behavior that I love the most though,” he continues. 

You whine in his arms, lean your head back and it earns you a kiss on your neck, “Don’t be like that. Not when I’m ovulating. I’ll climb you like a tree.”

Oh.

Oh.

It may seem innocent but Joel knows this is how you play dirty. It suddenly explains a lot. The sweatpants, the rosy cheeks, the way you glow, no bra, the cravings, why Joel wants you so bad.

Joel wouldn’t say that he is controlled by biology, and he hates the men trying to argue their way out of acting like cavemen. But looking at you right now in your stupid strawberry tank top, knowing that you’re horny and ready because your body wants to make him a daddy... Joel’s head swims. 

Something shifts in the air. You can see it on him, but Joel assumes that you wait for him to act on whatever is bubbling up in his chest and below his belt.

And act, he does. He distracts you with deep, long kisses until he can snatch you up from the ground and carry you upstairs. You squeak out a giggle but don’t fight back, enjoying the freedom of being alone with him.

“That’s why you’re so fucking sexy,” Joel says after placing you on your shared bed. He is already shedding himself of his shirt, undressing hurriedly to get close to your skin with his own as quickly as possible.

You crawl back on the bed, untying the strings of your sweatpants and yanking them down your legs. You match his urgency, but still decide to tease him, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Shut your mouth,” he yanks the rest of your pants off as soon as he is naked in front of you. He throws them in the pile of his own clothes, “You know exactly what I’m talking about, dirty girl.”

You’re just about to take your top off before Joel stops you with a hand curled around the hem. He knows you’re sensitive at this point in your cycle, but it’s not why he wants to keep it on, “I love how cute you are in this shirt. Keep it on like this.” 

He crawls properly onto the bed to demonstrate and tugs the shirt up over your tits so he can still see the stupid animated fruit on the front. Afterward, he tugs your panties down your legs and off your feet. He will swear to a higher power that he can even smell it on you, sweet like strawberries and honey between your legs and it makes him feel like an animal. 

He has had baby fever for a while now, even told you his plans on giving you a whole bunch of babies and you’ve merely giggled at him, especially when he told you that twins don’t run in his family, but he is sure that nature will give him a whole litter with you. 

“Want me to eat you out?” He asks to which you whimper and nod. He doesn’t give you what you want right then and there, instead climbs up to cradle your head in his hands and gives you a long, slow kiss. He sucks on your tongue, hums into your mouth, and gets you worked up and wet before he’ll treat you right. 

“Tell me,” he says when he breaks the kiss, nosing along the bunched-up fabric of his new favorite top of yours. He sucks at the skin between your breasts, places open-mouthed kisses along the swell of the left whilst cupping the right. 

“I want you to eat my pussy,” you moan softly, running a hand over his hair as he licks a nipple. You slide your fingers into it, but you don’t tug at it unless you feel like you need to hold onto it for dear life. 

“God, you’re the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen,” he growls before going further down your body, his spit leaving a shine where his mouth has been, “Can’t believe I own these tits.”

He goes further down, lets out a satisfied noise when he can see between your legs, “—and this pussy.” 

“Yes, it’s yours, fuck, baby,” you sound delirious already, happy and eager to be touched, on the verge of a giggle even, “Joel, need your mou—“

You gasp loudly into the quiet bedroom. Joel has covered you with his mouth, eyes almost rolling back into his skull at the taste of your ripe cunt. He is too lost in you, a complete idiot with how head over heels he is for you, and he shows it by devouring you like he is starved. 

“Baby!” You cry out, sensitive, “Fuuuck— just like that!”

He watches your thighs twitch in his peripheral, holds you down by placing a strong hand just below your belly button, and uses his thumb on said hand to pull the hood of your clit back. He sucks the little now-hard nub into his mouth, sending you into a state where he is unsure if you can even sense the sheets underneath you. If you had superpowers, he surely would’ve made you lift off the bed as if you were possessed. 

He bobs his head a little, probably looking obscene as he hums against your clit and wiggles his head too. He looks up at you through his lashes, sees the red flush on your chest, and knows that you are close. Christ, he hasn’t been this into someone before. 

“I’m gonna— you’re gonna make me—“ you say like always, announcing your departure from reality. He keeps going, feeling your stomach jump in a stuttering manner underneath his palm with how uneven your breathing has become. 

“Fuck, I’m coming!” You sob with a yank of Joel’s hair and suddenly your thighs are shaking violently without your control. Joel can feel you coming before you announce it, your cunt clenching rapidly against his lips and your clit pulsing in his mouth as he sucks your folds into his mouth. You taste so good as a gush on slick smears his lips and chin even more. He laps it up.

You push him away when he gets too much, and he turns his head to kiss your inner thigh. You finally release the giggle that you’ve been suppressing, drunk on dopamine and Joel falls in love with you a bit more. 

“You’re fucking incredible,” you say. The hand in his hair slides down so you can affectionately run your knuckles over his cheek. He responds by gently rubbing your thighs, soothing you on top of putting such strain on your heart and your breath. You hum, “I love you so much.”

Without warning, he smacks your thigh and you sit up straight. He grins, “Love ya too, sweetheart. Think you can give me one more before I fuck ya?”

“Jesus, what’s gotten into you?” You ask genuinely as you lower onto your back again. 

“Wanna fuck a baby into you,” he replies, voice an octave lower than normal. He senses your shiver without having to look at your face, “Please. Wanna get her red and puffy so it fucking sticks.” 

You let out an involuntary moan at the idea. You want this as much as him, he hopes, and he slides two fingers into your neglected pussy whilst he waits for the green light to fill you up. He crooks them upwards, fingers the spongy spot that only seems to have been discovered by him, “Lemme in. Lemme come in you.”

You’ve been off the pill for a while with the reasoning that it wasn’t doing any good for your body. Joel had stocked up on condoms since then, actually filled the top drawer of his nightstand to the brim because honey, we’re young and healthy, red-blooded Americans. But it had planted the idea in his mind that he could potentially knock you up, and suddenly the stash of condoms was being used rapidly. 

“Okay,” you say with a half-moan, “Fuck, okay.”

Joel immediately sits up on his knees, still fucking you open on his hand. You squirm underneath his touch, trying to get a hold of your breathing this time, holding eye contact with him as he drags another orgasm from you. 

It is much less hurried and a lot more intense, muscles clamping down on his digits rhythmically as you bite your lip and close your eyes with a soft gasp. He can’t decide if he finds this more sexy. 

“Did you mean it?” He asks as he trails kisses up your belly. He kneels between your legs and places an elbow on either side of your chest so he can hold both your breasts in his hands. He squeezes them together, sucks on a nipple until you sigh deeply, and then watches them bounce back into place. 

“Yes,” you say and your voice doesn’t sound unsure at all, “Fuck yes, I want your babies. Wanted them since I saw you. Want you to make me a mommy.”

“The prettiest momma out there,” he says, euphoria evident on his face. He slides his arms underneath you, rests his head on your breasts, and hugs you close to his chest, “Wanna fuck ya.”

“Please,” you say softly, spreading your legs open for him but he has other plans. He releases you from his arms to sit up again, spreading his knees a little. His hands wrap around your ankles to lift your legs up onto his shoulders, your feet behind his ears. He leans over you afterward and bends your flexible legs backward until the front of his thighs are against the back of yours. He can go deep like this, fill you up with his come how he has wanted to for months.

He takes hold of his cock, eases it inside of your spent and warm cunt inch by inch. You feel incredible around his dick without a piece of rubber separating the two of you. He can feel the head of his dick nudge at your cervix, moaning quietly as he is engulfed by your wet, pulsating heat. 

“How are you still so fucking tight?” He groans, resting his forehead against your calf as he gives you a moment to adjust to the stretch. He knows he is big, gets a thrill out of how well you take him each time as if you were made specifically for him. There had been one time where he’d called you a trooper, and you had laughed so hard with his dick inside you that it had made him come. 

“You feel so big like this,” you say as you look down between the two of you, already sounding out of breath. Joel kisses your calf repeatedly and softly, trying to soothe your overwhelmed body. 

“Goddamn. You’re so sexy,” he praises, placing both hands on the sides of your head so he is hovering above you. He finds your hazy eyes, “Look at you.” 

He gives an experimental roll of his hips that makes you whimper, both hands reaching for the backs of his knees. You hold onto him, staring up into his eyes with that siren-like look in them, and then you moan softly.

Joel starts fucking you desperately at that. He doesn’t hurry though, keeps his hips’ movements slow and sensual to have you moaning and gasping ever so slightly at the intensity. He knows he could just give in and fuck you rough and fast, but the heavy-lidded gaze that you are giving him with your mouth hanging open is too good to spoil. 

“Joel,” you cry but it’s barely audible compared to what he sometimes drags from you. He can feel your nails dig into the flexing muscles of his thighs, creating half-moon shapes in the flesh. He switches to a rocking motion, and it sends your eyes rolling into the back of your head. You moan with your bottom lip between your teeth, “Mhm—“

“I know, baby, let it out,” he can see your pulse jumping wildly underneath the sensitive skin of your neck, feeling the heat of his orgasm pool at the base of his spine. He needs to be closer to you. 

“Lift your legs down to the sides,” he tells you gently, thrusts coming to a halt and him realizing that you’ve heard absolutely nothing. He repeats himself, waits for you to follow his instructions, and then hooks his arms underneath your knees. 

Joel gets closer to you by resting his weight on his elbows, his own body on top of your slightly contorted one. You reach for him, grabby hands in the air until he allows himself to be pulled in for a kiss. You cradle his face, make him feel safe in your arms. 

“I love you, baby,” he breathes deeply. The new position gives him an opportunity to reach deeper inside of you, and it’s accompanied by each upward snap of his pelvis causing his cockhead to push into your g-spot. It makes it difficult for you to continue kissing him, eventually simply breathing into his mouth as he has you speared on his dick. Never once do you let go of his face, thumbs on his cheekbones, and tip of your nose against his. 

“I love you,” you whisper, unable to catch your breath. Joel can feel your walls flutter around his dick, threatening to pull his own climax from him too soon. You pant, eyes burning, “You— baby, shit… you’re gonna make me come.”

“Yeah?” He speeds up a little, carding a hand through your hair and gently tugging on the bun. He coaxes you, “Gonna milk my cock into you? Make me a daddy?”

“Yeah,” you whimper wantonly, tightening your legs into his sides as you try moving with him, “Yeah, baby. Gonna make you a daddy! Fuckfuckfuck. Ah— I’m, I—“

Joel doesn’t know if he’s ever made you come like this; without all the muscle and rough touches, without the fast-paced snaps of his hips and the foul taunting from his mouth of how dirty you are. But come you do, with your brows furrowed, gaze on his and a controlled breathing that suddenly becomes erratic and uneven after you let out a high-pitched cry. 

“That’s it,” he admires you, “So good f’me.”

You clamp down on his cock so hard that he sees stars, fucks you through each convulsion of your cunt. His mouth drips with filth as he works himself toward his own pleasure, “You make me so fucking horny, baby. Wanna knock— ngh, wanna knock this pretty pussy up all the time. Give ya a whole fuckin’ litter.”

