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flowercrowngods · 1 year

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based on this post, because at this point i think it's safe to say @unclewaynemunson is actually my muse or something (hi anna i hope this is okay even though it’s, like, way angsty and way too long huh)

🤍 also on ao3

Two days after Starcourt, concussed and beaten, Steve has a seizure.

His ears are still ringing when the doctor gives him a stern glance over the rim of his glasses and pronounces him unfit to drive. No, in fact, he claims Steve poses a real danger to himself and others if he sat behind a wheel again.

Immediately, Dustin and Robin jump to promising that they won't let him do that, and in another life Steve is sure he would be grateful, or at least reasonable about it, but in this one he has a horrible second where the floor falls out from under him and he wishes, for just one second, that his head had been shaken a bit more, just enough to–

It makes him nauseous even thinking that. Everything does, lately. He closes his eyes against the offensive brightness of the hospital room and lets the sound of Dustin's and Robin's voices wash over him as he takes a moment to really take in what the doctor's orders entail.

He can't drive anymore. No more late night drives to watch the street lights pass and lull him into a safer state of mind than his bedroom walls could. No more driving the kids to their DnD sessions, no more taking Robin anywhere at the drop of a hat, no more bickering, no more reign over the music, no more stern glances through the rearview mirror, no more "Shut up, Wheeler, or you're leaving the car."

No more "Thanks, Steve!", no more "I'll bring some of mom's cookies if you drive us to the arcade", no more "You're the best" or "You're a lifesaver" or "I owe you one".

No more place for him in the group, no more use for him, no more...

No more. Nothing. Now he's just Steve, would-be lifesaver, 'has-been babysitter', 'could-have-been somebody until he lost his license to drive because he wasn't quick enough, wasn't good enough, wasn't strong enough'. Just Steve.

He doesn't know how to be that. Who is Steve Harrington without his car, without the one thing he was good for anymore?

The pit in his chest is deep enough, dark enough to pull him in, and for a moment the very thing he is good for is misery.

He waits until a nurse makes everyone leave for the night, and then he cries. It makes his head hurt, pressure building behind his eyes, but he's used to being in more pain than any teenager should be in, so he curls in on himself and hides underneath the blanket.

Here's to hoping the others won't notice just how useless he is now. Not too soon, anyway. He wants another month. A painless month filled with laughter and hugs, and then they're free to leave, to pull back slowly. Calls unanswered, radio channels changed so he won't reach them, sheepish apologies and rain checks, because now Nancy will drive them. Or Jonathan. Hell, maybe Max will take the risk just to avoid him.

---

He gets a week of daily visits in the hospital, the doctors and nurses insisting on keeping him here, a watchful eye on his vitals, scanning his head three times during his stay, insisting he has head trauma of a severely worrying degree.

Nancy picks him up from the hospital and it's awkward, tense, too much left unsaid between them but there's no one else to do it. Steve's hands are shaking, gripping the seatbelt the whole way home – and then his heart falls when he sees his Beemer in the driveway. The glorious, trusty, wonderful, best fucking car anyone could wish for. His baby. His.

He throw up into the brushes when he realises that he won't get to take it on one last ride. Maybe he shouldn't be so attached to a car. Maybe he's being pathetic about it. At least he can explain away the fat tears in his eyes now, and Nancy doesn't press.

The first thing he does when Nancy is gone is calling Robin, and she's excited when she says, "I'll come right over!" and Steve wants to ask, how, but he keeps his mouth shut, biting his lip. It's stupid, but the thought of someone else driving Robin over makes his skin crawl.

"Alright," he says instead, his voice raspy, and he hangs up before she can detect something in his voice.

After that, he goes outside again and runs his hand along his Beemer. It's shining in the sun; he had it cleaned the other week, the full program, every step in the book to celebrate four years since he got her.

"Four years, huh," Steve says, his nail catching on a minor scratch that isn't even visible but might be more familiar to him than even his home. "Damn good four years."

He's talking to his car. God, it's so stupid, it's so stupid, it's so stupid–

Steve's knees give out and he gives in to the desire that's burning under his skin sometimes, the desire to just sit down and ignore the world. Because everything is less real when you're sitting down somewhere you're not meant to be, and the ground is warm, and Steve just wants the world to go. His head is leaning back against the warm metal of the driver's door, and he closes his eyes for a while, his head still spinning, his ears still ringing, everything still awful.

After a while, there’s a shadow followed by a weight settling down between him, a head landing on his shoulder, a hand taking his.

"I'm so sorry, Stevie," Robin says. The lack of dingus makes it more real, somehow. More tragic. More pathetic.

"I'll live." And it feels a bit like a lie.

---

He gets his month. A month filled with barbecues in his backyard, the kids coming by after school to check on him, and Robin has practically moved in. Joyce picks him up on Friday nights for dinner at their house for a change of scenery.

It’s a good month, though Steve feels trapped. Caged. A bird without his wings, a boy without his car. Steve without his one purpose, the one thing he was good for. He has to be picked up because they don’t trust him walking, or they have to come to his place. And soon the worried glances that are thrown his way are too much, caging him further, reminding him of what this is. A pity party — quite literally. No one trusts him anymore, there’s always someone jumping to help him, not caring or listening to his protests.

And he can’t leave, because “What if you have a seizure in your room?”

It makes him want to scream.

Maybe it shows, or maybe everyone’s just fed up with him now that he can’t provide his taxi services anymore, but after summer the Byers dinners stop and the kids pull away.

“Told you that’s all I’m good for,” Steve says with a mean, pained huff as he hangs up the phone. Claudia said Dustin isn’t home, but he could hear the kids in the background. It hurts more than it should.

“What is?” Robin asks from her place on the floor with her back against the wall.

“Nothing.”

She frowns. “Come on, dingus, you can’t start and then—“

“No, I mean it. Nothing. That’s what I’m good for now that I can’t drive them anymore.”

“Bullshit!” she says, and it comes out so harsh that it makes Steve flinch. He swallows. Right. Robin isn’t hear to listen to him whine about how he feels like he has no place in this town, in this group, in this life anymore now that his head is so fucked up he can’t even be trusted to live alone.

That’s why Robin is here, right?

The babysitter becomes the babysitted… or something.

She doesn’t care, not really. She doesn’t listen. She doesn’t ask.

“Steve, they’re kids.”

“Yeah, well. So am I.”

He turns away from her and ignores the tears threatening to fall. The door to his room falls shut and he would love to lock it just to make a point to the world at large, a point that it can’t shut him out if he shuts himself in, but he knows it’s too risky. If he has a seizure, Robin needs to get in.

He can’t even stay in his room alone without supervision anymore. What kind of a fuck-up is he becoming, where does it end? He’s already managed to chase away the kids, even Dustin only checks on him sporadically anymore, and it hurts. He wants to know why, wants to know what he did, how to take it back, how to get them back.

But then he remembers how it all started. Dustin needed a ride and someone to take a beating. Both of which he can’t do anymore without risking life and death of himself and others. He’s a safety hazard. He’s useless. He’s Steve fucking Harrington, which doesn’t mean anything anymore.

---

And then it’s spring, and Chrissy Cunningham is found dead in Eddie Munson’s trailer. The group is back together again, the Party assembled once more. And Steve, for a just one second, hopes that he can get it right this time, that he can do this again. One last time. Because Vecna slash Henry slash One surely is it.

But then they turn on him — even Eddie looks confused, which is a rather adorable look on him — the moment Steve tries to get a word in.

“You’re not coming with us, Steve.” That’s Dustin, and Steve just rolls his eyes, but then Robin joins in.

“Yeah, no, I’m with the gremlin on this, dingus.”

“Hey!”

“Oh shut it, Henderson.” She turns to him, her eyes softer but no less burning another hole inside Steve. “We can’t risk it, Steve.”

“Risk what?” It’s a challenge. His shoulders squared, his jaw clenched, he’s challenging her, and it’s cruel.

She holds his eyes, her expression icy, like he’s stupid. “We can’t risk you dying. We can’t risk you getting a seizure mid-fight or just by being in the Upside Down.”

“Hey, woah,” Eddie tries to get a word in, but Steve won’t hear him as the desperation, the loneliness, the feeling of being caged like a bird and still the only human left on a desolate planet, all that breaks free.

“We all know that dying in a fight is the only thing I’m good for anyway.”

The silence among their war council, as Max dubbed it, is deafening.

“What?” Lucas sounds small when he asks that, and Steve closes his eyes. He hadn’t meant for him to hear that. Any of them, actually. They weren’t supposed to know.

“Steve, that’s not true.” Dustin’s words are filled with disbelief and worry, and Steve hates the worry, it makes his skin crawl, it makes his heart race, it makes his fists clenched and it makes him want to scream again.

“What else then, huh?” he asks weakly. “What else is there? None of you even talk to me anymore since Starcourt. Since summer.”

“Because you were pulling away,” Nancy explains, though her words are weak and her mouth clicks shut when Steve looks at her.

“Because we’re scared.” Max this time, and Steve doesn’t want to look at her, doesn’t want to tell a child that she’s not allowed to be scared for him— not more than he is, anyway. It doesn’t make sense for him to be hurt. They don’t want him to die. That’s a good thing, right? They didn’t want to see him hurt, so they looked away. It makes sense.

But it also hurts.

Steve shakes his head and pinches the bridge of his nose before all but running from the trailer. He doesn’t make it far (“Stay close so we won’t have to worry”), just needs some fresh air and to sit down somewhere the world will become a bit less real again.

The stairs it is. He tries to breathe through the lump in his throat, clenching and unclenching his hands to get rid of the anger and the hurt and all that excess energy.

He doesn’t want to die, is the thing. The very thought makes him nauseous and panicky. He wants his life back. His car. The freedom to just jump in there and get away. He doesn’t want the cage or the worry or the hovering or the loneliness when he isolates himself from all that.

Face buried in his hands, Steve almost misses it when someone comes to sit beside him. The thick smell of leather and cigarettes tells him who it is without looking up.

Eddie doesn’t speak for a while, just sits with him as Steve calms down.

And then, after a while, he lights a cigarette and asks, “You get seizures, Harrington?”

Steve nods. “Sometimes.”

Eddie hums. “That sucks.”

He nods again, and then that’s that. But even though it was a rhetorical question and Eddie didn’t even need an answer, it feels pathetically good to be asked about something. About himself. It only makes the pit inside his chest deeper, cutting into his soul with a sharp edge, this tiny little moment of normalcy. He wants to cling to it. He wants to talk to Eddie. God, he hasn’t really talked to anyone in so long.

“Before Starcourt — remember, the mall? The fire? Yeah that was, uhm. More monster shit. And Russians who thought I was a spy and then… yeah. Anyway. Uh. We used to be friends, I think. The kids and I. They used to care — or I like to think that they did. And then I got one too many head injuries, and the seizures started, and then they… It became too much. For them, for me. And the caring stopped. And, like, it’s fine or whatever, but I still care, and I can’t let them do all that alone. I know that all I was good for was taking them somewhere with my car, but I can’t drive anymore, so now I’m just… I’m just Steve. No titles attached, no use or function or point.”

Eddie just stares at him, puzzled and intrigued and even a little sad, and Steve wants to laugh it off when the silence stretches.

“Sorry, that’s kind of a sob story, you—“

“Wait here,” Eddie says, stubbing out his cigarette before disappearing back into the trailer. Steve watches him with a confused frown but stays put. A minute later, the door flies open and a scandalised looking Max appears, followed by the rest of the crew.

“You what?!”

“Uh,” Steve blinks. “I what?”

“Eddie told us you think you’re useless and that we don’t like you and that all you were ever good for is driving us from A to B with, like, no personal value whatsoever,” Dustin fills in, sounding no less bewildered. “Is that true, Steve?”

And God, the kid is so good at making all his questions sound like dares that Steve instinctively wants to swallow and negate it, tell them that Eddie misheard, that he’s fine, that everything fine.

But then Robin’s whispered little, “Steve” stops him from doing that. In fact, the sadness and confusion on their faces makes the dams break once more, confronted with months of spiralling and no one to drag him out, no one to listen.

Tears spring to his eyes and he gets up from the stairs to properly face them. He shrugs. It’s as much of a confirmation as anything.

And then Dustin sprints forward and tackle-hugs him, burying his face in Steve’s chest with no intention to let go anytime soon.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbles into Steve’s shirt and Steve runs a hand through his hair immediately.

“It’s okay, Dustin.”

“No! It’s fucking not okay, Steve, stop saying that. You’re my big brother, you’re my best friend, you’re my hero! You’re the coolest guy I know and nothing’s gonna change that, okay?”

“Then why’d you leave?” His voice is so small, but Dustin only hugs him tighter.

“Because you were hurting and I was… I feel like all of that is my fault.”

“Why would it be your fault, Dustin?”

He shrugs, and it breaks Steve’s heart. Dustin thinks everything is his fault just like Steve thinks it’s his.

“It’s me who got you into the thing with the Russians. I insisted. And you were tortured for it, Steve! You… You told us to go, and we did, and then we came back and you were— you-“

“Hey,” Steve whispers, curling himself around and over Dustin. “Hey, no, it’s okay. It’s not your fault. None of that.”

“Okay.”

“I’m sorry I pulled away, Steve,” Dustin sniffles and looks up at him. “I swear it’s not because I think you’re useless. It’s just… I’m so scared.”

And it makes sense, somehow. The anger leaves Steve when he whispers, “Me too. And I don’t like it when you’re all scared and worried. I hate it.”

“I know. Sorry.”

“No, you’re not.”

“Shut up.”

And then they’re both laughing with tears in their eyes. Lucas and Max join them with their own promises that Steve isn’t worthless to them.

“Did you read my letter? You know, the one if…”

“No,” Steve says. “You told me not to.”

“Right. Anyway, read it. Whatever happens, I want you to read it. Because you’re my brother and you mean too much for me to, like, never let you know. But, uh. Billy died. And I hated him, but it fucked me up. And then you almost died, and then you almost died again; and then you just… collapsed. And I thought, I cant do this again, not with someone I actually like. Not with you. And I didn’t wanna watch. I watched Billy. I… I can’t watch you die, Steve.”

She’s crying by the end of it, and Steve pulls her against his chest. Shit, he hadn’t meant to make anyone cry like that.

“It’s okay, Max, I get it.”

“Not okay,” she shakes her head again. “I know it’s not. But—“

“I know.” He’s stroking through her hair. “I know.”

“Uh, guys? I hate to break up the heartfelt confession time,” Eddie chimes in. “But I think our window is closing.”

Right. The end of the world.

With one last squeeze to Max’s shoulders, he lets her go and they gather their things. Discussions about Steve’s joining their mission have been put on hold while their window is still open. They can continue this later.

Nancy drives while Max holds Steve’s hand in the back. They don’t talk and she has her headphones on, letting Kate Bush work her magic, but it’s fine. It feels a bit like healing.

He catches Eddie’s eyes on the other side and holds them for a while. Eddie smiles before looking away, and Steve does the same.

---

In the end, Steve doesn't climb the rope with them. He stays behind in Eddie's trailer even though every fibre of his being screams at him to join. But Nancy has a point when she explains to him that she and Robin got this. It's the first time he stays behind, and he hopes it will be the last.

They hug him before leaving, all of them. Promises are made to talk about this later, after, and he nods.

"Go save the world for me," he tells Robin, holding her tight, unwilling to let go.

"Only for you," she promises, and kisses his cheek before pulling away. "You better be right here when we come back."

He shrugs and gives her an encouraging smile. "I've got nowhere else to be, Buckley. Now go." The last words are whispered and it feels like goodbye. Steve should join them, he should be there! But his head is pulsing and he knows that one wrong move could leave him half blind with a migraine, and they don't need one more handicap.

The one thing he can do, though, is helping them climb the rope, and it makes him feel ridiculously proud, seeing them land safely on the other side, smiling up (or down?) at him. Robin and Nancy wave one last time before heading off.

That leaves him alone with Eddie and Dustin. The latter is already climbing the rope, itching to finally do something, preparing the trailer for their plan.

Only Eddie is left, and Steve looks over at him.

"Will you be okay, Steve?"

"Sure."

Eddie sighs and looks up at the gate, disbelief and resignation and even a hint of fascination in his eyes.

"It should be you," he says, and Steve frowns, confused. "You're the hero here."

"No," Steve huffs, smiling at the metalhead. "No, I'm no hero. The real heroes are already up there, and in California. The real hero died after Starcourt. I'm just the driver who lost his license, the boy with the bat. The protector who needs to be protected."

Eddie looks at him again, that kind of intense stare, the one that shows Steve that Eddie sees something in him. He wonders what it is, but isn't sure he wants to know.

"I think you're wrong, Steve." He says it with such gentle conviction that it takes Steve's breath away for a second, and something passes between them as they hold each other's eyes.

Eddie opens his mouth to say something, but then–

"Eddie!" Dustin is calling for him from the other side, and the boys snap out of their daze.

Steve steps into Eddie's personal space and pulls him to his chest. "Make him pay," he says. "But stay safe. Come back, okay? First sign of danger, you abort mission. Come back, Eddie. I'll be right here."

"Yeah," Eddie rasps, and he squeezes Steve once more. "Catch me when I fall through that gate in two hours?"

Steve laughs, a sad little thing, and he pushes Eddie away from him, hands steady on his shoulders. "Sure, big boy."

"Hey, that's my part."

"Say it when you come back, then."

This thing passes between them again, and then Eddie goes to climb the rope. Steve's hands find their way to his hips, steadying him, but Eddie is strong enough to pull himself up without problem. Huh.

"In the meantime, wrap your head around the fact that you're the one I'm coming back for, pretty boy."

And then Eddie is gone. Steve watches as he falls through the gate, landing on the mattress with more elegance this time, and then he, too, grins down (or up?) at Steve.

He gives a little wave, and then he is alone.

Plenty of room to think when your friends have gone on a suicide mission and you're the one who has to stay behind. The one who will have to do the explaining when things go south. The one who will have to watch and listen, helpless.

It makes him regret the past few months, the self isolation, all the times he pulled back, all the times he didn't push for an explanation or a conversation, all the times he hadn't asked the kids if they're alright because he was too caught up in all the ways that he wasn't.

God, he wants them to be okay. He wants to talk about this, wants them to tell him he's more than the driver without a license, more than the protector who needs protecting. He wants Eddie to come back and explain what he meant, say what he wanted to say. He wants...

He wants his old life back. But more than that, he wants them in his new life just as much. He wants to be brave enough for this new life and find a new purpose. Create one if he can't find it.

But he can't do it alone. He refuses to do it alone even one day more.

"Come back to me," he whispers, looking up at the gate from where he's sitting on the floor, back against the wall. "Come on guys, you've got this. Please work. Please, make the plan work."

And then, miraculously, it does. Eddie falls into his arms with an undignified squeal and the rest of the Party soon follow. They're unscathed, miraculously, and Steve cries as he holds them, all of them, in a group hug that makes the trailer smell like relief and grief and a new life ahead of them. Slowly, with an unnatural sound, the gate above them closes, and then silence reigns.

They cling to him now. Refuse to let go. Good thing he has nowhere to go as Lucas gasps and sobs into his chest, explaining what happened, that Jason almost destroyed the walkman, that Max could have died. And Steve runs shaky hands through his hair, pulling in Max, too, so the three of them can just hold each other for a second.

Dustin and Eddie are hugging beside them, and Nancy and Robin hold hands, a different kind of horror in their eyes, but they smile wetly at Steve as their eyes meet.

It's over. It's done.

They did it. They really did it.

Steve closes his eyes and holds Lucas and Max tighter. They don't complain.

---

Three days later, Steve's house is brimming with life again like it hasn't in months. Turns out, Hopper survived, and he hugged Steve for a whole five minutes, telling him he did good, he did great, he's a hero. Again with that shit that Steve doesn't believe, but he doesn't have the heart to tell Hop, so he just buries deeper into their embrace.

"It's good you're alive," he tells him, and the Chief sobs out a laugh.

"You too, kid. This town would be lost without you."

"Yeah, right," Steve laughs back, and then that is that.

Except, it isn't, because when he returns to the living room with Hop, Joyce and El in tow, everyone's standing, looking at him with timid expressions. Robin and Eddie are holding hands this time, and so are all the kids. They all look like they have something to say, and the only thing missing is a large banner that says INTERVENTION.

"Uh, what's going on?"

Dustin is the first to clear his throat, but only after Erica kicks him. "We wanted to apologise. For leaving you when you needed us the most."

Oh. Steve's shaking his head, placating words already on the tip of his tongue, ready to explain to them how that's not their fault, how that was all him, he could have said something, he could have asked, he could have–

"Steve," Nancy says, effectively cutting off any protest he could have voiced. "Just listen, okay? Don't say anything."

He looks at Joyce, who nods, and Hopper who looks about as lost as he feels.

Dustin continues then. "You deserved better, Steve, you really, really did. We all did, I think, but you... You put yourself in harm's way from the get-go."

"Yeah, you came to protect me when you didn't even like me." Jonathan this time. "No thoughts, just protection. I owe my life to you. Every single one in this room does, y'know."

"And what you got for it is severe head trauma and... us abandoning you." Nancy.

"You're not just the driver, Steve. You never were just a driver to us." Hell, even Mike is in on this? "You're annoying, you suck, and you don't even try not to act like you're everyone's big brother."

"You're family, Steve." Oh, baby Byers. That's what gets his eyes stinging and his lip trembling, so he bites down on it so they won't have to see. It's futile with the way they're smiling.

"Yeah. You're so much more than our babysitter," Lucas explains. "You're the best basketball coach."

"You actually listen to my music and read comics with me," Max continues with a smile. "You suck just a little less than everyone else in this town."

"Hey!"

"No, she has a point."

Steve's not keeping up with the who's who anymore, he's trying too hard to keep it together.

"You teach me new words," El says, smiling. "You give me your clothes, you take me shopping, you teach me how to deal with meanies."

And the list goes on. Everyone has something to say to him, something beyond the ways he can be useful. Something that he is to them, something meaningful, something that sounds a lot like purpose and family.

"And we were so scared, because you were hurt. Because of us. You were protecting us, and look where it got you. You're a hero, Steve. As real as they get, you are one."

"More than Wonder Woman," Max agrees. "More than Superman. You're Steve! And that's... He’s our hero."

"He’s our brother," Dustin says.

"He’s my son," Joyce adds, taking his hand.

"He’s our friend," Erica, Mike and El say in unison.

“He’s the one we stay for.” Robin’s eyes shine as she smiles.

“And the one we come back for.” Eddie’s smile is gentle, confident, and captivating. Steve can’t look away, even through his own tears.

---

In the following months, Robin gets her license and Eddie develops a sixth sense for whenever Steve needs to just sit in a car and ride around town, watching the street lamps pass and letting them lull him to sleep. There’s an upside to being a passenger, he finds, because he falls asleep like this a few times, always waking when Eddie kills the engine. He drives for hours sometimes, admitting with a blush high on his cheeks that he didn’t want to wake Steve.

Somewhere on the highway to Indianapolis, between three and four in the morning, Steve looks at Eddie in the soft glow of the night, and finds that he’s fallen in love.

And in the weeks and months and years that follow, he realises that that’s something new he’s good at.

#stranger things #steve & the party #steddie #steddie fic #but also not really. steddie is just something that happens along the way #this was meant to be short but uh. uh. whoops?#hi anna i am sorry feel free to ignore this i could have made this easier in everyone but they’re teenagers with trauma dammit #dio words #actually i just wanted an excuse to make steve sad. if you know me you know

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ririblogsss · 19 days

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Ok so I've read that OCD, can be a by product of trauma.

So what if Danny doesn't relize he is deeply traumatized by the events that happened in his early childhood. By that I mean with all the weapons and chemicals spills around his house and of course his untimely death.

He noticed that his home has no order whatsoever and that's what made it dangerous to live in. He only found comfort in his own room because it was the only space the could truly control, and make sure it was safe.

He started associating organization and cleanliness with safety and security. He has underling fear of coming into contact with contaminants, and that it will bring his whole world to collapse if he does indeed come into contact with one.

So lets say that a revel gone wrong, and Dannys put into foster care and then handed into the Wayne family.

At this point the Bats know that Danny used to be phantom, because lets be real they would immediately figure it out. Yet Danny has no clue they are the bats. He just believes they are a really big family with too much money to know what to do with it.

So Danny someone who has no clue he has OCD but presents most if not all the characteristics.

For instance:

Danny subbing the same spot on the rug for hours trying to get rid of it. Because in his mind if that spot stays bad things will happen.

On another instance he is seen organizing and reorganizing his shelf on a very specified order and continuously going back until he is satisfied.

When he goes to eat he always asks if the food was washed and cleaned properly multiple times.

He always counts if all his cleaning supplies he keeps are there in the morning.

He has a very strict schedule in which he doesn't break and refuses to break, especially his cleaning schedule.

Now the Bats are completely aware of this, and instead of making feel bad about it they help him and reassure him every time.

Examples:

Danny found that in the living room the rug was too dirty, because of the constant influx of people bringing in dirt with them. Of course Alfred always cleans it, but Danny needs to make sure himself. So one of the siblings would help him clean the rug his way, as Danny does it in a very specific way.

Another example is when Danny started cleaning during a movie night because of all the popcorn that was dropped on the floor. The rest just stopped the movie and helped him clean the area, and then resumed the movie careful not to spill more popcorn.

At one point the family was concerned because Danny was moving into a more dangerous zone of the compulsions, such as scrubbing his hands raw because he accidentally touch something 'dirty' without his special gloves.

So they made Bruce ask him if he wanted to go to a therapist and possibly a psychiatrist for his OCD. And Danny just said he didn't have OCD he just wanted things to be clean and organized like everyone else.

in the end he was convinced to go to a therapist so he could learn to manage living with OCD, but he was endlessly happy that he had people to fall back to that didn't judge him, and instead helped him out.

note:

(I just want to say that I don't have OCD myself but a lot of my family members do have it, and ive seen how it affects their daily lives. And I wanted to bring to light that people can't control their obsessions/compulsions but they can learn to manage it so they can live calmer with less anxiety. So I hope I made it as realistic as possible and didn't sound stereotypical or offensive)

#dpxdc #dp x dc #dp x dc crossover

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dc418writes · 1 month

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🧚🏻‍♀️✨Bippity boppity bow chicka wow oww! You’ve been visited by the Shameless Hoe Fairy, and now you must share a hoe drabble about:

Ari + pinned down + “Fuck, sweetheart, I love it when you whine so pretty for me.”

*incomprehensible screeching* ok ok calm down self no pressure 👀 lol but thank you Siri for this prompt! And all who read I hope you like what I came up with☺️!

Mine

✨Pairing✨: ex!Ari Levinsonxblack!reader

Summary🪄: As luck would have it, your ex is there to save you from a creep. Some coincidence right?

🚨: 18+ NO MINORS, soft/dark-dark elements, mention of sexual harassment, violence (man-man), unprotected adult happy funny times (please be safe everyone!), fingering, breeding kink, mention of alcohol, a couple bad language words

Your once pleasant buzz has since been replaced by a dull headache as you sit in the middle of your ex’s king sized bed. One of his shirts - smelling a mix of his cologne and detergent - covering your freshly washed body after the small bar brawl left the front of your top and skirt soaked with beer.

Every few minutes your mind wanders back to that moment where the “kind” and charming stranger showed his true colors. His touches becoming unwanted while trapping you against the bar and ignoring your protests. If it wasn’t for Ari, quickly yanking the hazel-eyed man away from you before his fist was soon meeting his cheek, you’re sure you’d be stuck somewhere and missing for God knows how long.

Maybe even worse.

A light knock on the door has a small smile curling on your lips seeing Ari in the doorway. His muscular body nearly taking up the entire space standing in his black sweats and some worn looking band tee.

“Hey, you feel alright?,” he asks and you nod. “Need anything?”

“No, just tired.”

“Get some rest. I’ll be out here if you need me.”

You didn’t want him out there though. In your current state - emotionally vulnerable and unable to get the events out of your mind - you wanted him next to you. To not be alone for tonight at least.

“C-Can you stay? Please?,” you call after him halting any further movement out of the doorway. With that tilted smile you still loved, he was soon removing his shirt and joining you under his sheets.

“Of course sweetheart.”

His thick arm wrapped around your middle with your back against his front, it was like old times how instantly safe and comfortable you felt. How you fit together so well, it was as if you’d never even broken up in the first place. And when his nose bumps behind your ear barely touching one of your special spots, that familiar flip returns to your stomach as well.

“Goodnight.”

“Night Ari,” you whisper, but you already know sleep is a far off concept from your highly active brain still focused on the bar. Trying to force you into reliving every detail as if helping you study for your own exam.

So many minutes pass of just feeling the air from Ari’s nostrils against your neck and hearing cars run by that you’ve accepted you probably won’t be sleeping tonight.

“That pretty head’s going a mile a minute again huh?,” he asks slightly startling you thinking he was asleep this whole time.

“You can tell?” He nods and you can feel the gentle scratching of his beard on your skin.

“Your pulse is a bit high; not to mention your body’s tense. Not as relaxed as I know you wanna be.”

He was always so intuitive with you. Knowing how you were feeling or if you were off without you having to even say a word. It was honestly scary sometimes how he was there with what you needed before it could cross your own mind.

“Why am I not surprised? Spot on as always,” you softly chuckle.

“Because I know you sweetheart,” he replies placing a chaste kiss to that sweet spot behind your ear. “Know all about this body. What goes on in your mind.”

His voice in your ear as his hand slowly drifts from under you and down your abdomen to the front of your thigh has you beginning to squirm. An ache quickly forming between your legs you want him to erase.

His fingertips trace a slow circle just centimeters from that junction as his lips create their own steady path down the column of your neck to your shoulder. It’s a tortuous buildup you wish he didn’t enjoy so much.

“Let’s get you to sleep, yea?”

“Please,” you shamefully beg anticipating his touch where you needed most.

And he doesn’t disappoint placing your leg over his so you were spread wide for him. His middle finger immediately dipping in your needy core and dragging just right you couldn’t stop the moan that tumbled from your lips.

“Still so tight after all this time. We can work around that though can’t we?”

By the time he was done - having readied you with two orgasms - you were already in a mindless haze only capable of babbling incoherent noises, “please”, and Ari’s name.

Exactly how he wanted you as he pushed your thighs up against your chest keeping them in place with his wide upper half while his hands pinned yours over your head. You were now completely at his use as he slowly began to push into you with a low groan and silent curses how you gripped him so tight.

“Ari please,” you whined. Head lulling to the side to lie on your arm. “Need you.”

“Fuck, sweetheart, I love when you whine so pretty for me,” he finishes with a gasp finally pushing to the hilt. For your sake, he tries to start slow, but the feel of you clinching around him and all the sweet noises you’re making, it doesn’t take long for that rhythm to quicken. The squeaking of the bed and the sound of skin slapping soon taking over your moans and panting.

“Mm don’t stop!”

He moans nipping at your bottom lip. “I’m the only one that can take care of you. Knows all your spots that make you dumb. Isn’t that right?”

Ari takes your whine as a yes, smirking as his mouth finds yours in a heated and numbing kiss.

“Because you’re mine sweetheart.” His pace quickens and you shriek as your release squirts to the sheets below. It only spurs him more moaning as he feels his own release approaching. “Always have been, shit, always will be.”

You want to whine and push him away with your new sensitivity and puffy folds that feel raw, but that blissed out cloud just keeps lifting you higher and higher that you don’t want to come down.

“And everyone’s gonna know it too seeing you with our little baby bump. Gonna be the best mama to our babies.” The thought of you carrying a mini version of the both of you pushes him over the edge moaning his release as you have one last one of your own feeling him fill you up with deep ruts wanting it to stick as deep as it could go.

Finally meeting that blissful high with you, a tired chuckle leaves his lips as he kisses all along your sweaty face. You’re pleasantly knocked out - mouth slightly parted - as he carefully lifts up so your legs can be stretched out again. Although soft, he doesn’t pull out; instead staying buried deep so none of him can escape.

Plus having you wrapped around him so snug, occasionally pulsing and clinching, it’s better than any blanket he could ever buy.

“Now, if only you weren’t so stubborn, I wouldn’t have had to go through all this,” he whispers before leaving one last peck on your temple.

HiredHelp: I said only one punch! (sent 12:29 am)

HiredHelp: That’s an extra 2K (sent 12:30 am)

HiredHelp: 5K in my account by tomorrow or we meet again very soon (sent 12:30 am)

So for those who’ve read my works over the years, this is definitely a bit of new territory for me (soft/dark-dark and smut) so hopefully it’s not cringe🫣. Thank you @stargazingfangirl18 for this prompt and for allowing me to play☺️! Also sorry if this is longer than a standard drabble lol

#ari levinson #ari levinson x black!reader #ari levinson x reader #chris evans x woc!reader #ari levinson au #red sea diving resort #chris evans #chris evans x black reader #chris evans x reader

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blueberrypancakesworld · 2 months

Text

Hazbin Hotel Men - Take care of you

warning : fluff, hurt/comfort, crying, no use of Y/n, fem reader

Characters : Alastor , Angel Dust, Husk , Sir Pentious, Vox , Valentino

Info : So it is here my first work for the hazbin hotel fandom and I'm very excited. I'm in it again after watching years ago the pilot, the first few episodes of hb and the great/amazing music video adict. So have fun everyone and enjoy it ;)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Alastor : A smile always graces his lips and even if you're not used to it, he's quite disturbed when his loved one doesn't smile too. They've been through a lot together, but when he walks through the corridors of the hotel from his broadcasting studio and finds his darling sad, even crying, the static goes out of his voice for a moment. He will always worry about his darling, the only one in his dark, twisted heart. ,,Darling, what's wrong...who should I make scream?" he asked, his claw-like fingers resting on your hands, the strange charged static running through you strange yet familiar. Almost judging and somehow tickling. He would listen quietly to what was on his darling's mind and let a soft song play over his wand, the song that had played when he got the letter. Your letter of admiration in such a cruel place as hell the radio demon had marveled at. ,,Or I'll just stay with you mhhh a little show?" he asked, gently wiping the tears from your cheek with his fingers before pulling his sweet tone from the bed and flicking the room into a reddish dance hall. The radio waves turned to a song and he gently guided his darling around the room, brushing away her tears with each turn, reminding her of the things they had together. The time they had together, the things they had done for each other. His special affection, his gratitude and his love that belonged only to her. ,,You know I'm always with you darling, no matter what," he reminded his heart before leaving a gentle kiss on the back of her hand as the music faded.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Angel Dust : Angel Dust knew best what it meant when it came to money. He had lived it hell he was in that vicious circle and knew what it was like to be exploited for money almost every night. But in all this fire and poison he had found his own drug, so to speak. The one that had helped him when he was down, when he needed a break, when he couldn't sleep after night after night. She had sacrificed herself, Val had practically thrown herself at the throat, had taken it upon herself to become the number two in the business, something "enough" as Valentino called it. But Angel knew better than anyone that something like this didn't just pass you by. Which is why, with a warm tea in his hands, the spider heard the quiet knock on the door before he heard the ,,Come in." He didn't have to look to know that the runny makeup was from tears and other things. ,,Hey princess, come here," he murmured, putting the tea on the side table before slowly putting his hands around her. Never firm enough that she couldn't resist, always calm enough to show her that he didn't want what the others in the store wanted. The words flowed slowly over her lips and even though they both knew there was no point in talking about it, it felt good. It eased the pain and Angel was able to wipe away her tears before he gave her the tea. Because if there was one thing he had learned, it was that a cup of tea could work wonders in a few minutes and make you feel warm and safe. ,,I promise this will all end soon," he murmured, letting his beauty lay her head on his chest and he smiled gently as he saw the trembling of her body lessen with his calm heartbeat. At least they would both have something like hope for a while...a moment of calm and peace in the vicious circle.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Husk : The clinking of glasses was something that could always be heard at the bar, either when the former overlord was sorting, washing or serving the glasses. The bottles made about the same sound but darker. But something still filled his bar: sniffling and sobbing. The sadness of his favorite, lucky clover, sitting at the bar with his head buried in his hands. He had just blown away to take another order because everyone else was already off to Satan's place. The beating of his wings could be heard as he hurriedly came over to her. He didn't need to look at the sad face, ,,I know you've given everything we all know that" he said and reached for the right drink he knew her favorite order was the one she had brought him back when he was lucky. He handed her the drink and slowly and gently took her hands from her face before she took the drink with a slight look of gratitude. He nodded in acknowledgment as he saw them both just sitting there for a moment, he slowly wrapped his sweat around her waist and pulled her a little closer, placing a wing on her shoulder. Knew the feathers were something she wanted. Because he was right, she let her fingers wander over the pattern. She finally gave in and told him about her yet another failed attempt to get money and power for the hotel, maybe even a few free ones, but nothing had worked. Instead, only the usual cursing and swearing...as the cave was true. Without happiness and kindness. ,,But our happiness and togetherness will last forever," he said and handed her one of his golden dice before the two of them rolled it over the wood of the ceiling. But in fact, when Husk pressed a gentle kiss on her cheek, both dice landed as doubles. They knew that together they had the best luck they could have as a couple.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sir Pentiuos : The airship's engine was loud, but the serpent demon was able to distinguish between the sound of an engine, the cracking of eggs and the sobs of its first officers. Turning away from the steering wheel, hoping that a cherry-scented bomb would not be thrown through the windshield, he made his way into the interior of his airship. ,,My beauty? Are you in here?" he asked as he looked into the individual rooms of the ship before he heard her from the craft room, where she was mostly developing her weapons. Weapons that had often led them both to victory, but this time it didn't work out. it was the third time in the last week that they had been caught by the bombs. He saw her sitting on one of the tables with another broken weapon in her hands, a mistake she took to heart. ,,Ohh darling please don't I'm here come here" he whispered and his forked snake tongue wetted her cheek lightly as he pulled her into an embrace. The kiss on her cheek made her smile as she saw that the serpentine demon was a little pink in the cheeks himself. His cuteness that he mostly didn't know about always cheered her up, he would always manage somehow. His snake tail curled around her body and his slightly scaly skin felt warm when she put her fingers on it. He knew his scales soothed her and his words dug into her like the bite of a snake. He slowly put her weapon aside and cuddled her again, encouraging her. ,,Shall I fetch the eggs? A big party, my dear, maybe a party," he suggested with a smile and shortly afterwards he lifted her into his arms before the two of them went to the little ones. The family sat down together and soon instead of crying, laughter and joy could be heard as Sir Pentious stood by their side.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Vox : Voices can get loud, programs can get loud and with the three Vees it can get very very loud. If not the models, then Val's employees or hookers suffer from this. But this stress for new eriesn, new porn shoots and new clothes became too much for every demon. And when Vox went back to his office/broadcasting station he had, as always, an overishct on everything. A look at everything and everyone, but a look at the one screen he always had closest to him. Just a second later, he showed up in her room using his skills to make the viewers go haywire. They were always surrounded by noise, so he knew how good it was to have silence. ,,Hey button we'll take care of the ratings later...what do you need mhh?" he asked taking her cell phone from the one she was using to monitor the other ratings. He used his hands to pull her towards him, moving her slightly around the room, not necessarily dancing but playfully looking for that spark. ,,Come on, tell dear Vox what it is? Something special you want me to take care of?" he offered a small spark on her body, seeing that she smiled briefly knowing she liked it, that little shock that made her heart beat faster, drove her nerves and dispelled her fear. ,,You know no one can do anything to the four of us, we're different...and hot," he reminded her, laughing with her as his mood brought her back to her proper self. She felt the loaded kiss on her lips briefly but like catching up on a television. Before they moved across the room they shared a drink and she rested her head against his shoulder as they looked across the cave knowing that if they all stayed together she would stay with Vox he would never leave her and everything would work out in the end.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Valentino : Obscene noises, neon pink signs, and a reclamation board and TV that gave a taste of the videos and movies that would come out if you went to the brothel in the compartment that belonged to Valentino. In this particular business, one thing mattered above all else. Stamina. Stamina if it was going to be a long night with twenty guys, stamina to film it all, stamina to count the money at the end and stamina when you were in hangover. It was exhausting for the employees and for Val, but especially for the assistant. The brothel mother, designer, scriptwriter and partner of the moth demon. It all just became too much at some point, which is why it took the Overlord a moment to realize that crying wasn't what he knew. In a flash of his smoke and the flutter of his wings, he made his way to their shared room. ,,My sweet kitty, what's wrong? No inspiration shall I fetch Angel or our favorite maybe Vox?" he suggested with a grin and took a puff on his cigrette as he approached the bed. Sha, however, that this only made him more depressed and his grin diminished as he extinguished the cigarette in the smoke and came to her, his wings blocking out the bright pink light from everywhere and the two of them a little darkened. Quiet and just the two of them. ,,Too much...I know it's a bit too stimulating sometimes," he mumbled, trying to find the right words, still not the best at taking care of others in his egocentric worldview of sex and money. But for her he would give anything and he could feel how it bothered him not to see her smiling, not shining with inspiration. He held out his hand to her for permission as she slowly cuddled up to him. ,,Here just the two of us just here and no one else just us" he whispered quietly trying not to hold her too tightly but not too loosely as the wings wrapped around them both like a blanket. As they both listened to each other's heartbeats, the sweet smell of Valentino was familiar but reassuringly true. It was just that hold they b oth needed in a place where they knew there was no going back.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

#hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #hazbin angel dust #hazbin husk #hazbin sir pentious #hazbin vox #hazbin valentino #alastor x reader #angel dust x reader #husk x reader #sir pentious x reader #vox x reader #valentino x reader

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blue-jisungs · 1 year

Text

you get hurt ♡

requested. yup! this one :) i hope you like it <3

a/n. if you see any similarity to the txt version… no you don’t ❤️ also i'm no medician so lmk if someting is humanly not possible or something + hints on idol!reader in i.n’a

warnings. mention of blood, glass cuts, pulling a muscle (?)

┆彡 BANGCHAN [ 방찬 ]

being a father of 7 made him a specialist in such kinds of situations

so when in the middle of the night he hears a sound of breaking glass and your “i’m fine!”

he goes to check up on you anyways.

and there you are, blood running down your hands

“you said you’re fine, huh?” chan’s voice startles you and you turn your gaze to look at him in shock.

“i was just… it’s the glass… don’t worry” you sigh but he comes up to you and leans forward to each for the first aid kit “no, chan, go back to work…”

“you’re crazy if you think i’ll leave it like this” he hums and takes a closer look at your hand. luckily it’s just a cut, there’s no glass pieces that got stuck.

as he bandages your hand you stare at him lovingly. the small pout of focus on his face and they way he’s so gentle with you.

“here. all done. now let me clean up the mess, okay?” chan looks up and catches you staring. he grins and places a quick kiss on the bandage.

if you want to help he literally puts you on the countertop and tells you to stay there

when it’s all clean he gives you a lecture about calling him if you’re hurt, even if it’s just a cut :(

you nod, he nods happily, everyone’s happy

┆彡 MINHO [ 민호 ]

another one that’s surprisingly calm

but he laughs at you first 😐

i mean okay. you tripped. it’s hilarious in his opinion. you’d laugh too if he was the one who tripped.

but then he realised you’re quiet, sitting on the sidewalk, tears at the brim of your waterline and he felt his heart ache :(

“oh baby don’t cry…” he murmurs, leaning down to help you stand up. you sniffle and wipe the tears that you didn’t even realise formed in your eyes.

“it hurt” you mumble and take his hand gently - since it got wounded a bit due to the little rock’s you fell onto. minho obviously notices that and helps you stand up. before you can realise he’s kneeling down

“hop on” he hums and you do, sniffling one more time. you wrap your hands around his neck gently and try to focus on him, not the pain.

once you’re back home he immediately washes the wounds and checks if the rest of your body is okay

once it’s done and your hands are safe and sound, he kneels in front of the couch you’re seated on

“i’m sorry for laughing” he mumbles, barely audible.

you nod and send him a warm smile

he monitors the state of your hands for the next days - if they heal properly and such. he’s acting like you got burned, not just a bit scraped but you still appreciate that <3

┆彡 CHANGBIN [ 창빈 ]

he is a pro at everything anatomy related

especially muscles

but his emotions always win though

so one time when you decided to go to the gym with him

and he turned away for one (1) second, then hears your groan

literally teleports next to you.

"one second. one" he scoffs and looks at you, face scrunched up in pain. the sight alone makes his heart ache - and the fact that you're in pain partly because of him, makes his heart ache even more.

he shakes his head and examines your shoulder, pressing his fingers. then he finds the muscle that you probably pulled. your eyes fill with tears.

"it hurts..." you murmur and changbin swears he's close to crying too.

gets you ASAP to some proffesional doctor

holds your hand for the whole time :(

when the doc says you have to rest it's like the word got tattooed in his brain

mans doesn't let you do ANYTHING, even clings to you when you're putting on your shoes

but in general he's very protective and does an research about every injury possible... just in case, duh

┆彡 HYUNJIN [ 현진 ]

your boyfriend clearly said that kkami is in a strange mood today and you should not touch him

but oh well.

yeah.

so while he was on a call and suddenly heard a loud yelp followed by kkami’s growl, he knew something was up

he entered the living room froze, all thoughts flying like out of a window

the manager’s voice, kkami’s aggressive behaviour towards you and you pouting with a quivering lip and glossy eyes :(

he excused the man and hung up, coming up to you

“i’m sorry” you mumble and sniff, kkami slowly hiding his teeth. hyunjin sat next to you, one arm wrapping around yours and the other gently grabbing your hand that you were holding close to you.

he looked at your forearm and the bite marks. they weren’t too deep yet they were slightly bleeding and most likely to leave a mark.

“i’m sorry…” you said again and looked at you, shocked “i should have listened…”

“hey, calm down. it’s okay” hyunjin hums and rests his forehead against your head for a moment before getting up to grab some bandages.

safe to say you avoided kkami for a while 😭

but you knew it was your mistake

hyunjin urged to take you to the hospital for some checkups but eventually he left the decision up to you

constantly checks if the wound is healing properly

one it is, he places kisses all over it ㅠㅠ

and gives you a lecture too

but you already learned your lesson so 😭

┆彡 JISUNG [ 지성 ]

he swears he didn’t mean to laugh

but it was 2am and you two were just in such mood

like hey, you laughed at him almost tripping like second ago

so when you trip on the stairs whilst coming back to your apartment from a midnight walk

he laughs, holding onto the wall

you laugh at first too but then the pain hits you

jisung takes a deep breath to calm down and notices how you’re sitting still on the stairs

“i’m sorry” he says, still smiling. you shake your head as it’s fine but he can clearly see you’re in pain. han panics a bit because what if you’re hurting? what if he made you sad with his reaction? what if…?

“will you help me get up or…?” you sigh dramatically and jisung does. once back in your apartment you roll up your pants only to see your knee bleeding.

“oh baby. you scraped it pretty badly. sit down, okay? let me take care of you” jisung hums, placing a soft kiss on your forehead before gently pushing you onto the couch. you notice how concerned he is and you reassure him that it’s fine.

once he’s done he notices you dozed off so he takes a pic :”)

other than that my poor boy feels so bad that he was laughing instead of helping, pls tell him it’s okay :(

will act like your leg fell off not just got scraped 💀

“nah let me tie your shoes!”

you don’t mind tho…

will hold onto for you for his dear life next time you two are walking up the stairs

┆彡 FELIX [ 필릭스 ]

no one saw this coming right

you were baking some cookies for felix!!

you knew he will be home soon so you kind of, well, were in a rush

so you opened the oven quickly and accidentally touched the flaming hot metal with your forearm

with tears in your eyes you quickly put it under lukewarm water

and you didn't even notice when he entered the kitchen :(

"y/n, it smells delicious... y/n?" felix gasps when he sees your sobbing figure. he immediately connects the dots and walks up to you to check the wound "oh baby"

"i wanted to surprise you" you sniff, looking at him. felix cupped your face and wiped your tears, shaking his head.

"i appreciate it, baby. but lets take care of you now, okay?" felix hums and with an aching heart he looks for the last time at your sad face.

in a matter of time you're sitting on a counter top, the wound less burning and achy (you believe its due to felix presence but he knows its how it works)

felix reassures you it's okay and even if you didn't manage to decorate the cookies, he's thankful you made them for him

he jokingly forbids you from using the oven but honestly whenever he hears you use it in the future, he runs up to the kitchen

┆彡 SEUNGMIN [ 승민 ]

you were supposed to meet in a park at 3pm

it was 5pm.

seungmin was a bit angry at first but then when you didn’t even call him, he started to worry

just when he got home, his phone started ringing

he never answered a phone call so fast.

“seungmin i’m so sorry…” you start

“you better have a good explanation” he murmurs, annoyed

“i uh, had an accident. but i’m leaving the hospital tomorrow though, if you’re still up to a date” you say calmly. there’s a long, suspicious silence “hello?”

“you had a what now?” seungmin asks, sounding almost unbothered. but his shaky breath gives him away.

“someone kind of, well, hit me with a car. but i’m okay! just a broken leg and some scratches. i got a vanilla pudding tho– hello?” you ask again but the sound of call ending answers instead.

you have no idea how he found out in which hospital you are

he walks into your room and you think he’ll be angry

but his features soften as he sits next to you, grabbing your hand

he doesn’t say much, almost nothing really. but his hand tightly holding yours says a lot :(

stays with you overnight in the hospital

and then he writes and doodles on your cast when you sleep

overall he’s very protective and watches carefully if your leg is healing properly

┆彡 JEONGIN [ 정인 ]

your group was having a comeback in a week and you were practicing really hard for your fans!

one day you happened to forget your knee protectors and your rehersal included your stage outfitss - which included a skirt

well, safe to say your knees looked like hell at the end of the day

you even had to put on a bandaid...

so obviously, even after changing into sweatpants before heading home, jeongin notices the soreness in your movements and the scrunch of discomfort on your face

and once you're in bed, in your pajamas, jeongin strikes

"what on earth are you doing?" you giggle as he rolls you over and with a playful grin throws off the covers. because of the summer weather you're in your shorts and that's when you realise what he's up to "innie..."

“you should have told me…” he tsks, shaking his head. he stands up to get some hydrogen peroxide.

“i know…” you whined when he came back “…but you’re even busier than me and it’s just a couple of bruises…”

“but it hurts. i know from my own experience” jeongin scoffs “please tell me next time, okay?”

you nod and watch him gently put some of the liquid at the scratches. after he’s done, he wraps you in a blanket burrito and snuggles with you to sleep.

it’s a small thing but please do tell him :(

he throws in an extra pair of knee protectors in your bag just in case

and even if somehow you don’t have them and you text him – he’s there right away, with them and some snacks for your group <3

[ masterlist <3 ]

taglist. @geniejunn ,, @luvhyun3 ,, @starlostseungmin ,, @elviransworld ,, @jnks6r ,, @sieunsgf ,, @ethereallino ,, @laylasbunbunny ,, @duolingofanaccount ,, @slytherinhobi ,, @jung0ne ,, @ka-ni-ma ,, @julaute ,, @moonacholy

#skz requests #seungmin skz #skz minho #skz bang chan #skz changbin #skz felix #skz han #skz i.n #skz hyunjin #skz scenarios #skz fluff #skz imagines #blue jisungs's requests #skz x reader #skz soft hours #skz x y/n #skz x you #skz reactions

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tonberry-yoda · 1 year

Text

A Nice Girl - Zuko

Pairing - Zuko x f!reader

Warnings - none!!

Word Count - 3,211

Notes - I have been pumping out these really long fics lately lmaoooo. i dont mean to i just simply get carried away. i need to stop before i get a block tho lmao. AND IM ALMOST AT 400 FOLLOWERS OMG!!! im like so excited about it tbh. maybe ill open my request when we get there. thank you all and i hope you're all well. stay hydrated!!

You yawned and stretched, the silk from your nightgown tickling you. That had to have been the best sleep you have gotten these past couple of weeks. As the oldest in the “gaang” at 17 years old, you had to act as the mother of the group and felt this awful need to protect everyone all the time, thus granting you several sleepless nights.

Sure, Ba Sing Se didn't feel like home and it didn't feel 100% safe either, but you got to sleep in a comfy bed and wear some really nice clothes. You had to admit that it was nice to be working with the Avatar sometimes.

You pushed your tangled hair out of your face and looked into the full length mirror next to your bed. Yeah, you definitely slept well, that was no question. You could tell by the rat’s nest created on your head and the sleep lines across your arms and face. You definitely needed to wash up before you started your day.

You got out of bed, stretching as the sun kissed your warm cheeks. You were going to make the best out of today. Lots of planning, but lots of downtime too, so that was nice.

As you finally walked out of your room, you were welcomed to cackling laughter from Sokka, his finger pointed at you.

“Ha, ha,” you said sarcastically, Katara handing you a brush. “Very funny, Sokka.”

“Not just funny,” he said through laughter. “It’s hilarious, y/n! You look so stupid!!!”

You rolled your eyes, hiding a smile, and tamed the rat’s nest on your head, looking a little more yourself.

Aang walked in the house holding a bowl of snacks with a smile on his face. “Oh, good morning, y/n! You sure slept in this morning!”

“Slept in?” You tilted your head. “What time is it?”

Katara took the brush from you and set it down on a nearby drawer. “Almost 10 am.”

“What?!” You were shocked. You were usually the first one up always and if not, you never slept past 8.

Katara giggled. “Listen, y/n. I think it's great that you finally got some sleep. We never really see you rest well, so none of us had the heart to wake you up.”

You beamed. “You guys are the best. Well,” you stretched. “I'm gonna get washed up so I don't look like a sleepy monster all day.” Something about Ba Sing Se gave you the creeps, but at the same time, it was nice to be back in a place where you could bathe in warm water and not fear Zuko coming after you. It's not like you had anything against the Fire Nation prince… it's more like… he was an inconvenience to you and the rest of the gaang. Since you and Zuko were about the same age, you understood him. Well, kinda. You escaped the Fire Nation when you were younger, disagreeing with all of their ideals and overall how they treated the world. You did see the prince as Fire Nation scum, but at the same time, you saw him as a kid, just like you. He was banished for god knows what and he just wanted to go home. You didn't hate Zuko. Not one bit. You understood that he may just be in some sort of hidden pain. But you had to admit that it was kinda nice to not have him around to bother you.

You got out of the shower refreshed and ready for the day. It was nice to have a day off, so you were probably going to get some tea and write in your journal about how the past couple of weeks have been. You figured it would be nice to log everything that has ever happened on this little journey just in case you all wanted a refresher in the next twenty years or so. You slipped on some Earth Nation attire and smiled at yourself in the mirror as you braided your hair. Today is going to be a good day, you thought. Nothing better than tea and some late breakfast.

“I'm going out for the day,” you said, placing your bag on your shoulder. “Stay out of trouble today, got it?”

You looked at Aang and he laughed. “I will, I will! Have a nice day, okay, y/n? You deserve it.”

“You’re all too kind to me. Thank you.”

“And let me know if you find Appa!”

“I will, don't worry.”

You smiled and walked out of the house, smelling the fresh Earth Nation air. Luckily, the walls didn't cover the fresh air, so you could still get the almost afternoon breath.

You spent the beginning of the day walking around shops, buying some supplies and new clothes for yourself and the others. The markets were busy, but it was nice to get some of the things you needed without Aang begging for some stupid trinket that you always ended up buying him because you thought it was cool too. That was always your impulse, stupid things that Aang showed you. Those could be the death of you.

As you finally finished your browsing journey, you overheard a conversation while looking over a map.

“I swear their tea has gotten better.”

“Really? I dunno.”

“I'm serious. It has to be the best tea shop in Ba Sing Se.”

“Fine, we can go try it later.”

You turned to the two men a little embarrassed that you were eavesdropping. “S-Sorry, but I was kinda listening to your conversation… uh… where’s that tea shop you were talking about? I've been trying to find a nice place to get some tea all morning.”

The man hyping up the shop smiled at you. “Don't worry about eavesdropping, kiddo. It's right here.” He pointed to the map you were looking at and you were satisfied that it wasn't too far from where you currently were.

You thanked the man and began your journey to the shop. It was a little closer to afternoon and you could feel your stomach rumbling, so you just decided to skip right to lunch.

You walked into the tea shop and saw people smiling and laughing together, the heavenly scent of tea filling your senses. You were quickly seated at a lone booth and given a menu. Everything looked so good, you could swear that you were about to drool just thinking about food.

You decided to order something that the waitress recommended and as she walked away, you flipped through your journal, going over everything that you and the gaang had been through. You quietly laughed to yourself as you passed a page that said: note to self - slap Zuko’s bald head at least once. Imagine the sound that would make.

It’s definitely been a long trip of both laughter and struggle, and honestly, you were really happy. You don't remember the last time you had laughed so hard before you met Aang and the others. It was nice. Really nice.

“Here’s your tea. Is there anything else you need?” Your tea was set in front of you along with your lunch and you tilted your head at the familiar voice that wasn't your waitress from earlier. It was on the tip of your tongue.

“I think I'm alright, thank-” You looked up and the smile you had suddenly dropped. No way. “Zu-”

Before you could say his full name, Zuko covered your mouth and quickly let go, hoping no one saw or heard any of that. “P-Please don't.”

“But you’re-”

“I know,” Zuko’s voice was low. “Just… can we talk… in the back?”

You looked around the restaurant at all of the other people and back at Zuko. He looked so different. Barely recognizable. His face didn't look so pissed off and he had a short head of hair now that looked healthy. The only reason you recognized him was the scar, but honestly, if he covered it up somehow, you wouldn't have a clue that he was the prince of the Fire Nation.

You nodded and stood up, collecting your things. You followed Zuko to the back, almost a little scared. You had no means of defending yourself. You were a non bender, so if he wanted to pick a fight, you were screwed. You didn't even have a simple weapon on you. Maybe you were getting too cozy.

Zuko brushed off a small table and pulled out a chair for you, which you sat in with slight hesitation.

“How did you get into Ba Sing Se?” You didn't mean to sound so defensive. Well, you did, but you weren't expecting to. Especially not on such a good day like this.

“It's… a long story.”

“Why are you here?”

“Listen… It’s not for the Avatar.”

“Huh? Is that so?” You crossed your arms and looked him dead in the eye. “Then explain to me how you always end up where we just so happen to be. That’s suspicious, isn't it?”

“I-”

“If you hurt Aang, I swear to-”

“I don't care about Aang right now!”

The whole room went quiet. You had never heard Zuko say Aang’s name before, let alone not care about what the Avatar is doing.

“Then why…”

“I have my own stuff to deal with. It's none of your business, okay? I do have a life outside of the Avatar, you know.”

You nodded and looked down at your tea. “I'm… assuming your uncle made this?” You giggled softly.

“Yeah. He did.” Zuko’s voice was small and way less frustrated.

“So that’s why this tea shop has hype all of a sudden.” You wondered aloud, your eyes wandering to the ceiling.

Zuko cleared his throat and shuffled in his spot. “So… uh… what now?”

“Promise not to hurt Aang and I won't say a word about you being here. I believe that you have your own stuff to deal with, so prove it to me.”

“I promise.”

Your eyes locked with his and you smiled, shocking Zuko a bit. You smiled at him, the guy that’s been trying to hurt you and your friends this whole time. The guy who would’ve done anything for the Avatar to be in his hands.

“You probably hate me, don't you?” Zuko spat out, rubbing the back of his neck.

You tilted your head. “Hate’s a strong word, don't you think?”

Zuko looked at you, appalled. “I mean, I would understand if you did.”

“It's been a long road for you, hasn't it, Zuko?”

He nodded at you and you pointed to the other side of the table, just realizing that he was standing that entire time. “Let’s share some tea.”

“I-I don't know if that’s a good idea.” Zuko took a step back.

“Ah, I see,” you stood up, scooting your chair back in. “You’re a busy man with a job now.”

He just nodded at you.

“Well, I'll let you get to it then, but I expect to see you at 6 tonight ready to hang out, okay?”

“Wh-What?! Won't your friends notice that you’re gone?”

You just smiled, collecting your things. “Zuko, I do have a life outside of the Avatar, you know.”

Zuko’s face went bright red as you walked out of the room with a smirk on your face. It was actually kinda cute to see Zuko not being some evil kid with his heart set on hurting anyone.

“You’re leaving?” Sokka whined, watching you grab your bag.

“Yes Sokka,” you said for what seemed like the hundredth time. “I'm leaving. I just want to go get dinner out by myself tonight. Maybe go for a nice walk.”

“Aww man,” Sokka pouted, crossing his arms. “Who’s gonna make dinner now?”

You rolled your eyes, trying to hide the smile creeping on your lips. “Sokka, I left some money on the table. You guys should go out and get something to eat tonight.”

“Why aren't you coming with us?” Sokka tilted his head, counting the money on the table.

“I just want to go out by myself tonight, that’s all.”

“So you’re just gonna have a lonely dinner all by yourself?” Sokka questioned, looking skeptical.

“Yes!”

“She’s lying.” Everyone turned to Toph and your face went bright red. You forgot she could tell if you were lying or not, and it definitely didn't help that you were outside on the concrete so Toph could really feel right through you.

Sokka turned back to you quickly. “You’re going to dinner with someone?”

“Fine, yes, I am, so what?”

“Who is it?”

You rolled your eyes, already late. “Just somebody.”

“Is it a boy?” Sokka gave you a mocking look and you pushed his face away.

“Fine, whatever! It's a boy! So what?! Now let me leave before I'm late. Have a nice dinner everyone.” You waved at the group and ran to the tea shop, hoping that Zuko didn't leave yet.

The bell rang as you opened the shop door. “Sorry, we’re not serving tea anymore, we’re closing at the moment,” a familiar voice said. Iroh peeked his head out, surprised to see you. “y/n?”

You smiled, “hi Iroh.”

“How are you?” Iroh set down the broom he was holding and pulled you into a soft embrace. You never told the others, but you spent quite a bit of time talking to Zuko’s uncle when you got the chance. He was a wise man and kind as well. Maybe that's why you understood Zuko so well, you had someone to give you some insight on the boy.

“I'm good, Iroh. How are you?”

“Oh I'm fine,” he beamed at you, pulling away from the hug. “I'm getting to live my lifelong dream of making tea for the people of Ba Sing Se, so that feels pretty nice.”

“Well, you are the best at making tea, Iroh.”

“Oh, stop. You’re so full of flattery, y/n.” Iroh blushed with a smile. “Is there a reason you’re here?”

“Is your nephew here?”

“You’re looking for Zuko?” Iroh cocked an eyebrow at you and you chuckled, surprised that you were even here.

“I am.”

Iroh gave you a skeptical look, but honestly didn't care much. He thought it was nice that someone wanted to visit Zuko. “He is here. Let me go grab him. Would you like some tea in the meantime?”

“Tea sounds great,” you admitted, sitting at a table.

As you got comfortable, Zuko ran into the room, completely surprised. “You’re here?”

You laughed. “Of course I am! I said I’d be here at 6 didn't I?”

“I thought you were bluffing.”

“Well now you know I'm serious. Wanna hang out?”

Zuko gave you a side eye and thought for a moment. “I think I know what you’re trying to do.”

“And what might that be?” Iroh entered the room, placing two teacups and a kettle on your table. You thanked Iroh as he left with a smile.

“You’re trying to get info out of me. About the Fire Nation… aren't you?”

You shook your head. “You’re so defensive all the time, Zuko.”

“Can you blame me?” Zuko shut all of the blinds in the shop and sat across from you, taking a sip of tea.

“I guess not.”

“I'm surprised you’re not a little more on edge.”

“Why’s that?” You took a sip of tea as well, humming at how delightful it tasted.

“I'm a firebender. You don't bend right? I could literally take you down at any moment. And it doesn't seem like you have any weapons either.”

“I trust that you won't do anything. Your uncle would probably be pissed about the mess to be honest.”

For the first time in all of your time knowing Zuko, you heard him laugh. He laughed so hard that he snorted a bit, which made him laugh harder. Because of all of his laughter, he made you laugh too, sending you both into a laughing fit. It felt good. You haven't laughed this hard since you first met Sokka, all covered in Appa’s snot.

Zuko literally had tears in his eyes by the time he stopped laughing. Seeing him happy made you feel… good. Really good. It was almost a relief. It made Zuko more human. You didn't know if you could even remotely call him your enemy anymore.

You two ended up talking all night, Iroh occasionally bringing more tea or just little treats every now and then. You literally couldn't stop talking to Zuko. To hear about what it was like to grow up in the Fire Nation as a prince was interesting. To hear what Ozai was really like in person sent chills down your spine. To hear where that scar on his face came from almost brought you to tears. Zuko didn't even know why he told you all of this, but he could say one thing. It felt nice. It felt this giant weight on his chest had been lifted.

After a few hours, you looked at the clock in the shop and frowned. “Bad news, Zuko. I gotta go.”

“Already?” He turned to face the clock and pouted his bottom lip. “Alright then.”

You stood up and collected your things. “Thanks for the tea, Iroh!” You shouted, which was responded with a big smile and a thumbs up from Iroh.

“Thanks for stopping by.”

“Anytime,” you said, opening the door of the shop. “I'll be back.”

“You will?” You turned to Zuko, who almost looked excited that you said that.

“Of course I will. Goodnight guys.”

“Wait,” Zuko ran up to you, holding the door open. “Let me walk you home, it’s late.”

“Zuko, I don't know if that’s a good idea.”

Zuko frowned, but you were probably right. If Aang spotted him for even a second, both of you would be done for. “R-Right. Well… thanks.”

“For what?”

“Hanging out. That was fun.”

You smiled. “That was fun. Thank you for not killing me, Zuko.”

“Anytime.” He giggled, immediately taken aback when you pulled him in for a hug after dropping everything.

He was so… warm. I mean, duh. He was a firebender. But even so, his hug felt so genuine, so nice, and you didn't want to leave. “Goodnight, Zuko,” you said as you pulled away from the hug.

“Goodnight, y/n.” This time, he shocked you by pulling you in for another hug and pulling away only to pull you in again, but this time, your lips were inches apart.

“Can I kiss you?” His voice was in a whisper, his warm breath dusting over your lips.

You just nodded and closed your eyes as his soft lips brushed against yours. You wrapped your arms around the back of his neck pulling him closer. He smiled into the kiss, wrapping his arms around your waist.

When you pulled away from the kiss, both of you said a quick goodbye, your cheeks dusted pink.

Zuko quickly walked back into the tea shop to help Iroh close and put his back on the door.

“I'm glad you found a nice girl, Zuko.” Zuko jumped hearing his uncle’s voice, his face turning a dark shade of crimson.