He tips over the edge not long after, heart pounding in his chest and the sensation in his balls tightening. He releases with a groan, settles deep inside of you to make sure he doesn’t waste a single drop. His orgasm pulses through his cock, swirls in his belly, and warms the small of his back. 

“Fuuuck,” he pants. He carefully removes his arms from underneath your legs before he collapses, allowing you to stretch out underneath him. You look completely fucked out, gasping feebly as he teasingly gives you another thrust before pulling out. 

You wrap your arms around him as he falls onto you, nose against the shell of his ear. He can barely lift his head when you speak, humming into your neck that vibrates as you talk, “You think other people have sex this good?”

“Nah, ‘s why everyone is so fuckin’ miserable, why they gotta build mansions with their parents’ money,” he murmurs. 

“Stop thinking about the hotshot client in bed,” you tease as you cradle his head in your arms, lifting your legs to wrap them around his waist. It seems you cannot get close enough, “You should only think about sticky, sweaty me.”

Joel finds that he doesn’t care about sticky, sweaty skin and you feeling like a furnace after three orgasms. He lays with you like this for a while, sure that you’ve drifted off to sleep at one point, until you push at his shoulder, voice back to your normal pitch as the post-orgasmic bliss has faded slowly, “Gotta pee.” 

“Sure,” he rolls off of you. The sight of your waddle to the bathroom makes him smile, eyes following the way the fleshiest part of your ass and thighs jiggle with each step. 

When you’ve closed the door behind you, Joel finds the strength to rid the bed of the dirty sheets and start dressing again. He’ll have a shower before bed, he decides, ignoring the sensitivity of sliding on boxers and jeans again. 

Hurriedly, he bounces down the stairs to the kitchen. He gets the rest of your peanut butter cup, places it on the nightstand with your clothes right beside it. 

He checks the time. There’s no point in trying to cook something up for dinner if Sarah is home from ‘practice’ soon, so he goes down into the kitchen to order pizza, heart thrumming in his chest as he hears you shout a thank you from upstairs at the discovery of the other half of your favorite snack. He is happy. So so happy.

Especially as he writes ‘pregnancy test’ into his Notes app shopping list.

.

.

.

@elissaaa @queerponcho @casa-boiardi @gracieispunk @hiddenbabynyc @hopelessromantic727 @livingdeadmaria @its-nebuleuse @milly-louise @cool-iguana @pawnshopbluess222 @joeldjarin @queenbrownie18 @scarletsloveletter @ladyburberry @swiftsgirlfriend @walkintotheriveranddisappear @sunnywithachanceofjavi @strang3lov3 @hellishjoel @toxicanonymity

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[spookyserenades]

Trouvaille - Chapter Eleven

Pairing(s); BTS OT7 x Reader

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

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

Word Count; 20k

Trouvaille Masterlist

Trouvaille playlist

Updates on the 7th of each month

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

Previous Chapter // Next Chapter

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Tae: Okay :) thx

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Uh–”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Jesus. Sorry, none of my business–”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Are you serious?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[frenchkisstheabyss]

✶ Cellophane ✶

✶ Pairing: model!hyunjin x model!chubby!fem!reader, model!minho x model!chubby!fem!reader

✶ Genre: fluff, angst, suggestive

✶ Summary: After discovering that your lover's attending one of the most important events of your career with another woman, a friendly face appears to save the day and steal your heart in the process.

✶ Word Count: 3.1k-ish

✶ Warnings: Discussion of the reader's struggle as a chubby babe in the industry/her everyday life. Sex is referenced but no smut scenes. Drinking, a lil sprinkle of strong language, & I think that's all.

✶ A/N: I started this out with two parts in mind 🖤 part two here 🖤 but now it'll likely end up being three so, like, ya know thanks for coming along for the ride.

This should be one of the happiest days of your life. Only a handful of models your size have ever gotten the chance to walk the red carpet during Paris Fashion Week. It’s not that you haven’t earned it. You've worked your ass off for every contract you signed. Poured blood, sweat, and tears into this even when people said a girl like you could never make it.

Every bit of struggle you've endured has led to this moment. You should be popping bottles and screaming, “Fuck you!” to anyone who doubted you. Instead, you’re sitting in the back of a black SUV in your designer gown choking back tears behind tinted windows. 

The lights of a hundred cameras flash. Miniature supernovas bursting against the night sky. A bodyguard exits on the passenger’s side, a muscular man dressed in a nicely tailored black suit, and rounds the car to open your door. With shaky hands and weakened knees you try the breathing exercises your stylist taught you.

Place one hand on your belly. Inhale for 7 seconds. Exhale for 8. But you can’t bring yourself to do it. To let that breath out would be to set free everything you’ve been keeping inside. You can’t do it anymore. It’s too much to pretend that this doesn’t hurt.

Silently cursing Hyujin’s name you exhale for 1…2…3 and you’re right back to the morning when everything fell apart. 

“Why are you looking at me like that?” you whisper, afraid to wake the sun up any more than it already has. Hyunjin wraps an arm around you, holding you close to him beneath the blankets of a bed he’s made love to you in countless times this weekend. He leans into your neck, committing your scent to memory, his fingers caressing the softness of your love handles. “Like what?” 

No one’s ever looked at you the way he does. Hyunjin’s obsessed with your beauty, fascinated by the elegance of your features. He strokes your cheek, his gaze laced with desire, and plants a trail of kisses up your throat. You inhale sharply at the little nibbles he sneaks in between, the air that fills your lungs somehow fresher when he’s around.

His hands trace the rise and fall of your hips, taking sensual handfuls of your plush. Your lips part and his mouth is at yours, sipping your dulcet moans like wine. He shifts his weight, preparing to turn you over when—

Buzz! Buzz! Buzz! Your phone vibrates on the bedside table, sending tremors through the porcelain tea cup beside it.

“Ssh, no. Ignore it,” Hyunjin begs, climbing on top of you. A curtain of dark hair falls around you tickling your cheeks. He’s all you can see. All you can feel. Your phone quiets for a brief moment before it sounds once more, the buzzing seemingly more aggressive this time. “Ugh, what do you want?” you groan, snatching it from the table.

Seeing your manager's name, you click to open the thread of texts and immediately wish that you hadn't. Being with Hyunjin has been like a dream but with every word you read, you're beginning to wake up. You’re being dragged back to the real world kicking and screaming. It can’t be true.

“Hyunjin, who—um,” you say, your voice already trembling, “Who is this?” Handing him your phone, you slip out of bed and throw on your robe. Hyunjin sits up, that ethereal glow draining from his face when he’s confronted by what’s on the screen. An article announcing his date to Paris Fashion Week, a doe-eyed blonde rocking a certified 00 couture dress who most certainly isn’t you.

You wait for him to say something—anything—to stop your heart from breaking. He rakes his fingers through his hair, nervously chewing at the inside of his cheek. “I was going to tell you—” “Oh, you were?” you snap, snatching your phone back, “When? The week of? The night of?” “I was going to tell you once I figured things out! This isn’t as easy as you think it is! My agency, they have this idea of who they want me to be with and—”

He doesn’t need to finish his sentence. You already know what he’s about to say. Some variation of what you’ve heard every day in this industry. “And it’s just not me, right? Good enough to be the fat girl you fuck in secret but god forbid anyone sees you with me.” You laugh to keep from crying but tears rush down your cheeks anyway. Hyunjin jumps to his feet, throwing on a pair of sweatpants and rushing to your side.

Hearing you say those things. Seeing you cry. Knowing it’s because of him. It kills him. “Don’t talk like that. I don’t think that way about you. You know that.” He grabs you by the wrist, attempting to bring you into his arms but you push him away. “Do I?” you ask, storming off to the bathroom uninterested in his answer. 

Locking the door behind you, you slump to the floor and cry into your soft cotton sleeves. The dream is over, Hyunjin’s pleas for you to open up drowned out to nothing. You’re fully awake now. And it fucking sucks. 

Your mind springs back to the present where the bodyguard patiently holds the car door open for you. Minho reaches over to take your hand, “Are you sure you wanna do this?” He’s been such a sweetheart. Not minding your shyness when he picked you up from your hotel or the silence on the ride here. Having you in his presence does more for him than words ever could.

Long before Hyunjin entered the picture, you and Minho would hang out at the occasional after-party or industry event. You'd even developed a bit of a crush on him that you let go of after convincing yourself it was one-sided. The other models would always fawn over how attractive he was but they were much too scared to approach him. “I heard he’s mean” they’d say but they couldn't have been more wrong about him.

Over time you came to find that Minho was a sweet, charming man who was unhinged in the best way once he had a few drinks in his system. That’s how he asked you to be his date. Sipping one too many cocktails at a party neither of you wanted to be at, he’d mentioned that he didn’t have a date. Maybe since you didn’t either the two of you could go together.

“As friends, of course” he emphasized.

Of course.  

Minho gently turns your head to look at him, careful not to ruin your makeup. “We really don’t have to do this. We can go get pizza or something.” “Go get pizza?” you laugh, sniffling a bit, “You wanna skip the most exclusive event of the year to get pizza?” Minho stares blankly at you, not understanding why that’s such a wild idea. “I mean, if it’s with you, why not?”

There’s a fluttering in your chest that you can’t control. The rekindling of something that can’t happen. “Ma’am,” the bodyguard says, gesturing for you to step outside. Minho leans forward shooting him a cutthroat glare that demands a few more seconds with you. “If you get nervous just look at me. I won’t leave your side. I’ve got you” he promises and, without question, you believe him. 

You’ve walked a thousand runways in 6 inch heels but those first few steps outside of the car make you feel like a baby deer, your heels teetering between gravel. Minho takes your hand again, keeping you glued to his side as you maneuver through the crowd. The atmosphere is electric. Photographers battle each other for the perfect photo.

A sea of assistants and styling teams buzz around their clients, terrified of losing them in the crowd. In front of you, Minho's manager goes back and forth with yours. A low, passive aggressive exchange that no one else notices besides the two of you. 

“I should’ve never let him pick her up. You’re late.”

“We were there on time. She was late coming out. This is on you.”

“On me? Bullshit!”

“I think they’re into each other. What do you think?” Minho whispers into your ear, making you crack your first smile of the night. You place a hand on his forearm, mulling it over. “Enemies to lovers vibes for sure.” A casually dressed woman approaches your managers, rattling information off to them for a second before you’re being herded towards the red carpet.

There’s no time to pace yourself. No time to breathe in for 7 and out for 8. You’re thrown in front of the cameras, effortlessly switching into model mode. You know how to sell a garment, striking poses that prove you were born to rock this dress. Minho’s no slouch, looking absolutely regal. His bone structure, a sight to behold from every angle, is particularly striking from where you stand.

He brings an arm around your waist, resting his hand on your side, “I’m really happy you came.” You feel a slight squeeze at your hip as your eyes meet and that fluttering in your chest sneaks back up on you. “Me too.”