Though if he was being honest, he was glad he found a nice girl too.

~~~~~

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@tonberry-yoda

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#i hope you guys like it #i got carried away and wrote too much lmao #writing #fanfic #fanfiction #my writing #<3 #atla #zuko #atla x reader #zuko x reader #avatar the last airbender x reader #avatar the last airbender #avatar #prince zuko #the gaang

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justmeinadaze · 2 months

Note

I was rereading your aftercare series and I thought about if reader and her bf had like really bad sex, maybe like in his car or something, and she doesn't even cum, and then he drops her off at home where Steve and Eddie help her get off and then take the best care of her 💙

Ok so I have a couple of requests in waiting I may use this version of them for. I think it will help focus my brain and since a lot of your requests are like this I think I can fit it into this AU and get them out faster :)

I hope you like!

Why Can't I Be in a Meg Ryan Movie? (Or Even a Good Porno)

Warnings: Actor Steve Harrington/ Rockstar & Actor Eddie Munson and Actress Fem Reader, SMUT, in the shower :), some heavy petting on set, dirty talk, reader and her boyfriend have sex and she does not have a good time (quick and brief), FLUFF, these three are filming a movie together and since they are supposed to be friends they BECAME friends behind the scenes, ANGST, reader is unhappily in a relationship, he's a dick sabotaging scenes and talking down to her, they are filming an 80s Slasher movie together so their are times those scenes are conveyed (mentions of death, blood, needing to feel safe, etc.) Those scenes are brief.

Word Count: 4897

The metalhead swings open his front door, gun drawn as you squeak and hide behind your gorgeous, captain of the football team best friend.

“Whoa! It’s us, James, it’s us.”

“Jesus, Carter. What the fuck happened?!”, the long-hair boy asks as he gestures you two inside and locks the door.

“Cindy’s fucking dead.”, the jock answered with a gruff tone as he guided you towards the sink and began washing the blood from your hands as you sobbed.

“Shit. Nina, I’m so sorry.”

“I-I-It’s ok.”

The man’s palms grip your cheeks as he wipes your tears with his thumbs.

“It’s not. We can make it through this. I know we can. We just need to figure out who this fucker is so we can kill him ourselves.”

“Agreed but we aren’t doing that tonight. James, is it alright if we stay here with you?”

“Dude, yeah, of course. Sweetheart, you can take the bed and we can—”

“No!”, you cry out. “Please…I don’t want to be alone.”

“Of course, there’s only one fucking bed.”

Everyone in the room groans as you frustratingly lay your forehead against the tattooed arm you had reached out to grab.

“Cut! Ryan, we’ve talked about this. You can’t interrupt a scene.”

“Aren’t you shooting in the studio next door?”, Steve growled in annoyance as he threw the prosthetic bat he was holding on to the counter.

“Maybe they got tired of him to.”, Eddie whispered loud enough that your boyfriend could hear.

When you received the script from your agent to be in a typical 80’s slasher, you immediately turned him down for fear of being type cast like some of the other actresses you read about who starred in the genre but when he mentioned you’d be working with not only the massive heartthrob and brilliant actor Steve Harrington but also the rockstar of one of your favorite bands Corroded Coffin, you changed your tune.

When you told your boyfriend however he was less than amused. Honestly, you thought it was more his anger that you were getting a high paying job than who you were working with. Ryan’s own career was starting to stall as the ratings for his current show were in decline. You noticed he had begun taking that out on you in subtle ways like demeaning you at a party or, like right now, sabotaging a scene.

“Fuck you, Munson. I’m a respected actor! You’ve been in what one other movie?”

“Well shit. He got me, Harrington. What the fuck would I know about being an actor? Please Ryan can you teach me how to get on your level? Teach me how to be an asshole just like you!”

“OK! Jesus.”, the director whined. “Can we reset and do this with no interruptions please?!”

Both men turn and you follow Steve to the other side of the door.

“I’m so sorry, you guys. He’s not always like this.”

“Hm. You need to be careful with that one, honey. I know he’s your boyfriend and all but I don’t want him to ruin all the hard work you’ve done here.”

“Steve, this is a slasher film about a killer who wears a suit and clown mask killing high school seniors. It’s not Citizen Kane.”, you giggle making them smile.

“Yeah but picture people dressing up like you like they do with Jamie Lee Curtis or that hot chick whose show was big when we were school. What was it, Steve?”

“I have no idea.”, he chuckles.

“With the hair and the black dress that…” Eddie mimed pushing his chest together as if he had boobs making you laugh harder.

“Elvira?”

“YEAH! Good job, princess. Thank you. Imagine people dressing like you in that sexy ass tank top and jeans that hug them hips.”

You grinned as you lightly punched his arm. Since Steve was playing your best friend, after you were cast you reached out to him and invited him to lunch hoping to get to know him better. When he told you Eddie was hisbest friend, you insisted he bring him along and over the last few months had gotten to know both men fairly well. You loved their attitudes and the way they made you laugh. You felt safe with them which in a media dominated by men you appreciated.

***

“How was your date last night?”, you ask Steve while the three of were laying in the bed on set.

You were a bit nervous because this was supposed to be your big kiss scene with him so you were trying to lighten the mood as much as possible.

“Pfft terrible. She whined the entire time about my restaurant choice and was rude to the staff.”, he sighed as Eddie giggled behind you.

“I tooooold you.”

“Yeah, yeah. Shut up, Munson.”

“See we never had that problem when we shared girls.”

“Whoa! Excuse me. You’re going to have to elaborate on that.”, you laughed with wide eyes.

“Ok, first off, it did happen a few times which is why we aren’t currently in a relationship. Secondly… Eddie and I…may have shared a partner a time or two.”

“Wow. Do you two, um,…”

“No, we don’t ‘um’ but yeah we like the way a woman unfolds when we take care of her.”, the metalhead smiles making you blush a bit. “Have you ever tried it?”

“Oh, uh, no. I’m not really…adventurous like that I guess.”

“Captain asshole doesn’t blow your mind?”

Your smile widens as you punch his chest.

“Not…no. I don’t know. Ryan tries but lately he seems so distracted.”

“Hm. That’s a shame. Beautiful girl like you should have all the attention on her.” Steve throws a soft grin your way, deepening the pink around your cheeks.

You’re suddenly very aware you are in a long heavy metal shirt with underwear and no pants while both men are in sweatpants with Steve shirtless.

“Ok, gang, get comfy. We’re going to do some lighting tests real quick to make sure we’re still good and then we’ll start rolling.”

Nodding, you three get in your places that were discussed in rehearsal. As Eddie wraps his arm around your waist and you do the same across Steve’s tummy, you feel very thankful your boyfriend wasn’t there today. After lifting his arm, you rest your head on his chest as he casually starts playing with your hair.

“I’m not fucking anything up am I?”, he asks in a deep, husky voice you weren’t prepared for.

“Oh, uh, no I think…I think you’re fine.”

“You can put your hand on my chest if you want.”

Blinking up at him, you do what he suggests and a sigh leaves his lips at the feeling.

“Ok, we are good to go. Everyone is sleeping except you Carter. Nina wakes up, you say your lines, kiss, and then you hear a noise that startles you.”

Your eyes shut as you nuzzle into him as he continues to move his fingers through your hair.

“Alright, I need quiet on set and action!”

Your head stirs at the feeling of fingers caressing you as your eyes flutter open.

“Carter?”

“Yeah, hey, I’m right here.”

“Have you gotten any sleep?”

“No but I’m ok. James is past the fuck out though.” You both laugh as you glance behind you towards the sleeping metalhead. “He rolled over a while ago and wrapped his arms around you. I guess he thinks you’re a teddy bear or something. You ARE very comfy.”, he grins as he looks down at you. “I’m a little jealous.”

“James IS very pretty.”

His smile grows as he kisses your forehead.

“Naw, honey. I mean he is very beautiful but…not as beautiful as you.”

Your eyes scan his as you both slowly tilt forward. When his lips land on yours, your body lights up as your palm lightly grips his cheek. His kisses come a bit more passionately as his own hand grips the back of your neck. As his tongue slides into your mouth, you groan as your mind is suddenly clouded with fuzzy feelings of your best friend.

Is it just you or can you feel your other friend pressing himself against you. Isn’t he asleep? Maybe I could turn and—

“CUT! Guys! Listen!”, the director yells. “I said cut like five times! Y/N, Steve, remember in rehearsal we said it was a soft, delicate kiss.”

“Sorry.”, the actor whispers before turning towards you. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s ok.” You glance towards Eddie whose eyes are squeezed shut still but he’s murmuring things to himself.

“Cold showers, cold showers, Wayne naked, fucking Jeff puking after too many booze…”

“Are you alright?”, you ask.

“Yeah, yeah. I’m, um, I’m ok. I’m sorry if you, um, we can…I’m sure the intimacy lady can put like a pillow or something…”, he suggests as his gaze shifts between his legs under the blanket. “Y/N, I don’t think you’re supposed to moan when you kiss him.”

“Huh?”

“You moaned when you were kissing me.”, Steve answered breathily as he continued staring into the void with wide eyes.

“That’s why I’m…I have a… you have really sexy moans, sweetheart.”

“And you taste really fucking good.”

Your eyes lock with Steve’s at his comment as a heavy exhale escaped your lungs.

“Alright, gang, reset!”

Laying back in your original positions, you realize Eddie’s is a bit farther from you than he was before. Biting your bottom lip, you turn your head as much as you can towards him.

“Ed, you can…you can scoot closer.”

“Y/N, I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

“I’m not.” To emphasis your point, you push your lower half into his and a subtle groan leaves his throat. Holding your hips, he grinds against you making your eye lids droop as your rub your thighs together and lift your leg over the other man’s waist, just grazing the growing bulge in the sweats they had them in.

“Ok! We’re ready to go. Take two and we’re rolling…action!”

You ARE very comfy.”, he grins as he looks down at you. “I’m a little jealous.”

“James IS very pretty.”

His smile grows as he kisses your forehead.

“Naw, honey. I mean he is very beautiful but not as beautiful as you.”

The boy’s lips feverishly crash to yours as he twists his torso to give himself better access to your

mouth.

“Carter.”, you moan.

“Y/N.”, he answers in your ear that’s furthest from the mic.

Your eyes shoot open as you realize what’s happening and no one is in character anymore. Pushing at his chest, he sees the slight regret in your eyes as he tries to regain his composure.

“I think I heard something.”, you point absently off camera. Throwing off the blanket, he grabs his weapon before you quickly grab his arm. “Be careful…please. I-I-I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

His eyes soften as he leans in and give you a small peck on the lips.

“Don’t worry, honey. I’ll be ok. I promise.”

############

“Geez.”, Ryan laughed as you tore at his pants in the back seat of his car. “What’s got you all hot and bothered?”

“I just…missed you.”

Your boyfriend’s grin grows as he takes hold of your lower back and flips you around till he’s on top of you yanking down your pants. As he kisses your neck and rubs his cock along the cotton blocking your core, your mind begins to wonder.

Steve’s lips tasted amazing. I wonder what Eddie tastes like. Feeling them groan in my ear…fucking hell…

As Ryan’s length entered your sex, you suddenly felt underwhelmed.

They both felt so big even through their pants. I wonder what they would feel like inside of me…together…moaning like they had…

“Fuck, babe.” His body shook as he thrust his seed inside of you a bit too aggressively as you laid there unsatisfied. “God that was… did you…?”

Nodding your head, he beamed down at you as he kissed your forehead before reaching for a napkin on the floor of his car. When he handed it to you, you held it without moving as a disgusted look painted your face.

“I have to get back to work. You should go home and take a shower. You smell like sweat and that asshole rocker’s cigarettes.”

With that, he exited his vehicle and walked back inside.

Shaking your head, you ambled over to your own car and reached into your glove compartment for some of the tissues you stored there. You sat in the driver’s seat for a while staring off into space feeling slightly dirty and used.

You may have initiated the contact but lately Ryan hadn’t been satisfying you and the way he was after didn’t make you feel any better.

Abruptly, you slammed your door and started the engine, driving off into what you thought was no particular direction.

#############

“Hi, um, I’m sorry. I must be at the wrong—”

“Are you looking for Steven?”, the girl interrupted sassily. “Yeah you’re in the right place but don’t expect anything from either of these assholes.”

“Carol, why are you answering my door? I told you, please, get out.”

Steve’s eyes met yours as fear flashed through them.

“All yours, babe.”

As she stomped past you, the boy took her place in the doorway of the apartment.

“I’m sorry. I should just go.”

“No! Wait, no!”, he yelled panicked as he reached for your arm. “Please, come in. She was just…that’s the girl I had my date with who was rude, remember? She came over because…I didn’t call her? I don’t know.”, he shrugs.

Stepping into their shared space, you were surprised by how modest it was. With how much money they made together, you would have expected them in a penthouse or a mansion.

“Is the pterodactyl gone?”, Eddie asks as he exits his room pausing when he sees you. “Shit. Hey, Y/N. Are you alright? You look frazzled.”

“Why pterodactyl?”, you ask with a small smirk as you feel both their eyes intensely scanning you over.

“She, uh, came in here like a bat out of hell screeching. Raaaaaaaw!”, he mimics as he spreads his arms like wings, smiling when you laugh. “See? I’m an actor.”

“What’s going on, honey? I thought you were spending some time with Ryan.”, Steve inquires as he leans over the back of their couch.

“I was! I did… we, um, spent some time together… in his backseat…”

“And then he just sent you home?”

“Yeah, well, not right away. First he came in like 3 seconds and I learned that my boyfriend who I’ve been sleeping with for 4 months has no idea what a woman orgasming feels like because he asked me if I did and when I told him yes he got super excited. Then he proceeded to hand me a dirty napkin from his floor to clean myself with and then promptly told me I should go home and shower because I smell gross like sweat and your cigarettes Eddie.”

“Honestly, I’m surprised he even fucking noticed because I was barely even present during the whole experience because I was too busy imagining you two and what you would feel like inside me! Now I feel like a whore, used, and disgusting and I didn’t know where else to go so I just started driving and somehow ended up here and—”

Steve pulling you into his arms and pressing your face into his chest cut you off as you cried.

“Hey, Munson, is your shower actually clean?”

“I’m always on tour, Harrington, so what do you think?”

“No then?” Both boys smile when you giggle against him. “That’s ok. We can use mine. Come on, pretty girl.”

Eddie trails after you both as Steve guides you into his room and towards the bathroom. Opening the door to his standing shower, you marvel at how big it actually is.

“Wow. This is very nice.”

“Thank you.”, he smiles as he sticks his palm under the water to make sure it its warm. As the steam starts to rise, he gestures inside. “All for you, honey.”

“Just me?”, you whisper as your gaze shifts between them.

“What would make you comfortable, Y/N?”, Eddie asks as he steps closer to your side.

Swallowing nervously, you close your eyes as you lift off your shirt and toss it to the side before unbuttoning your jeans to do the same.

A tap on your shoulder causes you to open them again meeting the metalhead’s chocolate irises as he tries not to glance down your body.

“You have to say it, sweetheart. If you don’t want this or anything at all that’s absolutely fine. If you want us to even just sit out here while you’re in there or just to stand in there with you…”

“Or if you want us to do some of those things you were imagining us doing when you were with Ryan…you have to say it.”, Steve adds.

Nodding silently, you remove your bra and slide down your panties, their gazes never leaving your face.

“I want you two to shower with me and take care of me.”

Softly smiling, the remove their clothes and you provide them the same courtesy they did you, keeping your eyes forward. After guiding you in first, they follow behind and you let out a deep sigh as the water hits your hair.

“You’re so beautiful, Y/N. I know I’ve always jokingly flirted with you but I do think you are gorgeous.”, Eddie admits making you smile as you wrap your arms around his neck.

“Can I kiss you?”

As soon as you get permission your lips connect to his, reveling in the taste of cigarettes that Ryan seemed to have so much disdain for mixed with mint and a hint of alcohol. While his fingers tangled in your hair to pull you closer, Steve’s hands behind you roamed everywhere, down your arms, along your stomach, and up to your breasts.

The metalhead tenderly kissed your jawline, trailing the valley of your chest. Almost as if offering him a taste, the boy behind you cupped the bottom of you breast as Eddie wrapped his lips around the bud eliciting a soft moan from you.

“Eddie.”

“Does that feel good, honey?”, Steve murmured in your ear as you leaned your head against his shoulder.

“Yes. S-So good.”

Descending to his knees, Eddie turned you to face the other man, opening your legs a bit wider and you mewled when his long tongue flicked your entrance.

“How do you feel now, Y/N?”

“Fuck.” Your response makes Steve chuckle as he grabs your cheeks and brings your lips to his. “Can I…touch you…please…”, you ask between each kiss.

“Baby, you can touch us as much as you want as long as you’re comfortable.”

As soon as your small hand takes hold of his cock he groans as his forehead falls on yours, panting against your mouth as you stroke him.

“Shit. We’ve been thinking about you all afternoon. How you would feel and what you would sound like.”

Your head leans against his chest as Eddie’s tongue moves faster inside of you. Abruptly your knees buckle but the metalhead is faster than his friend as he catches you and leans your back against his chest. Looping his arm around your front, he thrusts his two of his fingers into your cunt while you cling to his wrist.

“That good, baby girl? Good, you deserve it. You’re not a whore, sweetheart, and you’re definitely not disgusting. Cum for me, Y/N.” Turning your head, you passionately kiss him as you come undone. “Fuck, your pussy is so tight when you cum. Are you kidding me?”

“M-More. I want more. Please.”

Steve lifts you up just enough to place your back on the tile as he climbs on top of you and you promptly circle your legs around his waist.

“This ok? The tile isn’t cold, right?” Shaking your head, you lean up to kiss him, grinding your lower half against his desperately. “Are you… on—fuck—can I cum inside you?”

“Please.”

He licks his lips at the word as his cock twitches against you. Reaching between your bodies, he grips his base and as you tilt up to look you moan at how big he seems even in his own large hand.

“Go slow at first. I’ve…I’ve never had someone as big as you two.”

“Shit, honey, you can’t say stuff like that.”, Steve breathily laughs as his head hangs, his damp hair tickling your face a bit. “Okay…okay, I can do that.”

Feeling extra warmth by your side, you turn to see Eddie laying on his side as he flashes you a soft smile. Biting his own lip, he watches as your face contorts and your back arches as the boy on top of you starts pushing into your core.

“It’s ok, princess. You’re ok.”

Steve’s head fell next to your opposite side and your pussy couldn’t help but clench at the sound of his whimpers in your ear. His hand suddenly smacks the floor beside you as his arm bent at the elbow. The action startled you but made his friend laugh.

“That hard, Harrington?” Your eyes meet his in confusion as he beamed down at you. “He’s trying to control himself from not just pounding into you. Your little pussy is driving him crazy.”

This confused you even more since every man you had been with never had the reaction Steve was having now. Even Ryan made it seem like you and your body were nothing special.

“Hey, hey come back, Y/N.”, Eddie cooed as he caressed your cheek with his finger.

That caused Steve to push up on his arms to look down at your face.

“Are you ok? I’m not h-hurting you or anything right?”

“No, you’re not. No one…no one has ever…made me feel like…BEING with me is anything special.”

They knew what you meant and it broke their hearts as the man inside you kissed your forehead before placing his head back where it had been by your ear.

“I’m sorry, baby. You deserve so much better then that. Your pussy should be worshipped. Fuck me. I swear, Y/N, I’ve never had anyone as tight as you. I could fucking live inside you. God… I knew it when you kissed me. You’re definitely fucking special.”

When he was fully sheathed inside you, your hands clung to his shoulders while he waited patiently for you to tell him he could move.

Your hips tested the waters as you rolled them upwards making you both moan as your eyes rolled back.

“P-Please, Steve.” Tilting up a bit, he placed his nose against yours as he slowly thrust into your body. “Fuck, I can feel you in my stomach.”

His mouth fell open as his pants warmed your face even more than the shower steam around you. As your nails scratched down his back, his pace quickened, hitting that spongy spot inside of you repeatedly as you whimpered at the feeling.

“Steve. Harder, baby.”

Pushing up onto his knees, the man gripped your thighs for leverage as he honored your request.

“Like that, Y/N? Is he about to make you cum?”, Eddie murmured in your ear as his palm held your face. “Cum, Y/N. Let him feel what I did. Trust us, sweetheart, we know exactly what a beautiful woman coming feels like.”

Arching your back high off the tile beneath you, your vision was blinded by white as you came.

“Jesus.”, Steve growled through gritted teeth as he chased his own release.

Your lips mingled with Eddie’s as the other man leaned forward to massage your tits in his large palms before hearing him grunt above you as pumped his spend into your cunt.

After carefully pulling out of you, both men trailed kisses to your neck, tenderly sucking and nibbling at your sweet spots as your body continued to tingle with need.

“Eddie…please…”

“You don’t have to take me tonight, princess. Tonight is about you.”

“I want you.”

“Fuck me. Say that again.”

“I want you, Eddie. I need you.”

Once Steve was out of the way, the metalhead guided you around until your back was to his chest again with you both laying on your sides. On impulse, you lifted your leg and without missing a beat, he held it in place with his palm firmly gripping your thigh.

Grinding his hips, his cock ran along your pussy lips as you moaned.

“I’ll go slow too at first, ok?”

After you nod, he releases his hold on you only long enough to maneuver his length into your heat.

“Oh my god.”, you whine as your head falls into the nook of his other arm.

“I know. I know, baby. You’re—mmm—you’re doing so well. Tight little pussy is stretching out perfectly for me. Fuck.”

“Fuck me, Eddie. I-I can take it.”

Smiling, his fingers grabbed your jaw, turning you to face him so his forehead could lean on yours.

“You can take it? Are you sure?” As if to test you, he slammed his waist hard into yours hitting your now overly sensitive and abused g-spot making you whimper against his lips.

“Yeeees, baby, just like that.”

“You want it hard like that, sweetheart? Fuck, you are so fucking beautiful like this.”

While Steve did talk a bit while he was inside you, Eddie couldn’t seem to stop, whispering praises and compliments against your skin as he thrust into you. You definitely didn’t mind, wishing you could focus on anything but the pleasure to do the same.

“Stay with me, pretty girl. I need to feel you cum again and squeeze my dick.”

“Eddie…I…feels…good…”

Grinning again, he tenderly kissed your lips.

“Are you trying t-to praise me? Aw, poor baby can’t focus on words?” When you whined and nodded, his smiled grew. “Good. It’s ok, Y/N. Just focus on my cock right now. I want you to cum for me.”

Picking up his pace, you circle your arm behind you around his neck clinging to his hair till you felt your body tremble as the coil in your stomach snapped.

“God damnit! Atta girl. Feels so fucking good.”

While your pussy quivered around him, he pumped into you till you felt him warm your insides as you milked him dry.

After pulling out, the three of you laid on the floor of the shower on your back trying to catch your breathes.

“I can’t tell if I’m steamy or sweaty.”

You smirked as they both laughed at your statement.

“Either way, you smell good. Hang on.” Closing your eyes, you listened to Steve move around before jumping when you feel a washcloth between your legs. “Sorry! Sorry. I should have warned you. I’m just cleaning you.”

“I hope its ok it’s not a dirty napkin.”, Eddie sassed making you giggle as you reach over to lightly punch his arm. “You deserve better than him, Y/N.”

“You really ARE special. I hope you know that.”, Steve added. “And not just your body.”

You don’t say anything as they turn off the water and lead you back to the bedroom to dry you.

“Do you want your clothes or I can give you one of my shirts. According to Ryan, your stuff smells like smoke so I don’t see what difference a new shirt would make.”

“Oh. Um…I can just…wear my clothes…”, you pout as you hang your head.

As your about to turn to take the garments from Eddie’s hands, the other boy grabs your wrist as he takes a seat on his bed.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

“No, hey, no. Not nothing. What’s running through your mind?”

Unlike with your boyfriend, when your eyes shift between theirs you don’t see annoyance but empathy. They genuinely want to make sure you’re alright.

“Do you want me to go?”

You question surprises them as they exchange a glance.

“No. God no.”, the metalhead answers as he sits on the bed as well. “Y/N, we just don’t want you to feel uncomfortable. If you want to go you’re more than welcome but we’d rather you stay.”

“We don’t want you to feel how you felt when you came in here.”, Steve adds.

“I don’t feel like that. I wouldn’t feel like that if I left right now either.” They softly smile your way as they nod. “I don’t want to leave though. Not yet.”

“Aaaaare you hungry? We were going to order some food before Harrington’s ex-girlfriend flew in wreaking havoc.”

“Oh my god. Ok, we went on ONE date! One!”

“Can we get food from the restaurant you took her to. I really want to see if your restaurant choices do suck.”, you giggle as he rolls his eyes.

“I hate you both.”, Steve teases as he gets up and heads for the phone.

Eddie helps you into one of his shirts and his friend’s shorts he found nearby.

“Comfy? Good. See, princess, you’re adventurous.”, he winks as he grabs your palm in his before looking down at how they fit together. “Did you like it? Being with two people?”

With your free hand, you tilt his chin and kiss his lips.

“I liked being with you two.”

Steddie Asks

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lovelyladyabsinthewrites · 5 days

Note

Can I request ACOTAR poly bats x mate reader? Who got killed if you don't write that the reader just got injured badly? Thank you!

Injury HC (ft. poly!mates Bat Boys)

While I love me some heavy angst, I just couldn't bring myself to kill off mate reader even if its just for a hc 😭😅

Warnings: lots of mentions of blood, wounded/dying!reader, polyamorous mates, injuries, healing, angst and fluff, ft. mor, ft. amren, ft. madja, ft. wraiths

woof where to begin

it would be damn near impossible for any of them to think rationally at the sight of blood coming from you, not their beloved who should only be full of smiles and laughter

bat boys become overbearing if you even get a papercut

But this. . . this was something else entirely.

So much blood that they feel sick from the rusty smell of it that permeated the air.

You looked so small and broken; Rhys has already come up with a thousand ways to kill whoever did this to you. You were their beautiful, proud, cunning mate.

The first one to make a move toward your body would be Rhysand. Always rational under pressure as Azriel and Cassian look around in case there was an ambush by the enemy. He feels sick to his stomach the entire time he's checking your vitals. When his fingers make contact with your blood soaked head, the sticky substance felt white hot. Rhysand could wash his hands millions of times and still feel that searing sting of your blood on his skin.

When they finally get you safely to Madja, you do manage to regain some consciousness, enough to reach out and grab Azriel's hand as everyone was leaving the operating room. Its difficult to move your lips to speak but you manage to plead for Azriel to stay. His shadows always soothed you.

There's no rest for Rhysand or Cassian unfortunately.

Despite Mor and Amren's best efforts, they can't drag your other two mates away from the door.

Rhysand being constantly updated by Azriel through his thoughts and shadows

Cassian tried not to let dark possibilities into his head. They banged against the door of his mind, loud and clear. If you died. . .

"She won't die." Rhysand would tell him sharply. He couldn't lose hope. But the steady smell of your blood that refused to lessen worried Rhysand greatly.

For Azriel, he was forced to stand there at your side as Madja did her best to put you back together. He refused to look away. There was absolutely nothing he could do to help.

He furiously clenches and unclenches his hands. Angry with himself for not being enough to protect you.

In the wee hours of the morning, Mor finds Rhysand and Cassian slumped together asleep. She put a blanket around them and takes a seat to join them in awaiting news. Amren soon follows suit once she has risen from bed by worry.

Finally, Azriel emerges into the waiting room.

Cass and Rhys leap from their seats

You're alive, although incredibly weak.

Madja had to bind and fix your bones while also trying to stop your bleeding. The most important thing was that you would live with some major scarring.

For the next several months, you acquired three overbearing nurses.

Not that you were complaining.

They only allowed Madja to tend to you and that was just during your checkups. Even the Wraiths' cooking was monitored by one of the bat boys.

Azriel and Rhysand had the tenderest hands when they changed your bandages or moved you around so you wouldn't get bed sores.

When you were well enough, Cassian would carry you to the outside garden so you could enjoy the warmth of the sun personally. You'd sit on his lap with your head resting on his chest. You liked listening to him talk as your ear was pressed close to his heart.

You had to tell them to shut up a few times because of how often they would apologize to you about letting you get hurt. It wasn't their fault, you'd argue to deaf ears. This was actually motivation for you. To remedy this and prevent getting hurt this badly ever again, you'd have to train more. Get stronger so your mates wouldn't blame themselves for you getting hurt in their absence.

Rhysand may be the only one who doesn't coddle you during any kind of physical therapy. He's one for tough love. Cassian too. Poor Az is utterly helpless.

Oh, you're out of breath? Let me carry you, sweetling. Rhys and Cass being too difficult? I'll give them a talking to.

Once fully healed thanks to your bat boys, you feel stronger and better than ever.

#reader insert #reader insert fanfiction #acotar fanfic #rhys acotar #rhysand acotar #acotar #acotar series #a court of thorns and roses #acotar fandom #bat boys #azriel acotar #azriel x reader #cassian x reader #acotar cassian #rhysand fanfiction #rhysand x reader #a court of thorns and roses x reader #a court of thorns and roses fanfic #a court of thorns and roses fanfiction

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proxima-writes · 6 months

Text

pairing: cult leader!joel miller x virgin!female reader

rating: explicit (18+ MDNI)

word count: 8.6k

summary:

You think you’re as good as dead when a band of raiders find you. In what you think are your final moments, an angel appears.

His name is Joel Miller, and he is here to deliver you from evil.

author's note: a huge thank you to my fellow cultist @atinylittlepain for listening to me scream about this. without them, we'd probably be on version 5 of this story. and to everyone who has been excited about this, i hope you enjoy!

warnings: DARK CONTENT - DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT, dub-con: power dynamics, dub-con: cult mentality, age difference - 60M and 27F, explicit sexual content (18+ minors do not interact), no use of y/n, dual POV, post-outbreak, canon divergence, canon typical violence (knife wounds, gun shot wounds, numerous mentions of blood), minor character death(s), blood cult ceremonies, religious themes, possessive behavior, emotional manipulation, loss of virginity, oral sex - f receiving, vaginal fingering, unprotected p in v, cum play, dirty talk, pet names, praise, joel really has a loose screw ok? if there are any tags missing, please let me know!

“I don’t think you should go out there by yourself,” you say, watching as your dad inspects his gun. He looks up at you with a pained expression.

“I gotta see where we should head next. I don’t want to lead you out in the wrong direction, accidentally get you in a bad spot,” he says. “I’ll be fine, buttercup.”

There’s a heaviness that settles in your stomach at his words. He sounds confident enough, but his eyes tell a different story, expose his fear. He stands with a sigh, a wince of pain washing over his face.

“Maybe I should—“

“No,” he interrupts. “I’m going. I won’t be gone long, okay? We can’t stay here forever. Who knows what’s out there in the forest.”

That’s exactly what you’re afraid of. At least inside the rotted cabin you stumbled across you could pretend you were safe. The forest is alive in a way you’ve never experienced growing up in a QZ surrounded with barbed wire and steel. You hear the snap of twigs and the howl of wolves, or the flutter of wings and the call of birds, and sometimes you think you feel the weight of eyes watching you if you venture out too far in your exploration.

“We’ve made it this far. We got out of Denver and that was half the battle,” your dad says. “You got your knife, right? And enough rations.”

You nod, swallowing around the lump in your throat. He kisses your forehead, dry lips lingering on your skin. You have an aching feeling this is a goodbye, some sinking intuition that he’s making a mistake that you can’t correct.

“Be back soon. I love you.”

Joel’s been keeping an eye on the people in the woods for the last three days. There was chatter on one of the radio stations that the Denver QZ was facing an uprising and he knows that once those walls come down, the survivors that venture out are bound to stumble across his town.

The cabin door opens and the man steps out, venturing into the forest. Joel waits to see if his female companion follows, but the door remains shut. He longs to see you, the girl who’s image has been burned into his brain since his first glimpse, but he has a duty to fulfill first.

He walks quickly and quietly through the forest, sure feet catching up with the man less than a mile from where he’d started. Joel clears his throat.

The man turns, fumbling with a gun that he clearly has no experience using, pointing it at Joel with shaking hands and shouting, “Move and I’ll shoot!”

“You lost?” Joel asks, holding his hands up and keeping his face trained in a mask of concern. “Lookin’ for somethin’?”

After a pause, the man seeming to have concluded that Joel isn't a threat, he says, “My daughter and I…we escaped the Denver QZ."

"That must've been difficult."

"We....we're running out of food," he continues, dropping his arms, limbs hanging heavy at his sides. "I-I don't know what else to do, man."

Gun no longer pointed at his face, Joel approaches the man, stopping when he's within arms reach. Up close, he can see the dismal state the guy is in -- sunken cheeks and bloodshot eyes, tattered clothing hanging on a thin frame. Joel places a hand on his bony shoulder.

"I can help you," he says. The man looks up, a brief glimmer of hope flashing in his eyes. Joel watches the slow realization, the way his brain catches up to what's just happened, a choked noise spilling from his dry lips.

Joel tugs his knife from the man's gut and steps back, watching as he collapses to the ground. Desperate hands smear the blooming red stain across his abdomen. Joel circles the man, positioning himself at his back, and pulls him close with a hand slapped over his mouth.

"I'll take good care of her," he whispers before dragging his knife across his neck in one clean slice. The man twitches once before growing limp and Joel releases him, body hitting the forest floor with a dull thud. Not one to waste, Joel gathers anything of use from his person.

Something catches the light against his neck. Curious, Joel tugs the bloodstained neck of his t-shirt to the side, finding a silver chain. He pulls, revealing the length of it.

A cross.

The clasp snaps with a sharp tug and Joel stuffs it in his pocket. Standing and shouldering his bag once more, he begins his walk back towards the cabin.

You're running as fast as your legs will carry you, lungs and limbs burning with the effort. You made the mistake of not listening to your dad when he'd told you stay where you were, to stay hidden, that he'd come back. Your nerves had gotten the best of you and you decided that you would catch up with him, but you didn't know which direction he'd gone. You figured you would travel a little ways and see if you could find him and if you didn't do so quickly, you'd rush back to the cabin and wait, just as he told you.

That's when the men saw you, two large figures with rifles that reminded you of FEDRA soldiers slung across their backs.

You duck behind a thick tree to catch your breath. You can hear voices calling out through the forest above the rush of blood in your ears, taunting tones carrying through the air.

"C'mon out, pretty girl!"

You chance a peek out from your hiding spot, only catching a brief glimpse of one man through the trees.

"Where ya hidin', sweet thing?"

His voice sounds far away and that gives you the courage to move forward, a tentative dash for another tree.

“I might be nicer to ya if you just come on out, but if I have to hunt ya down…well…you know what a hunter does to its prey, don’tcha?”

You press your hand over your mouth, muffling the cry that claws its way up your throat. You start to run again, faster, not caring if he can hear you so long as you're able to maintain that distance, hoping that if you can outrun them for long enough, he'll just give up and then maybe you can find your--

You crash into something, the world sliding out from under you and the breath rushing from your lungs as you land on your back with a pained shout. A hand wraps around your ankle, pulling you across the rough ground before you have the chance to recover.

"Gotcha," a man says, the voice different from the one that had been taunting you before. A figure stands over you, a foot on either side of your hips, looking down at you with a sinister smile. "Pretty little prize, huh?"

You twist your body, scrambling away from him. He laughs, following after you with unhurried strides.

“Now, don’t play hard to get,” he admonishes. A hand wraps around your ankle and he drags you toward him, kicking and screaming. Your foot connects with some fleshy part of him and he curses.

“You little fuckin’ cunt,” he hisses, dropping your foot. He kicks you, heavy boot colliding with soft flesh and bone, a sharp pain blossoming in your side, shooting down to your very marrow. You curl in on yourself, wounded prey trying to protect its most vulnerable parts.

A shot rings out, the sound startling in the relative quiet of the forest. You sit up, sudden movement making you light headed, and it takes you a long moment to register the scene before you.

The man that had been chasing you, the one that had caught you, the one that had hurt you on the surface but planned to do far worse, lies on the ground, eyes wide open but unseeing. Above him stands your savior, an older man with gray streaked dark curls and tan skin, broad shoulders and hard brown eyes. He reminds you of a painting you saw once in a book your dad owned, long before the outbreak.

“Death On A Pale Horse,” he explained when you showed him the painting that caught your eye. “Based on the Book of Revelations. You remember that one, right?”

“Yeah.”

“This one,” — he pointed to the central figure, a dark creature on a white horse — “is Death. And this one” — he pointed to a figure on the right that rides a dark brown horse, the dark colors making him blend among the horrors breaking from the sky behind him — “would be famine. You can see the emaciated man below him.”

“What about the other two?” You asked.

“The one of the red horse would be war.”

You pointed to the remaining figure, a man with dark curls and a determined expression. “And the white horse?”

Your dad paused. “Conquest. Pestilence. The Antichrist. The first horseman of the apocalypse.”

The man before you today looks like that figure on the white horse and despite his choice to rescue you from one horror, you fear he may be something far worse.

The man kneels and you flinch away from him. He sighs and says, “I ain’t goin’ to hurt you.”

“Who are you?” You ask, voice weak, throat on fire.

“My name is Joel,” he says. “I want to help you.”

“How do I know you weren’t with those other guys?” Your eyes grow wide and you rush to stand on shaky legs. “Wait, there’s another—“

“He won’t be an issue,” Joel assures you, wrapping a steadying arm around your waist. “C’mon.”

“I can’t—“

“Men like those two ain’t the only things in the forest to worry about, and I’m afraid we can’t sit around and find out. That gun shot could send a horde runnin’.”

“Wait!” You snap, pulling out of his grasp. He holds his hands up, as if in surrender, or maybe like he’s approaching a wounded animal. You’re not sure which. “My dad is out there. H-he went to figure out where to go from here. We were in a cabin…” Your voice trails off. “I told him I would wait for him.”

Joel’s eyes are soft as he says, “We need to get ourselves to safety. I can send someone out to look for your dad first thing in the mornin’.”

“Send someone?”

“There’s a group of us, down in the valley. Survivors, like you.”

“Really?” Relief washes over you, eclipsing even the ache in your belly and the burn in your throat and the pain in your muscles. “How far?”

“With the state you’re in, probably about a two hour hike.”

You don’t have much choice but to go with him, do you?

“Okay.”

“Where’re you comin’ from?” Joel asks, glancing over his shoulder at you. You’ve been following quietly behind him, head down and eyes fixed on the ground.

“Denver,” is all you offer in response. He knew that much already. He wants to know more.

Maybe he has to give more first.

“‘M from Texas, originally. Was in a QZ in Boston for a while before makin’ my way out here.”

“Why’d you come out here?” You ask.

“Had a friend once tell me, ‘Save who you can save’,” he says.

“What does that mean?” You ask.

“You’ll see.”

Joel had mentioned survivors, but you're shocked to discover that just past a wooden sign proclaiming WELCOME TO CRESTONE in chipped yellow paint, a whole town is tucked away, surrounded by a wooden gate that opens for you as you approach. You feel the weight of curious eyes as you walk through a town square, Joel's palm between your shoulder blades steering you towards a more residential area until you reach a two story adobe home.

Once inside, you’re led upstairs to a sparsely decorated bedroom, a large bed in the center with a faded quilt tucked around the mattress with precision and a dresser against one wall covered in yellowed wallpaper. Joel gestures for you to sit, kneeling on the wood floor in front of you to work on the laces of your sneakers.

“What—“

“You need rest,” he says, removing your shoes. He looks up at you, brown eyes full of concern. Your stomach flips.

“But—“

“No,” he says sternly. He stands and walks to the side of the bed, tugging the quilt free and folding it down. “I have duties to return to, but you’ll be safe here.”

You don’t have it in you to continue arguing. You haven’t seen a comfortable bed in more than two days and the exhaustion catches up to you in one fell swoop, eyes halfway to shut as you crawl into the space Joel’s made for you between the sheets. He pulls the covers over you, the warmth of a hand smoothing across your cheek the last thing you feel before falling asleep.

You wake to the sun high in the sky, streaming through the open window of a room that you don't recognize. You push yourself to sitting, your ribs protesting the movement and your head pulsing just behind your eyes. Your mouth is unbearably dry, so much so that you start coughing, further aggravating your bruised ribs.

"There's water on the nightstand," a voice says, startling you.

You look to your left, finding a young girl sitting in a wooden chair by your bed. Her dark hair is pulled back from her face, wayward pieces falling across pale skin. Her sharp brown eyes watch you with an intensity that makes your skin crawl.

“I’m Ellie,” she says. You mumble your own name.

“Did Joel save you?” Ellie asks.

“Uh—“

“He must have. That’s what he does,” she continues, cutting you off.

“Ellie!” A familiar deep voice calls out. Her eyes go wide and she scrambles from her seat, rushing for the door. Heavy footsteps climb the stairs, Joel appearing in the open doorway. He looks at her with a stern expression, mouth pressed in a thin line. “Thought I told you not to come up here.”

The look on her face isn’t fear, like her reaction would have led you to believe. No, she looks up at Joel with reverence as she says, “Sorry. Wanted to see her.”

Joel nods. “Head to the mess hall. I’ll bring her down shortly.”

Ellie casts a lingering look in your direction before disappearing through the doorway.

“Sorry about her,” Joel says. He takes a seat on the edge of the mattress. “How’re you feelin’?”

“Could be better,” you say honestly. “How long was I asleep for?”

“A little more than a day.”

Your eyes go wide. “My dad—“

“We’ve sent out a search party. No luck yet, I’m afraid,” he says. You curl into yourself a bit at the news, shoulders tight with worry. He reaches forward and places a hand on top of your own where it rests on the sheets. “You should get some food. I brought you some new clothes, too. I’ll let you get dressed and we can go down to the mess hall.“

He leaves the room before you respond and you drag the pile of clothes closer to you, finding a neatly folded t-shirt, jeans, underwear, and socks. It takes you a long moment to work your way out of your dirty clothes, your movements slow to not aggravate your injuries. You keep your bra on, pulling the clean shirt over your head, followed by the jeans. You're thrilled to be wearing something that's not caked with dirt and sweat.

You're working on putting your socks on when there's a knock at the door, Joel entering when you call out for him to come in. He smiles at you.

"There, that's better," he says. "C'mon. Let's get down to dinner."

You follow him out of the room and down the stairs. The first floor of the home has a kitchen that opens up to a living and dining area, the space filled with worn mismatched furniture. The walls are wood paneled and there's a massive stone fireplace with elk antlers mounted above it.

The sun is setting as you step outside and get your first real look at the town as its bathed in gold. Narrow residential streets give way to wider roads once you reach the town center, where commercial buildings are pressed together advertising long forgotten businesses, their windows dark.

"That's the butcher up there," Joel says, pointing to one of the wooden buildings. "He gets the meat from the traps prepped for us." He points to another building with a sign that says RESTAURANT. "That's the bakery."

"A butcher and a bakery?" You ask. "Do you have electricity here?"

"Sure do. Solar panels, just outside the gate."

You continue walking through the town until you come up on a large white building, people entering and exiting through a set of thick double doors. The shadow of a cross remains above the door, perhaps scorched by the sun where a crucifix once sat. People welcome Joel as he enters, heads turning in their curiosity. You press a little closer to Joel's side.

The large room is bursting with noise and activity -- a flurry of conversations, the clink of cutlery, and laughter. You've not seen anything like it before, the mentality in the QZ not conducive to camaraderie. You can count on one hand the number of people you would have considered friends within those walls, and even that was a stretch. You and Joel join a line of people retrieving plates of food from a single window.

"How long has all of this been here?" You ask, gesturing to the room. He looks around proudly.

"Ellie and I came across this town on accident after we went through hell leavin' Boston. The folks here set up their own quarantine zone and with bigger fish to fry, FEDRA sort of left ‘em alone. They were kind enough to take us in," he says. "After that, more people started showin' up lookin' for safety. Lots of people who escaped the QZs or had been on their own for a while and were tired of runnin'."

"Ellie says you save people," you comment, taking a step forward as the line moves. "What's that mean?"

"Every flock needs a shepherd."

You’re at the front of the line now, standing in front of the window. A woman appears, her face lighting up when she sees Joel.

“Joel! How are you?” She asks, leaning onto the ledge. Behind her you can see people moving quickly and efficiently around a stainless steel kitchen, large pots of food simmering on the stovetop.

“Well enough,” he says. He places a hand on your shoulder. “We have a new guest. Make her plate nice and full for me?”

“Of course.”

She gathers a plate from a precarious stack, loading it with a heaping pile of food ranging from mashed potatoes and stew to colorful vegetables that you haven’t seen in ages, not since before the outbreak when you were seven and your dad would make dinner rather than pass you a ration package. You’re speechless as she hands you the plate with a kind smile, a mumbled thank you the best you can manage to show your gratitude.

Joel is handed a plate as well and you follow him to a table where Ellie sits next to a man with white hair, her plate already empty in front of her. The man looks up at Joel as you approach, his expression closed off and wary.

“Michael,” Joel says in greeting, jaw ticking. You take a seat beside Ellie, who to your surprise moves closer to you, arm brushing yours. “You botherin’ Ellie?”

The man, Michael, shakes his head. “No, sir. We were just having a little talk.”

“What about?” Joel sits on the opposite side of the table. He rips his bread roll in half.

“Just some concerns I was having.”

“You bring your concerns to me. Not to her.”

The two men stare at each other, the tension thick and impossible to ignore. Finally, Michael gets up, leaving the table without another word. Ellie’s shoulder’s lose their tension and Joel catches her eye, the two of them seeming to have an entire conversation in just a look.

The moment passes and Joel’s features relax, a smile tilting the corners of his lips as he returns his attention to you and gestures to your plate.

“Dig in,” he says.

Joel walks you back to his home after dinner, the sky now dark. Ellie’s already closed herself in her room by the time the two of you return, having left the mess hall before you had finished eating.

“Tired again?” Joel asks when you yawn, mouth open wide as you stretch your arms above your head.

Your expression is sheepish as you say, “A little bit.”

“That’s to be expected,” he assures you. “You fought a hard fight. It’s okay to relax now. I’ve got you.”

“Thank you.” Your fingers tangle in the hem of the t-shirt he’d given you earlier. “I don’t know if I’ve said that already.”

“You’re welcome. Come on, let’s get you back upstairs. You can use the shower and get to bed.”

“Oh my god, a shower sounds amazing.”

He shows you the bathroom and helps you get the water running. Once he shows you where to find a towel, you smile gratefully before shutting the door on him.

Dismissed, Joel makes his way to Ellie’s room, knocking on the door. She answers quickly, opening up only enough for him to see her face.

“Yeah?” She asks.

“Can I come in?”

She rolls her eyes but opens the door further, allowing him inside. Her room is smaller than his but far more decorated, pages ripped out of old magazines and comic books tacked to the wall. She takes a seat on her single bed, folding her legs beneath her.

“What did Michael talk to you about?” He asks. She shrugs her shoulders. Joel bites back a sigh. Sometimes he forgets what it was like to reason with a teenage girl. “Ellie.”

“He said” — she pauses, scratching at her wrist in the way that she will when she’s anxious — “he said that you were full of shit. That your fucked up ceremony isn’t helping any of them.”

Joel’s teeth grind together. “That all?”

“Called me a stupid kid for following what you say,” she mumbles. “Said everyone in town was stupid for believing you.”

“Thank you for tellin’ me,” he says. Rage burns in his veins as he turns to leave.

“What are you gonna do?” Ellie asks as he reaches the door.

“I’m goin’ to teach him a lesson.”

He pulls the door shut behind him, tilting his head against the wood with a sigh. The click of a latch down the hall precedes your quiet, “Joel?”

Joel turns to face you, surprised to find you standing just outside the bathroom door with a towel tucked around your body. Water glistens on your skin in the low light, drawing his eyes down your neck and across your chest. He clears his throat.

“Everythin’ alright?” He asks.

“Yeah, everything is fine,” you murmur. “I…could I get some new clothes?”

“Of course, should’a given you some before you showered. Sorry about that.”

Joel walks past you, entering his bedroom and approaching the dresser. He tugs the top drawer open, full of clothing he’d gathered while you’d been asleep for more than a day. He piles together another t-shirt, sleep pants, and underwear, setting them on the bed for you.

You’re standing in the doorway when he finishes and he fights the urge to go to you, to pull you close, to run his wretched hands over your body like he’s wanted to since he first saw you in the forest.

He doesn’t, though. Not yet. You still have much to learn.

“Here you go,” he says. “Some more stuff in the drawers for you if you need it.”

Joel leaves you to get ready for bed, shutting the door behind him. He heads downstairs to grab what he’ll need, essentials shoved in a bag thrown over his shoulder before venturing off into the night.

Only a few lights continue to illuminate windows as Joel walks through the residential area. The house he approaches at the end of a street is already dark, quiet beyond the wood door that he knocks on three times. The door opens slowly, Michael appearing in the small space.

“What?” He grunts.

“Come take a walk,” Joel says. Michael rolls his eyes, moving to shut the door but Joel’s boot blocks his effort. “I ain’t askin’, Michael.”

“Oh, yeah? What are you going to do?” He challenges. Joel throws his weight against the door, catching Michael by surprise enough for him to step into the house.

Joel throws an elbow into the man’s gut, making him double over with a groan. He circles behind him, kicking the back of his knee to send him to the ground. He pulls a length of chain from his pocket, looping it around Michael’s neck and pulling the ends.

Michael struggles, clawing at the garotte and thrashing wildly, but Joel holds strong. He tightens his grip further until Michael’s fight becomes sluggish, lack of oxygen finally causing him to go limp.

Joel releases the chain and Michael’s body slumps to the ground. He removes his backpack, digging through the contents until he finds a rusted pair of handcuffs that he uses to bind Michael’s arms behind his back. Next, he places a strip of duct tape over his mouth.

When he wakes, Joel will lead him out past the gate. He will find an unassuming home that rests outside the boundary of Crestone. He will open the hidden doors of the cellar, the ones covered in a layer of leaves and grass. From the darkness he will hear the echo of desperate groans and the rattle of chains and the angry attempts to break free from bindings. He will lead Michael down the dirt steps, the smell of rot and fear and death clawing at his olfactory nerves.

He will place a burlap bag over a struggling Michael’s head and the man will beg and plead in words muffled by tape. Then, Joel will offer him for judgment.

A hand on you shoulder shakes you awake, the room still mostly dark when you manage to open your eyes. You groan, pulling the quilt up over your head.

“C’mon, we gotta get to breakfast,” Ellie says. The cover gets yanked down and she gives you a mischievous grin.

“Where’s Joel?” You ask, sitting up slowly. She shrugs.

“Probably there already.”

You swing your legs over the side of the bed and stand, stretching your arms up. You grab the same jeans and socks from the day before, changing into them quickly and sitting down on the floor to pull your sneakers on. Ellie watches you, her foot tapping impatiently.

“You can go without me if you’re in a rush,” you offer. She shakes her head.

“I’m fine,” she says quickly. “You ready?”

“Sure.”

You follow her out of the house, her clipped pace difficult to keep up with due to your lingering pain. As the sun starts to rise and you pass by more of the houses, you notice something peculiar about some of them.

“What’s that?” You ask, pausing in front of one the houses. There’s a streak of what looks like dark red paint across the top of the door. Ellie doubles back and stands beside you.

“Protection,” she says.

“From what?”

She shifts her weight from foot to foot, uncomfortable with your line of questioning. Rather than answer, she walks away, leaving you to catch up to her or be left behind.

As the two of you start to walk through the square, there’s a rush of people around you. Shouting can be heard up ahead as a crowd comes into view, gathered around the front of the mess hall building. People press in close together, craning their necks to see over each other and catch a glimpse of whatever spectacle has their attention.

Ellie pushes through the crowd and you follow close on her heels until she manages to break through the other side of the wall of people. You catch glimpses of something writhing on the ground, something animal but not quite, something failed and fetid and foul. Another peek affords you a view of an arm littered with bite marks shaped by blunt teeth, deep gouges into their skin that shine red with blood and fester with disease.

Joel appears, stepping around the side of the building. The whispers cease, the crunch of Joel’s boots and pained groans the only noise to be heard in the stale air.

His dark eyes scan the crowd. People shrink back from his gaze, pressing closer to each other for relief. He reaches down, curling his fingers into the burlap material and yanking it off to reveal a man, familiar and yet not recognizable. Unseeing eyes, ashen skin, and dark red veins now the hallmark characteristics of the man you now remember as the one who had been talking to Ellie in the dining hall.

Joel draws a gun from his back, aiming it at Michael’s head. “Let this be a lesson,” he says, pulling the trigger.

The shot rings out, making you jump. The agonized sounds come to abrupt halt and his body goes limp, eyes still open as blood blooms on the ground around him.

“No blood spilled. No blood saved,” Joel says. You look up from the horrible scene and meet his hard gaze. You step back, turning and shoving your way through the crowd.

Then, you run.

You’re frantically shoving clothing into your bag when a door slams downstairs and heavy footsteps climb the stairs at a quick pace. You can feel the burn of Joel's eyes on your back, his presence in the room thick and cloying as you refuse to turn around, even when he murmurs your name.

He moves closer, a hand on your shoulder prompting you to turn to break the connection. He holds his hands up in surrender, taking a step back as he says, "Let me explain."

"Explain? Explain?! How the fuck do you explain that?!" You snap.

"If you'll just listen--"

"There's nothing you could possibly say that will--"

"Ellie is immune!" He shouts. Your words die on the tip of your tongue, lost to ether as you stare at Joel.

"W-what do you mean? Immune?" You ask.

He takes a deep breath. "I told you what my friend said. 'Save who you can save'. The first person I saved was Ellie."

"I helped her out of Boston, kept her safe, nearly lost my life if it meant keepin' her alive," He continues. "That's what I offer here."

"So you think you're....what? Some kind of god? That you can grant immunity?"

He huffs a laugh, the noise devoid of any humor. "God abandoned his worst experiment in their time of need. There is no god anymore, just the poor creatures he left behind. Someone had to take up the mantle."

"But how?"

"The ceremony," he says.

"That’s not a fucking answer, Joel!” You shout. “What fucking ceremony?!”

“Blood spilled for blood saved. You can’t make it in this world without givin’ your everythin’ first.” He lifts the bottom of his shirt, just enough to reveal a jagged scar to the right of his belly button, shiny scar tissue disrupting smooth tan skin. “I did this for Ellie. Now everyone else has to do it for themselves.”

“I don’t…I don’t understand.” You take a small step closer to inspect the wound, raising your hand and reaching out with a tentative touch. Joel inhales sharply as you run your fingers across the puckered flesh.

His hand wraps around your wrist, pulling your hand up and holding it against his chest. “It’ll be easier to show you, okay? There’s a ceremony in a couple days.”

“I don’t—“

“You’re just afraid because this is somethin’ new, but I promise you that you got nothin’ to be scared of. I’ll take care of you.” He lifts a hand to your face, tilting your chin with his thumb. “I just need you to trust me.”

His eyes are honest, earnest, pleading with you to believe him and the longer you search them, the more truth you seem to find. He will take care of you. You just know it.

“Okay.”

Dinner is served early on the day of the ceremony, the room buzzing with excited conversation. You haven’t seen Joel much the last few days, just passing glimpses, and Ellie says it’s because he has a lot to prepare for. Tonight there’s a woman at his side wearing a white dress that flows to the floor, black hair braided down her back. She smiles at Joel, hanging on every word you can’t hear. It makes your stomach clench in a weird way when her hand curls around his bicep and her head leans against his shoulder.

“That’s Marcy. She’s volunteered for the ceremony,” Ellie says. She’s sitting across from you, a smirk on her lips. “S’why she’s been hanging around Joel the last few days. Joel’s gotta prepare her.”

“Oh,” is all you manage to reply, picking at the vegetables on your plate. “What does…what does he do? To prepare her.”

She shrugs. “Dunno.”

You glance at the pair. Joel leans in close to the woman, whispering into her ear. Your fingernails dig into the meat of your palm, your hands curled into tight fists beneath the table. He stands, a hand on the woman’s shoulder as he calls the people to attention, voices fading until silence envelops the room.

“Tonight,” Joel says, “another is to be saved. And we will all bear witness to the gift of deliverance that only self-sacrifice can grant.”

It’s only a few words, but the power in them is palpable as you glance around the room at the entire town watching him with rapt attention. His eyes meet yours.

“Save who you can save,” he intones. A chill runs down your spine.

“Save who you can save,” the town echoes back.

The sun is already low on the horizon, twilight casting a soft glow on the scene. You stand at the back of the crowd, watching as Joel leads Marcy onto a raised wooden platform. Another man joins them, passing something wrapped in cloth into Joel’s outstretched hands.

“The thing about the world today,” Joel says, unwrapping the cloth to reveal a large knife, “is that there ain’t a single guarantee.” He looks out over the crowd. “Except here, within these walls. Why? Because here you’ll make the greatest sacrifice and earn the greatest reward.”

He begins to pace the length of the platform, knife in hand. “Givin’ your blood in exchange for your safety? That doesn’t sound so bad, right?” The people around you nod their heads in agreement. “You’ve seen what that sacrifice can do. I did it for Ellie. I did it for myself. And tonight—“ he places a hand on Marcy’s shoulder “—another has made the choice to earn that gift of protection.”

A cheer erupts, spreading through the crowd through shouts and applause. You find yourself joining them, clapping your hands together as you continue to watch Joel.

“Marcy,” Joel says. “What brings you here today?”

“No blood spilled, no blood saved,” she recites dutifully.

“Are you afraid?” He asks.

“No,” she says.

“Why?”

“Because I trust in your protection.”

Joel smiles at her, beaming with pride, and that knot in your stomach from earlier returns with a vengeance. You want him to look at you like that.

He stands in front of her, blocking her from view with his body. A hush falls over the crowd and from the silence erupts an anguished scream. You flinch, the sound piercing and painful and petrifying, though it seems to have taken nobody else by surprise.

Another scream as he jerks his arm back, the knife in his hand now stained with red that slides down the blade, dripping to the wood beneath his feet. He steps to the side and you can see the woman now, her hands pressed to her belly. Crimson blooms beneath her hands, marring her pretty white dress and leaching the color and vitality from her face. She drops to her knees and so does Joel, who wraps an arm around her shoulders and gently guides her until she’s lying on her back. He holds her hand and smooths her hair from her face as she just repeats, “Thank you.”

Slowly, the strength in her voice fades. Her arm goes limp in his grasp, dropping to the floor with a dull thud as her eyes flutter shut. Joel whistles sharply, three men rushing up the platform and lifting the girl into their arms, careful not to jostle her too much. Joel remains kneeling, his head turning to scan the crowd.

“We are born covered in blood,” he says. “It gives you protection from the outside world when you’re wrenched from the womb. And it will protect you now as it is wrenched from you.”

He steps off the platform and walks past the crowd, heading for the residential street. Everyone shuffles forward, moving en masse like sheep following their shepherd or cattle to the slaughter. You’re led to one of the smaller homes and you watch as Joel smooths the flat of the blade across his hand, gathering blood in his palm.

He places his palm on the door, smearing the blood across the faded blue paint. When he’s done, he turns to face the crowd.

“Marcy has earned her protection. Those of you among us that have not yet made your sacrifice, may you return home this evenin’ and realize that each passin’ day is a wasted opportunity for your salvation.” His serious expression softens as he smiles. “No blood spilled.”

“No blood saved,” the crowd says.

To your surprise, the words fall easily from your lips.

Joel shuts the door quietly behind him. He’s just finished checking on Marcy and was pleased to find that her wound has been dressed and she’s recovering well. At the kitchen sink he runs the water as hot as he can tolerate and scrubs his hands clean.

He can hear faint footsteps upstairs, the sound of your pacing back and forth in his bedroom. He’s pleased that you stayed through the entire ceremony, didn’t run away filled with fear or disgust like you had watching him make an example out of Michael.

There’s hope for you yet.

Joel dries his hands on a towel and heads upstairs. He glances at Ellie’s room out of habit, though he knows it’s empty. She likes to help out after the ceremony, usually sticking beside the town nurse, Shelly, as she monitors the person who participated in the ceremony over night.

The door to his bedroom is shut but he can see that the light is on, the glow of it seeping out from the gap beneath the door. He knocks, three sharp raps of his knuckles, and waits.

You pull the door open, and Joel is once again struck by how much he wants you, how much he’s craved you since the first time he saw you. You look up at him with wide eyes but he doesn’t sense any fear as you pull the door open further and step back to let him enter.

“You doin’ okay?” He asks, shutting the door quietly behind him. You’re standing with your arms wrapped around yourself, nodding quietly. Joel moves closer, tentatively reaching out to tilt your chin up so that he’s looking into your eyes. “Talk to me.”

“I….,” your voice trails off. You take a breath. “I want that protection.”

He was hoping you would say that. Relief floods through him.

“I can’t do that,” he says. Your brows pinch together, hurt flashing across your features. “I won’t have your blood on my hands.”

“But—“

“Listen to me—“ his hands frame your face, thumbs smoothing over the high points of your cheeks “—you’re meant for somethin’ different here.”

“Something different?” You repeat. You shake your head slightly. “I don’t understand.”

“From the moment I saw you, I knew I couldn’t let you lose a drop,” he whispers. “You don’t need to bleed, sweetheart. Not like them. I’ll protect you myself.”

Your mouth drops open the slightest bit, drawing Joel’s gaze. He slides his thumb across your bottom lip, mesmerized by the softness of it. There’s not much about his life the last twenty or so years that he would call soft.

There was his brother, Tommy, even though they couldn’t see eye to eye and had to part ways. His daughter, Sarah, before the outbreak. She took care of him, made sure he took his vitamins and packed his lunch and didn’t miss a parent-teacher conference. She was light and joy, his heart outside of his body, and she was ripped from his grasp.

There was Tess, who was not a soft person but was a soft place to land among the carnage. Bill, ornery though he was, and Frank, arguably his better half. They were a breath of normalcy, even when Bill had a gun trained on him. Ellie, once she quit being a pain in the ass and wormed her way into his heart with her promise to follow him wherever he went.

And now there was you.

“Will you let me do that?” Joel asks. “Protect you?”

You lift your hands, delicate fingers wrapping around his wrists. He wonders if you can feel the rapid beat of his heart, his pulse pounding beneath your grip. Finally, after a long moment, you whisper, “Yes.”

Joel captures your lips with his, swallowing your gasp of surprise. You’re tentative, a bit clumsy with your movements as you kiss back and he pulls away, leaning his forehead to yours.

“I-I’m sorry,” you murmur. “I’ve never—“

“Don’t worry, baby, I’ll take care of you.”

While his words don’t stop your pulse from racing, they do calm your nerves the slightest bit. It’s not that you’ve never been interested in sex, there was just never a good opportunity. Going through puberty in an apocalypse where a militant government faction monitors your every move in exchange for basic necessities wasn’t exactly conducive to forming intimate relationships.

While you’re lost in your thoughts, Joel moves you backwards until your legs hit the mattress and he urges you to sit down. He kneels in front of you, working on the laces of your sneakers, removing them and setting them to the side. He looks up at you as he removes your socks and you’re not sure if you're supposed to find the sight of him kneeling at your feet as sexy as you do, but a rush of warmth rolls through you all the same.

He runs his palms up your legs, across your thighs, until his fingertips find the waist of your jeans, popping the button of the fly and pulling the zipper down.

“Lift your hips a bit, sweetheart,” he says, working the denim down and off your legs, tossing them aside. His hands return to your thighs, goosebumps erupting along their path to your hips.

“No one’s touched you here?” He asks, here being the soft skin of your inner thigh that his thumbs sweep across. You shake your head. He moves higher, a featherlight touch over the elastic of your underwear that makes you gasp. “What about here?”

“N-no,” you manage to whisper. He smiles at you, the same proud smile he’d given Marcy that you were so desperate to have for yourself.

“Good girl,” he murmurs. He kisses the inside of your knee quickly before sitting up higher, reaching up to lift your shirt up, tugging it over your head and dropping it onto the growing pile of your clothing.

“Lie back for me,” Joel commands. You shift up the mattress and follow his instruction, bringing your arms up to cover your exposed breasts. He makes a dissatisfied click with his tongue, pulling your arms away as he crawls up the mattress to settle between your legs.

“None of that,” he admonishes, planting your hands by your head. He kisses your lips again, butterflies erupting in your stomach when his tongue tangles with yours, hot and demanding. He palms one of your breasts, hands rough on the delicate skin. “This is mine, do you understand?”

Joel brings his mouth to your breast, tongue swirling over your stiff nipple. You cry out, the foreign sensation making more heat rush through you, leaving you throbbing between your thighs. He looks up at you through his lashes as he sucks your nipple between his lips, releasing it with a lewd pop.

“Mine to touch,” he says, leaning on one arm to trail his fingers down your stomach. “Mine to kiss.” His lips trace the same heated path. “Mine to protect.”

When he reaches your underwear, he pulls back. “Look at that,” he murmurs, thumb rubbing across the gusset, making you whimper and squirm. “You’ve soaked your panties, sweetheart.”

Your face feels hot with embarrassment. “‘M sorry,” you mumble.

“Sorry? Ain’t nothin’ you need to be sorry about,” he says with a chuckle. He sits up, working your only remaining barrier between you down your legs. He spreads your legs with his hands on your thighs. “Goddamn, you look so pretty, baby.”

“Really?” You ask. His answering grin is wolfish.

“So pretty,” he repeats. He settles on his belly, face so close to your pussy you can feel the warmth of his breath against your heated flesh. “Gotta get you ready.”

Your response to the question is cut off with a high pitched moan as Joel runs his tongue through your folds, circling your clit with broad strokes. You try to close your legs against the sensation but his strong hands keep your thighs pinned down near the mattress.

He groans as he sets a slow and measured pace, alternating attention to your clit with dipping his tongue inside of you, dragging your essence from the source. Your hands clench in the sheets, chasing and retreating from the overwhelming sensation in equal measure.

There’s a blunt pressure that turns into a slight pinch as Joel slips a finger into your tight heat. Your head tilts back with a high keening noise and you’re panting, desperate for breath as he moves his hand in tandem with his tongue.

One finger becomes two that thrust and curl and part inside of you, stretching you in unfamiliar ways. It feels good, and all you want is more, more, more.

Joel’s hand moves quickly and he sucks on your clit, swirling his tongue around the sensitive bundle of nerves until that flood of relief that you’ve only accomplished a handful of times on your own washes over you, your back arching sharply off the mattress as you shout his name like a prayer to the heavens.

His motions slow to a stop and he leaves the bed. You hear the clink of a belt and the rustle of clothing being removed before his weight returns between your legs, a new heat to be felt against your flushed skin with his clothes no longer in the way. With shaky hands you reach up to touch him, starting at his shoulders.

You trail your hands across his warm tan skin, down his hard chest and softer belly. That scar, the one that frightened you before, leaves you breathless as you run your fingers over it now. He’s so strong, so powerful, and he wants you. Wants to protect you so that you don’t know that same pain.

“Joel,” you whisper. He leans forward, hands on the mattress beside your head. He kisses you, slow and all encompassing. You can feel the hard length of his sliding through the mess he’s made of you and you gasp.

“Let me make one thing clear,” he says, face serious, “there ain’t any goin’ back from this. You’re mine. You got that?”

“I trust you,” you reply. Your response earns you a deep groan from the man, a kiss to your forehead that precedes the blunt head of his cock pressing to your soaked entrance.

His cock is thicker, much thicker, than his fingers were and you whine at the intrusion. His shushes you, peppering your face with soothing kisses.

“I don’t think—“

“You’re doin’ so good, sweetheart, I know you can handle it,” Joel says. “Take a deep breath, just a little more.”

Tension gives way, a sharp pinch that turns into an ache as Joel presses his hips firmly against yours. He kisses your neck and trails his nose across your sweat damp skin, holding still as you adjust to his girth.

You shift your hips the slightest bit and Joel’s moan echoes your gasp. “Tell me I can move,” he begs, another desperate kiss pressed to your lips. “Please, baby.”

There’s something heady about the power you have in this brief moment, a man like Joel begging you for something when he’s used to having everything. You nod and that’s all the encouragement he needs to draw back slowly, that fullness leaving you inch by inch, before thrusting sharply.

It’s unlike any experience you’ve had before — the way his body moves with yours, the flex of his muscles above you, the intense look in his eyes each time he presses inside of you.

“Made for me,” he murmurs. “Mine.”

“Yours,” you agree, moaning as each drag of his cock presses against a tender spot inside of you that has your stomach tightening rapidly.

His effort doubles, hips slamming hard enough to make the headboard bang against the wall. You dig your nails into his back, watch the clench of his jaw against the sting, and moan his name as you succumb to the feeling of free falling into bliss, clenching around his cock.

“That’s it, sweetheart, fuck,” he growls, hips stilling against yours as warmth pulses inside of you, his mouth dropped open on a groan of your name.

Joel takes a moment to catch his breath before withdrawing from you. He reaches his hand between your legs, pressing his fingers into your swollen pussy as you gasp.

He holds those fingers up, the light catching on the red staining them.

Perhaps you’d spilled blood for your safety after all.

You wake to the early morning light filtering through the window, a noticeable ache between your legs as you begin to stir. You’re naked, having fallen asleep in Joel’s arms last night, his lips caressing your neck until you’d drifted off and dreamt of blood and wolves. You stretch your limbs, encountering only cold sheets as you do.

As you sit up, you realize the sound of rushing water is the shower and surmise that Joel must be in there. With stiff movements you leave the warmth of the bed and approach the dresser, tugging open the top drawer to find clothing for the day.

You’re reaching for underwear when your fingers catch on something cold, metal in a sea of fabric. You pull on the object, unearthing it from its hiding spot and holding it up for inspection.

A cross, hanging from a silver chain. A chain you would tangle your fingers in as a child, a cross that a thumb would rub across as a deep, familiar voice muttered prayers.

The shower turns off and you take one last look at the crucifix before setting it back into the dark corner you’d unearthed it from.

Then, you shut the drawer.

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spookyserenades · 7 months

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Trouvaille - Chapter Ten

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; 21.9k

Trouvaille Masterlist

Trouvaille playlist

Updates on the 7th of each month

Happy autumn, everyone! I hope you enjoy this latest update. There's a little spookiness ('tis the season!) fluff, and maybe a tiny bit of angst. As per usual, I love to hear from my lovely readers, and I hope you enjoy this update!

Previous Chapter // Next Chapter

Y/N froze, letting the ghostly voice wash over long enough for the strike of terror to rock through her, before gritting her teeth and straightening up. Spinning on her heel, she wanted to get a good look at the thing that refused to leave her alone, but as her eyes scanned the secluded corner of the yard, she saw nothing but a small sparrow swooping from branch to branch.

“If I dare to what?” Y/N ground out, fed up. There was no answer to her retort, and she knew it wasn’t a very good idea to antagonize a spirit, but she couldn’t help herself.

Huffing, she knelt back down and promptly buried the spell jar, packing the earth on top of it tightly. She was not going to be intimidated by a spirit that wouldn’t even show its face, threatening her in her own backyard. Part of her wondered if she should call for Namjoon; just in case the spirit kept trying to interfere with the ritual. She gripped the bundle of rosemary harshly at the thought of the spirit moving on from threatening her to the wolf hybrid or Jeongguk at the front of the property.

Spurred on by the thought, Y/N continued to the other corner of the backyard, surprisingly staying calm and centered as she carried out her part of the ritual. Repeating the prayer continuously, she kept her mind on her hybrids, and how important it was to her to protect and keep them safe. Finally reaching the second corner she was responsible for, surrounded by wild shrubs and what appeared to be a fox’s den, Y/N swiftly buried her final spell jar without interruption from the spirit she was attempting to kick out of her life.

The air felt electrified, but not in the menacing way Y/N was expecting. To her distant delight, she could sense the wards going up successfully, and the familiar sensation of being surrounded by magic embraced her like a hug from a long-lost friend. Namjoon and Jeongguk must have been holding their own, as well, because there were two faint energies mingling with her own in the borders of the wards. As Namjoon predicted, the three of them ended up being stronger together.

Y/N trailed along the final side of the area she was protecting, before cutting through the center of the yard to the rock where she’d set up the pillar candle. Predictably, Namjoon and Jeongguk were already lingering there. Namjoon had pulled off his cardigan; the sleeves of it tied around his hips, and a thin sheen of sweat covering the golden skin of his arms on display as he crossed them over his chest. Gnawing on her lip, Y/N approached more closely, raising an eyebrow at Jeongguk’s smug expression as he pulled up his baggy black cargo pants.