 

Being invited to Paris Fashion Week is an honor in its own right. But being invited to an afterparty? That’s when you know you’ve made it. You’re in the inner circle now. One of the chosen few. A god in comparison to the mere ants who’ll scurry to worship you at the next event. At least that’s the way everyone acts and Hyunjin finds it nauseating.

He’s not one of them but he has to pretend to be. He has to smile and nod while people drone on about the most shallow, egocentric bullshit he’s ever heard. At least that’s what he usually does. Tonight he doesn’t have the energy to mask his irritation. How can he when you’re cozying up at the bar with Minho like he’s not even here?

Hyunjin’s gone out of his way to get you to see him, desperate for you to notice that he’d come alone, but you've been glued to Minho. You're in your element, radiating light, and it’s not fair that another man gets to bask in it. In you.

Is this why you’ve been ignoring his texts? Why every call has gone straight to voicemail? Blinded by rage, infinite possibilities racing through his mind, he’s charging across the room before he can think better of what he’s about to do. Spotting Hyunjin before he can reach you, Minho sneaks away from the bar to cut him off halfway.

“Hyunjin,” Minho grins, picking an invisible piece of lint from the younger man’s shoulder, “You weren’t about to do something stupid, were you?” Hyunjin slaps his hand away, in no mood for pleasantries. “If by 'stupid' you mean punching you then yes, I was.” Minho closes the distance between them, his face turning cold. “You wanna hit me? Do it.”

Hyunjin’s right hand tightens into a fist, the temptation to crack him in the jaw intensifying. Minho leans in, the tips of their noses nearly brushing. “Do it” he challenges, “Fight for her for once.” A group of designers walk by, one in particular has her eye on Hyunjin. Sensing that he’s being watched, he loosens his fist and takes a step back.

“Yeah,” Minho sighs, “Just like I thought. Your little threat was cute though.”

“Why are you doing this?” Hyunjin asks, packing all of the anguish of a scream into a whisper.

That question is an insult to Minho’s intelligence. As if he doesn’t know what he did. Hyunjin never would’ve known you existed if he hadn’t caught Minho scrolling your Instagram one night. Minho was lovestruck, falling for you more and more with each post he saw. Hyunjin’s hatred for him at this moment is nothing compared to what Minho felt when he found out the two of you were together. 

“Why am I doing this?” he snaps, “Because I love her and you…you only love that she loves you.” 

“Minho!” you sing, puncturing the steeled tension between them. You’d only turned away for a minute to chat up a friend. He couldn’t have gone too far. You scan the crowd, standing on the tips of your toes to find him. He reappears just as quietly as he vanished, making his way back to you. “Sorry, I had to…talk to someone.” There’s worry painted all over him. It’s in the crinkle of his brow and the clenching of his jaw. Something happened.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” you ask, stroking his jawline with your thumbs. He closes his eyes, your touch soothing enough to make him forget where he is. “It’s nothing. I’m just—you wanna get out of here?” Opening his eyes, he’s met with nothing but pure excitement. “Totally. You owe me pizza anyway!” 

“Which one is this again?” you ask, leaning in to get a better look at Minho’s phone. “Doongie,” he answers, swiping to the next picture of an equally adorable cat, “And this is Soonie and Dori.” You take a bite of what might be the best slice of pizza you’ve ever had in your life, your lips forming a pout. “Ugh, they're so cute. I must cuddle them.” “You can if you want to meet them one day. Maybe. I don’t know.” Minho shoves his hands in his pockets, turning his attention to the crescent moon that watches over you, "Moon's pretty, isn't it?"

Seeing through this transparent attempt at avoiding his feelings immediately tunes you into those you’ve tried to suppress since the night he asked you out. This time last week you weren’t even sure you could survive the red carpet, too afraid of seeing Hyunjin to even consider coming. But now, standing here on this bridge in the picturesque Parc Monceau with a man so kind, so considerate, you can’t imagine being anywhere else.

Minho put everything into making sure this night was perfect for you. He stuck by you the entire time like he promised, doing whatever he could to keep you happy. You’ve never felt more special and it’s not because of some exclusive party invite or some absurdly expensive outfit. It’s because of him. 

“I’d really like that…to hang out with them. And you.” 

“You want to see me again?”

“Duh, of course, I do.”

Minho visibly deflates, bracing himself to be let down, “Just as friends?” You know you shouldn’t say what you’re about to but your heart has beat your brain into submission and there’s nothing you can do about it. “Friendship? Is that all you want from me?” “No, I want…” he pauses to catch his breath, choosing these next few words carefully.

You’re the cutest thing, standing here with your heels in one hand and pizza crust in the other. And you’re the only thing he wants. “Fuck it” he mumbles, kissing you with every drop of passion he’s held back since you met. It’s the type of kiss so steeped in longing that you taste it each time the warmth of his tongue tangles with yours.

He brings his arms around you, locking them in place to keep you close. You drop everything, your body going limp as the kiss deepens. “I want you,” he confesses, “Always wanted you.” That crush you had on him never quite went away. It's been here all along and is back with a vengeance. You can’t lie to yourself. There’s no use pretending. Not with the way he has your body aching for him, every part of you crying out for his attention.

You want him too. 

Morning breaks and the birds are already perched at the open window, singing a song that stirs you from your sleep. You sit up in bed, taking in your surroundings. In the rays of dawn, Minho’s hotel room reminds you of something ripped from the pages of a fairytale. Everything has an iridescent sheen to it, almost as if someone’s cast a spell on it. Even Minho, still half asleep beside you, seems to be made of magic.

If you reach out to touch him would he disappear? And with him, everything you shared last night? Minho grabs your arm, drawing you back under the covers. You go without resistance, eager to be held by him. You lay your head on his chest, your fingers drawing figure eights on his skin. Minho presses his lips to your forehead, caressing your arm with the same care he’d so diligently treated the rest of your body to.

Your body is, of course, immaculate. A gift from some goddess he must’ve mistakenly appeased. To have made love to it time and time again, hearing his name spill from your lips in the hush of the night, is to have realized a fantasy he never thought would happen. But it’s this moment—your smile like honey as you poke your head up to glimpse at him—and every moment like it that he’ll hold closest to his heart when you’ve parted ways.

In Minho’s gaze, you find adoration but there’s much more to it than that. There’s infinite acceptance and with it a longing to know you inside and out so that no part of you feels unloved. Minho turns onto his side, easing down in to kiss you when—

Buzz! Buzz! Buzz! Your phone vibrates at the foot of the bed and your stomach sinks.

You swear you can feel your intestines twisting themselves into knots. Not again. “I’ll get it,” Minho insists, reaching up to grab your phone. “Uh…thanks” you stutter, taking it with shaky hands. Clicking the button on the side, you see a string of texts from your manager.

It’s happening again. You’re tempted not to read them. This has only just started. You can’t lose it already. But you have to know. Opening the thread, you’re confronted with your worst fear. 

Only, you aren’t…

The texts are business as usual. Flight cancellations, fittings for your next event, complaints about Minho’s “cute but annoying” manager. “Is everything okay?” Minho asks, yawning as he curls up next to you. You toss your phone aside, going back in for a kiss, “The best they’ve ever been.”

#stray kids x you #stray kids x reader #stray kids x female reader #stray kids x chubby reader #lee know x you #lee know x reader #hyunjin x you #hyunjin x reader #lee know angst #lee know fluff #hyunjin fluff #hyunjin angst #chubby reader #plus size reader

[fourmoony]

hii so i was thinking could you write smth with james getting flowers for the first time from reader? it would be soo cute

hi lovely! thanks for requesting.

james x reader fluff | 711

James' shoes are haphazardly abandoned beneath the coatrack when you push your way through the door.

You're holding two bags in each hand, the crinkling of them loud in your ears as you struggle to move through the door way. The coat rack wobbles when one of the bags catches a coat that's been thrown over the top and you let out an exasperated swear under your breath. James rounds the corner with curious eyes, already changed out of his work clothes despite having only been home for what you know to be twenty minutes. He looks cozy in his Christmas pyjamas, socks pulled up with the bottoms tucked into them.

He smiles bright when your eyes meet his and steps forwards to take two of the bags from your hands. You hand them over gratefully, smiling to yourself when his lips press to your head in greeting.

"Hi, lovey," He murmurs, pulling away to make for the kitchen.

You follow, hot on his heels, chasing the scent of his boyish body wash and the warmth of his heart. "Hi. How was your day?"

James sets his bags on the kitchen island and you follow suit, "It was good. Got lunch with Sirius. He sends his love."

"No Remus?" You ask as you fall into a practiced routine of putting away the shopping, together.

It's domesticity at it's finest and you love every minute of it. James has a way of making the smallest things mean the world. With him, things like changing bed sheets or folding laundry isn't so boring. Simply because he's there, soft voiced and willing to help.

He squeezes your hip as he passes, headed to put the milk in the fridge, "Nah, he's got a deadline to meet next week, probably won't crawl out of his hole until after."

You make a mental note to check in on him through the week, even just to tidy up around him while he works, make him a meal that has more nutritional value than a Tesco microwave meal or a kebab. "I hope he's feeling more inspired than last week. Marlene said he was staring at the wall for over an hour when she went round to drop off the shortbread Mary made."

James hums in agreement, rustling around in the second bag. Cellophane crackles and your boyfriend makes a questioning noise - "Lovey, why didn't you tell me your flowers were dying, I only bought them last week."

You turn from where you're trying to stuff a bag of oven chips into the overly stuffed freezer drawer, eyebrows drawn together because your flowers aren't dying so why is James saying that they are? His eyebrows are furrowed, too, and he's standing with a bunch of bright yellow sun flowers in his hand. You smile, "They're for you, silly. Not me."

As if it's the most obvious thing in the world.

It only makes James more confused. "Why?"

Well, for starters, they're big and beautiful, and remind you of a summer's day - same as James. Secondly, he'd said only last week that his mum had grown them in her garden when he was a young boy and he missed the sight dearly. You tell him this and watch as his big hazel eyes turn soft, the hand that isn't cradling the bunch of flowers reaching out for you.

You crowd his space, happy to be so close to him, all cozy and warm and smelling so handsome. The tops of his cheeks are pink and he's smiling so wide it makes your heart melt. He looks almost bashful.

"I've never had someone buy me flowers before." He says it so quietly you're not sure if you were even supposed to hear.

"Well," You press your lips to the underside of his jaw, "Now you have."

He smiles even wider, presses his lips to yours and you feel the familiar warmth spread through your body at his touch. His fingers brush along your waist line, eyes on his bright bunch of sun flowers.

"Thanks, baby."

His smile is sweet and sticky like honey, a familiar feeling in your chest, and all you want to do is kiss him again. So you do. He welcomes it.

"You're welcome, Jamie."

#marauders #james potter #sirius black #remus lupin #love #fluff #james potter imagine #james potter x reader #james potter fluff #james potter fic #james potter request #fourmoonys asks

[beyondthesefourwalls]

Wildflowers & Wine

Summary: He hadn’t seen you coming, but you entered his life like you had always been there, in a burnt orange dress and high heels and champagne sipped away from the rest of the world. Bradley fell in love with you that first night and now he can’t imagine his life without you. He couldn’t bring himself to care that it had only been four months. 