“How’d it go?” Y/N began, stubbing out the rosemary bundle on the flat rock beside the candle, brushing ash off of her palms onto the material of her leggings.

“Fine. The thing was pissed though, I heard it cursing in my ear the entire time,” Jeongguk replied offhand, surprising Y/N by pulling out his new journal and scribbling some notes into it while he spoke.

“You could hear it?” Namjoon raised his eyebrows, hands coming up to rub his bare shoulders like they were sore.

“Yeah, I could hear it. I could hear it when this one first brought me to this house,” Jeongguk jutted his pen in Y/N’s direction when he said this one, sucking his lip ring into his mouth as he resumed writing. “I think this’ll do it for now. It might be worth doing the banishment at the end of the month, though, for extra insurance– since it’s so pissed at the three of us.”

“I heard it once, too,” Y/N sighed, thinking that Jeongguk was likely right– a banishment would ensure that the spirit would be removed from the property for good. “Before I buried my first jar, it threatened me.”

“What?” Namjoon seethed, reaching out to grab one of Y/N’s wrists. “Why didn’t you call for me? It threatened you?”

Surprised by the wolf hybrid’s reaction, his ears turned backwards against his skull and his teeth slightly bared, Y/N’s mouth dropped open, staring at the way Namjoon’s large hand encircled her wrist, his fingers overlapping on themselves bruisingly.

“Ouch, Joon,” Y/N chuckled, placing her free hand over his and patting the back of it for mercy from his tightened grip. He loosened up, his eyes flashing apologetically. “I thought about calling you, but I worried that it might start harassing you, too. I think we all handled it pretty well though, can’t you tell? The wards went up more quickly than I expected them to.”

Clearing his throat, Jeongguk stuck his pen behind his ear, casting a brief glance at Namjoon’s hand clasped around her wrist before nodding, a piece of his chestnut hair falling into his eyes.

“Honestly, I wasn’t so sure about the ritual when we started it. I thought that maybe it would be too simple, but it appeared to do the trick. Still, we should plan on the banishment later on. It won’t hurt,” Jeongguk crouched down, licking his thumb and forefinger before snuffing out the flame of the pillar candle.

Though Y/N hadn’t instructed him to do that, he did it properly; without blowing it out and therefore “blowing away the spirits” that helped them with the ward construction. Feeling Namjoon release her wrist slowly, Y/N watched his steely guard go back up again, the picture of calculated and collected.

“Thanks, you two, for helping me out. You did a really amazing job, I don’t think the wards would be as strong without your help,” Y/N began to pack away leftover ritual items back into her basket, taking a lungful of air and rejoicing in the lightness of its quality.

Her back was turned to the two hybrids, but she was met with no reply from either of them. Further back in the yard, Y/N could hear Hoseok loudly complaining about the increasing humidity. Grinning to herself, she began to contemplate what to do for the rest of the day– perhaps hang out with Taehyung for a bit, or maybe offer her help with the chicken coop restoration.

“I’m gonna head in now,” Y/N slung the basket of ritual items into the crook of her elbow, leveling a smile at Namjoon and Jeongguk, who were watching her carefully. “We can talk about the banishment in the future. The new moon is still a little ways away.”

Feeling a little sticky from the humidity and her romp around the yard, Y/N decided to take a nice, cool shower when she got back into the house, and maybe see what Yoongi was up to. Namjoon followed her inside, but Jeongguk remained outside, continuing to write in his journal on the picnic table with a cigarette hanging out of his mouth.

“I still wish you would have called for me after what happened,” Namjoon suddenly announced, stopping Y/N in the kitchen with his arms crossed. He looked ticked, his lips pursed and cheeks sucked in, and Y/N felt her mouth dry up at the sight of him.

“Honestly, Namjoon, I was too aggravated that the thing was threatening me to call out for you,” Y/N scratched the back of her head, wishing that Yoongi was still in the kitchen to break up the tension.

The wolf hybrid gave her an achingly slow once-over, scanning her face all the way down to her toes, Y/N’s cheeks heating up with the attention. She felt like she had to apologize to him, or beg for forgiveness, with the authority dripping off of him. Swallowing thickly, Y/N gave him a pat on his strong forearm, his eyes finding hers after studying her hand on his arm.

“Next time, I’ll call for you. I promise,” Y/N said seriously, not wanting Namjoon to be upset with her. Still appearing a touch disappointed, Namjoon’s shoulders relaxed a degree, and Y/N didn’t know whether or not he believed her.

“Hopefully there won’t be a next time,” the wolf hybrid pointed out, helping himself to a glass of iced tea from the fridge and turning his back on her.

Y/N tried her best not to gawk at his bare shoulders. Namjoon was pretty built; and though Hoseok was the one with a keen interest in exercise, Y/N wondered if the wolf hybrid had also made use of the gym in the basement. Clearing her throat, she tore her eyes from Namjoon’s broad back, feeling like a bit of a creep.

“Yeah, hopefully,” Y/N echoed distractedly, heat still pooling in her cheeks as Namjoon looked over his shoulder to stare at her quizzically. “I’m going to take a shower, so I’ll see you in a bit? Remember, we’re going to the brewery tonight!”

Namjoon hummed, the deep timbre of his voice sending goosebumps over Y/N’s skin, and she made a beeline to her bedroom to escape the wolf hybrid’s attention. Pressing a hand to her chest to calm her racing heart, she cursed herself for telling Namjoon to wear black– that tank top was lethal.

She searched through her closet for something to wear later that night, settling on a flowy pastel blue miniskirt and a lacy white cropped tank, placing it on her bed and tossing her denim jacket beside the outfit. Y/N knew if Alice came along to the brewery with them that night, she’d be dressed to the nines, and there was nothing she loved more than dressing up to go out with her friends. As the water in her shower heated up, she gave Alice a call, sorting through her scant collection of lipgloss for a selection that would go well with her outfit.

“Hey babe, how’s it going over there?” Alice picked up on the second ring, her raspy voice filling Y/N with warmth.

“It’s been great, I think they’re all really starting to adjust,” Y/N replied, peering out into the backyard for a glimpse of any of the hybrids. All she could see was Jeongguk, who was still at the picnic table and writing in his journal. “I’ve signed a few of them up for some clubs at the rec center in town, so that’ll be good now that I’m working at Judy’s.”

“Yeah? How’s my little fox hybrid? I miss him already,” Alice asked coyly, Y/N imagining her biting her lip and batting her lashes.

“Hoseok’s well. He wanted to join the rec center’s track team, so that’s what he’ll be up to soon,” Y/N responded, that tiny itch of jealousy from the cookout returning. “Hey, are you busy tonight?”

“Depends,” Alice drew out the syllables to the words, a teasing tone coloring her speech. “You know I’m always free for you, peanut.”

“Aww, Al,” Y/N giggled. “Miss Alice Santos, Boston’s prettiest and most successful poet, clearing her schedule for little old me?”

“Oh, come on, Y/N,” Alice groaned, the sound of her pouring dry cat food into Heathcliff’s bowl coming through the receiver. “Get to the point, what do you want to do? Want me to come over, we can make those boys watch Pride and Prejudice and drink White Claws?”

“Honestly, that sounds like a pretty solid Saturday night,” Y/N admitted, shedding her clothes and tossing them in the hamper as she balanced her phone between her cheek and her shoulder. “But no. You know that brewery we’ve been meaning to check out? Salem’s? Want to meet there tonight and grab some dinner and a beer flight?”

“Yeah, you had me at ‘brewery’, babe,” Alice answered, bringing a smile to Y/N’s face. “I’m assuming you’re bringing the boys? Want to meet at seven?”

“That works! Yeah, they’ll be tagging along. We don’t have much food in the house, Yoongi and I have to hit the grocery store tomorrow.”

“Oh, the sexy one with the long hair? The grill master at the cookout?” Alice teased, making Y/N squeak and flush. Hopefully Yoongi was napping in his room and couldn’t hear the first half of Alice’s statement.

“Al! Keep it together,” Y/N managed amidst a cocktail of mortification and amusement. “See you tonight, okay?”

“You bet. Gotta pick out something cute to wear, if I’m going to see you and my little fox hybrid,” Alice sang, Y/N rolling her eyes at herself in her bathroom mirror. That was, before she realized she had done the exact same thing with her own outfit.

Hanging up, Y/N hurried into the shower, rinsing the rosemary smoke off of her skin and wondering how the hell she’d find a taxi to transport eight people to and from the house. A problem for later, she supposed.

“So Tae, are you excited about the photography club on Wednesday? I heard they just re-did the darkroom,” Y/N was in the middle of rolling chocolate chip cookie dough in sesame seeds, plopping them on a baking sheet. She had time to kill until they met Alice and a pound of butter sitting in the fridge, so why the hell not.

Taehyung was sitting on a barstool across from where she worked on the island, and to her delight, was discussing some of the records he was listening to that morning with her freely. It was the most conversation she had with the Kodiak hybrid in days, and she was able to keep all of her attention on him considering the rest of the hybrids were either still outside or in their own rooms.

“Yeah, I am. I don’t know, I wanted to try something new– I’ve never taken photos before with a real camera,” Taehyung answered truthfully, his voice a low drawl as he rested his chin on his forearms, hunched over the island.

“Oh, your camera should be here by Monday! You can take a few test shots before the club on Wednesday,” Y/N sprinkled a little sea salt on top of the cookies before placing the trays in the oven, dusting stray sesame seeds on the counter into the sink. “Photography is really cool. An underrated art form. I think you’ll enjoy yourself, Tae.”

Taehyung gave her a closed mouth smile, his dark curls wild and a bit matted down from where he was wearing headphones earlier. She was relieved that Taehyung seemed to be opening himself back up to her since The Incident, hoping that perhaps he could make a friend or two once he joined the photography club.

“I think there might be a box with a vintage camera or two under the basement stairs. My grandfather used to be pretty fond of taking a million pictures of the entire family,” Y/N theorized while wiping down the counters, praying she didn’t get flour or butter on her skirt or top. “You could definitely use those for a project in the future! Experiment with different lenses and whatnot.”

“Really? Do you think they’d let me use an old camera if I wanted?” Taehyung perked up, his small ears fluttering with excitement at the thought. A light blush covered his cheeks, and Y/N couldn’t recall a time where Taehyung seemed so enthused.

“Yeah, why not? The club is for learning, fun, and expressing yourself creatively… I’m sure they’d let you try out different cameras and methods for developing photos.”

Taehyung squirmed in his seat, pushing up the sleeves of his multi-colored sweater and grinning at Y/N, with his teeth this time. It was a struggle for Y/N to not fall over seeing his toothy smile for the first time in so many days, and it was even more difficult to not race around the island and pull him in for a hug.

“What smells so good?” Came Yoongi’s gravelly voice as he strolled into the kitchen from the foyer.

“I’m making those chocolate chip cookies from Pinterest I showed you a couple days ago,” Y/N began washing the mixing bowl she had used, cautious of getting any water on her outfit. She heard Yoongi purring, and kept one eye on Taehyung, who remained on his barstool and was watching Yoongi peer into the oven.

“The brown butter sesame ones?” Yoongi’s voice was now closer to her, Y/N glancing over her shoulder to locate him.

He looked really nice– in an emerald colored sweater that picked up the green in his eyes, and a pair of black jeans. The leopard hybrid had the audacity to smirk at her, definitely able to tell that she was giving him a once-over.

“Mm-hm,” Y/N hummed, determined to not let Yoongi tease her. “I have time to kill before we go out later, and Jimin, Hoseok, and Seokjin wouldn’t let me help with repairing the coop.”

“Oh yeah?” Yoongi leaned his hip against the counter, the weight of his gaze heavy as Y/N clocked him giving her a similar once-over. To be fair, she did look pretty great, but the scrutiny made butterflies bat around in her stomach. “Why’s that?”

“They’re cutting chicken wire and taking down old splintering wood, and they didn’t want me to ‘get a splinter or get a cut’,” Y/N informed the leopard hybrid, using her fingers to make air quotes.

She thought the three hybrids outside were babying her, even with her clumsy track record, she had restored half of the old Victorian house by herself. That had to count for something– she hadn’t even injured herself once, even when she had to use a sledgehammer to knock down old cabinets in the kitchen last spring.

Shaking her head, Y/N heard Yoongi chuckling; the sound gritty and slightly rumbled. Alongside that, Taehyung was humming along to the pop song playing from her portable speaker sitting on the coffee bar, apparently not minding that Yoongi had joined them. A slight step forward, in Y/N’s book.

“Hey, Y/N…” Yoongi recovered from his amusement, surprisingly sliding onto a barstool next to Taehyung. She had to grind her teeth together to prevent her jaw from falling open. “I noticed when we were putting extra food into the garage freezer that there’s an old basketball hoop and stand in there. Can I drag it out to the driveway for practice?”

“Absolutely! You might need some help because it’s really heavy with the sand still in the stand’s base, maybe ask Jeongguk? He’s been outside all afternoon, and he’s in a good mood today,” Y/N finished wiping down the counters, the timer on her phone going off simultaneously telling her to pull the cookies from the oven.

Yoongi grimaced at the mention of the elk hybrid’s name, interlacing his elegant fingers together and leaning forward on the granite island, shooting Y/N a somewhat incredulous look. She raised her eyebrows back at him, as if to challenge him to vocalize whatever smartass retort he most definitely had swirling around in his head, before turning away and taking the cookie sheets out of the oven, the chocolate chunks still molten and bubbling.

“Nah, I think I can handle it myself,” Yoongi settled on, ears perking up as footsteps padded into the kitchen from the foyer, heavy tread and slight clumsiness– Y/N pretty much knew exactly who it was without even having to look up.

“If you say so, angel,” Y/N replied, glancing upwards and eyeing Namjoon, who entered the kitchen freshly showered and dressed in his normal earth tones, mercifully. “Hey, Joon!”

Namjoon grunted, staring at the trays of cookies Y/N had just set on the stovetop, his tail wagging behind him so quickly Y/N could feel it occasionally bat the backs of her legs. Y/N watched in horror as the wolf hybrid reached for a scalding-hot cookie, and out of reflex, she lightly swatted the back of his hand away, squeaking.

“I just took these out, you’ll burn yourself! Go sit next to Yoongi and let them cool for a few minutes,” Y/N scolded, pointing across the kitchen and registering Namjoon’s shocked expression.

There was a brief moment of an intense stare-down between them, Namjoon’s teeth slightly bared, before he heeded her directions and trudged over to the empty barstool beside the leopard hybrid. Expelling the breath she was holding, Y/N began transferring the cookies onto a wire rack, muttering to herself.

“What time are we leaving tonight?” Taehyung asked, Y/N surprised that he had remained in the room with Namjoon’s arrival.

“Uh, I think around 6:45? The brewery isn’t too far from here, and Alice is meeting us there at 7,” Y/N licked a little melted chocolate off of her thumb as she spoke, humming at the sweetness. “I think we’re going to have to take two cabs. We can’t all pile into one…”

She grabbed a few plates from the cupboard, gnawing on her lip. The idea of splitting up into two groups to get to the brewery didn’t thrill her, and by the silence that filled the kitchen at her words, it didn’t seem to thrill the hybrids either.

Y/N had an idea of who would be okay with getting in a cab without her, and who would definitely not be. Honestly, she was just hoping the outing would go well, and they wouldn’t have to deal with judgmental people– much like the asshole from Best Buy. Mulling over fantasies of punching the Best Buy man’s teeth in, Y/N placed a couple of the still-warm cookies each on the plates she set out, before absently placing the plates in front of the three hybrids seated at the island.

“What are you thinking about? You smell pissed,” Yoongi sat back in his seat, ignoring the cookie she put in front of him.

Taehyung bit his lip, nodding along with Yoongi’s accusation, Y/N forgetting that they could catch the scent of her subtle shifts in mood. Namjoon simply stared at her, chewing on his cookie with a bit of chocolate smudged over his bottom lip.

“Oh, nothing. Just recalling some jerks I’ve dealt with in the past week out in public, and praying that I won’t encounter any more tonight,” Y/N answered as truthfully as she could, knowing that if she told a bold-faced lie, they’d all be able to tell. Her response was as vague as it was honest, and Yoongi seemed to relax a bit, so she considered it a win.

“I told you, just ignore them. Not worth your time or consideration,” Yoongi tucked hair behind his ear, taking a delicate bite of his cookie. “These are really good…”

“I’ll make some more after we do our weekly grocery run. I ran out of chocolate chunks,” Y/N smiled, watching Taehyung tear off pieces of the dessert to toss into his mouth. “I gotta go out back and let everyone else know when we’re leaving later, okay? Try to save some of those for the others, Joon,” Y/N chuckled out her last statement, clocking the wolf hybrid stacking another cookie onto his plate by the stove.

Tail between his legs, the tips of Namjoon’s ears were reddened, a rumbling sound coming from the back of his throat. Taehyung actually snickered, which had Y/N doing a double-take at his shaking shoulders, her and Yoongi exchanging looks of confusion. Apparently ignoring the Kodiak hybrid’s amusement, Namjoon sat back down on his barstool beside Yoongi, diving into his second cookie silently. Y/N was quite proud of both Taehyung and Namjoon; the former was opening back up and spending more time around the other hybrids, and the latter was managing to keep his cool and ignore happenings that would typically provoke him. Once again trusting that Yoongi could keep the peace, Y/N exited the kitchen through the slider into the backyard to seek out her other four hybrids.

“That’s a lot of hybrids,” one of the cabbies, a short, middle-aged man, remarked, his eyebrows raised as he watched Jimin and Hoseok file out of the front door. “Now I get why youse called for two of us.”

Y/N pressed her lips together, choosing to bite her tongue as she realized the tone of judgment was missing from the cabbie’s voice. The other cabbie was on his phone, and from the sounds of it, was in the middle of a fight with his wife.

“I can only fit three of youse,” the cabbie not currently yelling into his cell phone jabbed his thumb towards his Toyota Prius, Y/N grimacing at his thick Boston accent.

Y/N turned on her heel to face the hybrids, all of which had finally made their ways out into the front yard. Namjoon was busy locking up the front door with the key he must have grabbed off the hook on his way out.

“Alright, who’s okay riding without me?” Y/N decided to just cut to the chase, keeping in mind the time. They were already running a bit late; Jeongguk and Hoseok took more time than she’d planned on to get ready. Granted, they both looked fantastic, but she didn’t want to keep Alice waiting too long.

Crickets.

“Um…” Y/N started to grow uncomfortable with seven pairs of eyes on her at once, each with varying amounts of skepticism painted across their faces. “On the way back, we’ll rotate? I’ll ride with whoever I didn’t on the way there?”

“I think I can manage fifteen minutes without you,” Jeongguk drawled sarcastically, immediately strolling past her and getting into the passenger’s seat of the Prius. He had to duck quite a bit to prevent knocking his antlers against the door frame, which made her snort.

“Come on, Jiminie. Let’s ride together, I want to fuck with the elk a little bit after that comment,” Hoseok grabbed Jimin by the arm, pulling him into the backseat while the poor coyote hybrid barked out complaints.

“Okay, that’s sorted out. Let’s get going,” Y/N blew hair out of her face, once again grateful that Hoseok was so clever and definitely caught onto the fact that she was getting antsy to leave.

Seokjin and Taehyung took the third row of seats in the minivan, while Yoongi and Namjoon made up the second– the wolf hybrid directly behind Y/N, where she was occupying the passenger’s seat. Y/N cringed at the cabbie’s loud cursing into his phone, feeling badly for the hybrids and their sensitive ears being subjected to all the noise pollution.

“Ey! Hey– Jan. Will you stop piercing my ears for five fucking seconds?” The cabbie hollered, lowering his phone to his shoulder as he glanced at Y/N. “Salem’s? Is that where you’re all going?”

“Yes, sir,” Y/N crossed her legs, praying for his wife on the other line. He was certainly a treat.

After fifteen excruciating minutes of listening to the cabbie argue about his sports betting “hobby” with his wife, Y/N anxiously making sure the Prius with her other three hybrids in it was in front of them the entire time, all eight of them arrived at Salem’s Brewery without too much difficulty. Y/N noticed Seokjin massaging one of his silky black ears as he exited the minivan, a pout on his lips– all that yelling must have irritated the jaguar hybrid, who Y/N could hardly remember a time would speak at an even slightly raised volume.

“See? I made it here alive,” Jeongguk greeted Y/N by the door to the brewery, which looked like an old tavern in a medieval town. The elk hybrid smirked around his cigarette, tucking his white tee shirt into his baggy black jeans. The waning, orange sunlight glittered off of the necklace her mother had given him.

“Smartass,” Y/N teased, counting heads to make sure everyone was accounted for. To their luck, Alice didn’t appear to be there yet herself, as she had told Y/N to meet her at the front of the building so they could go in together. “Take it easy with those, Jeongguk. Cigarette smoke taints your palate.”

“We’re at a brewery, Y/N, not a Michelin restaurant,” Jeongguk rolled his eyes, but heeding her warning by ashing out the cigarette in the outdoor tray.

“Stop being such a dick,” Yoongi interrupted, his nose wrinkled up in disgust as Jeongguk blew his last drag of smoke directly into the leopard hybrid’s face. Unfortunately, Y/N was also on the receiving end of the blast, too. “Disgusting. Get yourself some menthols next time, or one of those vapes teenagers use.”

“A vape? What am I, a clown?” Jeongguk crossed his arms over his chest, Y/N’s eyes dropping to his tattooed forearms. Two tattoos on the backs of them appeared to be half of an image, like if he put his forearms together, they’d make a complete symbol.

“You said it,” Yoongi retorted, his ears perking up when a car alarm began going off in the parking lot.

“Stop bickering, I don’t want Alice to join in when she gets here. Her comebacks can be brutal,” Y/N scanned the parking lot for Alice’s beat-up Mini Cooper, spotting it barreling in from the street, her best friend pulling into a spot towards the front with screeching tires.

“Damn, thought she was gonna drive into the side of the building,” Hoseok exclaimed from his spot on a bench several feet from where her, Jeongguk, and Yoongi were standing.

The fox hybrid’s tail was swishing back and forth rapidly, a wide smile on his face when Alice emerged from her car, slinging her purse over her trim shoulder and spotting him with an enthusiastic wave. Y/N felt her eye twitch, and desperately pushed aside her jealousy before any of the hybrids could smell it on her, heavens forbid they could actually identify that particular emotion.

Y/N broke apart from her hybrids to meet Alice halfway, pulling her in for a tight hug. As expected, she looked gorgeous– a cranberry colored slip dress, matching lip gloss, and an oversized leather jacket made her look like she stepped out of a magazine. Her perfume, the one she had worn since high school, filled Y/N’s senses and brought her immediate comfort.

“Look at you! I haven’t seen you in a skirt since grad school,” Alice breathed, hands on Y/N’s biceps as she stepped back to check out her outfit. “You look amazing!”

“So do you, as always,” Y/N blushed, adjusting the askew collar of Alice’s jacket. “I wore a sundress to the cookout, remember?”

“Vaguely. I was hammered towards the end of that night,” Alice smirked, tucking hair behind Y/N’s ear before craning her neck over Y/N’s shoulder to glance at the hybrids hanging back by the brewery’s entrance. “Boys! Shall we?”

Alice marched straight to Hoseok, who had gotten up from the bench to open the brewery’s door for her, a grin stretched across her face. Y/N followed behind, watching the two of them closely.

“Hey you,” Alice addressed Hoseok as she strolled into the building, the fox hybrid joining her as soon as Y/N cleared the threshold of the door, Hoseok not bothering to hold the door for the other hybrids. “How’ve you been?”

Y/N was temporarily distracted from the interaction between her best friend and her fox hybrid, taking in the interior of the brewery. Much like the outside of the building, the decor and vibe was very much medieval tavern; the thick scent of greasy french fries and hoppy beer filled the air, the space was dimly lit up by wall sconces and iron chandeliers, and full of lively people enjoying their beer flights on a Saturday evening. It was a decidedly witchy establishment, with a slight nautical twist– it made her think about Moby Dick, and oddly enough, Hocus Pocus. Sort of an odd combination as far as themes, but somehow, it worked for the town it was in.

“Table for…” the hostess, a teenage girl with green hair, disinterestedly surveying the group of people and hybrids in front of her, drawled. “Nine? I think we have one long table left in the back. Follow me.”

Y/N tried not to notice all of the eyes and rubbernecking going on as they followed the young girl towards the back windows of the brewery, overlooking the distant sea and sleepy town, but even she had to admit it was a sight to behold: seven male hybrids with two human women. Not something one saw every day, even in the age they lived in. The hybrids didn’t seem to mind, most of them were pretty preoccupied pointing out the occasional other hybrid in the room– there was a golden retriever hybrid at the bar with her family, and a calico cat hybrid sitting in a booth with his.

Taking their seats was another ordeal. Taehyung sat on the end of the table, beside her, and Seokjin took up her other side, but she could tell Yoongi was a bit perturbed that the jaguar hybrid had beaten him to her remaining free side. Alice took up the chair across from Y/N so they could chat more easily, with Hoseok on her left and Jimin on her right. The remaining three hybrids who got to the table last found their spots begrudgingly, and menus were handed out promptly before the hostess slouched away.

“We’re all getting flights, right? God, I might have to leave my car here overnight and Uber back,” Alice scanned the menu with her lower lip sucked into her mouth, eyes widening at the extensive beer list. “I want to try all of these. ‘Mermaid’s Lager’ and ‘Half-Moon Ale’... Y/N, these names have you written all over it!”

“Mmm… you’re right,” Y/N chuckled, though she was much more preoccupied with checking out the appetizer section of the menu.

“Alice, you should pick out eight if you want to try a wider selection. You can share my flight, I don’t know too much about beer, anyways. That way I don’t have to choose blindly,” Hoseok encouraged, leaning back in his seat and sending a lovely, pointed-tooth smile to Alice.

“Ugh, you’re perfect, seriously?” Alice’s eyebrows shot into her hairline, nudging Hoseok with her shoulder. “Okay, okay, I have to make my choices…”

Y/N hid her grin behind her menu. While she was a little jealous of Hoseok’s attention on Alice, it was sweet to see Hoseok being so kind to her best friend. Next to her, Seokjin was practically bouncing in his seat, flipping the menu over frantically, his eyes rapidly roaming over each menu item with rapt interest.

“Y/N, what’s a quahog? What are you getting to eat? Should we share the soft pretzels and beer cheese?” Seokjin rapid-fired in her ear, his fiery eyes round with excitement. From across the table, Alice paused, focusing on Seokjin as he continued asking questions.

“A quahog is a type of clam. I’m not sure what I’m getting yet as my entree, but I’ll share the pretzels with you! Get anything you like, honey, I heard the food is really good,” Y/N replied, reaching up to ruffle the wavy hair on the back of his head.

“I didn’t really get a chance to talk to you at the cookout! You’re Seokjin, right? I’ll get the quahog appetizer if you want to try it,” Alice smiled at Seokjin, who blushed at her offer. “Wow. I’m sure you get this all the time, but you’re really handsome.”

Hoseok began hooting with laughter, while Seokjin was spluttering, his face beet red. Y/N could feel his tail winding around the small of her back with the attention he was receiving from everyone, but Y/N had no business in scolding Alice for embarrassing him. She was, after all, completely correct.

“Aw, Jinnie! Don’t be shy,” Hoseok cooed through laughter, Seokjin hiding behind his menu and curling his tail more tightly around Y/N’s waist. “It’s true!”

“Good evening, folks, I’m Joshua and I’ll be taking care of you tonight,” the waiter arrived at the head of the table, beside where Namjoon was seated. Swiftly, Alice and Y/N exchanged a meaningful split-second glance at each other– Joshua was hot. “Can I start you off with drinks? Are we doing flights tonight? They’re half off on Saturdays.”

Alice, of course, was quick to order both her and Hoseok’s flights, and Joshua made a slow circle around the table to jot down everyone’s drink order. By the time Joshua got to Y/N, she was fidgeting in her seat, struggling to maintain eye contact with the handsome waiter as she rattled off her flight choices. He had really pretty blue eyes, and looked quite a bit like a young Lindsey Buckingham.

“Alright, I’ll get those in for you,” Joshua finished taking Taehyung’s order, which was just a pint of lager rather than a flight, and gave them all a pleasant, sparkly smile. “Also, I really recommend the soft pretzels. They’re my favorite and go well with some of the Sour IPAs.”

“Yeah, we are definitely getting those pretzels now,” Alice said dreamily as Joshua headed off towards the bar, Y/N reflexively kicking her in the shin under the table. Unfortunately for Y/N, her aim was off, and she ended up kicking Jimin– who hissed in surprise, eyes widening with alarm.

“Sorry, sweetheart! I was trying to cross my legs,” Y/N yelped, furious with herself. Jimin relaxed at once, waving his hand at her as if to say ‘don’t worry about it’.

“So! Y/N’s told me that some of you guys are signing up for stuff at the rec center. What are you signing up for?” Alice hung her jacket on the back of her chair, the straps of her dress slightly falling down her shoulders with the movement.

“I’m trying out for the track team,” Hoseok leaned forward on his forearms, head tilted as he replied.

“Oh, you like to run? My sister Laura used to be on the track team in high school,” Alice recalled, though slight displeasure washed over her face. She wasn’t particularly a fan of exercise.

“Yeah, I like running, it clears my head,” Hoseok’s ears perked up when someone dropped their fork a table over, Seokjin flinching slightly beside Y/N and into her shoulder.

“Yoongi’s trying out for the basketball team, and Tae’s going to join the photography club,” Y/N added, snagging both Alice and Yoongi’s attention, the leopard hybrid smirking at the sound of his name being called. “My mom still runs the book club at the library, so Seokjin and Namjoon have been going to those meetings.”

“What’s this week’s book?” Alice asked a still-flustered Seokjin, who couldn’t meet her eyes.

“The Stranger, Albert Camus,” Namjoon responded for Seokjin, rolling up the sleeves of his white button down.

“Hmm. Haven’t read that one. Philosophical novels aren’t usually my jam,” Alice tapped on her lower lip thoughtfully. “Photography and basketball… sounds really fun! What about you, Jimin? Jeongguk too, are you signing up for something?”

“No, Miss, I’m repairing the stable in the backyard for the time being. Perhaps I’ll join a club in the spring, though,” Jimin answered politely, Alice blinking rapidly when he addressed her as ‘Miss”.

“I’m all set with that shit, personally,” Jeongguk piped up from his end of the table, sounding bored. Alice opened her mouth to say something in response, but was interrupted by Joshua and three other waiters dropping by to hand out the drinks.

The beer came in rounded, smaller glasses than Y/N was used to, but she supposed it was for the best– four whole pints of beer would have her seeing double. Joshua took their food orders, which was a lengthy ordeal, and Y/N felt her cheeks heat up when Joshua gave her a sweet smile when she relayed her order.

“Y/N, how’s that shandy one? I almost ordered it, but I knew that you would,” Alice nodded at the glass Y/N was holding, which she immediately handed over to her best friend to try. “Oooh. Really nice. Here, try this Sour IPA…”

Y/N spent several lovely minutes trying at least seven different beers; Seokjin, Yoongi, and Hoseok and Alice, of course, offered her sips of their selections. The hybrids chatted amongst themselves about their upcoming activities the next week, while Alice and Y/N got the opportunity to catch up. Alice informed her about her rough outline for her new poetry book, which had Y/N clinking her glass with her. Alice was glowing, and Y/N could tell how excited she was about working on a new project.

While Hoseok began to ask Alice questions about her writing, Y/N took a look around the restaurant while sipping on her beer, her eyes landing on Joshua, who was leaning on the bar from across the room– and staring directly at her. Swallowing thickly, Y/N tore her eyes away from him, turning to talk to Taehyung, who was characteristically quiet.

However, Taehyung wasn’t paying attention to her; he, too, was scanning the room, and his eyes were narrowed as he caught sight of Joshua. Taehyung must have realized Joshua was staring at her, and he bared his teeth slightly as he watched the waiter move behind the bar to make a cocktail. Without looking at her, Taehyung set down his beer and confidently slung his arm around Y/N’s shoulders, still glaring across the room. Squeaking at the contact, Y/N felt Taehyung rest his elbow on the back of her chair, his fingertips toying with the ends of her hair mindlessly. Gawking at the Kodiak hybrid, she wondered if he was doing all of that because of protective, territorial instinct, or if he was jealous. The thought had her heart pounding in her chest loudly.

The scent of sandalwood filled her senses as Taehyung wrapped his arm around her, Y/N forgetting about everyone else around her. She hardly noticed Alice and Hoseok giggling at each other, waiters approaching to drop off the appetizers, and Seokjin placing a soft pretzel on the plate in front of her. The spell was broken when Taehyung withdrew his touch to grab a nacho from the plate in front of Hoseok, still glaring at Joshua’s retreating figure. Y/N didn’t even notice how the waiter was now actively avoiding the side of the table her and Taehyung were occupying, too busy reeling from the display of possession.

“Okay, guys, what do you think about seeing a new movie in theaters in the near future? This cool horror film is coming out soon– Pearl, what do you say?” Alice proposed, passing the plate of stuffed quahogs to Seokjin with an encouraging smile. The jaguar hybrid was still too bashful to make eye contact with her.

Digging into their appetizers, Y/N, the hybrids, and Alice made plans to see the movie on the night of its release, and Y/N was delightfully buzzed by the time she finished the chocolate lava cake she shared with Seokjin for dessert. When they bade Alice– who ended up taking an Uber, after all– a goodbye after the check was paid, Hoseok actually gave Y/N’s best friend a hug. True to her word, Y/N rotated seats in the taxi– she sat in between Hoseok and Jeongguk in the back seat of a Honda Civic, Jimin taking up the front passenger seat. Tipsy and full of way too much food that she had split with Seokjin, Y/N sleepily rested her cheek on Hoseok’s shoulder, falling in and out of comfortable slumber for the fifteen minute ride back home.

The next week and following weekend were a whirlwind of events. She had dropped off Hoseok, Yoongi, and Taehyung at the rec center on Wednesday for their clubs, and again on Friday, while her mother offered to begin ferrying Namjoon and Seokjin to and from the library on Mondays for the book club, saving Y/N from having to leave at the crack of dawn before work to get them there. During the weekend, she helped Jimin out with the restoration work; they had finished the freshly-painted purple chicken coop, and moved onto putting a new fence around the exercise pen. At work, which was slower than ever, she spent most of her time between reading hybrid guide books and writing notes about the Tarot reading Judy gave her.

The day of Namjoon’s birthday, which fell on a Monday, had her running around like crazy. She had asked for the day off, in order to coordinate how her dad would get Namjoon’s trailer to his house. The wolf hybrid was at the library with Seokjin for that week’s book club meeting, so Y/N had her dad drop off the trailer while he was gone.

“Whoa, that thing is ancient,” Yoongi remarked, his arms crossed over his chest and spotted tail curling languidly behind him as he stared at the trailer– which turned out to be more of a camper van than anything. “Needs a hose-down.”

“Ah, I don’t want to do that just in case he wants to keep it this way,” Y/N dragged a fingertip along the yellow siding of the vehicle, the digit coming away dusty with dried mud. “You know how he is. Particular.”

“How much did you have to pay to get this thing here?” Yoongi watched as Y/N tied a little green bow onto the keyring to the van, an amused expression on his face.

“Don’t worry about it,” Y/N gave Yoongi a little head pat, his ears fluttering as she did so.

Namjoon made it back home around 4 PM, him and Seokjin clutching copies of The Scarlet Letter, and thankfully her mom heeded her request to drop them off at the front of the house so Namjoon wouldn’t see his trailer parked in the back by the garage. When Y/N asked what the wolf hybrid wanted for dinner the previous day, he vaguely told her “noodles”, so she and Yoongi made japchae, some side dishes, and meat, of course. She had absolutely raided the bakery in town, getting an assortment of cookies, cupcakes, and pastries, which she had to hide in the garage fridge overnight so Namjoon wouldn’t get his hands on them prior to his party. When she greeted the two hybrids her mother dropped off by the front door, Y/N noticed Namjoon was also holding a gift bag with daisies on it.

“Whatcha got there?” Y/N asked the wolf hybrid curiously, while Seokjin was giving her a goofy side hug. The jaguar hybrid often clung to her when he’d return home from the book club; he said the week prior that he missed her a lot when he was away.

“Oh, um. Your mom got me something for my birthday,” Namjoon scratched the back of his neck, following Y/N as she waddled to the kitchen with Seokjin hanging off of her.

“Did you open it?”

“No, not yet,” Namjoon admitted, sniffing the air, which was filled with a grilled meat smell. He entered the kitchen behind her and Seokjin cautiously, like he thought a ghoul was going to pop out from behind the refrigerator. “I didn’t want to open it while the group was there.”

“Fair enough. I’m curious though, why don’t you see what it is now?” Y/N managed to get Seokjin off of her once she squeezed her arms around his slim waist in a hug, the jaguar hybrid purring and taking a seat on one of the barstools.

Namjoon stiffened as Y/N got close to him where he was standing by the coffee bar, peering around his shoulder at the gift bag. It was interesting– while Seokjin seemed to never get enough physical affection, Namjoon tended to avoid it most of the time. Every hybrid was different, so she supposed and had learned from the guidebooks she’d been reading. Last week, she found out from the wolf hybrid guide book; they take a long time to warm up to adoptive guardians and are slow to initiate physical contact. Since she had learned this, Y/N didn’t take his aloofness personally.

Namjoon dove his elegant fingers into the sunshine yellow tissue paper, his ears turned backwards as if something in the bag would nip his hand. Pursing his lips, he used both hands to pull a box out of the gift bag, Y/N recognizing what it was immediately. Her mother had splurged on a gorgeous chess set for Namjoon, and once again Namjoon’s human ears had turned a shade of pink as he passed a palm over the glossy box.