Notes: Can be read as an independent one shot. This is part of The Forgotten Moments collection that will explore Pumpkin and Bradley's relationship before and coinciding with the events of Remember You Even When I Don't.

Written for @roosterforme's #love is in the air tgm challenge. Sorry for being so late, Em!

Pairing: Bradley Bradshaw x Reader (no use of y/n so can be read as unnamed OC)

Warnings: Fluff, proposals

Song Inspiration: Wildflowers & Wine by Marcus King.

-------

His palms are sweating. He’s not really sure why, but the cellophane covering the bouquet of wildflowers he’s holding is dangerously close to slipping out of his hand.  It’s summertime in DC and it’s been raining today, and he tells himself that’s the reason for the sudden clamminess, even though not a single other part of him is having the same issue. He clenches his fingers a little tighter as he jogs up the steps to your fifth floor walk up.

The look you give him when you open the door is a playful kind of exasperation, already rolling your eyes. Like it has for the last four months, his heart skips a beat when he sees you.

God, you’re so beautiful. 

“I told you it was open!” you exclaim, moving aside to let him in. He doesn’t step past you, instead crowding you against the open blue door. 

“And I told you that you need to keep your door locked. You’re going to give me a heart attack one of these days.” 

You smile into the kiss he gives you, chasing after his lips when he pulls away for one more. He happily lets you; he would never pass up the opportunity to kiss you. 

“I knew you were almost here,” you explain away, speaking the words directly against his mouth.

“Doesn’t matter, lock your door,” he mutters, one hand coming up to cup the side of your neck as he lets you deepen the kiss. You smell like lavender and vanilla and he steps a little bit closer, his body flush with yours against the door. He hasn’t seen you for a few days and it was amazing how even just a minute in your presence already has him relaxing in a way he can’t achieve on his own. He pecks your lips once, twice, three more times before he pulls away completely, grinning broadly. 

“Hi,” you smile up at him, arms wrapped around his midsection. 

“Hi, Pumpkin,” he returns. He wonders if you can see the fondness in his eyes, if not written all over his face. He gets lost in your gaze for a moment, but the opening of another apartment door down the hall snaps the both of you out of it. He nudges you further into your apartment, closing and making an exaggerated show of locking your door. You huff out a laugh, and he thinks maybe that same fondness is looking back at him right now. The cellophane crinkles in his hand and he holds the bouquet that had fallen to his side during his greeting out to you. 

You take them with a happy hum, bringing them up to your nose to inhale the scent of the multi-colored flowers. “Thank you, baby.” 

You’re still in the dress you wore today and he enjoys how it flares around you when you spin to take them into the kitchen. He follows behind you, wanting to be closer, even if he could easily throw something from one side of the room to the other with little effort and perfect accuracy; DC real estate didn’t afford for much in the area of square footage. 

“I ordered pizza - it should be here soon,” you tell him as you dig around one of your cabinets for a vase. You fill it with water and inhale the flowers once more before depositing them into it. You’re looking at them like they’re the best gift you’ve ever gotten, but that’s just how you were - appreciative and grateful for things that most would consider little. It was one of the many things he loved about you. 

You ask him about his day and he answers you somewhat absentmindedly, caught up in just how beautiful you look. The evening light is casting a golden glow through the window and the colors reflect off your face, making you look almost ethereal, not that it was hard to achieve for you. You always left him a little bit breathless. 

You grab a bottle of wine from the countertop and tell him about the interview that you conducted that day. Your face is so expressive, your excitement and passion about what you’re talking about evident as you pour two glasses. He takes one of them from you, clinking the glass with yours before taking a sip. It was something he learned that very first night he met you, sitting out on the terrace as a wedding reception raged inside - you don’t drink until you cheers. It was quirky, but oh so very you, and he hadn’t broken the rule since. 

The pizza arrives and he joins you on the floor, your old, well worn coffee table serving as your table, your backs against the couch. You steal the jalapenos off his slice and he takes some of the pepperoni from yours in retaliation. You laugh together as you eat and it’s everything Bradley has ever wanted. It’s so simple, so domestic, but he swears every dinner with you is better than the last. There’s music playing from the cheap record player you recently got off Amazon in the background and he reassures you that it doesn’t sound bad, but the old school one his mom always played when he was growing up definitely sounded better. 

“I don’t remember seeing it in your apartment,” you comment, shifting so that your body is facing his, legs draped over his thighs.

“It’s not,” he shrugs, his hand rubbing up and down your calves. He takes a sip out of his glass. He had never really liked wine before, but it was growing on him, the more time he spent with you. “It would never fit. I have it in my storage unit, though. With the rest of their things.” 

“Ah. Maybe we can go get it one day. You can show me what a real record player sounds like.”  

You’re teasing him, he knows, but he also knows you would in a heartbeat if he were to ask. It was something he marveled at; you so willingly talked about plans, his life intertwined with yours, like you could see the future together as easily as he could. 

And he could. Genuinely and fully. 

He’s standing before he really realizes he’s doing it. He holds a hand out to you from where you’re still sitting on the floor. “Dance with me.” 

Your happy giggle at his random request fills the room, but you don’t hesitate to place your hand in his and let him pull you up and directly into his chest. You fit against him perfectly, soft and warm. You dance around the room for several songs, some more upbeat than others. He spins you out a few times, loving the way you laugh and how your dress flutters with the movement, and you give a small shriek when he dips you unexpectedly. He kisses you before you can complain, bringing you back straight. 

When the music slows down, you wrap your arms around his neck while he does the same around your waist. You sway slowly, not really moving from the one area of carpet you had ended up in. The old scratchy record croons in the background, and the song is almost over when you finally break the silence the two of you had fallen into. 

“You know, I think I may have a solution to your issue with me locking my door.” 

He raises an eyebrow, looking down at you in curiosity. “Oh yeah?” 

You hum in response, bringing a hand between you to fiddle with one of the buttons on his Hawaiian shirt. You had complimented this one a little more than the others and he was intentional with putting it on today. “I could just give you a key,” you shrug, trying to appear more nonchalant than what he could tell you were feeling. “Save you some trouble.” 

Bradley swallows thickly. He wasn’t surprised by the suggestion, not really; the two of you had joked about it before. What he was surprised at, though, was how small and almost insignificant the notion made him feel. Not because he isn’t grateful or doesn’t want it, but because he realizes with a sudden clarity that he wants so, so much more.  

He hadn’t seen you coming, but you entered his life like you had always been there, in a burnt orange dress and high heels and champagne sipped away from the rest of the world. The last few months with you had been the best of his life, with no close comparison. He knew how quickly it seemed to everyone else. But he meant it when he said he loved you on your first date and everytime after that, too. You make him feel things he has never felt before and that he knows he’ll never feel with anyone else. You make him feel deserving, worthy of love, something he had always struggled with. But it was easy to believe when you offered yours so freely to him. 

He fell in love with you that first night and now he can’t imagine his life without you. He wants to buy you flowers and drink cheap red wine or champagne and dance with you for no reason for the rest of his life, and he knows that a key to the apartment he already stayed in most nights wouldn’t be enough. 

His heart races and his palms feel clammy again, and he wonders if in the back of his mind, this was always going to happen tonight. 

“I have another idea,” he finally manages to get out. You had been patiently waiting for his response, still swaying back and forth in his arms. 

“What’s that?” you ask quietly.

“You could marry me,” he whispers. He tightens his hold on you when you gasp in surprise. Your lips part and your eyes widen, but you never stop moving with him. 

“Marry me,” he says again, more confidence seeping into him the longer you go without saying no. It’s crazy, he knows, but he doesn’t care. 

“I-Bradley. Are you..are you serious?” 

He nods, feeling the emotion start to well in his eyes. Yours are starting to glass over as well, but you’re starting to smile, too, and his heart skips a beat. 

“You’re crazy,” your voice breaks on the words, the same ones you had said after he told you he loved you at the end of your first date, before you said the words back to him a few hours later. He shrugs, not denying what you’re saying. He catches the tear that slips down your cheek.

“Marry me.” 

When he looks into your eyes, he sees all that he feels for you staring right back at him. And it takes a moment, your gaze never leaving his, but he knows the exact moment you decide. Those beautiful eyes light up and your arms tighten around his body and he’s smiling before you even say the word. 

“Yes,” you whisper. The small scream you let out when he picks you up dissolves into laughter as he spins you around in circles, right there in the fading light filling your small living room.  The scratchy record plays in the background as his lips find yours and he knows, he knows, all the way down to his bones and ingrained in every single part of his brain, that he’s going to love you for the rest of his life.

-------

masterlist

Notes: I hope you all enjoyed it! If you have anything you want to see for these two, feel free to drop me an ask or visit my inbox!

Tagging those who may be interested, apologies if I left anyone out: @roosterforme - @mak-32 - @greatszu - @gretagerwigsmuse -@notroosterbradshaw - @sometimesanalice - @teacupsandtopgun - @roosterbruiser - @je-suis-prest-rachel - @cowboybarbie - @alilstressyandlotdepressy - @rosiahills22 - @ghost-s-mask - @imnotcreativeenoughforthisblog - @bellaireland1981 - @justabigassnerd - @sarcasm-n-insomnia - @m00n-s-jinnis - @eli2447 - @ccbb2222 - @littlezee80 - @zalmael - @candid-confetti - @ijustwantedplums - @moondancediner - @shanimallina87 - @lt-spork - @wildxwidow - @thisiwhy-idontleavethehouse - @abovetheharddeck - @roosterscock - @jynxmirage - @too-fangirl-to-fuction - @indynerdgirl

#bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw imagine #bradley bradshaw x oc #bradley bradshaw #top gun fanfiction #tgm fanfiction #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #rooster fanfic #rooster x reader #Bradley bradshaw fic #alli writes #Bradley bradshaw x female reader #rooster imagine #bradley bradshaw angst #Bradley Bradshaw fanfiction #rooster bradshaw #Bradley Bradshaw x you #rooster x you #remember you even when i don’t #bradley bradshaw: forgetful boy #the forgotten moments #love is in the air tgm

[eoieopda]

menace (pjm) - series masterlist

Just because you hate him doesn't mean you can't fuck him.

Pairing: Park Jimin x Kim!Reader Rating: M | 18+ — MINORS DNI Type: Mini Series (6/6) Completed Word Count: 32K Summary: Far and away the worst of your brother’s friends, you added Park Jimin’s presence in your life to the long list of grievances you held against Seokjin. Too bad you can't keep your hands off him. CW: brother's best friend AU; fuck buddies who hate each other; queer, AFAB!reader; SMUT — see chapter-specific warnings.

⚠️ 18+ only ⚠️ minors and ageless blogs will be blocked, on sight. my content is not for you. i do not want to interact with you. please respect my boundaries.

pt. i — this isn't waterproof, is it?

smut | cw: mean!Jimin; brat!Reader; spanking and one (1) pussy slap; degradation; v fingering; orgasm denial; ✨ t e n s i o n ✨

pt. ii - smile, fucker!

smut | cw: brat-tamer!Jimin & brat!Reader; oral sex (m); manhandling; spanking; slight degradation & spit kink; unprotected sex (p in v); safe word in place (unused)

pt. iii - dissertation on dicks and daylight

smut | cw: oral sex for breakfast (f); fingering (v); squirting; and — worst of all — k*ss*ng; minor injury & mention of blood

pt. iv - cellophane

angst | cw: reader’s villain origin story; cameos by the remaining tannie boys; gratuitous Foresight reference

pt. v - beautiful mind

angst + a side of fluff | cw: chaos demon seokjin; sweaty jungkook; reader and jimin put the "idiots" in "idiots in love".

pt. vi - my funny valentine

smut + fluff | cw: SOFT HOURS ‼️ nipple play; fingering (v); unprotected sex (p in v); multiple orgasms; so much k*ss*ng.

#menace masterlist #re: menace #pjm #park jimin #jimin #park jimin smut #jimin smut #park jimin x reader #jimin x reader #bts #bts smut #jade writes

[deartouya]

i like you a latte | denki kaminari.

denki kaminari's determined to make you fall in love with him, cheesy one-liners and all, even if it takes months and puts him in debt. little does he know he's already won you over, you just like watching him fumble.

pairing: denki kaminari x gn!barista!reader

word count: 1.3k

content: reader has a job!, mentions of food/eating, lots of fluff, denki's cheesy but it's fine bc he's cute

hehe do you like my very clever pun ?? i think writing this made me realize i'm a little in love with denki </3 he's a charming dork idk. written as part of @cup-of-fluff's time to shine collab !! ty so much for hosting ^-^ this was soso much fun to write,, im sorry for being a whole month late ;—;

You’re beginning to think Chargebolt doesn’t have any friends. At least, you would if you hadn’t seen him sitting at their crowded table—Red Riot, Alien Queen, Deku, Ingenium, Cellophane, even Dynamight makes the occasional, disgruntled, appearance—his elbows planted in their sides and smiles splitting their faces. Or a poorly hidden grin in Dynamight’s case. But, you reason, he must not like them very much with how much of his time is spent alone in the cafe. Always in the same spot, the same order, with the same barista: you.

So, he has friends. He’s just decided to spend all his precious free time drinking over-priced lattes and eating equally expensive cheese Danishes. Sometimes he brings a binder, thick with unorganized papers and what looks like incredibly important reports, but he never even opens it—too busy monopolizing your company and stretching over the little cafe table to get your attention. 

You can’t really complain, though. He always attracts a crowd, even with an incredibly inconspicuous cap pulled over his eyes, which means more orders and more tips and more money. You also can’t deny that you’re just the tiniest bit amused with him, all with his cheesy smiles and jokes and flattery. 

Which, he’s not nearly as skilled at as the press pretends. Pro Hero Chargebolt, with his bolstering reputation as a flirt with—reportedly—never-ending charm never fails to come up with the most nauseatingly cheesy café puns. Puns which have, regrettably, endeared you to the Pro.

“Just admit it, you’re in love with him! Y’know it’s healthy, everyone is in love with at least one member of class 1a,” Izumi’s wrought with faux consolation, “it’s human nature, inevitable even. And most people don’t have them sitting in the front of their shop every week.”  

“I’m not in love with him,” you huff, sounding too much like a petulant child for your liking. Izumi’s tease isn’t new either, ever since Denki first showed up during one of your shared shifts, she's been insufferable. 

“That’s not what your eyes say—they get all hazy and lovesick when he’s ordering,” Izumi says, voice high and sing-songy as she finishes clearing the last table, “and I think your chargebolt keychain says otherwise too.” 

“You bought me that.” She doesn’t falter under your glare, though, smile only widening as she perches on the counter, chin cradled in her palms. “And you’re just hoping if he keeps coming around, he’ll bring Ingenium with him.” 

A forlorn look suddenly passes over Izumi’s face as she remembers the one and only time he visited, a time she wasn’t even working, “and alas, it’s only happened once.” 

“I’m not in love with him. He’s a good Pro Hero and I respect the work that he does.” She scoffs a laugh, earning a very pointed stare, “now, back to work—if you burn my muffins, I'm making you re-bake them.”

It ends the conversation—Izumi disappearing back into the kitchen, palms raised and facing you with a grin—but it settles deep and heavy in your mind. Her words repeat themselves to you throughout the day and into the next. You’d gotten used to Denki being there, to all his cheesy flirts and smiles. So used to them you’re not sure what a week would be like without them. Some selfish part of you hopes you never find out.

“They’ll work on you someday,” Denki catches your eye as you pass, the rest of the cafe quiet and empty. He’d been there since his morning patrol, entertaining the same blueberry muffin and attempting to fold his napkins into paper cranes. He was getting better at it despite the little stack of lopsided and half-formed birds.

He smiles, as bright as the dying sun streaming in through the cafe’s open windows. He watches you clear the table next to him, eyes trailing the slope of your nose and the subtle curve of your smile. His grin broadens when you scoff to hide your grin. 

“Don’t you have t-shirts and headshots to sign, hero?” You can’t help the way you chew at your lip, fighting off the warmth bubbling there. He’s right, it’ll work on you, it is working on you. His voice calling you brew-tiful haunts you everytime you make a chai latte. He’s sunny and determined and you can’t help the way you relish the whole of his attention being focused on you. “You’ve had three tables staring at you the entire hour you’ve been here.”

“I’m not trying to woo them, I’m trying to woo you,” it’s a simple sentence, but it's the way he says it that gets to you. Sure and just a little exasperated—like it’s obvious he’d rather watch you clear tables for the next hour than anything else. “Is it working?”

Denki’s grinning again—wider, brighter, and utterly charmed by himself—from where his cheek is squished into his fist and you can feel the way your pulse stutters. He’s charming, disarmingly so, bundled in some obscure graphic t-shirt and bright pink puffer, jeans marked up with lightning bolts you’re pretty were done by him, he’s pretty. Prettier than you’d ever admit to his face, you think his ego’s plenty big enough.

“Maybe,” your voice is drawn out and teasy, hiding any nerves as you move to clear the last few tables of cups and pastry platters, “maybe not.”

Denki’s face warms just a bit in the way it always does when you tease, cheeks splitting with the force of his grin as he—somehow—leans closer. He watches you disappear behind the counter, picking through what's left of the muffins and danishes to reemerge with a square of cake—bright and citrusy in a way which always reminds you of him.

“I’ll see you again tomorrow,” he fumbles with the words despite saying them every week, a stack of manilla folders and binders, the same ones he’d been using as an arm rest, decidedly not working, are stuffed under one arm. He smiles and you’re reminded of spring and the warmth of the sun on your face, “rain or shine.”

“I know. I can’t wait.” You return his grin, lifting the slice of cake, now nicely wrapped and ribboned, “for the road.” The road being his half a block walk back to his apartment, though you know he’ll probably still have the slice eaten before he gets there.

Denki’s fingers brush against yours as you hand off the box. A chill runs up your spine at the contact. His hands are always warm, he’s always warm and this close you can smell the familiar citrusy warmth of his cologne. The thought makes you want to hold his hands, wonder what they’d feel like laced with your own.

You shake the thought with a smile, ignoring the little hitch in your chest when he turns to leave, forcing yourself not to watch him and hoping he’d find your note once he got home.

The note, written neatly on a slip of construction paper a week ago, is tucked into the top of the box. You’d written it the day after Izumi had teased you, hiding it beneath the tip jar and hoping that you’d work up the courage to slip it to him. ‘ I like you a latte too, hero. just make sure to save some of those lines of yours for the date ;)  

xxx-xxx-xxxx 

You think he forgot how glass works, pausing in front of the shop's corner to pump a jittery fist, the one still clutching your napkin and number—full and happy. The sight startles a laugh out of you. Denki’s head whips up to find you—face flushed and beaming—and he makes a show of waving the notecard in his hand.

#bnha x reader #mha x reader #denki x reader #denki kaminari x reader #kaminari denki x reader #✶ writes #✶ writes.bnha #✶ writes.denki

[crimsonredfeathers]

~*~ Drabble ~*~

Sero Hanta x gn!Reader

Warnings: just fluff

Word count: 100

🖤🧡🖤🧡🖤

🖤🧡🖤🧡🖤

You were about to attack using your own quirk when your mobility was suddenly reduced to practically non-existent. Both of your arms were tightly pressed against your sides, legs bound together at your knees and ankles.

"I'm so sorry!" Hanta ran over to you, scratching the back of his neck in embarrassment, before ripping the tape into pieces to free you from it. "I guess I went a little overboard," he chuckled while peeling the rounds of the sticky material off of you.

You laughed. "You got so much better," you praised him, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead.

#mha fluff #bnha fluff #sero hanta fluff #cellophane fluff #mha x reader fluff #bnha x reader fluff #sero hanta x reader fluff #cellophane x reader fluff

[raz-writes-the-thing]

Missed (Broadchurch Drabble)

Alec Hardy x GN!Reader / requests are open and encouraged

Summary: Alec's been away for a while. It's safe to say he missed you

CW: fluff, you will need the dentists, mentions of murder

Broadchurch tag list: @clarina04 @kaylinelizabeth4004 @yeethaw13 (send an ask to be added to a tag list!)

___ ___ ___ ___ ___

“God, darlin’,” Alec says, wrapping you in perhaps the tightest hug you’ve ever felt and breathing in the smell of your hair. “I fuckin’ missed you so much.” 

You wrap your arms around his waist, pulling him impossibly closer. You can smell the flowers he’s bought you by your ear, the crinkle of the cellophane almost hurts your ear drums.

“I missed you too, my love,” you reply, deflating with the relief that comes from having him back in your arms after all this time. He’d been gone for a month. A whole month! He’d been called off on some investigation that just kept dragging on. He’d caught the killer in the end, though. He always does. “How was it?” 

“Fuckin’ miserable. So dreary. Even the people were dreary.” 

You laugh as he nuzzles his face into your neck as if to escape the memories. 

“I mean, someone was murdered in their small town, Alec, dear. That would tend to make people a bit miserable.” 

Alec grunts in response. You know he’s glad to be home. He could have come home earlier if he’d wanted to, but he wouldn’t do that. Not when there were cases to be solved and justice to be served. Alec was just like that- no rest until it’s all sorted. It’s one of the things you love most about him. 

“Alright,” you say, reluctantly pulling away from him and taking his hand. He hands you the flowers with the other and you sniff them. They’re stunning, as usual. You give him a happy kiss. “Oh- thank you so much! Alec, they’re beautiful!” You clutch them close to you and drink in the way Alec’s looking at you. So full of love. You’d never get used to him looking at you like that.

“Come on, let’s get you home, huh? I got you your favourite for dinner.” 

Alec squeezes your hand and gestures for you to take the lead. After all, you know where the car is. 