“Do you know how to play chess, Joon?” Y/N inquired, scooching a bit closer to him to admire the front of the box. The board itself looked like the squares were made of mother-of-pearl and ebony wood, and the chess pieces were intricately carved. “My grandfather taught me a long time ago, but I’m probably pretty rusty…”

“I never actually played, but I’ve read books about the game and strategies,” Namjoon replied softly, turning the box over in his hands and peeling the plastic film off of it. “I mentioned to your mother once that I’ve wanted to learn for a while.”

Damn. Y/N - 0, her mother - 1. Her mother had known Namjoon for longer than her, but the fact that she knew little intimate details about the wolf hybrid that she herself was unaware of stung a little bit.

“Well, I’d be happy to play with you anytime. Because it’s been so long since I’ve played, it’ll be good for you to learn while being my opponent. I won’t kick your ass right away,” Y/N joked, hearing voices from outside draw nearer to the cracked slider into the backyard.

“Hey, Y/N, what’s that th–” Hoseok came inside with Jimin and Yoongi, the latter of which smacked his hand aggressively over the fox hybrid’s mouth, cutting him off right before he spoiled the surprise. Thank the gods for Yoongi.

“Foxy, go bathe. You fell in that pit of mud earlier, you’re going to get shit everywhere,” Yoongi shoved Hoseok towards the foyer, his palm still clamped over the fox hybrid’s mouth. Hoseok’s usually shiny mahogany waves were indeed, caked with mud, and the back of his tee shirt was soaked through as well.

“Oh shit, I have to order the gravel to fill that mud pit in before it starts to get really cold. It’ll freeze and I’m nervous one of us will break a limb,” Y/N muttered, watching Yoongi pull a broom out of the closet in the foyer to sweep up the dirt Hoseok had tracked into the house.

“I’ll add it to our list,” Jimin volunteered, pulling out his phone and tapping away. Jimin had been especially focused on restoration work over the past week.

While she was at work and the other hybrids were at their clubs, the coyote hybrid spent most of his time outdoors. The only one home with him when everyone else was away was Jeongguk, who didn’t necessarily offer his help, but Jimin didn’t seem to mind. Y/N was shocked by how much Jimin had already accomplished; he had finished the exercise pen over the weekend with Y/N and was ready to work on the actual stable itself, which really only needed some roof patching. Y/N had made an Excel spreadsheet she shared with Jimin so he could keep tasks organized and jot down any items they’d need to buy.

“Jimin, the restorations look amazing so far! I think at this rate we’ll have horses around here by November. I’ve asked around my grandparent’s pool of friends, and there are at least four of them interested in boarding their horses here over the winter,” Y/N approached Jimin, who was much tanner than he was when she first adopted him from all his time spent in the sun. Even his honey blonde hair had lightened a few shades, as well as the fur on his ears and tail.

With her words, Jimin’s tail swished back and forth rapidly, excitement clear as day on his face. He had a small smear of mud on his nose, which Y/N reached up to remove with her shirt sleeve gently. Jimin’s cheeks turned pink as she grinned at him and pushed back the strand of hair falling into his face to join the rest of his combed-back style, Y/N resisting the urge to cup his face in her hands and smooch him all over. There weren’t many things she had seen before that was more precious than Jimin’s pure, radiant joy– it positively lit him up and made her giddy like a fool.

“I should wash up before dinner,” Jimin’s voice was faint, like his thoughts were distant and too large for him to sort out, giving Y/N’s shoulder a weak pat before shuffling towards the foyer. “I’ll be back soon! Oh, and happy birthday Namjoon.”

Namjoon, who was still reading the back of the box his chess board came in, grunted in surprise, giving Jimin a short nod as the coyote hybrid left the kitchen in a daze. Y/N tried not to feel too satisfied that she seemed to have flustered Jimin a little bit, but it was quite the ego boost to make such a pretty man blush.

Seokjin had migrated from the island to the breakfast nook, where he curled up with his knees to his chest, reading The Scarlet Letter. Y/N noticed Seokjin was taking notes, too, with the legal pad she kept in the kitchen junk drawer and one of her stolen pens from the animal hospital. The jaguar hybrid was totally engrossed, biting down on his plush lower lip as he read, his sock-clad feet tapping out a rhythm on the booth seat he was perched on, and his tail curled around his waist. She turned her attention back to Namjoon, who still appeared to be reeling from Jimin addressing him. Returning to his side, Y/N let his honey-and-musk scent wash over her pleasantly, his chest rumbling as she approached.

“I got a few things for you too, can I give them to you now?” Y/N asked, knowing that Namjoon was more of a private person.

In comparison to Jeongguk, who had more of a confident, devil-may-care attitude, she couldn’t really picture Namjoon being super comfortable getting showered in gifts while the other hybrids gawked at him. Now, with just Seokjin in the room, someone Namjoon had gotten more comfortable with thanks to the book club, she figured it would be the best time to give him his gifts.

“Okay,” Namjoon answered after a moment, gingerly placing his chess set down on the coffee bar.

Y/N told him to take a seat at the island while she whisked away to the dining room where she stashed the wrapped gifts, returning quickly with a smile on her face when she saw Namjoon followed her directions. Curiosity, along with a fair bit of skepticism, was painted all over his handsome face. It was a tall order to top her mother’s gift, but she thought the trailer might just give her a leg up.

“Alright, Joon! This one first,” Y/N placed a wrapped parcel on the wolf hybrid’s lap, leaning her elbows on the granite countertops so she could watch him open the gift.

Namjoon huffed out a little sigh as he began tearing the sage green wrapping paper, his eyebrows furrowing as he revealed the two items Y/N had wrapped together. She knew the sigh he released was to cover up the fact that he was slightly embarrassed, rather than annoyed, and it made her smirk into her palm. The gift was the set of Tarot cards that reminded Y/N of him, and the book she had picked up for him the day she took the hybrids for haircuts. Suddenly feeling nervous, Y/N stole a glance at Namjoon’s face, and was rewarded with an expression of surprise, his eyebrows lifted as he immediately pulled the cards out of its gilded box.

“The colors reminded me of you, and you seemed to know all of the card meanings, so I thought you’d be interested in having your own set,” Y/N babbled, Namjoon ducking his head slightly so he could look at the artwork of a few cards off of the top of the deck. “As for the book, there’s a strong possibility you’ve already read it, but I’m crossing my fingers that you haven’t.”

Namjoon paused his loose overhand shuffling to peer at the book cover, wetting his lips and his ears fluttering as Y/N spoke.

“I haven’t read this one. Looks like it came out recently… Maybe something in there will tell me what that entity is,” Namjoon leaned closer to Y/N, his voice low, as if he was trying to keep the moment between just the two of them.

“Maybe it will,” Y/N mused quietly, feeling the air electrify as Namjoon drew closer into her personal space. “Here, this one next.”

Namjoon cocked his head, scanning her face with those calculating orange honey eyes, before tearing open the second wrapped box. A soft, muted noise of exclamation came from the back of his throat as he lifted the lid off of the box, before he actually began chuckling.

“Oh, you remembered when I suggested a Walkman! Where did you even find this?” Namjoon lifted the device from the box, accidentally dropping the old wired headphones back into the tissue paper with a sheepish grunt.

“Believe it or not, a pawn shop,” Y/N replied proudly, psyched that Namjoon liked his gifts so far. She could hardly wait to drag him outside. “Now you can listen to those folk tapes whenever you want, or order blank tapes online and record your own voice. Like an audio diary?”

Namjoon snorted, his dimples appearing in his cheeks, and used one of his free hands to drape over the back of Y/N’s. Shocked by the contact, and the fact that he had been slowly doling out more of it these days, Y/N felt her heart skip a beat.

“I have one m-more surprise for you, but it's outside,” Y/N stumbled over her words due to a slew of things; his hand over her’s, the way he was looking at her intensely, and the excitement of reuniting him with some of his belongings in the camper van. “Come with me!”

Y/N wrapped her hand fully around Namjoon’s, tugging him off of the barstool and excitedly blowing past Seokjin, still wrapped up in his book, and towing a spluttering Namjoon out to the backyard through the slider.

“What else could you possibly get me? H-hold on, I’m going to trip,” Namjoon panted, stumbling a bit as Y/N pulled him to the gate leading to the garage and driveway. He squeezed her palm tightly, tugging her to a stop with one eyebrow raised– he didn’t release her hand, even when they stopped running.

Using her free hand, Y/N gave the wolf hybrid a mischievous look and reached into her pocket for the keys to his van, which was obstructed by the garage and out of view, and brought their joined hands up to her face. Turning his palm over in her hand, she dropped the keys into it, the green ribbon fluttering in the wind. There was complete silence as Namjoon stared at the item that was placed in his hand, nothing but the breeze in the willow trees making a sound.

“No fucking way,” Namjoon blurted loudly, startling a few mourning doves sitting on the gate to the garage and driveway into flying away with a series of coos. “Are you serious?”

Biting down on her lip, Y/N jerked her head sideways, Namjoon eagerly following her past the gate and towards the garage and driveway, the old camper van coming into view beside the basketball hoop Yoongi had set up. The siding of the vehicle was buttery yellow and white-turned-gray with mud and ancient looking moss, and there was something dangling from the rearview mirror– maybe an air freshener?

Namjoon tightly gripped the keys in his fist, pure astonishment on his face as he took it all in, his hand slightly shaking as he approached the side door to unlock it. Y/N didn’t check out the interior of the van herself; she figured far too many people had already invaded his space– between agents who apprehended Namjoon in the first place, the people at the impound lot, and her father who brought the van from the lot to their neighborhood. She wanted more than anything to check out what kinds of things Namjoon collected over the years, but since she had read more about wolf hybrids, she wanted to wait until he actually invited her into his space.

The side door to the van creaked open with a rusty sound, a gust of parchment-scented air rushing out as Namjoon hurriedly hauled himself into the back of the vehicle, leaving Y/N standing in her driveway with a swish of his tail as he disappeared into the back of the camper. Shifting from foot to foot, she heard Namjoon mumbling to himself and banging into things from her spot outside the camper, when his head popped into view with fluttering ears, eyebrows knitted in confusion.

“What are you doing? Come in,” Namjoon used two fingers to beckon Y/N up the steps, before disappearing into the back of the camper again. Giddy, she hopped up and into the van.

It was a vintage camper, and surprisingly more roomy than it looked. It smelled like Namjoon, mingling with old books and the smell of pine trees, and it was pretty crammed with more books than she could count– stacked on the shelves, piled on the floors, strewn about the table by the seating area in the back, and by the looks of it, even shoved into the oven. There were tapes scattered about as well, and indeed, there was a poster of Bigfoot on the wall, next to the iconic “I want to believe” The X-files print that looked like it had seen better days.

Above the driver’s cab, there was a loft with what appeared to be a bed where he’d sleep. There was a mini kitchenette that looked hardly used, an ancient looking TV nestled on the counter intended for cooking prep, and a little door by the seating area that Y/N presumed to be a bathroom. It had pretty much everything one person needed to live in there, and Y/N wondered where the hell he had even gotten it. It wasn’t like hybrids were technically permitted to drive (legally, that is), let alone waltz into a used car lot to purchase a camper van. It was another mystery that cloaked Namjoon.

“I hope everything’s still here,” Y/N began, eyes roaming on some of the book titles that were lying around. Namjoon had everything from fiction novels, classics, esoteric non-fiction books, and even poetry anthologies. “Let me know if something is missing… I’ll call the impound lot.”

Namjoon was digging through a drawer that was built into the booth of the sitting area, his back to her. With no reply from the wolf hybrid, Y/N continued to take a look around, noticing that the lack of organization mirrored how he kept his bedroom within the house. Meanwhile, Namjoon found what he was looking for, straightening out and watching Y/N read some of the spines of the books he had lining a shelf beside the kitchenette. He could hardly believe she actually found the van, let alone had gotten it back to the house and surprised him with it. Namjoon was particularly good at sniffing out surprises before they happened, but nothing could have prepared him for this.

“Wow, you have so many books about extraterrestrials. I didn’t know you were into that kind of stuff,” Y/N commented, enjoying her little peek into Namjoon’s interests. “Have you read all of these? You must have a hundred books–”

“Y/N,” Namjoon interrupted her, his tone serious, grave, even. Tearing her eyes from his book collection so she could nervously make eye contact with the wolf hybrid, she wondered if she said something out of turn, or was somehow too familiar.

“Mmm? Sorry, I didn’t mean to snoop,” Y/N admitted sheepishly, clasping her hands together in front of her body to indicate that she wasn’t going to touch any of his belongings.

Namjoon took a large step towards her, a soft expression on his face that was usually reserved for her mother. Feeling her cheeks flush, she stayed put, dropping the intense eye contact between them and instead focusing her gaze on the cream wool sweater covering his chest, the v-neckline exposing a small sliver of golden skin.

“This is for you,” Namjoon murmured, gently grasping her clasped hands and turning over one of her palms, placing a smooth, cool object into it. Shocked, Y/N gaped at the wolf hybrid, before examining what exactly he had gifted her.

In her hand was a crystal, smooth and rounded, roughly the size of a ping-pong ball. She couldn’t help her sharp intake of breath, turning the crystal over in her palm, the milky color of the stone flashing blue and purple in the light coming from the window over the kitchenette. Y/N could immediately identify the crystal as soon as she saw that flash– it was a gorgeous moonstone, one that had the most striking flash of brilliant color she had ever seen. And for once, Y/N was completely at a loss for words.

“I found it by a creek a few years ago, at Yellowstone. I remembered I had it, and thought that you’d like it… considering your collection on display on the bookshelves in my room,” Namjoon filled the silence as she felt all sorts of emotions begin to well up inside of her.

Not only was the first thing Namjoon did when entering his van after such a long time was give her something of his, but the fact that he noticed her old crystal collection in his room, and most of all, the way he was looking at her. It was entirely overwhelming.

“Oh Namjoon, are you sure? It’s so beautiful, I can’t believe you found this!” Y/N finally managed to breathe, heart racing in her chest.

Namjoon hummed in confirmation, a content smile on his lips as he gazed around the van, his ears flickering with the sound of the breeze outside. To heighten her surprise even further, the air was knocked from her lungs as Namjoon tugged her forward, gingerly wrapping an arm around her waist so tightly his hand ended up resting on her hip. His other arm moved to drape around her shoulders, tucking his face into the crook of her neck resolutely. Choking on an intake of breath, Y/N hardly had time for her brain to catch up with her motor skills, pressed up so tightly against Namjoon’s muscled chest.

“Thank you,” Namjoon whispered into her neck, squeezing her slightly as she, with trembling limbs, wound her arms around his waist.

It was as if he was thanking her for many things, with the seriousness in which he uttered the two words. Completely stunned into silence, Y/N could only imperceptibly nod in response, pressing her cheek over Namjoon’s steadily beating heart. Warm all over, she let Namjoon hold her for what seemed like minutes, before he pulled away and Y/N was able to regain some mental facilities. That was the first time Namjoon had ever hugged her.

Regarding her with newfound fondness, Namjoon turned with a swish of his tail, resuming sorting through his drawers and making sure all of his belongings were there. Y/N had yet to move an inch since the out-of-character hug. All she could think about was how safe she felt in his arms, protected, even. As if someone had pressed play on a paused action movie, Y/N was able to reanimate herself now that Namjoon’s penetrating gaze was no longer lingering on her.

“I’m going to set out everything for dinner now, okay? I’ll send you a text when everything is heated up… I got a bunch of sweets for dessert, too,” Y/N announced after lightly clearing her throat, Namjoon’s ears fluttering with the sound of her voice.

Sliding the beautiful moonstone he had given her into the pocket of her linen pants, Y/N felt her wooden limbs begin to robotically take her down the steps into the van. Before she could stray too far, Namjoon spoke up again.

“Y/N, really,” the wolf hybrid paused his sorting through some well-worn sweaters from the drawer he was organizing. “Thank you.”

Pausing, Y/N shot him a wide smile, warmth blooming in her chest.

“You’re welcome. Happy birthday, Joonie.”

Namjoon’s birthday was a wonderful success, and ended up endearing Y/N to the wolf hybrid by many strides. The rest of the hybrids treated his birthday like it was a normal dinner, except they got to indulge in champagne and all kinds of desserts after, as well. Taehyung had even begrudgingly wished him a happy birthday after a couple of flutes of champagne, and the wolf hybrid was too busy talking to Jeongguk about his paranormal book collection to growl at Taehyung. Tension between Namjoon and Taehyung seemed to be slowly dissolving over time, and after the former’s birthday had come to pass, mid-September began to fly by.

One Thursday afternoon at the metaphysical shop, while Y/N was munching on a caesar salad wrap Yoongi had packed for her lunch, Y/N received a call while she was on her break. Fumbling for her phone, thinking it was an SOS call from one of the hybrids at home or the rec center, she didn’t even check the caller ID before picking up.

“Y/N? Do you have a pulse?” Ben, who she had neglected to contact frequently over the past few weeks in the midst of mayhem, sarcastically drawled.

“Still breathing,” Y/N confirmed, setting her wrap down so she could better focus on the call. “Sorry I’ve been missing… Two birthdays this month, clubs at the rec center have started, and the new job. How are things? Daisy, you and Roy?”

“I figured you were busy, no worries, Y/N,” Ben chuckled. “We’ve been super busy too. I took some time off so I could be at home with Daisy, Roy’s still working on his dissertation. We’ve stalled our wedding planning. It's been so crazy. Oh, and we signed Daisy up at an activity center, like a daycare? We get to stay, of course. She’s made so many friends already, another bunny hybrid!”

“Who would have thought we’d all be so domestic right now,” Y/N grinned into the receiver, doodling flowers in her notebook. She had just about wrapped up her analysis of her reading she got from Judy all those weeks ago. “Maybe tomorrow at some point I can swing by, bring some lunch for you guys? This weekend’s nuts. Hoseok has a track meet tomorrow night, Yoongi has a basketball game on Saturday morning, and I told Jimin I’d take him to the hardware store after. Sunday, too, Taehyung’s got his first expo, and I’m doing something with Namjoon and Jeongguk later that evening.”

“Christ. I thought I was busy. I forgot you got seven of them, and they’re adults,” Ben sounded astonished, Y/N giggling into her palm as she skimmed her notes. “Wait, you only mentioned six of them. What’s the remaining one up to? Not interested in clubs?”

“Oh, Seokjin? He’s in the book club my mom runs out of the library. He’ll probably tag along with me to all of the events. He’s quite against parting with me for too long,” Y/N felt a fondness flow through her as she mentally pictured Seokjin’s lovely face, and the way he shadowed her constantly.

“Yeah, hybrids are clingy, Y/N. Bet you’ve learned that by now, though. Do they claw at each other to see who gets to sit next to you on the couch?” Ben joked, unaware that Y/N was flushing– because they pretty much did. “Speaking of Seokjin. I looked into that situation you texted me about regarding the Cirque Mystique fire. As well as the other two things. I’ve had some free time whenever Daisy is down for her naps.”

“Ben. I love you, do you know that?” Y/N’s week was made with this revelation, visualizing his blue eyes rolling back into his skull on the other line. “I have like fifteen minutes until I have to open the doors again!”

“Alright, I’ll give you the basics. I’ll send over everything I’ve compiled after we hang up, sounds good?” A ruffling sound of papers being sorted through came through the receiver; Ben had likely printed out all of the information Y/N had him dig around for. With Ben’s status as a powerful, successful business lawyer, he had not only numerous far-reaching connections, but a persuasive personality to seek out information she could never find out herself.

“Yes, yes, go ahead,” Y/N urged, pulled out of her intense focus on the reading she had just finished taking notes on.

“So, let’s start with Cirque Mystique. They’ve had a few lawsuits over the years, I’ve worked with other lawyers that handled their cases. One of my buddies has a contact over at the circus, so I was able to ask directly about the hybrid your Seokjin was performing with the night of the fire,” while Ben spoke, Y/N held her breath. “Hannah, a cat hybrid. She’s still with the company, she’s fine… sustained minor injuries, but my friend is working to get her out of the company. She’s pressing charges for unsafe working conditions. If she wins the case, she’ll be able to enter the adoption system.”

“She’s okay? Thank goodness,” Y/N placed a hand over her forehead, overjoyed that she could tell Seokjin the good news later. “Wait, hybrids can press charges like that?”

On the other line, Ben hummed in amusement.

“Y/N, you really are clueless about the hybrid world, huh? Yeah, within the last five years or so, the law protects hybrids in certain ways. We’re not all there yet, unfortunately, but for serious matters… poor living conditions, abuse, etcetera, hybrids can press charges and request representation if they so desire. Typically, public defenders take the cases considering most hybrids cannot be legally employed, meaning they have no way to pay for a higher-profile lawyer. However, some of my colleagues have taken cases and waived fees for many cases regarding hybrids. Morally, we can’t stand how some of these hybrids have been treated,” Ben explained patiently.

“So, hybrids can take cases to court now,” Y/N confirmed, Ben grunting in response. “Which answers one of the other things I asked about.”

“Yeah, so, I’m not quite sure if I can give you a perfect answer. I understand protecting whichever hybrid of yours that may have gotten himself into a situation, but it depends on how serious the issue was. You mentioned self defense in response to an abusive situation, correct?”

Y/N had asked Ben, as vaguely as she could, about how a hybrid would go about protecting themselves if placed in a dangerous situation, and used self-defense in response to danger. She hadn’t mentioned Taehyung’s name at all, not that she was worried Ben was some kind of rat, but because the Kodiak hybrid didn’t even know she was arming herself with information, just in case they’d need it in the future. She prayed that day would never come.

“That’s right, self defense. For example, say I was walking around Boston Common, and someone tried to mug me and a couple of the hybrids. If they fought back physically in the name of self defense, would juries likely side with the hybrids?”

“Well, that depends on who makes up the jury, and how good your lawyer would be. Say that actually happened, right? Fortunately, Y/N, you have the means to hire a really good lawyer for your hybrids. A few sympathetic members on the jury could definitely sway the verdict in your favor. I’d say, keep whatever happened under wraps until either your hybrid presses charges or the other party does. But yes, I’ve seen cases involving hybrids defending themselves against abuse resolved in their favor,” Ben sounded like he was rubbing his close-cut beard, deep in thought. “I compiled some information about cases like this, I’ll include it when I send the email to you later.”

“Thank you Ben, this is really great stuff so far,” Y/N gushed, relieved to have certain anxieties quelled with his information. “Any news on the last query?”

The final thing she had asked Ben to look into regarded Jimin. Ben’s cousin lived in Wyoming, and was married to a park ranger, so she was able to find out a few things for Ben to report back to Y/N. She had a couple of tricks up her sleeve not only surrounding Jimin’s birthday in a few weeks, but for Christmas as well.

“Ah, yes, Jimin’s surprise,” Ben said through a smile. “Here’s the thing. You need to send the Yellowstone ranch’s office a copy of his adoption certificate to prove he’s in your care, and what you want to retrieve for him in Montana…”

“Yeah? Rip the bandage off,” Y/N picked at her nails, expecting some hoops to jump through.

“Y/N, it’ll be a pretty hefty sum. I mean, it’s not like they’d be shipping a crate of books to you. They’re willing to do it, for the right price of course, and provided you show them that Jimin is officially adopted by you,” Ben revealed with a note of skepticism.

“All I care about is if it’s possible, which apparently it is,” Y/N waved her hand in the air, even though no one was there to watch her gesticulate.

“I figured,” Ben snorted, knowing Y/N was the type of person to splurge endlessly on those she cared about. “As far as taking Jimin to visit his family, that’s allowed as well. Really, as long as you can show the Park that you’ve legally adopted him, and he’s not just a stray, there’s no rule that prohibits him from visiting his family on the ranch.”

Y/N wanted to take Jimin to see his parents, sister, and friends some time after the holidays, perhaps in January. She only wanted to entertain the idea if Jimin wouldn’t face any sort of punishment, considering he had run away from his home and employer. Since all that was needed was proof that he was living under her roof legally, she could not only gift him a trip to Montana for Christmas, but surprise him with something huge for his upcoming birthday.

“Ben, thank you so much, I mean it. I knew you’d be able to dig all of this up,” Y/N excitedly stuffed the last bit of her delicious wrap into her mouth, catching a bit of homemade dressing on the corner of her mouth with her tongue. She’d never tire of Yoongi’s cooking. “You’re a superhero. I can’t wait to see you and hug you for twenty minutes.”

“Y/N, don’t flatter me. It was refreshing to look into all of this for you, since I’ve been cooped up at home for so many weeks. Don’t get me wrong, though– I’ve been loving my Paw Patrol marathons with my daughter dressed in our pajamas in the meantime,” the sound of Ben filing away his papers filled Y/N’s ears, his breathy laughter threaded in between his words. “As for what you mentioned earlier, I’d love it if you could swing by tomorrow for a visit. I miss you, and Daisy has been asking for ‘Foxy’. I think she heard your leopard hybrid calling him that.”

“Hmm, how’s early afternoon? Hoseok’s meet isn’t until 5PM, and I have the whole day off. I can likely rope everyone into coming, but we’ll see,” Y/N watched the clock on the wall, making sure she had some more time to finish her lunch. “Hey Ben, one more thing?”

“What’s that?”

“Do you know if anything has changed regarding hybrids getting a driver’s license?”

“Jesus, Y/N. Do you read any of the articles I send you? Yes, driving schools have begun taking on hybrid students,” Ben scolded lightheartedly, Y/N noting that she’d probably end up signing a handful of the hybrids up to get an official license.

Getting some form of official ID for those who didn’t want to drive would be wise, too– and when she thought about it a bit longer, Y/N would need to look into getting another car. Her to-do list was never ending, but it kept her busy and the tasks were all worth it, if it meant her boys could live lives as close to normal and comfortable as possible.

“Ah, I can hear Daisy. She has a new habit of climbing out of her bed after her nap to look for me in my office. Time for Paw Patrol,” Ben had never sounded more affectionate, except for when he was talking about Roy and their wedding plans, perhaps. “Take it easy, okay? I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“You too, Ben. See you then, give Daisy a hug for me,” Y/N wrapped up the call, waiting for Ben to hang up first as he started to baby-talk at his daughter.

Y/N, while finishing off the little bag of chips Yoongi had included into her lunch, unlocked the metaphysical shop’s front door and turned the sign back around to “open”. It was busier prior to lunch, and typically customers tapered off after her break, so she returned to her stool with a sigh and brought her attention back to her notes on the reading. After many weeks of consulting the guide book, asking Judy to see the physical deck, and slyly observing each hybrid’s behavior, she was fairly confident she had sorted out who was who.

The Shaman - Related to the element of Air. Insightful person, involved with magic, particularly protection magic. Gaze is ‘ancient’, mature, and seems to possess knowledge from ages past. Animistic spirituality. Meditative. Respects nature and what can be learned from it. Musical, finds the sounds of nature inherently musical. Educator and leader of the young, “walks between worlds”. Seokjin (?)

She had spent a majority of the time trying to decide which card represented the jaguar hybrid. Over the past month she had spent with Seokjin, she noted his insightful, wise nature, his calmness, and his deep respect and admiration for nature. He was the one the others often looked up to, sometimes begrudgingly so, since he was the oldest in the house.

Often, she heard Seokjin singing– she wasn’t sure if Seokjin was aware he had a listener, let alone a fan, but Y/N often found herself enjoying his melodious voice when he sang in the shower, while he worked on the stable repairs with her and Jimin, or even when he was tipsy and helped with post-dinner kitchen clean up.

Additionally, there was a certain quirk of Seokjin’s Y/N had recently become aware of. He was unnaturally perceptive, and Y/N would even go as far as saying it was on par with Namjoon’s perceptivity. Seokjin, more than any of the hybrids, could not only sense her immediate shift in mood, but the other hybrid’s as well. He had a unique ability to emphasize with anyone in the house, even if he disagreed with their actions. After much deliberation, she decided Seokjin was The Shaman.

The Archer - The Spring Equinox, sunrise, air, inspirational and creative. Hoseok for sure. A focused, determined, athletic person full of purpose. Cunning. Eager for adventure, bold, desires to take control of life and ambitions. Steady state of mind. Soulful, clever, uses intellect to their advantage. Imagination is powerful and has the ability to manifest into reality.

The Woodward - Lammas, late summer, fire and water. Associated with the full moon. Others often mistake passive, emotional, humble nature as weakness. Controls emotions with ease, but displays them with ease. Jimin, most likely. Understands facing fears, has experience with darker subjects of the cycle of life. Possesses great inner power. Brave, wise, balanced person. Compassionate, merciful, experienced in natural life cycles.

The next two were the easiest to figure out; Hoseok and Jimin. Out of all seven of her hybrids, they were the more extroverted of the two. Y/N only had to read three lines of the guide book to know that The Archer was her Hoseok; clever, adventurous, and definitely imaginative. Jimin, on the other hand, wore his emotions on his face clearly and without restraint. However, he was incredibly polite and in control of his actions, which she had clocked when he first scented her. Like The Woodward, she noticed that some of the other hybrids would often make him the butt of a joke because he was so willing to let things go out of politeness, but Jimin was no pushover. He’d make his own jokes in retaliation, with class and wit.

Yoongi and Taehyung were more difficult to place, but not as much as Seokjin was. She spent a week alone, with the remaining two cards, trying to make out who was who. It was that day, at work, where she finally felt confident enough to assign them a card. Taehyung being quiet and mysterious, and Yoongi being enigmatic no matter how attached at the hip he was with Y/N, she nearly drove herself delirious in the effort.

The Hooded Man - The Midwinter Solstice, the element of Earth. Solitude, a thoughtful person. Represents death and rebirth. Frost, ice, and winter are associated with the card. Inner depth. Someone who has a quiet or slow voice. Withdrawn. Can be harsh, keeps to self. Seeker of knowledge, old soul type individual. Strong willed, survives any stressful situation and turns tribulations into lessons learned. Good at comforting others… Taehyung (?)

The Guardian - This must be Yoongi. Samhain, elements of Water and Earth. Protective, “human link to the wilderness”. Can incite fear in others, but controls their own fears well. May practice paganism at one point in their lives. Complex person, unafraid of the unknown or the taboo. Can be a trickster, has an inner darkness due to circumstances that have happened in the past. May get lost in their thoughts. Hades, Oberon, Dark Angel.

Biting the cap of her pen, she contemplated whether or not she had placed those two hybrids correctly. The characteristics of The Hooded Man that matched up with Taehyung were his soft-spokenness, and his introverted personality, and his “solitude”. Once she deduced that Taehyung fit that card best, she became puzzled with the remaining card being Yoongi.

Yoongi, who was probably the most selfless and caring person she had ever met in her life, being a card as dark as The Guardian? It didn’t make too much sense to her, but the other cards fit everyone else too well for her to reconsider. Perhaps there was an inner darkness to Yoongi that she hadn’t seen yet… he did have a proclivity for schooling his features, and Y/N didn’t know too much about his past. Like a lot of the others, he really didn’t bring up his life prior to his adoption, and Y/N was hesitant to prod around, considering how close she and Yoongi had become.

Interrupting her contemplation over the reading, the witch bells rattled against the shop’s door, announcing the arrival of a customer– a young woman with lilac-dyed hair, holding hands with a tall man. Once Y/N blinked rapidly to clear her head, she greeted the two customers cheerily, watching them peruse the crystal table.

With a jolt, she realized that the man was actually a hybrid, perhaps a German Shepherd hybrid, triangular ears crowning his head and an air of protective energy surrounding him. The young woman was happily examining a chunk of clear quartz, and to Y/N’s great surprise, her hybrid ducked down to give her an affectionate kiss on the apple of her cheek, the woman giggling in response and getting on her tip-toes to plant one on his lips. Eyes glazing over, Y/N felt a deep ache in her chest; she couldn’t wait to go home and see her hybrids, all of a sudden.

“Okay, okay, we have to get going now, or Hoseok will be late for his meet,” Y/N was trying her best to corral the seven hybrids back to her Land Cruiser parked outside of Ben’s townhouse.

She brought a stack of pizzas from Sal’s over for lunch. Recalling Laura’s diet before a track meet from her high school days, Y/N knew that loading Hoseok up on carbs was probably her best bet, and everyone– her hybrids and Ben’s family– loved Sal’s pizza. They spent the afternoon eating in Ben’s grand dining room, catching up, and playing with Daisy. Jimin and Hoseok were delighted to see the bunny hybrid again, and Y/N had to physically shove a plate with four slices of pizza on it into Hoseok’s hands while he was chasing Daisy around Ben’s living room so he wouldn’t cramp up during his meet.

“Foxy,” Daisy pouted in a watery manner, making grabby hands at Hoseok while Roy held her on his hip. Over the course of the afternoon, the bunny hybrid had gotten pretty attached to Hoseok. “Don’ go!”

“Sweet pea, Foxy has somewhere he needs to be. We’ll see him again soon, don’t worry,” Roy soothed, in his typical calm and collected manner. Daisy continued to fuss and reach for Hoseok, who had his lower lip jutting out as well.

“Next weekend, Dais, okay? I’ll see you then, we’re going to pick pumpkins, remember?” Hoseok also attempted to soothe, Y/N catching Jeongguk rolling his eyes as he hauled himself into the back seat of the Land Cruiser. Y/N was actually quite proud that Jeongguk had refrained from not only using expletives the whole afternoon, but also from lighting up a Marlboro for so many hours.

“Thanks, Ben, for all of the info,” Y/N gave him a hug, making sure each hybrid was getting into her car as she patted the thick envelope of paper in her tote bag Ben had discreetly placed in there before they left. “See you next week, love you.”

Ben, Roy, and Daisy waved at them as Y/N pulled away, having Namjoon beside her set the navigation to the rec center. Ben lived in the heart of Boston, on Beacon Hill, and the rec center was in her town just outside of the city, so it would take them about half an hour to get there. She was genuinely surprised that everyone was willing to go to Ben’s and then Hoseok’s meet, but she suspected that some of them were just itching to get out of the house, particularly Jeongguk and Jimin, who rarely left.

The rec center was a huge concrete building, right on the edges of the town they lived in. Large basketball courts were outside by the parking lot, and at the back of the building was the running track. As she had read on the website, soon the outdoor sports would be moving inside. That weekend were the only meets and games Hoseok and Yoongi would have outdoors until the spring, if they decide to sign up again, that is.

It was 4:15 by the time she had parked and everyone was following Hoseok to the track. He was whistling joyfully, swinging his gear bag around and tapping a rhythm on the side of it, Y/N taking a sideways glance at the basketball court and its stands that she’d be crowding into the next morning. She didn’t know if anyone besides Seokjin would be joining her for Yoongi’s game the following day, but it would be nice if the others would be just as supportive of the leopard hybrid as they were of Hoseok.

“I gotta hit the locker room and change, the bleachers are over there. I think there’s a dude selling hot dogs and cheeseburgers somewhere, too,” Hoseok paused by the back door of the rec center, overlooking the running track. Already, there were quite a few families crowding the stands, and a handful of hybrids in uniform stretching on the track.

“Alright, we’ll go find spots. Looks like Yoongi’s already on it,” Y/N snorted, most of the hybrids following Yoongi to the stands like lost little ducklings. Turning to Hoseok, who was rooting through his gym bag, the fox hybrid pulled out a white sweatband, which he promptly shoved over his head to get his hair out of his face, ears popping up cutely with the movement. “Come here, you. Good luck, I’m cheering for you!”

Y/N tugged Hoseok to her by the belt loop of his jeans, squeezing her arms around his waist tightly, hooking her chin over his shoulder. Usually, when Hoseok would give her a hug, he’d similarly place his chin over her shoulder, so she had gotten used to holding him this way. Hoseok was only caught off guard for a split second before he clasped his hands behind her back, playfully nuzzling his nose into her hair.

“Go find your seat, before there’s none left. You don’t want to have to sit on someone’s lap, hmm?” Hoseok placed his hands on Y/N’s hips, lightly pushing her away with a cheeky grin. “Gotta change and stretch. I’ll see you after, my darling.”

With that, Y/N waited until Hoseok retreated into the rec center before she headed towards the bleachers, most easily recognizing where she had to go by spotting the bony set of Jeongguk’s antlers. Yoongi had chosen a section of bleachers right in the front, and people around her hybrids were giving them a wide berth. After all, it wasn’t like they were bunny hybrids. Y/N wondered if she should go on a podcast or something, so she could tell the world that exotic hybrids were just as clingy and sweet as your average housecat hybrid.