“Did you just?” Alec asks, looking more excited by the moment. “Y’always ken just what I need, don’t you?”

You give him a wink before sniffing the bouquet in your hand. 

“I sure do.”

#broadchurch s3 #broadchurch s2 #alec hardy x reader #alec hardy fanfic #alec hardy #broadchurch #david tennant #alec hardy fanfiction #alec hardy one shot #alec hardy imagine #alec hardy x you #alec hardy broadchurch #alec hardy fic #broadchurch fanfic #broadchurch alec hardy #broadchurch fanfiction #di alec hardy #alec hardy imagines #alec hardy drabble #alec hardy x reader insert #inside man #david tennant fanfiction #david tennant x reader #david tennant imagines #alec hardy x yn #alec hardy x gn!reader #alec hardy oneshot #bbc broadchurch #broadchurch show

[bp-zb1fics]

Tall & Handsome & wants birthday kisses

pairing: ricky x reader

genre: highschool au (same verse as shy, shy, shy), fluff, romantic tropes

tw/tags: longtime friends, birthdays, coming of age vibes, a lot of banter, feels, cuteness, vandalism of school property, gyuvin will be fine, violent thoughts that are mostly unserious, many kisses, rizzky

wc: 1128

summary: for ricky, the best birthdays are spent with you

a/n happy ricky day~ little late here but it's 520 somewhere ~

Read part 1 here~

“You know I’m going to miss you right?”

You’re 12. It’s Ricky’s last birthday with you before his family moves and puts oceans and time zones between your friendship.

“We have each other’s SNS,” he points out. “You already made me promise to send pictures when the plane lands. Don’t make it weird.”

“But I will,” you insist. “I’m just saying, you know, it’s going to be weird not seeing your ugly face all the time.”

“You’re ugly,” he retorts because puberty is starting to get to the both of you, making it awkward and strange in ways where only you can understand what the other is going through.

“I hope you stay ugly forever.”

“Take that back.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“Nope.” You have the audacity to make a face at him.

“Take it back.”

“Okay, tell me you’ll miss me too.”

“Ugh, you’re so annoying.”

“Say it or I won’t take it back and you’ll just be ug-”

“Okay, okay, fine.”

You look at him expectantly, arms crossed over your chest with the most infuriating expression that a 12 year old can muster on your face. He takes a deep breath, staring back at you.

“I’ll miss you.”

“Really? Is that it?”

“Did you ask me to say anything else? I said it.” Okay fair enough.

“Fine. I knew you’d miss me anyways.”

God, you’re annoying. It’s even more annoying when you give him your gift and it’s an amazingly huge sketchbook along with a pizza-themed birthday card where you’ve written too many words for him to even read in one sitting. And it’s the most annoying when Ricky gets off the plane and he’s in his new bedroom in his new house and he realises that-

-well, he actually really misses you too.

__________________________________________

“Happy 16th, Ricky-ah!”

It’s been four years since Ricky’s had a birthday with you beyond the greeting messages you’d send, maybe a short call if the timing is right.

It’s absolute chaos. (But that’s mostly Gyuvin and Junhyeon’s fault)

Somehow, they’ve managed to turn his desk into a- he didn’t even know what to call it. Black construction taped over the top, someone (definitely Gyuvin) managed to hang silver streamers right from the ceiling above and his chair completely covered in gold foil and shiny red cellophane in some sort of convoluted throne.

They also tried to surprise him when he walked into the classroom but jokes on them, Ricky learned how to hold a poker face and keep himself from flinching a long time ago. Probably from that time when you were 10 and made a game out of who could give each other the bigger scare. It was stupid. So stupid that Ricky decided to learn how to do that because you were so cute when you were frustrated.

Oh cute what? He’s pretty sure 10 year old Ricky didn’t have any reasoning like that.

He’s just letting you put that silly plastic crown on him because he’s nice and it’s been awhile and he doesn’t want you whining about it to him the whole day. Nevermind that the look he gives Gyuvin promises blood, murder and death if the other boy so much as said anything. 

(Gyuvin says something anyway, Ricky’s really going to punch him one day no he isn’t )

You even get him one of those little cakes from that convenience store and cafe near your school. It’s your lunch break and you’re leading the birthday song, sitting across from him, clapping your hands as Gyuvin, Junhyeon and even Gunwook decide to try and do their own harmonic rendition.

“Make a wish, Ricky-ah~”

Maybe Ricky’s definitely deaf from Junhyeon’s creative decision to belt the song out at maximum volume. Maybe his fist is twitching in an effort to resist the urge to sock the shit-eating grin off of Gyuvin’s face. But suddenly, all he can see is how your eyes shine, even if that’s probably from the light or the glow of the candle.

Ricky makes a wish and he realises that-

-well he might actually like you more than he thinks. (And by more than he thinks, yes, like more than friends).

__________________________________________

“So now will you tell me what birthday gift you want?”

Your boyfriend gives you that coy look which honestly, you don’t know how he’s capable of doing at your young age.

It’s been pretty great so far. You had birthday lunch with the dog mafia, their unofficially adopted children and a few other friends at Ricky’s favourite pizza place. And you’ll have dinner with his family later.

Right now, you’re at his house, lazing the afternoon away because Ricky had insisted on spending time together, just the two of you. Honestly, you’re pretty sure he was about one more side comment away from actually strangling Gyuvin if you hadn’t tugged him away.

“Remember when I turned 12 and you called me ugly?”

“Eh, all of a sudden?”

“You never took it back.”

The incredulity of your stare is very much felt by both of you. Dumbfounded, literally.

“What- are you- is this for real? You’re kidding me right?”

He takes your hands in his, pulling you towards him so you’re staring right at each other. You tilt your head back, seriously he needs to stop with the rizz.

“Take it back.”

“Seriously?”

“Take it back.”

“Okay, okay I'll take it back. God, anything else you want?”

He leans in, pressing his lips to yours. You jump a little, not exactly expecting that. And then you melt. He pulls back, leaving a hint of strawberry and the smell of his cologne.

“19.”

“What?”

“I want 19 of that for my birthday.” He’s managed to keep a completely straight face but you have eyes and the pink on his cheek and at the tip of his ears is definitely not a trick of the light. Well, two can play a game.

You lean forward, cup his face in between your palms and peck him on the nose a few times, giggling. 

One. Two. Three. Four.

You press light ones over each eyelid, propping yourself up to kiss his foreheads, littering small ones all over his cheeks. 

Five. Six. Seven. Eight. Nine. Ten. Eleven. Twelve. Thirteen. Four-

Maybe you lose count at some point, your lips lingering over his, soft and sweet. You playfully bite at his bottom lip before pulling back to look at him. He’s definitely trying not to smile too much.

“For the record, I never really thought you were ugly.”

“I know.” Your nose scrunches up and he kisses the corner of your mouth.

“You’re lucky it’s your birthday”

“Ah, so can I have 19 more?”

Honestly? He can have all the kisses he wants. Even on days that aren’t his birthday.

#boys planet #boys planet fics #boys planet x reader #boys planet mnet #boys planet 999 #boys planet drabbles #zb1 #kpop fics #zb1 imagines #zb1 x reader #zb1 scenarios #zb1 fics #boys planet ricky #zb1 ricky #kpop fanfic #kpop fluff #kpop imagines #kpop scenarios #shen ricky #shen quanrui #shen ricky x reader #side characters #kim gyuvin #dog mafia #happy ricky day #bp-zb1fics #birthday fic

[frenchkisstheabyss]

Master List Key: ✨ = fluff 🦇 = smut 🖤= angst

✶ Bang ✶

🦇 Hot Girl Mixtape: Bang Chan -boyfriend!bangchan x chubby!fem!reader 🦇🖤 Wanna Be Yours - bouncer!bang chan x stripper!chubby!fem!reader 🦇🖤 Before I'm Dead - vampire!bang chan x chubby!fem!reader ✨🖤🦇 Synestia - idol!bang chan! x curvy!fem!reader ✨🖤 Wild Horses - boyfriend! bang chan x reader ✨🦇 Black Sheep - boyfriend!bang chan x fem!reader

✶ Felix ✶

✨🦇 Little Dark Age - husband!felix x chubby!fem reader ✨ Loverboy - boyfriend!felix x chubby!fem!reader ✨🦇 Piece of My Heart - best friend!felix x chubby!fem!reader ✨ I Will Follow You Into The Dark - boyfriend!felix x fem!reader

✶ Hyunjin ✶

🦇 Hot Girl Mixtape: Hyunjin - boyfriend!hyunjin x chubby!fem!reader ✨🦇 Hyunjin Loving Your Body - boyfriend!hyunjin x curvy!fem!reader 🦇 All Rounder - boyfriend!hyunjin x thick!fem!reader 🦇 Venus in Cyprus - boyfriend!hyunjin x chubby!fem!reader 🦇 Like In A French Film - boyfriend!hyunjin x chubby!fem!reader 🦇 Surprise Me - boyfriend!hyunjin x fem!reader 🖤 Ultra One - vampire!hyunjin x chubby!vampire!reader

✶ Changbin ✶

🦇 Hot Girl Mixtape: Changbin - boyfriend!changbin x chubby!fem!reader ✨ I Want You - boyfriend!changbin x curvy!fem!reader

✶ Lee Know ✶

✨🖤 Peanut Butter & Tears - idol!boyfriend!minho! x fem!reader ✨🖤🦇 7 Psychopaths: Lee Know - assassin!lee know x assassin!chubby!fem!reader

✶ Han ✶

✨ Beside You - boyfriend!jisung x chubby!fem!reader

✶ Poly ✶

✨🦇 All the Pretty Boys - poly!minsung x chubby!fem!reader ✨🖤 Once More, With Feeling - poly!hyunlix x gn!reader ✨🖤 Cellophane - model!hyunjin x model!chubby!fem!reader, model!minho x model!chubby!fem!reader ✨🖤 Pendulum - model!hyunjin x model!chubby!fem!reader, model!minho x model!chubby!fem!reader ✨🖤 Bliss - model!hyunjin x model!chubby!fem!reader, model!minho x model!chubby!fem!reader

✶ OT8/HC ✶

✨ Emotional Intimacy w/ Stray Kids - ot8 x reader ✨🦇 OT8 Reacting to Stretch Mark Insecurity - ot8!skz x plus size!fem!reader ✨ OT8 Reacting to Belly Piercing - ot8!skz x curvy!fem!reader ✨ OT8 Giving Booty Slaps - ot8!skz x reader ✨ Being Poly w/ Stray Kids -ot8!boyfriend!skz x chubby!fem!reader ✨ Being Poly w/ Minsung - poly!minsung X chubby!reader ✨ Being Poly w/ Chansung - boyfriend!chan x chubby!reader x boyfriend!jisung ✨ OT8 React to You Wearing Baggy Clothes -boyfriend!ot8!skz x chubby!fem!reader ✨🦇 SKZ React to Finding Out About Your Genital Piercing - ot8!skz x fem!afab!reader 🦇 SKZ React to Your Piercing {Spicy Edition} - ot8!skz x fem!afab!reader ✨ Christmas Evel w/ Stray Kids - ot8!boyfriend!skz x chubby!fem!reader ✨ SKZ Members Who'd Love Sleeping On Your Belly - felix/3racha x reader ✨ SKZ Romanticizing Your Stretch Marks - jisung/chan/hyunjin/felix/changbin x reader ✨ SKZ React to Burning Christmas Dinner - ot8!skz x reader

[a-world-with0ut-dr34ms]

A Graves x Reader x Ghost Love Triangle

As Shadow Company’s second in command, you’ve seen firsthand the kind of man Graves could be, including the kind of man he wanted to be for you. It was a game you two unknowingly played, one that would surely not end well. A quick distraction meant to tame your busy souls. Warm bodies to lie with. Anything other than that was pure fantasy, though you two couldn’t help dreaming...

Future NSFW 18+, Future Angst, Pre-MW2 Events, Fluff, Flirting, Teasing, First Kiss, Romance, Drama, Build-up, Implied FWB, Make-Out Session, Shadow Company!Reader

WC ~ 2k

AO3 Link | Masterlist

A/N (2024): Made a few minor grammatical fixes and touched up some of the sentences that weren't making sense. Hopefully, this reads a lot stronger now! ^.~

A/N: I have never posted on Tumblr like this before; I’m a grade A lurker. But I’m obsessed with this for whatever reason, so now you’re being subjected to my writing. This is chapter one to a longer story that’ll be posted on AO3. Sorry if the characters feel OOC, I’m trying my best with what we got. Please enjoy! (T^T)>

Phillip Graves was as much of an enigma as the rest of the men in Shadow Company.

He could be many things when asked: Confident and self-assured, charismatic and dependable, disciplined and cutthroat, remorseless … as cold and calculated as a well-trained attack dog, or as warm and inviting as a long-time friend. All these personas existed within the commander, ready to be switched on in a single order. A chameleon, true to his craft. He’s grown accustomed to making himself whoever the world needed him to be. Anything that gets the job done.  

There was never any mistaking where Graves' thoughts lie, as more than often he'd just admit to them out loud. He accepts that others believe him to be an open book -- easy to read, with little complexity or depth beyond being a good soldier. Being lighthearted and obedient to the right people has worked wonders for him in the past, so he's mastered this façade and uses it well to his advantage. Proudly too.

But for a man so unafraid to be himself, Graves could be surprisingly secretive. 

As his second in command, you've seen firsthand the many personas your commander wore, including ones he's worn for you. Most of his tricks and plays you recognized by now, even as you've yet to understand them. Though as of late you’ve watched these many faces of his waver into something unfamiliar. They chip away slowly, each time you surrender yourself to his needs, taking your place beside him in the black of night, when no one's around to see. There, he's created a new façade, for your eyes only.

One that only made things complicated.

When you first began spending your nights together, it was more of a means to an end. It had been months since either of you had the pleasure of someone else's full attention, and lately, you were starting to notice. Shadow Company had grown more acclaimed and busy this past year, making dating pretty impossible. And after a while, anyone starts to look like a good lay if they're not ugly. Unfortunately, it didn't leave you with many options, until you'd caught the starved eye of your very own commander. 

You’d hardly been a part of Shadow Company for a month before you’d picked up on Graves' interest in you. He was surprisingly subtle with his flirting, if not predictable. It was the way his eyes lingered on you in quiet moments, his expression turned soft as his lips curved into a charming smile whenever you'd catch him. He could always spot you in a crowded room, always noticing when you were away for too long. He laughed just a little too hard at your jokes and always looked your way first after sharing one himself.

Before long, you found yourself beginning to watch him back. 

It was the little details you noticed first. The small cuts on his face from past firefights, how glossy and full of life his blue eyes looked in direct sunlight. Its rays would make a halo over his dirty blond hair, each strand looking clean enough to run your fingers through. He once caught you looking at him lick his lips, something he did often. When your eyes lifted from his mouth to see your superior officer looking dead at you, it shot a bolt of lightning through you. But you didn't look away, perhaps wanting him to see you looking. Taunting him.

Graves didn't say anything at first when he saw you ogling, but you knew he'd made a mental note of it just from the way he smirked afterward. "See something you like?"

"I see you, Commander," you'd said, hoping your glib nature would cover up the embarrassment you felt from getting caught. But Graves was like a shark in the water, and you'd just given him a taste of your blood.

"I see you too, Songbird." 

It seems all he needed was that clue that you were interested in him, because it wasn't soon after this when he decided to make his move.

You and the Commander had just finished prepping your mission brief for the other Shadow Company members. By now it was getting late in the night, as the building you two were in was a small facility only authorized personnel could enter. You occupied one of the empty rooms converted into an office space for all the pencil pushers to work out of. They’d all clocked out for the day though, leaving you two alone; and the tension in the air between you had just reached a boiling point.

You stood up from one of the tables in the room, preparing to slip into your coat and call it a night, until you watched the Commander approach you suddenly. You assumed he was getting ready to leave as well, until you noticed his come-hither nature.

“So, you got any plans tonight?”

And just like that, the game was on. You knew right away where this would go and it had your heart already skipping a beat. But you didn't want to jump to conclusions, nor did you want to rush this either. The thrill of the pursuit provided you with a nice little rush.

Wicked as you were, you began to smile.

“Why?” you ask. “Did you have something in mind?”

“I can think of a few things,” he said, behaving purposefully coy, in hopes of getting a rile out of you. He always did enjoy your banter and had no problem doing a little teasing himself when presented with the opportunity.

“Is that right?” you say flirtatiously. “Will I like those “things”, Commander?”

Graves smirks, raising an eyebrow at your comment. Hearing his title roll from your tongue so provocatively brought a sudden twinkle to his eyes. At this point, he didn’t need to guess where your mind was, which only made him more bold.

He chuckles under his breath, taking a few small steps closer, until he’s only an arm's length away. His next play.

He wasn't the tallest man you met but he still managed to tower over you by a few inches, the light from the room casting a shadow over him. This close you could smell the aftershave and cologne he’d used this morning, watching the way his eyes took in every detail of you, pupils dilating, black over-compassing the deep blue of his irises. He leans against the wall and unconsciously licks his lips again.

It was like a switch flipped in him.

“You will.”

You scoff, laughing under your breath at his boldness. You were wondering when he would be. Still, you wanted to poke at him a little more, see how long you could keep him waiting, if not to see if he was being for real. “Cocky as always.”

“Would you like me some other way then?”

You play on his words from earlier. “I can think of a few ways.”

“And what might those ways be, Songbird?”

"You're a smart boy," you hum. "I think you can figure them out. My lips are sealed, otherwise."

Graves steps even closer. He lifts a hand and pushes a stray strand of hair behind your ear. His touch is gentle and surprisingly warm, gliding against you like feathers, his fingers trailing across your jawline and resting beneath your chin. Goosebumps formed where he touched, and you could tell from the doe-eyed look he had that it was doing something to him too, seeing you like this. He takes his hand beneath your chin and lifts your head, forcing you to lock eyes.

"And if I order you to say them?"

His voice was now much lower than before. Sultry. You could feel it in the air he was ready to come in closer, simply waiting for an opportunity to do so that felt right.

Butterflies shot through you like a thick swarm; you didn’t want to let on that his words had you like putty in his hands, though you feared your little lip quiver may have given it away. You instead look down at his lips again, your gaze sullied. You began thinking of all the ways you could close this space between you two and put an end to the tension. The thrill of it all had your adrenaline spiking in all the right ways, simply waiting to see where things go from this point. "Then I won’t listen," you purr.

"Insubordination is rather punishable," he said.

"So is fraternization."

"I can keep a secret." Graves brought his thumb to your lip, lightly running it across, as his eyes lowered to your mouth. He nearly says in a whisper, "Tell me what you’re thinking."

"Let me show you."

His lips slowly come down to yours, kissing you gently. When you pressed your lips back against his, he exhaled pleasurably, tongue grazing your bottom lip. He moves his hand from your chin and curls it to the back of your neck, holding you in place and continuing to tease you with short, velvety pecks. His lips danced against yours with the skill of a seasoned player, clearly experienced in his craft, but it wasn’t until he felt your hands glide against his hips and tug him closer that his kisses grew insatiable. 

His grip on the back of your neck tightened, lips pressing harder against yours, feverishly. When the sudden aggression brings a low moan from you, it only makes him push harder, his other hand grabbing the small of your back and roughly pressing himself against you.

His weight causes you to shift backward until he has your back pressed against a wall. Unknowingly, your arm bumps against a nearby filing cabinet on the way there, knocking over a few papers that now littered the floor. Mere background noise to Graves, who only continues, his arms planted on other sides of the wall around you, as his lips trailed down your neck. His kisses reach your collarbone, the sensitive sensation causing you to gasp out a moan. “Graves!”

Hearing his name be moaned out sends him on a personal mission to hear you say it more. He takes his hands and slowly runs them down your body, feeling every bit of you he can through your uniform, before resting them on your thighs. In one swift motion, he then lifts you, taking your legs and straddling them around his waist, as he keeps your back against the wall. He presses himself to you and breathes heavily, rejoining his mouth with yours.

By now you could feel him through his pants, and you pushed yourself against him in response, the grinding motion bringing quiet moans from both of you. That’s when you two suddenly hear footsteps.

At the drop of a hat, you two freeze, going completely silent. The footsteps come from outside the room -- someone walking by in the hallway. A janitor maybe? God forbid it was anyone in the company. You held your breaths for only about a minute, listening to the steps pass by the room until you couldn’t hear them any longer.

The two of you let out a shared sigh, before looking back at one another. Graves had you still pinned to the wall, your legs tucked in his arms. He can’t help but chuckle. 

“This probably ain’t the best place for this, darlin'," he spoke. "As much as I want to keep going."

“I don’t know,” you joke. “I like the vibe. It’s very risqué.”

Graves smiles at you. And then, he pauses for a moment. Suddenly his eyes can’t seem to pick a spot he wants to look at on your face. You see something in him change, gears turning in his mind. Thinking of what he might say to you now. Hiding away his vulnerabilities. It makes your own mind begin to ponder.

“See something you like?” you ask him.

“I see you.”

Graves leaned in and kissed you another time, softly. Like you’d been lovers your whole lives. That’s when you realized how truly dangerous your commander could be; for a minute there, you started daydreaming about what tomorrow could bring you both. You wanted to fall for his pretty words. But then you remembered where you were, and who you were with.

This was a game. A mutual distraction. As things stand, thinking that this could be anything else beyond a good lay was purely a fantasy. You almost just lost yourself in it.

And so it goes.

"Your place or mine?”

...Chapter Two Here!