Y/N settled in between Yoongi and Seokjin, with Namjoon and Jeongguk directly behind her. Confused, she looked around for her remaining two hybrids, but couldn’t visually locate them anywhere. Panic, as per usual, was impossible to squash down.

“I sent them to get some drinks and snacks,” Yoongi spoke unprompted, cracking his knuckles and glancing at Y/N out of the corner of his eye. Talk about mind reading skills.

“Hungry again? I knew I should have ordered seven pizzas rather than six,” Y/N relaxed, leaning into Yoongi’s shoulder and humming.

“Seokjin wanted to try what they had,” Yoongi scooted closer to Y/N, his sweet-scented shampoo tickling her nostrils. “Even though I told him the food is shit here.”

“Hey, let me decide for myself! How could a cheeseburger possibly taste like shit?” Seokjin declared, sending a dirty look Yoongi’s way. Y/N believed it might have been the first time Seokjin ever swore in front of her, and it made her hook an arm around his back in amusement so he could nestle closer to her side.

“What’s Foxy’s event, anyways?” Yoongi let it go, pushing a hand through his long locks.

“He told me he’s doing one of the sprints, and a middle distance event. I think the mile,” Y/N replied, eyes lighting up as Hoseok jogged out of the rec center building dressed in his uniform; a red tank top and matching bottoms, black Spandex shorts under the baggier red uniform pants.

Hoseok made his way onto the track, fist-bumping a couple of his teammates– a racoon hybrid, from the looks of it, and a calico cat hybrid. Y/N, entranced, kept her sight glued to Hoseok doing quad stretches and animatedly talking to his friends. Hoseok, by nature, could talk to anyone. He made friends everywhere he went, whether it be Y/N’s own friends, his teammates, or even a random cashier at the grocery store.

The coach, a wiry thin man with gray hair, began handing out numbers and pins to the team. Hoseok ended up with the number 807, and even from several yards away, Y/N could see his wide smile as he pinned the number to his tank top. By now, Jimin and Taehyung had returned from the food stand, the former with a tray of sodas, the latter balancing several paper boats of hot dogs, french fries, and cheeseburgers in his arms. Y/N accepted a portion of french fries, still full from the pizza, mindlessly fiddling with Taehyung’s dark curls as he sat in front of her with his soda.

“Hmm. You were right Yoongi, it’s shit,” Seokjin begrudgingly admitted, Y/N snickering as the jaguar hybrid chewed loudly in her ear with a pout. Yoongi rolled his eyes.

“So, there’s going to be a loud noise when the coach shoots off the flare gun. Just giving you all a heads up, it usually spooks me,” Y/N nonchalantly informed the hybrids, but more specifically warning Seokjin in particular.

She didn’t want to single him out and make him uncomfortable, but Seokjin was jumpy around loud sounds, so the warning was necessary. Nonetheless, he got the message with his keen perceptivity, and wound his tail around her waist in a silent response.

Hoseok was incredible. When it was his turn to sprint, Y/N cheered him on, even though he was lagging behind. However, at the last moment, he shot forward like a rocket, coming in second behind his friend, the raccoon hybrid. Y/N clapped like a maniac, nearly spilling her basket of french fries all over the top of Taehyung’s head.

A bit later on, it was time for the middle distance run, and Y/N was on the edge of her seat. As a joke, Jeongguk leaned down from his seat behind her, offering her an unlit cigarette poised between his inked fingers. After receiving a glare from Y/N, Jeongguk smirked and tucked the cigarette back into the carton, licking his lips.

“Do we get to leave after this event?” Jeongguk spoke up, Y/N not tearing her eyes from Hoseok jogging in place at the starting line. Twilight had begun to color the sky in lilacs and pinks, a slight chill in the air as the sun disappeared behind the rec building.

“I think so, unless Hoseok wants to stay and watch the rest of the events,” Y/N replied without looking back at the elk hybrid, gripping Seokjin’s hand tightly before the flare gun would go off again. His palm was warm and combatted the chill, and his thumb lightly brushed the back of her hand continuously.

It seemed like falling behind, getting a slower start, before surging forward at the last minute was Hoseok’s strategy to win. The fox hybrid ran with grace, and it was almost spellbinding to watch him surpass each of his teammates as he pulled forward in first. Y/N hardly even noticed Yoongi taking off his bomber jacket to place around her shoulders as the temperature outside continued to drop. She only registered the action when she stood abruptly the same time Hoseok crossed the finish line first, the jacket unceremoniously dropping off of her shoulders as she screamed her head off. Sure, the people around her were giving her odd looks, but she didn’t give a shit.

“Way to go Hoseok!” Y/N shouted, her fox hybrid getting attacked by bear hugs from his teammates on the track. “I’m so proud of you!”

Without thinking, Y/N whistled the three note tone Hoseok always did, and watched as Hoseok tore away from his friends and immediately whipped his head around to locate the source of the whistle. Ears perked up and alert, his eyes zeroed in on Y/N, who whistled again, waving like her life depended on it. Hoseok looked taken aback, even with all of the commotion around him; his teammates slapping his back, the coach attempting to give him a handshake. Cocking his head, Hoseok sobered up, his face splitting into a grin, waving back to Y/N with equal enthusiasm.

As it turned out, Hoseok wanted to leave after the event, not even bringing up his first and second place wins as he approached Y/N and the others, complaining about the cooling temperature. To be fair, the fox hybrid was covered in sweat, so that couldn’t have helped the situation. Y/N attempted to give him another hug, but he claimed that he was too grimy, so they piled into the Land Cruiser for home when it was all said and done. In celebration of Hoseok’s success, Yoongi made everyone homemade hot chocolate when they got home, killing the cold that had seeped into Y/N’s bones from being outside.

“You look really good,” Y/N breathed, taking in Yoongi in all of his glory, dressed in his green basketball uniform and leaning against one of the basketball hoops. Surprisingly muscular for his slight frame, Y/N had never seen so much pale skin from the leopard hybrid. Additionally, he had put on a fair amount of weight and muscle since she adopted him– when he was not getting much to eat at the shelter– which was relieving.

His game was mid-morning on Saturday, and only Seokjin had elected to come with her and Yoongi. Currently, the jaguar hybrid was sitting on the bleachers further away, taking stock of the cooler he had brought along, filled with snacks and drinks. Y/N didn’t think he wanted another hockey puck burger from the food stand, so he packed things from home to eat.

“Do I?” Yoongi lifted a brow, surprised Y/N would be so forward. “Jersey’s a little tight. Might ask for a bigger one next gameday.”

“Nuh-uh. Looks fine to me,” Y/N shook her head innocently, enjoying the blush on Yoongi’s cheeks with her teasing tone. “Number 54.”

“Are you flirting with me?” Yoongi deadpanned, Y/N shrugging lightly. She had long since become immune to Yoongi’s quick comebacks, and truthfully, she was flirting with him. “Careful.”

“54, get that hair up! Can’t have it hanging in your face during the game,” Yoongi’s coach, a stern middle-aged woman with a blonde crew cut, barked his way. Yoongi had mentioned she was tough, but an amazing coach.

Yoongi made a move to grab the green scrunchie around his wrist, before Y/N stopped him by lightly snatching his wrist herself.

“Can I do it? Please?” Y/N dangled the scrunchie in front of his face, winking coquettishly. It was very easy to make Yoongi blush, but even easier to get him to give in to her every whim when she teased him a little with a flirtatious glance. It was certainly an ego boost.

Nodding with his eyes downcast, Yoongi took a seat on a courtside chair, Y/N filled with glee as she rounded the chair and slid her fingers into his silky black hair. Pulling her lip in between her teeth, she knew that Yoongi’s hair wasn’t long enough to completely tie back into a bun, so she gathered up the pieces on his crown and framing his face, softly scraping her fingernails against his scalp for a little added massage. Hearing him purr from beneath her, Y/N hummed in response, using the scrunchie to make a half-up half-down bun style, before straightening out the strands still loose against the back of his neck. Satisfied, she gave Yoongi a tap on his shoulder, prompting him to get back up.

“There you go, all set,” Y/N admired his face now that his hair wasn’t hanging in it, the shaved sides above his human ears exposed. It was a shame he had to take out all of his hoop earrings for the game, because they’d go well with the hair style. “Knock ‘em dead out there, angel.”

His coach began furiously blowing her whistle, indicating that the game was starting soon, so Y/N took it as her cue to begin returning to Seokjin. Before she could get very far, though, Yoongi caught her around the elbow.

“Hey, what about my good luck hug sweetheart? Foxy got one,” Yoongi tilted his head. Oh, the tables were turning, apparently.

Shoulders shaking with laughter, Y/N opened her arms, looping them around Yoongi’s back and shuddering at the feeling of him slinging his low around her waist, both of them pressed cheek to cheek. Yoongi wound his fingertips into the hem of her sweater, his chest rumbling with purrs against her’s. In a strong bolt of confidence, Y/N released him, his features curious while her’s mischievous, and much like when he first made her lunch to take to work, Y/N leaned up on her tip-toes to plant a kiss on Yoongi’s cheekbone.

“Good luck, Yoongi,” Y/N whispered coyly into his ear, sending him one more wink before shoving him lightly towards the court, where his teammates were gathering around the coach.

The leopard hybrid walked off in a daze, caught off guard by the impromptu kiss once again, and Y/N skipped to the bleachers where Seokjin was waiting for her, reading the book club selection of the week. She wondered if Seokjin had seen the spectacle and was ignoring it, or if he was too wrapped up in The Catcher in the Rye.

“Hi honey, I missed you,” Y/N snuggled up close to Seokjin, the briskness of the wind telling her October was on the way. “How’s the book? Can’t say that one is a favorite of mine.”

“I’m not a big fan so far, either. Um, but next week we’re reading Pride and Prejudice. I remember you said you liked Jane Austen a lot, so I’m excited to get through this one and move onto that. You’ll have to tell me a little about it,” Seokjin set his book down, adjusting the collar of Y/N’s sweater so it covered more of her shoulder. Seokjin often fussed over her bundling up as the weather was cooling down, lately.

“Ooh, you, Joonie and I can watch the movie after you finish the book. I think you’ll love it. Hmm, maybe Jimin too, he likes romance movies,” Y/N wormed her way even closer to Seokjin– if she was any closer, she’d be in his lap– and linked her arm under his. The jaguar hybrid, she noticed, didn’t like the cold, so she didn’t think he’d mind if she made herself into a space heater for him.

“So it’s about romance?” Seokjin glanced down at Y/N, his fiery eyes distant for some reason, his voice very soft.

“Yeah, it's arguably the best romance novel of all time,” Y/N replied, trying not to find his reaction strange. Did she spoil the surprise for him? Before she could read too much into it, Yoongi’s coach blew her whistle, and as Seokjin flinched closer into Y/N’s space, the game began.

While Yoongi was playing, like when Hoseok was running, Y/N was transfixed. Yoongi seemed to be the best player out of the bunch; and being the shooting guard for his team, he scored several points in the first quarter alone. She recalled her phone call with Alice not too long ago, when her best friend referred to Yoongi as being sexy… and watching that basketball game, she couldn’t help but think about how right Alice was. Something about watching Yoongi running around on the court, yelling in his deep, raspy voice at his teammates, and the sweat that began to collect around his hairline and dampen the locks had her pretty much squirming in her seat. She prayed Seokjin didn’t notice, but he had been periodically going back and forth from paying attention to the game, reading his book, and snacking on some Doritos.

The game became a nail biter in the last quarter, and Seokjin began to watch it with more focus, offering Y/N a few Doritos as she nervously tapped her foot against the metal bleachers. Yoongi seemed to be growing frustrated with the other team’s shooting guard, a Doberman hybrid, gritting his teeth and clenching his fists as the hybrid kept annoyingly close to Yoongi once realizing he was the biggest threat on the opposing team.

As the timer was running out, the two teams were tied. Seokjin was soothingly patting Y/N’s back as she gnawed on her nails, eyeing the sweat rolling down Yoongi’s temples. Just as she was praying to the sky, Yoongi managed to get the ball, sinking a three-pointer, not even seconds later the buzzer going off indicating that the game was over.

Unlike Hoseok, who had welcomed hugs from all of his teammates before seeking out her and the others, Yoongi immediately turned to the bleachers and pointed at Y/N, who was already flying out of her seat and cheering in delight.

Before she knew it, she was jumping up– right into Yoongi’s arms, as he caught her mid-air, her arms around his neck and legs encircling his waist, his hands supported her by cupping under her thighs. Still squealing with joy into his neck, Y/N didn’t even register all of the cheering around her and teammates thumping Yoongi on his back. He won, and the first thing he did was look for her.

After Yoongi’s game, she treated Seokjin and Yoongi to some lattes and pastries before they headed back to the house, and she spent the rest of the day trying to calm her racing heart after Yoongi held her by working on the stable with Jimin. When she found the coyote hybrid that afternoon, he was on the roof of the stable sans shirt, patching up holes with shingles. So much for calming her racing heart. Fortunately, he put his tee shirt back on by the time he and Y/N were hauling hay into the nearly completed stable.

The last two things on her agenda, when she woke up on Sunday, were Taehyung’s photography expo in the afternoon, and the banishment ritual she had planned with Namjoon and Jeongguk in the evening. The ritual, fortunately, could be performed inside, and was quick and dirty; after all the running around during that weekend, she was both utterly exhausted and ready to just chill out with all of the hybrids on the couch for a bit.

The dress code for Taehyung’s expo was casual, but Y/N still decided to wear a cute autumnal dress, in a gothic periwinkle color trimmed with black lace. This time, not only did Seokjin tag along, but Jimin and Hoseok as well, which she thought was a nice gesture. Everyone who went dressed up a bit; Seokjin and Jimin in button downs and dress pants, Hoseok in a maroon sweater and jeans, and Taehyung in his outfit he had worn to the cookout– the ruby satin short-sleeve button down and baggy black cargo pants. They all looked pretty stylish, in Y/N’s opinion, and as she pulled up to the rec center for the third day in a row, she felt many eyes on the five of them.

“We only have to stay for a little while. There’s no presentation or anything, just a few of my pictures hanging up, and champagne served,” Taehyung began nervously, nodding at the older gentleman holding the doors of the rec center for them.

“Aw, Tae, we’ll stay for as long as you want! I can’t wait to see your first pictures. You’ve been working so hard, walking around the backyard for good shots, editing on your phone,” Y/N insisted, clicking her tongue when Hoseok rushed by her with Jimin and Seokjin in tow, straight for the nearest person with a serving tray full of champagne flutes. “If I want to get them printed, how would I go about doing that?”

With this, Taehyung turned quite red, matching not only his shirt but the peculiar color of his eyes, too. Y/N took a cursory look around the room they had set up the event, clumps of people and hybrids scattered around the industrial looking lobby, low tables of appetizers and cheese plates, and of course, framed pictures on the walls, separated by who took them.

“Taehyung! Good to see you here so early. Did you see where we set up your pictures?” An older woman, perhaps in her sixties, approached her and Taehyung standing in the middle of the room with their champagne flutes. “Oh, you must be Y/N! So nice to meet you, dear.”

Y/N shook hands with the woman, who had gorgeously painted plum fingernails and several artsy bracelets. She reminded Y/N of her mother, vaguely.

“Come, come. I’ll lead the way. I put your pictures up over by the window, Taehyung, and we hung them with the walnut frames you picked out last week,” the woman gestured for her and Taehyung to follow her, and the Kodiak hybrid suddenly looked incredibly nervous.

Y/N reached for his hand to squeeze it reassuringly, not wanting him to feel shy about showing her the pictures he had worked on all week. She made sure Hoseok, Jimin, and Seokjin were faring well; they were chatting with a couple of other hybrids across the room and enjoying cheese and crackers, presently. As they walked to where Taehyung’s pictures were, Y/N felt Taehyung’s palm grow clammy in her grip, his ears flattening to his skull so much they were hidden in the mass of his dark curls.

“Here we are! They’re beautiful, I can’t believe it’s his first time with a camera– Oh! Brian, welcome! Excuse me, you two… enjoy the expo, and well done, Taehyung!” With that, the woman breezed away to greet another hybrid and his family, stepping out of the way so Y/N could get a good look at the four photographs framed on the wall.

The first one her eyes landed on was a picture of the front of their house in black and white, the sunlight reflecting interesting shapes on the eaves of the roof. It was taken from a spot in the flower beds lining the walkway up to the porch, so a single Black-eyed Susan was closest to the lens. The second, also in black and white, was a picture of himself, holding one of her grandfather’s vintage cameras up to an old mirror in his bathroom back at home. As per usual, he looked gorgeous, and there was a ghost of a smile on his usually stoic face.

Smiling, she recognized the room in the third picture immediately, it was the room with the piano, and the photograph was in color. It was a shot angled from where Taehyung would lay on the floor to listen to records, and the picture showed Y/N and Yoongi’s feet as they sat at the piano for their weekly lesson. It was amazing that she wasn’t even aware that Taehyung was snapping pictures of them, but judging by the sweatpants Yoongi was wearing in the picture, it was from two weeks ago when he was teaching Y/N “Clair de lune”. The photo showed Yoongi’s sock-clad foot over her’s on the sustain pedal, showing her when to hold it down. If anything, it was quite an intimate shot that had her cheeks heating up.

Swallowing thickly, and rubbing circles into Taehyung’s wrist bone, she got closer to the wall, turning her attention to the last picture. It was then when she finally gasped; it was a candid, colored portrait of her. She had no idea when Taehyung had snuck that picture of her, but from the softened, fuzzy edges of the film grain, it was taken with one of the vintage cameras. She was mid-laugh in the photo, her hand covering her mouth and eyes scrunched up in mirth, curled up on the couch in the parlor with purplish light illuminating the side of her face from the TV. Y/N never really liked seeing photographs of herself, but this one was lovely. Hardly believing it was even her, she stepped closer to the picture, trying to ascertain exactly when he had taken the photo.

“Um… they’re kind of amateurish, but I think when I edited the two black and white ones, the result turned out nicely. I didn’t retouch the colored ones at all, they had pretty good lighting on their own,” Taehyung let go of her hand so he could point at certain areas of each photograph, his voice a little unsure. “Do you… what do you think? Are they bad?”

Casting a glance towards the Kodiak hybrid, who was anxiously analyzing his work with knitted brows, Y/N moved to grab his other hand as well, forcing him to face her.

“Tae, they’re gorgeous. I love them, especially the one that you took with the mirror. Just as I thought, you’re a natural,” Y/N squeezed his large hands as she emphasized certain words. Taehyung could tell, based on her scent, that she wasn’t lying to him, and as if the sun came out, his adorable, wide smile blossomed across his face. It was enough to almost bring her to tears, the brightness of it. “I definitely want to print these. I’m going to display them in the house.”

Letting Taehyung go, she began to admire his pictures once more, taking a sip of her champagne. The Kodiak hybrid moved behind her silently, and sandalwood fragrance enveloped her as Taehyung leaned down to nestle his chin on her shoulder, Y/N feeling low grumbles against her back as he pressed up against her, his arms around her middle. It wasn’t unusual for Taehyung to hug her like this, her back flush to his chest, so she leaned into it with a content sigh.

“It was hard to pick just four. I’m happy you like these ones, though. You’re not mad I took pictures of you?” Taehyung murmured into her ear, his dulcet voice causing her to shudder in his embrace.

“Of course not, Tae,” Y/N reassured, his curls tickling the sides of her neck as his face burrowed there.

Often, she forgot she was in public when moments like this happened, so caught up in warmth and sensation nothing else seemed to matter. As if hearing her thoughts, Taehyung pressed his lips against the side of her throat, featherlight and tender. Feeling her stomach flip, Y/N leaned more of her weight back into Taehyung’s chest.

“Y/N, over here! Check out this guy’s photos. They’re of a creepy old church, right up your alley!” Y/N heard Hoseok call from across the room, snapping her out of her Taehyung-induced reverie. Stepping away, she kept her arm linked with Taehyung, seeking out the other hybrids she had brought along with her.

“Let’s take a look around! Then I have to find that woman who greeted us earlier to ask about prints,” Y/N walked side-by-side with the Kodiak hybrid, heading towards where Seokjin, Jimin, and Hoseok were congregating in the center of the room.

After an hour, Y/N left the rec center with the four hybrids and a thick portfolio full of Taehyung’s photography. When she got home, she placed an order for a handful of picture frames.

Just like that, September passed them by, and summer’s heat dissolved into a damp, overcast October. Once her, Jeongguk, and Namjoon had completed the banishment ritual, which involved burning herbs in her old cast iron cauldron and handing out sachets of cleansing bath salts for everyone in the house, Y/N was confident that they had gotten rid of the hag entity for good. She no longer felt its presence at all, in fact, the Victorian home had never felt so safe and protected.

The stable was finally finished, which gave Jimin the opportunity to begin assisting Y/N with house renovations, starting with the hideous wallpaper on the second floor that was peeling in sheets. Even though the house was half-renovated, Y/N didn’t skip decking it out with extravagant Halloween, or Samhain, as she also called it, decorations as soon as the calendar read October 1st. Jeongguk poked fun at her for being overly enthusiastic, littering dozens of pumpkins on the porch and throughout the home, but Seokjin helped her set up the purple and orange lights on the fence around the front yard. Their neighborhood, filled with spooky looking homes from decades past, was popular with trick-or-treaters, so typically everyone went all out with decorations.

It was the morning of Jimin’s birthday, a Thursday, and Y/N couldn’t help but think that it just missed falling on a Friday the 13th. Because Jimin didn’t belong to any clubs, she was having difficulty coordinating how to get his surprise in place, so she enlisted Hoseok’s help.

“What do you need me to do, darling?” Hoseok whispered mischievously, after breakfast when Jimin had gone to take a shower before properly starting his day.

“After he gets out of the shower, do you mind taking him for a walk over to my parent’s down the street? They have a gift for him anyways, so that’ll be the excuse for getting him out of the house,” Y/N felt like they were having a conspiracy meeting, ducking their heads together and speaking in hushed tones.

When Jimin emerged from his bathroom, dressed in blue jeans and a buttery yellow crew neck sweatshirt, Hoseok promptly tore him from the house, the coyote hybrid sputtering out protests. As soon as they were down the street, Y/N had about an hour to get everything in order.

“Joonie, can I have your help?” Y/N knocked once on the open door to his van, where he was inside reading a book about chess, spinning a pawn around in his fingertips. The look of shock on his face was adorable, but he set down his things and joined her outside.

“There’s a delivery truck that just got here five minutes ago, looks like a horse trailer,” Namjoon informed her, following closely behind as they ventured further out into the driveway.

“It is a horse trailer,” Y/N confirmed as they approached, Namjoon’s ears twitching as he heard something she could not.

“Y/N, I know you’re a little, um. What’s the right word… generous with the birthday gift giving, but you did not get Jimin a horse, did you?” Namjoon lifted a brow incredulously, looking down at Y/N like she had sprouted a third arm.

“No, I didn't get him a horse. I got him his horse. From the ranch,” Y/N retorted, tugging Namjoon by his wrist to greet the delivery driver and begin the process of bringing the horse to the freshly painted stable.

It was no easy feat; Y/N had close to zero experience with horses, but luckily for her the delivery driver and Namjoon seemed to have things covered. Jimin’s horse, a beautiful bay female, was named Vista, and had a seemingly sweet disposition.

“Now, this horse is used to Montana climate, and the winters can be bone chillingly cold. I think she’ll be alright here, and Jimin will be able to take care of her well,” the delivery man, who spoke in an accent similar to Jimin and Namjoon, gave Vista a strong pat on the neck, the horse nickering softly.

Seeing the driver off, Y/N was starting to wonder why Hoseok and Jimin were taking so long at her parent’s house. Back in the house, Yoongi was busy making BLTs for lunch as per Jimin’s request, and placed the other gifts she picked up for Jimin on the island– just a nice bottle of his favorite whiskey, some new crystal tumblers, and a couple of new sweaters.

“Y/N, Judas priest. Go out back, ding and dong returned, and they brought… guests,” Jeongguk came in from the kitchen slider after his smoke break, Y/N pausing her assembly of a sandwich to assist Yoongi. Judging by the look on Jeongguk’s face, which was poorly masked hilarity, Y/N began to hightail it to the backyard again.

“Hi guys, you’re– dear god,” Y/N slapped a hand over her mouth, eyes threatening to pop out of her skull.

Jimin was pulling her mom’s old red wagon, and nestled inside were chickens. Live chickens. Hoseok, with great effort, was holding a rooster in his arms, his teeth gritted, but merriment in his eyes.

“My parents got you chickens for your birthday?” Y/N asked stupidly, Hoseok squawking as the rooster tried to flap free from his grasp.

“Believe it or not, this is the kind of gift I’d get back at the ranch for my birthday often,” Jimin chuckled, completely unfazed. “We should get them to the coop though, that rooster is going to peck a hole into Hoseok’s arm.”

Shit. If Jimin was heading back to the stable, he’d see Vista, and they hadn’t even had cake yet. It couldn’t be helped, however.

“Hoseok, here, give me the rooster. I’ve handled them before, don’t worry! Why don’t you change, I think it–”

“Yeah, it shit on me. It’s cool, I’m going to take a shower. Here’s the little bastard,” Hoseok thrust the rooster into her arms, sending her a wink before jogging off and into the house.

“So, this isn’t unusual for you, Jimin? Chickens for your birthday? Honestly, where does my mother come up with these crackpot ideas? I mean we were going to get some chickens anyways, but this is just insanity. How many are there?” Y/N was rambling, feeling nervous about the whole horse situation. How would he react?

“I think there’s five hens. This is good, right? We’ll have fresh eggs soon!” Jimin was delighted, the stable only a few paces away. Jimin’s steps faltered, his ears alert, but he seemed to shake off whatever made him pause with disbelief on his face.

“Alright, let’s get them in the pen. We’ll have to get some feed, your mother gave me some that’ll last for a few days,” Jimin started plucking chickens out of the wagon, setting them down in the grass while Y/N scattered food by the coop. Just then, Vista whinnied from within the stable, as if sensing her old owner. This time, Jimin flinched, staring at Y/N with round butterscotch eyes.

“Um, happy birthday?” Y/N squeaked, Jimin springing into action and moving into a dead sprint, bolting into the stable with Y/N hardly able to keep up once she made sure the chickens couldn’t escape their pen.

“Vista?!” Jimin exclaimed, standing in front of the stall his horse was in, all color drained from his face. “Y/N, is this? How did you?”

Jimin appeared to be on the verge of tears, entering the stall and stroking the horse’s mane with wonder. By his side now, Y/N watched an array of emotions wash over the coyote hybrid’s face. Her favorite, of course, was his joy.

“I just had to prove that I adopted you to the ranch, and they allowed me to have her brought here. I thought you’d like to be reunited,” Y/N revealed, the wind knocked out of her abruptly, Jimin grabbing her more roughly than he usually did and squeezing her into a fierce hug. So fierce, her feet were lifted off of the ground momentarily.

“Well, why don’t you take her around some of the trails in the backyard? We’ve got saddles and everything,” Y/N breathed once he set her down, light tears still misting his eyes. Nodding enthusiastically, Jimin moved as if floating through air, gathering everything he’d need to prepare Vista for a ride.

Jimin must have thanked her a thousand times before he let her out of his sight, but she insisted that she had to return to the house to resume helping Yoongi with lunch preparations. She watched as Jimin began to speak softly to Vista, his sandy tail swishing back and forth happily, before Y/N headed back into the house with a face-splitting smile.

“Ooh, Freddy Kruger? How scary,” Y/N bent down to plop a couple of peanut butter cups into the little kid’s treat basket, holding onto her pointed witch hat as she did so.

Halloween evening, her favorite night of the year, was turning out to be lively, and her house was ever-so-popular. Between all of the hybrids, some in costumes (Yoongi was Scarface, Hoseok dressed up as a pirate) and the lavishly decorated house, Y/N was practically stationed at the front door constantly with her large plastic cauldron full of candy to hang out. Assisting her was Seokjin, who was wearing a headband with little red devil horns. The kids absolutely loved him.

“Isn’t tonight a special holiday for you? Samhain?” Seokjin spoke up during a rare moment without kids on the porch, his voice floating over the cheesy Halloween music Y/N had pulsing from her portable speaker.

“Yeah, it is! You remembered,” Y/N cooed, adjusting the askew headband perched on his crown. “I set up an altar this morning in my room. Mostly, I just wanted to light some candles for my ancestors and put out offerings. I’m going to celebrate for a few more days, too… Samhain, Halloween, it’s a state of mind.”

Giggling at the goofy voice she used during her last statement, Seokjin perked up, a little girl in an Elsa costume bumbling up the porch steps for candy. The jaguar hybrid complimented her costume, offering her some packets of M&Ms. Shyly accepting them, the girl stared at Seokjin with awe before hurrying back to her parents on the street.

“Y/N, we have a situation,” Yoongi lightly tapped on her shoulder from behind, standing on the threshold of the front door. Gazing upwards, catching the plastic gold chain Yoongi was wearing with his costume, she immediately sobered up upon seeing his distressed expression.

“What happened, angel? Seokjin, can you take over for a few minutes, honey?” Y/N stood, following Yoongi into the house after he nodded. In the house, she sensed something off right away– there was shouting coming from the parlor.

“It’s Jeongguk and Namjoon. They picked a fight with Hoseok–”

“Out of my fucking way, I’m outta here,” Jeongguk barked, and the sound of the slider in the kitchen slamming shut as Jeongguk stormed out of the house.

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

Please do not repost or translate my work. Thank you!

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

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acciopietro · 2 years

Note

Ok so I just read your “Bad Idea” smut and it was amazing! Can you do one where the roles are reversed? Like y/n has the sex pollen infect her?

combining with request #2: Hey 🧍🏻‍♀️ this is my first time ever requesting smut so- I feel super awkward 😅, I was wondering if you could write Pietro maximoff eating (fem?) reader out on a couch (or gn reader, anything you want :)

a week’s isolation - p.m.

pairing: pietro maximoff x fem! reader

summary: the strange plant thor brought to earth from asgard is housed in the lab on the upmost floor of the compound, it’s pollen safely contained; your room, however, is right below it. too bad they forgot to seal the vents.

word count: 3,878

tw: smut smut smut. oral (f receiving). apologizing in advance. both parties are 18+ and consenting adults!!!!

a/n: takes place in between the age of ultron/civil war era. pietro and wanda are adults but still young! i haven’t written smut in such a long time so forgive me for the long time it took to get this posted. i get embarrassed when writing shit like this so it takes me twice as long since after every word i have to close my computer and take a lap around my room. hope u enjoy :)

“DOES EVERYONE UNDERSTAND?” FINISHED BANNER as he stood before the team, his face flushed and his eyes wide. Pietro had been half-listening for the first portion of the man’s speech, but at the sound of the words “highly dangerous” and “do not go near it”, his interest had been inevitably piqued.

Pietro fiddled with the string bracelet on his wrist, eyes drifting across the long, meeting table. You were sat next to the head of the table, hair daintily curved along the edges of your face, hands folded on the edge of the table, lips pressed together in thought. He blinked before he could get too lost in you; it had happened before and he didn’t feel like getting caught staring again.

A chorus of yes’s and head nods washed over the team, followed by a short moment of awkward silence as they individually considered the strangeness of the situation that was now in their midst. Pietro sent a tired glance to Wanda, who rolled her eyes and mouthed Pay attention!

“I need you all to seriously recognize the dangers this plant might cause,” Banner went on after the group gave their half-assed acknowledgements of their understanding. “Thor brought this here on accident, and it is only he and other Asgardians that are immune to it. We’re only trying to find a proper, safe way of disposing it, maybe even using a way to harness it’s pollen without... well, killing ourselves.”

“Why can’t Thor just bring it back up to Asgard?” Barton asked, scratching his chin. Shifting in his chair, he said, “I feel like that should be discussed.”

“The issue with that, Barton, is that it’s pollen has already begun to cling onto other things. Our plants, here on Earth, need some kind of vector to move their pollen from place to place, like insects or wind. On Asgard, or at least with this plant, it’s very different,” Banner explained. “The pollen acts almost like a virus, one that clings onto surfaces and grows. We don’t know how to kill this virus, so it’s harder to manage than normal pollen.”

Pietro watched you raise your hand; always so quiet, so polite, you were. It was endearing, he thought, watching you always behave so accordingly. The only time he ever saw you lose yourself was in the heat of a fight, when fists would fly and guns were drawn. It was a treat to see you in such a state, a rarity.

“Y/N? You have a question?”

“The pollen isn’t spreading into the compound, is it?” you asked carefully, something in your voice telling Pietro you were nervous. “Should I be worried?”

“No, we’ve done our very best to contain it,” Banner reassured you; Pietro watched your shoulders deflate. “As long as you all stay away from the lab, you’ll be just fine. And anyone who enters the lab will need to wear facial coverings. I’d even go as far as to say we should invest in more hazmat suits.”

“It’s not that extreme, is it?” Steve Rogers asked in disbelief. “I mean, hazmat suits? C’mon, Banner, what’s the big fuss?”

“The big fuss?” Banner gave a dry scoff. “The big fuss, Cap, is that if you’re exposed to the pollen, it’ll make your mind go into such a sex-driven frenzy that you’ll lose touch with goddamn reality! Do you want that? Because I seriously doubt you want that!”

A wave of silence washed over the room. Steve pressed his lips in a thin line, his nose dusted pink, and said nothing in response, only slowly shaking his head.

“We get it,” Natasha Romanoff spoke up after everyone spent a moment of clearing their throats and adjusting their chairs. “Stay away from big, scary plant.”

Bruce opened his mouth to keep going, but Tony Stark placed a hand on his shoulder.

“They get it,” Stark said. “We’ll change the password to the lab, anyways. J.A.R.V.I.S. will make sure no one goes in.”

All the members fizzled off, going their separate ways. Banner, Stark, and Thor ventured up towards the lab, the latter the only one not donned in a white hazmat suit. Wanda scooted her chair closer to yours, nudging your shoulder.

“Interesting, huh?” she commented. “Wonder what they do with them in Asgard.”

“S’probably like a drug,” Pietro chimed in, dragging his chair towards the two girls’ and sitting backwards on it, legs spread, hands dangling on the back of the chair. You crossed your legs, one folded gingerly over the other, the glossy black toe of your Mary Janes brushing his knee. “No doubt they get a shit ton of that pollen stuff and sell it.”

“I thought Asgardians were immune to it?” you said. Pietro paused.

“Well, maybe if they take a lot of it, it’s like that weird stuff you Americans have. Viagra. Helps it stay up, you know,” Pietro joked, to which Wanda whacked him on the shoulder. “What? Just a hypothesis.”

“Don’t be so crude,” Wanda chastised him. You giggled, the apples of your cheeks rose dusted. Pietro’s lips curled up at your reaction; you glanced over at him, matching his smile, before glancing back down at your lap. “Let’s just stay away from the lab for next few weeks or so. Play it safe.”

“I wanna see it,” Pietro ran a hand through the icy blonde tips of his hair. Your eyes widened a bit. “I’m curious now, y’know? I mean, what’s a sex plant supposed to even look like?”

“Curiosity killed the cat, Pietro,” you told him carefully, the sound of his name rolling so easily off your tongue that he almost felt goosebumps trail up his forearms. He smirked, cocking his head to the side.

“But satisfaction brought it back,” he finished the quote for you, raising an eyebrow. Your lips twitched, shaking your head a bit and looking away from him. Wanda rolled her eyes, patting you twice on the knee before standing up, strawberry-blonde hair tucked behind her ears.

“I’m going to find Vis,” she announced, the leather of her red jacket swishing against her waist. “I’m tired of this plant talk.”

“Your loss,” Pietro called after her as she walked off. She turned around and stuck her tongue out childishly before lifting a single hand; with a swirl of red light, the door slammed shut behind her. Glancing back at you, Pietro grinned. “You can’t tell me you’re not just the tiniest bit curious.”

“Of course I’m curious,” you told him, leaning forward a bit in excitement as you shifted around; the scoop neck of your black tee sat low on your chest as you moved, and he fought to keep his sights on your eyes. “But, it’s not worth the risk. Not in my opinion, at least.”

“Yeah, well,” Pietro shrugged. “Maybe I’ll grab ahold of one of those hazmat suits and head in there myself. Just to take a look.”

You sent him a look and sighed, “Just don’t be stupid.”

Pietro gave a toothy grin. “Oh, Y/N. When have I ever been stupid?”

---

THE NEXT MORNING, PIETRO WAS bewildered to see you absent from the kitchen. Typically, you’d wake up way before he did, and he’d find you sitting at the kitchen table with a cup of tea or coffee and a book, silently reading. Vision sometimes would join you, or on certain days when Peter Parker would come round, Pietro would find you chatting away with him at the table. This specific morning, however, you were not there. Vision was sitting on his own, a copy of Henry David Thoreau’s Walden in front of him; a cold cup of coffee was sat in front of the empty chair.

“Buna dimineata,” Vision greeted in Sokovian, not looking up from his book. Pietro rubbed the sleep from his pale eyes and glanced at Y/N’s empty chair. “I presume you are curious as to where Y/N is.”

“Where is she?” Pietro asked, retying the white strings of his plaid blue and silver pajama pants. Vision glanced up at the cold cup of coffee, staring at it until it lifted into the air and carried itself towards the sink, dumping itself out and sitting on the chrome interior of the sink.