#call of duty #phillip graves #modern warfare #modern warfare ii #mw #mw2 #mwii #call of duty modern warfare ii #phillip graves x reader #graves x reader #Spotify #modern warfare 3 #mondern warfare iii #re post #Control #call of duty modern warfare #cod mwii #cod mwiii #shadow company #mw2 graves

[legends-of-apex]

Gashes To Gashes | Robbie Reyes x Reader

Rating: T (for non-sexual intimacy, undressing, mentions of injury, tooth rotting fluff, mild spoilers for AoS S4)

Word count: 1.7k

Summary: Robbie comes home one night and finds you already asleep on the couch. He decides he can’t sleep without you and takes matters into his own hands. Reader is gender neutral, no use of y/n

A/N: I miss him so much okay 🤧 I know there’s not a big audience for him or anything but someone’s gotta feed the few that are here! Enjoy <3

When he found you sleeping on the couch, the clothes you were wearing that morning still draped over your form and crumpled, he knew you’d had a bad day. Usually you’d be changed into pyjamas or one of his shirts by now. Although it was well past midnight, you were usually still very much awake when he came through the front door. But here you were, fast asleep on the couch in your daytime clothes. It was an adorable sight.

Two empty plates cluttered the coffee table in front of you. He knew there would be a cellophane-covered plate for him sitting on the kitchen table too if he cared to look. But he couldn’t have cared less about food right now.

Robbie hadn’t been home yet that day. Instead he heeded the Rider’s demands and went out on the hunt from the moment he finished work. He shrugged off his jacket and hung it on the hook by the door next to yours and Gabe’s. As the jacket slipped from his tired shoulders, the stress of the day did too.

Now, finally, he was home.

In the darkness, he relied on the deeply embedded memory of the house's layout to stop himself from bumping into anything. So many night sneaking out from beneath his uncle’s nose as a teen had prepared him for this. He knew each floorboard that creaked, each piece of furniture he might stub his toe on. All of this too avoid rousing you or his little brother from slumber.

He risked waking Gabe just to make sure he was alright. He twisted the bedroom door handle and let it open just a crack, there he saw his baby brother content and sleeping soundly. Golden street light streamed through the blinds and illuminated his soft face and the floppy hair that rustled in the breeze of his sleeping breath. His wheelchair sat at the bedside, piled high with school books he must’ve cleared from his bed in a rush of sudden drowsiness. Content, he closed the door behind him with a soft click and then turned his attention back to you.

He was glad you hadn’t waited up. He didn’t want you losing sleep over him. But the position and clothes you were in had to be uncomfortable. You’d definitely wake up cold and with a sore neck if he just left you there draped over the couch cushions. That’s what he told himself to justify gathering you into his arms and carrying you through to bed. In reality, he just couldn’t sleep without you - without knowing you were there beside him and safe.

Your very presence was a comfort and an anchor to him and he knew he’d miss you too much to sleep, even if you were just in the next room. He would never forget just how cold the sheets felt after the first night you’d spent there in his bed all wrapped up in his arms. It wasn’t just the company of another that he adored but also the way you snuggled into him like a stray cat to a rug beneath a roaring fire. Your soft touches were fresh air to him. The next night he spent alone, his bed suddenly felt too big, too empty and so painfully cold. Since then, he’s never been able to sleep well without you and despised the thought of even having to try.

“Robbie?” You croaked, feeling that distinct, unmistakable warmth radiating from him and seeping into your skin. “You okay?”

You stirred just as he pushed the bedroom door open - awakened by the hinge’s unoiled creak. After bringing a curled fist to rub your eyes, it was impossible to distinguish his features in the darkness but you knew him by his demeanour and touch alone. No one else you’d ever met smelled so distinctly like ash and motor oil or moved like he carried the weight of a thousand struggles on his back. No one else felt like home the way that Robbie did to you.

“Yeah, baby, I’m alright… better now I’m with you. Are you alright?” He answered softly with a press of his lips to your forehead followed by the gentle scrape of the hair on his upper lip. When you made a sound of disgruntlement at his question, he faltered, “Long day?”

“Longest I’ve had in a while. Can’t believe I fell asleep before you got home.” Usually your worry kept you up more than anything else. No matter how many times he came home in one piece you always worried.

“Lemme kiss it better then we’ll get you back to sleep, huh?” He set you down on the mattress and you yawned as soon as your back knew the plush mattress below.

You hummed. “I should probably get out of these clothes first.”

“I can help with that.”

He started with your shirt. Each undone plastic button exposed a fresh inch of your skin to the cool night air as he went. He let his eyes close as his warm lips pressed against your bare shoulder, the base of your neck, then the centre of your chest. His lips were void of all except appreciation and care. You laughed quietly as he undressed you so gently. Usually Robbie shimmying off your trousers meant an entirely different ordeal to this. But tonight he was just trying to get you comfortable enough to be able to rest with him.

He barely bothered kicking off his own trousers before getting into bed, much more concerned with wrapping his hoodie around your shoulders when he felt your slight shiver. He lay down beside you and in the dark you reached for him immediately, to feel his warm skin on yours. His arm wound around your waist then curled up your back to press you close to him. You found his cheek and he leaned into that precious, treasured touch. Being home with your hands on him after a night letting the Rider take over was the best medicine he could ever ask for. He thought it was more than he deserved.

“Mmhmm. I missed you.” You threw your arms around his shoulders and hugged his head close to your chest.

“I missed you too.” He replied, enjoying your embrace for a moment. You tried to enjoy it too but as you swiped your thumb over his cheek you felt the unmistakable raised and bumpy ridge of a gash entrenched into his skin.

“What’s this?” You questioned.

“It’s nothing, baby. Let’s just get you back to sleep.” His hand covered yours, turning your palm to press a single chaste kiss to it.

He needed so desperately to calm your worries but he should’ve known that wouldn’t work. Tiredness radiated off him in droves; It thickened his voice and weighed down his limbs. He just wanted to let the mattress swallow him whole, to rest here with you forever, but you had to know he was alright.

“Robbie…” your voice held a tinge of warning.

He sighed, knowing you wouldn’t let it slide and he couldn’t blame you for that. If you came home with so much as a scratch on you he’d want names and addresses - and that was even before he was possessed by a spirit of vengeance. His stomach knotted at the memory of Quake only a few hours ago. How she’d all but begged him to kill her but the Rider didn’t seem to think she deserved to pay her penance just yet. “Some powered chick was snooping around Canello’s looking for the charger. We had a uh…disagreement, and she punched me in the face.”

You broke out of his grasp and flicked the bedside lamp on to get a better look. Harsh light flooded the room and you both winced at the sudden brightness but the irritation at the bright light was soon replaced with worry. “She did that? With one punch?” You asked, examining his battered cheek.

It was just a small gash with some bruising surrounding it. Nothing to worry about, really. But the fact that it had yet to heal was strange and more than a little concerning. Robbie bleeds just like anybody else but the blood he came home covered in wasn’t ever usually his own thanks to how quickly the demon heals him. That woman must’ve packed one hell of a punch. It was nothing like you’d ever seen him recovering from before. You had yet to see a scratch on him that wouldn’t fade within an hour until now.

“Yeah, she was strong. But vida, you should go back to sleep. It’s late. You don’t ever gotta worry about me.” He's whispering so as not to startle you any more, thumb running over your chin as he looks up at you with his deep, endless brown eyes that almost pleaded with you to believe him.

"I always worry about you,” you replied honestly. Because of course you did, how couldn’t you? He might have been invulnerable by any reasonable standard but you dreaded the day he encountered something that the Rider couldn’t heal. “Are you sure you don’t need anything?"

Robbie swallowed thickly and shook his head before telling you something that almost made your eyes water.

"Nah. Just you."

All he wanted was you here in his arms and in his bed. With the softness and desperation in his eyes, you believed him. You flicked off the bedside lamp and settled back down in his arms. He thumbed your hip and tugged you closer with a touch so soft for such well-worked hands. You all but melted into him, into his chest, into the faint smell of burn and blood, and the comfort that he brought.

You let your hand rest on his chest as you often did. It was a sweet habit of yours, one which Robbie loved. But tonight things were a little different. You slid your hand down the soft burgundy cotton of his shirt before letting your fingers dive beneath the hem and graze just above his belly button. Your palm splayed out, rising with each slow breath he took. He wasn’t sure what comfort you derived from touching him like that but the touch grounded him, brought him back to Earth again from wherever he was floating that night, untethered. He needed your skin on his as tree roots needed soil and sunlight. That touch made him feel human again, like maybe the weight he carried wasn’t so heavy after all.

Robbie Reyes tag list:

@icy-spicy

I’ve lost the rest of the tag list for him yall I’m so sorry 😭 Please let me know if you’d like to be added!!

#robbie reyes #robbie reyes x reader #ghost rider #ghost rider x reader #AoS #agents of shield #marvel #fic #fluff #mywriting #mine

[adminbryantsaki]

Paprika

Sero Hanta X Reader.

Day 1

How to say good morning.

(I do not own Sero Hanta. Horikoshi Kohei does . Any of the students are aged up to college age/adults. This story belongs to my 2023 Spice-tober collection. I hope you enjoy. If this story isn’t your cup of tea, blend of spices, or brew of coffee move on. Reader discretion is advised.)

TW: Mostly fluff, mornings.

WC: 492

 You were fast asleep until the loud beeping of your alarm disturbed you slumber. You smacked the snooze button and rolled over and woke up a little to see your boyfriend sit up and stretch. You crawled over and propped yourself up to wrap your arms around him as the warm autumn sun glowed through the blinds of the window.

“Good morning, Y/n. I bet your still sleepy, how about I make you your coffee and ring it to you? Hm?” He asked you and moved his arm so he could hold you close. You had to be careful of the tape dispensers on his elbows because they had special ridges to cut the tape that he created from them.  Your boyfriend was a Cellophane: The Taping Hero. You reached up to kiss him gently before he went to make your coffee. He kissed you back and stood from the bed and walked out of the bedroom. You rolled back into your spot on the bed and got cozy back under the covers.

A few minutes later, Sero came back into the bedroom holding a mug with hot coffee in it and he placed it on your nightstand. He bent over to pull the blanket back and kiss your head.

“Sweetheart, coffee is here. I made your favorite.” He spoke and you opened an eye to him and he chuckled. You sat up, still cozy in the blanket, and took the mug from the nightstand and began to drink the warm, energizing beverage as Sero went to shower, change into his uniform, and get ready for work.

After you drank your coffee, you emerged from the safety of the blanket and started your day.

You were getting dressed when Sero exited the bathroom and walked over to you, giving you a hug from behind.

“Why don’t we stay home and cuddle in bed?” You asked.

“I have the world to keep safe and you have your job as well to do.” He told you and kissed your neck.

“Ugh, fine.” You spoke exasperated.

“I have an idea. You get back under the covers and get cozy for a little longer while I make us my famous egg and bacon sandwiches?” He offered. You hummed and agreed to the idea. He kissed your cheek and left you to go start on breakfast. You went back under your covers and got cozy while you waited for food.

Man, you loved waking up like this.

The end.

#bnha #admin writes #mha #spice-tober 2023 #sero hanta #sero x reader #sero hanta x reader #hanta x reader #hanta sero #cellophane #sero #kinktober 2023