“I poured that for her, but she had yet to arrive,” Vision explained. Pietro furrowed his brows, crossing his arms over his chest where the white tank top he wore to sleep was wrinkled up. “I sought for Captain Rogers and he revealed to me that she’s been quarantined to her room.”

“Quarantined?” Pietro repeated, the word sounding uncomfortable on his tongue. He cursed under his breath before tentatively asking, “What for?”

Vision closed Walden and set it down on the table, letting out a simple breath and shifting his eyes to meet Pietro’s.

“It seems that the laboratory and Y/N’s room share an air vent,” he said. Pietro said nothing, not following. Vision stood up, tucking the chair back under the table and holding Walden with one hand. “They sealed off that mysterious plant, however they seem to have forgotten the air vent underneath the desk it’s planted on. That air vent just so happened to empty into Y/N’s room.”

“The pollen,” Pietro pinched the bridge of his nose. “O, la naiba...”

“So it’s just wise, according to Banner, that she is confined to her room,” Vision gave Pietro look, bowing his head forward as though he knew something he wasn’t supposed to. “Which means you must leave her alone until she has recovered.”

Pietro let out a sigh before moving his eyes away from version, clenching his jaw and thinking; maybe there was a way he could get into your room without getting infected by the pollen himself, even if it was just to talk with you. The idea of you being all cooped up there by yourself made his heart clench, but he also couldn’t help but let his mind wander to the effects the pollen was having on you.

“Pietro,” Vision said, and Pietro met his eyes. “Do not try and see her. We don’t know how much pollen is still in that room.”

Pietro rolled his eyes and left the room, not letting Vision interrupt his brainstorming. Banner had been extreme in his warnings about the effects, but how sexually-frustrated could the damn thing make a person? Besides, you were tough. He was sure it wasn’t too bad.

And it wasn’t. But after a week, he started getting anxious. Your room was entirely off limits, the only people going in out being Banner, to asses the situation, and Steve Rogers, to talk to you. You had always been close with Rogers, however, Pietro wished Banner could lend him one of those masks so he could see you.

One evening, Pietro couldn’t sleep. The more he laid in bed, pale eyes staring blankly at the white ceiling, the more he thought about you, cooped up in your room and probably in an unimaginable amount of pain. It had been a week and change already, and this isolation was sure to be driving you mad. He swung his legs around so he was now sitting on the edge of his bed, and he paused.

Maybe this is a bad idea, he thought to himself as his legs carried him towards his door, Like, a really bad idea. He hand was still clasping over the doorknob and twisting, despite that little voice in the back of his head asking if this idea of his could potentially end badly.... or, he could end up helping you out. He couldn’t imagine being isolated for so long.

By the time he reached the outside of your bedroom, he paused, his knuckles hovering over the wood, hesitating to knock. He could hear you from outside, moaning and groaning in pain. His heart ached and he knocked.

The moaning stopped and Pietro gulped. “Hey, dragă...”

“Pietro?” you asked from inside. “You shouldn’t...” you paused, and he heard the sound of your bedsheets rustling. “You shouldn’t be near here...”

“I know,” he said. “But I wanted to see you.”

“Banner says it might be contagious,” you replied sadly. He could hear you frown. “I don’t want you to catch it.”

“It’s been over a week,” Pietro rolled his eyes. “I doubt it’s still airborne. Most viruses don’t last in the air for that long.”

“I guess,” you fell silent. More rustling. Pietro sighed and put his hand over the door knob. Taking a deep breath, he twisting and opened it.

You were a sight to see, that’s for sure. Half your body was covered by the white comforter, and the parts of you that weren’t were clad in a small tank top and small pajama shorts. The ceiling fan was on top speed, and there were two other fans propped up in the room, each pointing towards the bed.

Your face was a bright red, same with your chest, and your hair was pulled back into a low ponytail to keep it out of your face. But your eyes, that had previously been half-lidded, widened considerably when you saw Pietro open the door before you threw the entire blanket over yourself.

“You can’t be in here!” you shrilled. “You’ll catch it!”

You felt a hand grasp onto the blanket, slowly pulling it down and off of you. Pietro, his hair tousled by his hand and his lips curved into a gentle smile, let out a small laugh.

“It’s okay,” he said. “I’m, like, superhuman. I think I’ll be okay. Let’s go get some water.”

You hesitated, letting him slide the blanket off you. You clenched your jaw, cheeks flushing scarlet as your eyes raked him up and down; he was clad in a thin white tank top that was maybe a size too small, and white-and-blue pajama pants that hung low on his waist. Taking a deep breath, you swung your legs over the bed and got to your feet.

You walked behind him, scared to get too close. Pietro could see your hesitation to the leave the room, as well as your hesitation to touch anything.

“C’mon, dragă,” Pietro laughed at you. “It’s okay. I feel fine. You’re not going to get me sick.”

“We don’t know that,” you took another heavy breath, keeping your eyes off of him. The flushing of your face made it hard to breathe and the twisting in your lower abdomen was making your head whirl. The muscles of his back flexing every five seconds as he reached up in the cabinets for a cup was not helping. You gulped. “I need to sit down...”

“All right,” Pietro glanced back at you, holding the two cups of ice water. “You okay?”

“None of the medicines work,” you mumbled, hesitantly taking the from him. He sat on the coffee table in front of the couch, staring at you. You felt your neck get hotter and glancing down at your lap. “I just gets worse.”

“What does?” Pietro asked curiously. “What’s the issue? Nauseous? Headache?”

“Erm,” you took a shaky breath and squeezed your legs together. “Hard to explain. The plant, the one from Asgard that did this... it’s... it’s kind of odd...”

Pietro raised a brow. You had a death grip on both your cup and the couch cushion. Face beet red, you took a sip from your trembling hand, avoiding his inquisitive stare.

“How so?” Pietro asked.

“I don’t really know,” you mumbled. “Banner said it’s got these, like... coitus pheromones? I don’t really know what that word means, but he refuses to elaborate.”

It was Pietro’s turn to feel his cheeks grow hot. The word was the same in Sokovian, and he knew it was a fancy term for sex, but he was shocked that you didn’t know. You were supposed to be the smart one.

“Y/N... you don’t remember what it means?” he asked carefully. You shook your head.

“Do you?” you asked, finally meeting his eyes for the first time in a few minutes. Pietro bit the inside of his cheek. No wonder you were gripping the couch like a lifeline. This whole time, he had assumed you were moaning and groaning because of pain. His chest felt hot. “What’s it mean?”

“It means sex, Y/N,” he told you slowly. “If Banner says it’s got “coitus pheromones”, that means it’s like... it really is like alien viagra. Like I had joked about before…”

He saw your eyes grow wide, your chest beginning to rise and fall with greater speed. You averted your eyes away from him in almost an instant, pressing your lips together in a thin line and shrinking back as though to pretend he were not there.

“Great,” you mumbled. Pietro shrugged.

“S’not like you didn’t know what it did,” he said honestly. “You’ve been feeling like this for more than a week, you’ve had to have some idea. Probably driving you up a wall, huh?”

You gave a dry chuckle. “Yeah.”

Pietro stared at you, watching the rise and fall of your chest. “I could help you. If you wanted me to.”

You gave him a very odd look, brows furrowing just a bit. The air felt warmer, as though someone had turned off the A/C. “What?”

“You heard me,” Pietro muttered, and now it was his turn to shrink back, his back hunching. “Only if you want...”

“I can’t ask you to do that,” you mumbled. Pietro pursed his lips.

“You’re not,” Pietro said simply. “I’m asking you if you want me to help you.”

“I...” you bit the inside of your cheek, and he watched you take a deep, steady breath. “Of course I want you to.”

“Well...” Pietro trailed off, staring at you, awaiting your word. His knees were practically touching yours, the head radiating off of him making you grip the couch tighter.

“Well, what?” you asked. His hand left where it had previously rested on his lap and latched onto your knee, sliding upwards at a snail’s pace.

“Can I?” he asked softly. “Help you?”

You glanced down at where his hand rested on your thigh. Back up at his eyes. Jesus christ.

“Yes.”

You could’ve sworn you saw his lips twitch upwards, a half-smirk half-smile fighting to curl onto his face. You didn’t bother dwelling on it, though, considering you were too focused on the fact that his other hand was on your other thigh, his hands sliding up and down your leg leisurely before coming back down onto your knees.

He pushed your knees apart, his calloused fingers digging into your bare skin, pale blue eyes never leaving yours. You took another shaky breath, swallowing anxiously. He lowered himself off of the coffee table he had been sitting on, kneeling in between your knees. His fingers crawled up to the fabric of your pajama shorts, tugging on the hem.

“Y’know these gotta go, right?” he asked rhetorically.

“Mmhm,” you gulped and did nothing for a second, but as he continued to tug on them, you took the top elastic and pulled it down until it reached his hands. He did the rest of the work, discarding them beside where he knelt.

Your underwear was a light blue, which just so happened to be Pietro’s favorite color (this was a coincidence, you swear). He hummed in approval and spread your knees apart wider. His eyes darted down, spotting the darkened patch of fabric right over her sex. He gave a smirk and snapped his eyes back up to yours again.

Saying nothing, he brought his hand closer to you, running his index finger up and down the darkened fabric. You shuddered. He was barely putting pressure on you, but it seemed the pollen was making even the slightest touch feel a million times more intense than it was.

“These also have to go. As much as I like ‘em,” he said, tugging on the azure fabric of your panties. You felt yourself smile a bit.

“Okay,” you rolled your eyes, but grabbed the hem and pulled down down. Pietro grabbed them off of your ankles, and lifted them up in front of his eyes.

“Can I keep these?” he asked. You kicked him with your foot.

“Creep,” you said. He chuckled and put them on top fo your discarded pajama shorts. “Can you please just...”

“Just do what?”

You huffed and mumbled something unintelligible. He pressed his thumb to your clit rather harshly, moving in small, quick circles.

“What was that?” He asked as you gasped, hands grappling at the edge of the sofa. “What do you want?”

“Everything,” you breathed, your stomach fluttering. Pietro hummed.

“Well, I don’t have time to give you everything, but I can give you a... what do you call it? A taste?"

And then, before she could say anything more, he dove forward and pressed a kiss to your clit, eliciting another gasp from you. He skillfully traced his tongue up and down the length of your slit before returning to your clit, where he wrapped his lips around the bundle of nerves and sucked. You slithered a hand down to tangle in his hair, grasping at the white-blonde locks.

“Christ, Piet,” you breathed. You felt him smile before he lifted his mouth up for a second, licking his lips. Locking eyes with you, he brought himself back down to trace circles around your entrance with his tongue. Without a second to waste, he brought his hand up and plunged his index finger inside, pulling it out to only shove it back in over and over again.

Your head fell back onto the cushion of the couch, back arching, one hand grappling at the back of its foundations while the other grasped onto Pietro’s hair. Pietro’s eyes flickered back and forth between your half-lidded eyes and the finger that was moving in and out of you, and with a rush of adrenaline, he shoved his middle finger inside, too.

Curling his fingers, he brought his mouth to your clit. “Close, huh?”

“Uh-huh,” was all you could find words for, the combination between his fingers and his mouth making your vision go blurry and your mind go blank. “Uh-huh.”

“C’mon, dragă,” he coaxed, his words slightly muffled by his lips being pressed to your clit. “Give it to me.”

Back arching, the coil inside of your lower abdomen finally began to unravel at high speed, body spasming over his long fingers as pretty moans slipped from between your lips. Pietro was grinning as he sucked at your cunt, feeling your velvet walls tighten around his fingers as you orgasmed.

When the noises from you ceased, and your breathing began to slow, he pulled his fingers out and sat upright. His eyes flickered up to meet yours, and just as they locked, he put his fingers into his mouth and sucked them clean. You shivered.

“Feel better?” he asked casually. You paused.

“Yeah,” you said in shock. “I actually do.”

“Told you,” he smirked. You smiled at him.

“Thanks.”

“Of course,” he replied, getting off his knees and sitting beside you, handing you your underwear and shorts. “Would’ve done it even without the pollen, y’know.”

“Yeah?” you raised an eyebrow. He gave a firm nod. “I’ll have to take you up on that, then.”

translation:

“Buna dimineata.” - Good morning

“O, la naiba.” - Oh, damn it.

“Dragă.” - Darling, Sweetheart, Love

taglist:

@childishnewt @mcximffs @minbeatriz16 @slvtforfictionalcharacters @kaqua @thorrealgf @pagesbetweensheets @xlucyintheskywithdiamondsx @eichenhouseproperty @niallhoransupremacy @criesinlies @fairydxll @cassiestars777

a/n: this is painfully unedited im sorry.

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elliewluvr · 24 days

Text

sells | ellie williams

pairing: drugdealer!ellie x f!reader

summary: ellie’s a popular known drug dealer at your college which just so happened to be hosting a large party where you and ellie bump into eachother.

content warnings: 18+ SMUT MDNI, drug use, alcohol use, partying, fingering, slight degradation and praise, reader receiving, almost getting caught, tons of kisses

dont purchase tlou2! support palestine 🇵🇸

there you were, laying in your dorm room with an face mask on that was in the middle of moisturizing and cleansing your pores.

outside of your door, you could hear girls laughing as they walked down the halls to head to the assumed frat party that everyone has been raving about for the past week.

you on the other hand, WERENT interested in going, despite the amount of messages your friends and classmates sent you in hopes of you showing up.

it wasnt that you hated parties, you just didnt want to go to this party in particular since the people hosting it are pretty much all dicks.. hard pass.

you let out a sigh, rolling over onto your stomach as you checked through your social media and messages, immediately clicking on the 9+ messages your best friend sent you on instagram.

her: arent you coming to the party tonight?

you: yeah ill pass, i think im gonna stay in and watch movies tonight

her: hell no, you promised youd come out with me tonight. youve already missed every other party there’s been

you: damn i forgot about that

you: fine, ill be ready soon. just give me 30 minutes.

her: mkay, sounds good!

you rolled your eyes playfully, liking her message before plugging your phone up to get some extra juice into the battery.

lifting your body from the mattress, you jumped from the high bed and proceeded to head to your shared bathroom, washing your face from the skincare mask before starting on your makeup.

—

as promised, you were ready with 30 minutes. your hair freshly flat ironed and your makeup flawless and nearly perfect as always. you were dressed in a simple croptop and shorts that paired nicely with your converse.

you grabbed your phone and purse, applying a bit more lipgloss to your lips as you proceeded to leave your dorm to meet your best friend at hers.

your knuckles raised to gently knock at her decorated door, the slight smell of weed and perfume coating your nose once the door opened.

“hey sexy, come in.”

she gave you an wide smile, pulling you into the room before closing the door behind you as she immediately went back to adjusting her hair in her vanity mirror.

“hey, i thought youd be ready by now.” you said, letting your feet lead you to her bed, sitting down on it while you watched her.

“i am, just making sure i look perfect. you know whos gonna be there tonight.” she said before standing to grab her purse while smirking to herself. you on the other hand let out an laugh, knowing she was referring to her ex.

“i thought you were over him, what happened to that?” you asked, earning a sigh from her as she grabbed her keys and opened the door to her dorm, “well remember how i told you he showed up to my dorm a few days ago?”

“uh huh? dont tell me you fell for it.” you said before standing to follow behind her closely, looking over at her with an disgusted expression.

“i cant help myself around him, you know this.” she said, making you roll your eyes and laugh a bit, “yeah yeah, whatever you say.”

—

there was an good little walk to the frat house but once the two of you made it there safely, the fun began. people were everywhere, some laid in the lawn while others stumbled around and danced drunkenly to the music that was slightly muffled due to being outside.

you looked around, a bit in awe from half of the campus being at this very party that you were so tempted on turning down. “girl come on, we have to get drinks.” your best friend said, grabbing your wrist to pull you into the crowded and hot house.

for all the windows to be opened, it surely was too muggy to be in for too long. there was people dancing on eachother, playing drinking games, smoking, and even an few who were making out sloppily.

you let out a laugh once you reached the kitchen, grabbing a red solo cup that was stacked up for the guests, “i didnt expect the party to be so packed tonight, theres so many people here.” you said, speaking over the music that blasted through the house while pouring yourself some tequila.

“yeah, i told you it was gonna be fun, im glad you came.” your best friend said, smiling as she grabbed the bottle from you to pour herself some as well.

you smiled, leaning over to give her an hug before looking up to meet eyes with the famous ex that she was referring to earlier. “oh shit, look who it is.” you said, watching her eyes immediately latch onto him.

“should i?” she asked while looking over at you for permission. you nodded, although you didnt wanna be alone, the two of you are both adults so you let her.

she smiled at you, laying a gentle peck on your cheek before throwing back the liquor in the plastic cup. “ill be back, if you go anywhere else make sure to text me and tell me.” she yelled over the music, making her way over to him.

you took a sip of your own liquor, leaning against the counter in the non crowded kitchen. you gently rolled your hips to the music that was playing, the bass of the music hitting your ears better than it would with headphones.

a few moments passed along with a few drinks, at this point you were more tipsy than you thought you were and upon your friend not returning, you were starting to get a bit paranoid.

“you here alone?” you heard a raspy but smooth voice say, turning around to be faced with a auburn haired girl who was dressed in an basic hoodie with the sleeve rolled up and cargo shorts.

you knew exactly who it was, ellie, who was the most known drug dealer around campus who just so happened to be your classmate and project partner.

“uh. oh no, im here with an friend.” you said, analyzing her face that suited her voice perfectly. she looked so good, some of her hair pulled back out of her face which helped you see her freckled features.

she nodded, smiling a little, “makes sense, do you smoke pot?” she asked while pulling out her lighter from her front pocket to spark the joint she had in her opposite hand.

ellie leaned forward to put her ear to your mouth as you spoke, “yeah.” you said, laying a hand against the counter behind you.

she placed the joint between her lips, inhaling the smoke a few times before handing the joint to you, “well, here you are.” she said, watching you grab it from her.

“lets go somewhere more private. its so loud, i can hardly hear you and im shitty at reading lips.” she laughed while her low hazel eyes stared into yours.

you giggled a bit, “okay, lets find somewhere.” you said, nodding at her before grabbing her hand to lead her out of the kitchen and up the crowded staircase, inhaling the joint a couple more times once the two of you reached a unoccupied bathroom.

ellie shut the door behind the both of you, your lower back pressing against the bathroom sink as you inhaled the smoke and looked at the auburnette in front of you.

there was a sense of silence between the two of you, ellies eyes looked on you whilst you blew out the smoke and returned the same eye contact, “save some for me, baby.” her slightly raspy voice let out before she grabbed the joint from your fingers.

your eyes landed on her fingers and how long they were. long, slender, and veiny hands along with a sexy forearm tattoo that you knew for a fact would look so good wrapped around your neck.

you attempted to shake the thought from your head as she hit the joint and tilted her head at you, “im surprised you come to these kinds of parties, thought you were a good girl.”

“oh? well yeah, i havent been to any this year.” you said, looking at her who was stood in front of you. she let out an soft laugh, “makes sense.” she said, blowing the smoke away from your face.

“its nice to see someone i know here.” you said with an smile before feeling her place a hand on your one of your hips, “yeah definitely, glad i came over to you .” she said earning a hum from you.

“shit, we have that project together.” you said as you subconsciously laid your hands on her shoulders. as much as you hated to admit it, you were crossfaded and it happened so damn fast.

“i forgot all about that, we have another week to complete it.” she said, tossing the burned out joint onto the floor before stepping on it to put it out, “sounds like we need to formulate a study sess, huh?” you said.

ellie let out an laugh as she nodded, looking back to you. “yeah, definitely.” she said while the bathroom grew quiet despite the muffled music and talking from outside.

“you look really pretty when youre not in school air.” you heard her say, instantly making you laugh.

“do i? thank you. ” you replied, looking into her green eyes while she wrapped her arms around your waist to look at you, “is this okay?” she asked, tilting her head at you who was smiling.

you nodded, your eyes landing on her lips that were a bit flushed. ellie noticed how your eyes were drifting all over her, from her hands to her arms, and now from her eyes to her lips.

“do you want me to kiss you?” she asked you who was still a bit fixated on her lips while she smirked, “whyd you ask?” you said, feeling yourself grow immediately embarrassed once you noticed she could tell where your eyes were.

“i mean, youre the one looking at my lips. are you sure you dont want me to kiss you?” ellie asked, smirking a bit slyly as she pulled you closer to her.

you thought for an moment, teeth attaching to your bottom lip while you pressed your chest against hers, body leaning forward to connect your lips.

although you were in your sophomore year of college and was supposed to be having the most hookups and one night stands one could have, you didnt. the thought of fucking someone who couldve fucked half the school just wasn’t something you were interested in.

even though ellie was an well known junior around school who sold pot to pretty much everyone without getting caught, she wasnt to fond on fucking alot of people either but something was different about you.

the only person she was interested in was dina, a popular senior who seemed to have good grades but yet, always made time to attend every party there was. did i mention dina and ellie are exes?

despite the two of them being broken up, ellie and her still remained good friends regardless of anything which was good. since the breakup with dina, el’s focused on selling and keep her grades good enough so joel wouldn’t scold her.

until she ran into you.

she smirked against your lips whilst sliding her hands up your shirt. she made sure to make the kiss deep and controlled, letting her hands glide over your satin bra.

“good girl.” she mumbled against your lips, taking an hand from under your shirt to your neck as she placed an knee between your thighs, making you whine into the kiss.

you felt your stomach growing a bit tight while your purse slipped from your shoulder to the floor, a soft gasp for air passing through your lips as the kiss progressed. her hands sliding back up your shirt to palm your breasts.

“fuck.” you let out softly, eyebrows furrowing while she pulled away to kiss and suck your neck. this feeling making you a bit needy before you decided to buck your hips forward against her knee.

oh how that was a bad decision, the action making ellie pull away to land an slap on one of your thighs, making you squeal, “be patient, dont get greedy or ill stop.” she said, her eyes low and red.

you felt yourself nod subconsciously, obeying her commands while she unbuttoned your shorts to slide a hand into your panties, “im gonna make you cum on my fingers, do you understand?”

you nodded, watching in awe as she slipped her hand under your bra to massage your nipple, her fingers rubbing between your slit at an agonizing pace.

ellie let out a sigh, watching your face closely while being sure not to stop her fingers from rubbing and massaging your clit, “fuck!” you let out, eyes glossing over whilst you wrapped your hands around her tatted forearm.

“feels good, huh? such a pretty girl for me. open.” she said, smirking happily prior to drawing circles over your budded clit, your pussy practically dripping in her palm as she lifted her free hand to her neck.

you opened your mouth, moans coming from you nonstop with no words since your mind was too fogged to even start a sentence. ellie pushed two of her fingers into you, your insides gripping around her digits desperately.

the auburn haired girl nodded while looking at you, sticking her tongue out to kiss you sloppily as she curled her fingers in you in search of your spot.

you couldn’t help but moan into the kiss, arms wrapping around her neck before gasping out in pleasure, your head falling back, “ellie! dont stop!” you moaned, feeling her place kisses on your chin.

“thats.. right there!” you whimpered, “yeah? listen to how you sound. take it like a fucking good girl.” she said in an raspy tone, making your legs tremble.

ellie curled and yanked at your spot, her eyes completely latched onto you as you stared back at her with furrowed brows, teary eyes, and slightly parted lips.

“i want you to come all over my fingers.. let it all out for me baby.” she said, feeling your legs grow a bit more weak which caused her to grab ahold of your waist out of reflex, holding you upright.

you felt your stomach tightening, your pussy gushing and squelching over her fingers that repeatedly pushed into your spot. your mouth fell open as your breathing grew heavy, your chest beginning to rise and fall quickly.

“im gonna cum!” you let out, earning a hum from ellie before nodding, “cum for me, give it to me baby.” she said, smiling while watching you.

your eyes rolled back in awe, her fingers speeding up quickly, “pretty girl, look at you.” she said as you started to clench over her fingers, cumming on her fingers and in your panties.

ellie smiled, “goodjob, you like my fingers huh?” she said, leaning in to kiss you while you panted against her lips, slipping her fingers out of your pussy to rub your sensitive clit that was throbbing from the orgasm and not being touched.

the feeling made you whimper into the kiss, hips trembling and shaking, “why dont i go back to your dorm with you?” she said against your lips before pulling away, “yes please.” you moaned, her fingers continuing.

the two of you jumped at the sound of there being banging on the door, the sound of the doorknob twisting made ellie tear her hand from inside your pants once the door opened.

“motherfucker! someone’s in here!” ellie yelled, pushing the door back shut with an look of frustration covering her features.

frantically you turned around to button your shorts and pick your purse up from the floor while ellie started to wash her hands from your juices.

“i mean what the fuck? people dont know how to knock now and days?” she said, completely annoyed. you on the other hand acknowledged how cute she looked frustrated, watching her through the mirror as her eyebrows scrunched together.

once she finished drying her hands, ellie snatched open the door, immediately being greeted with an long line of people behind the door.

“cmon ellie.” you said to her who gave angry looks back to everyone else who mugged the two of you, “assholes.” she said to the people who stormed in past her, making you place a hand on her lower back to push her out.

as entertaining it would’ve been to see an fight, you werent interested in seeing it at that moment. more so ready to get in pajamas and cuddle.

“well, back to my dorm huh?”

“yeah. of course.”

should i make a part two?

thank you for reading, i hope you enjoyed!

#black writers #ellie williams #ellie williams smut #ellie smut #ellie the last of us #ellie x fem reader #ellie x you #ellie williams x reader #ellie #ellie x reader #ellie x y/n #tlou2 #ellie tlou2 #lesbian #wlw post

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rafeandonlyrafe · 1 month

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the compound part two

words: 2.6k

warnings: very brief illusion to sex (still sfw), alien apocalypse au!, violence, guns/shooting, little bit of angst

part one / part two

you let out a groan as you wake up, stretching before realizing you aren't laying atop your usual bedroll laid over grass and soil, but rather a real bed.

“shh, it's okay.” rafe presses a kiss to your forehead.

“oh my god, it was real.” you open your eyes to rafe hovering over you, a look of slight concern in his eyes.

“it's real, im here.” he says softly. you look down at your body. rafe had partially undressed you to make your sleep more comfortable, as well as bandaged the cut on your leg.

“was it bad?” you ask, tilting your knee to see your calf. the gauze is completely clean and sterile white, not something you've seen since the aliens came.

“it wasn't too deep. you won't need stitches but will have to stay off it for a bit.” rafe moves to lay down next to you, letting you snuggle into his chest. you block it out for a minute. block out the pain, the fear, the death and destruction. in this moment, it's just you and rafe.

“i also cleaned you up a bit. still sleep just as deep.” rafe smirks. you examine your body closer, arms and legs gently washed clean from the dirt and grime built up that felt inevitable.

“how did you get here?” you question. “how did you become in charge of all of… this?”

“my uncle, the one in the military. he was stationed here. i figured since he was high ranking, he would be kept in charge of the base while the other soldiers went to fight the aliens…” rafe continues to explain his story. how as soon as he arrived, his uncle made him his right hand man until the base was attacked by aliens. rafe managed to survive along with a few others who looked to him for leadership. they reinforced the base and expanded ever since.

“how much food do you have?” you ask.

“enough.” rafe simply says, which makes you frown and pick your head up to look at him.

“is it true you don't help anyone? even those who beg?”

rafe sighs. he knew this topic would inevitably come up. you have a soft heart, sure you've built up walls after being burnt too many times trying to help others, but your nature is still gentle and sweet compared to rafes.

“i gotta put my men first. i can't just give handouts to anyone who wants them. we'd have nothing left for ourselves.” rafe hopes the explanation is enough to dissuade you. “but you're first now, baby. the men here will protect you. you don't have to fight anymore.”

you allow rafe to turn you onto your back, to kiss you while hovering over you, relaxing his body into yours as you reconnect, trying desperately to make up for lost time.

“when is the next hunting party going out?” you ask rafe, scratching your fingers over his head, rubbing through his hair as he looks at the various papers scattered on his desk. maps of nearby areas, lists upon lists of ingredients, even a guide to native plants.

“probably dawn tomorrow. we are hoping for deer.” rafe says, glancing at the schedule that he has planned out. more detailed for upcoming days, while far off plans are just jotted in.

“can i go with them? im pretty good with a bow.”

rafes hands stop shuffling through the papers, air in the room suddenly going stale. “y/n… it's not safe outside the fence.”

“i lived outside the fence for months. i can hold my own. plus, your guys will have guns.” guns can be hit or miss after the aliens shut down a lot of technology, but thankfully the military ones kept in the base were in pretty good working order. still, everyone prefers their deer to be taken down with arrows.

rafe pushes away from the desk, turning to pull you down onto his lap. “no. im sorry. just… no.”

“rafe, im going to go fucking crazy just staying inside the fence. you barely even let me outside.” it's been two months of adjusting to compound life, two months of reconnecting with rafe, watching him lead with confidence and authority. two months of the itching feeling to move growing.

“i know the alien attacks have lessened. a lot of people think they've pulled out, but we still have occasional sightings. you know how quickly things happen. if you're outside, you're vulnerable.”

you sigh, seeing the look in rafes eye. so much pain and hurt. “okay.” you nod. “okay, not tomorrow. but at some point, i need to do… something, anything.”

“we'll figure it out.” rafe nods. “i promise.”

“thank you.” you nod. so many things have changed about your dynamic since the end of the world, but it still feels familiar at moments, you sitting on his lap, leaning forward and pressing your lips against his.

“i need you.” you whisper against rafes lips, hands moving down his chest.

“i should keep working.” rafe hums, even as his hands move underneath your shirt.

“but you won't.” you giggle.

you stand behind rafe as he hands out assignments. compound life is a lot different than anything you expected. they focus much more internally, whether it's reinforcing the base or making things more comfortable for the men and few women there.

“klaus, tim and fiona…” rafe reads off the names, the three stepping forward. you know tim a little bit, with him being one of the closest men to rafe, but you haven't interacted with most of the people, rafes orders keeping everyone busy.

“we are turning the central courtyard into a garden. fruits, vegetables, whatever you can get to grow.” rafe explains. he's taken you past the central courtyard before, completely surrounded by compound buildings. it'll be a lot of work, it's completely overgrown, no big trees but years of brush build up.

“y/n.” rafe calls you forward next. you blink at your boyfriend before stepping forward. “you'll be project lead.”

“yes- yes, sir.” you've never called rafe sir before, but it seems right considering the environment, everyone else addressing him as such. rafe didn't mention this assignment to you, but you're glad he did as he hands you a packet of papers, nodding to you to head off with the three compound crew.

you glance back at rafe as you head out of the auditorium. he's already assigning new orders, but catches your eye, nodding to you for encouragement.

you go through the papers with everyone, finding the three people rafe chose an easy mesh. you should have known, they're likely hand picked for you rather than for the actual project.

“i was a botanist before…” klaus says, pausing when your eyes widen, clearly surprised. you never would have guessed a man with such a hard exterior had a job like that before the aliens came.

“a lot has changed since.” klaus grunts out. “everyone is different.”

“i know.” you frown, breaking eye contact. “i didn't mean any offense.”

silence stretches out until fiona clears it with a clearing of her throat. “well, as a botanist or whatever, what plants or shit do we… well, plant.”

you like fiona already. it makes sense that she has been thriving at the compound, her personality being even tougher than most of the men.

klaus begins to explain, and before long the day is over, parting ways as you head back to rafes chambers.

“sorry i sprung that on you.” rafe says when you enter the room, clearly holding back to see if you're upset. “i just wanted to give you something to do.”

“it's okay, i understand.” you nod. springing it on you also deprives you of the chance to say no, which you can't blame rafe for. “it's also good that the rest of the compound sees me contributing.”

“it is.” rafe nods. “can i kiss you then?”

“yes, im not mad.” you smile at your boyfriend, wrapping your arms around his shoulders as his lips meet yours.

“our canned food is running low. barely, but it is. this garden is really important, baby.” rafe says softly. “whatever plants grow best, we will be planting more.”

“it's a good plan.” you nod. “sustainable.”

“i guess it makes sense.” you shrug as you fill out your reports. it seems silly to hand in papers stating to rafe what you tell him every night, but it's important to document the progress of the garden.

“what does?” tim questions, also charting his own responsibilities, having split up the work between the four of you to make it easier.

“that the native plants are the ones growing best.”

“i didn't even realize that.” tim laughs, his southern accent thick. he's one of the few at the compound who were stationed here before the attack, originally from louisiana, but claimed he has no interest in going back, knowing there's no one out there waiting for him.

“i think your boy toy is thinking about expanding the garden.” fiona smirks, always coming up with creative names for rafe, especially after seeing the way he hovers over you, even shooting daggers into klaus when he got just a little too close while planting seeds.

“that'd be great. i know we have canned food still and the deer but having fresh food is so needed.” you look up to the courtyard, having chosen to work in an office with a view of the garden. the fresh air is also great for you. you know it's the real reason rafe gave you the job. it allowed you to be outside while still being surrounded by four walls.

“let's call it for tonight.” tim says, setting down his pen. “we have all of tomorrow to work on the reports too.”

“sounds good.” you nod, waving goodbye to everyone until you're the only one in the room. you look out onto the flourishing garden once more before heading out. you know you're not truly alone as two men shadow you, armed to the teeth with guns and knives. your protection, sanctioned by rafe. you turn the corner of the compound, hearing their footsteps speed up to keep visual of you.

instead of turning down the hallway leading towards rafes bedroom, you turn the opposite way towards the exit. you take a deep breath upon pushing open the doors, allowing yourself to breathe in the fresh air, the smell of trees and nature thick instead of the musty smell inside the compounds old walls.

“ma’am.” a harsh voice rings out from the shadows, making you jump. “rafe said to keep you inside.”

“oh please.” you roll your eyes. “the compound hasn't been attacked in months. ill be fine.”

at the capping of your words, a gunshot sounds from further down the fenceline. “get back inside, now!” the man yells at you, sprinting to see what was shot at. maybe it's just a misfire, or someone got lucky and saw a deer.

your detail finally realizes where you've gone, the doors opening behind you as shouts sound out from where the gunfire was heard. you look back at the men, sworn to protect you. they usher you back inside, but instead you turn the other way, towards the noise and action.

you just want to see what's going on as they creep behind you. you get closer, having to squint through the darkening sky to see that the fence has been torn down in one section, flattened like a stampede has rolled through. that's when you hear it. the familiar clicking and rattling associated with the aliens. you hold in your gasp, knowing noise will just attract them towards you as you press your back into the brick wall, hoping that you're camouflaged as you peek around the corner of the building, seeing the alien, a grotesque mix of bloody flesh and robotic gears and metal.

“y/n!” a familiar voice whisper-screams at you. “i need to get you back inside, now.”

you turn away from the corner as the alien bends down over a man who is clearly already long gone to see tim, a gun in hand.

“kill that thing.” you gesture your head around the corner, wanting it gone before it can do any further harm.

“my orders are to keep you safe. ill get you inside first and then we will take it out.” tim explains in a quiet voice. you both realize far too late that it wasn't quiet enough as the clicking gets closer.

“run!” tim shouts, throwing himself around the corner, gun spraying bullets as you sprint, the two guards pull you back, pushing you across the opening towards the closest doors.

you scramble when you hear a scream from tim. “no!” you shout, grabbing one of their guns. one you barely know how to use, but you need to save your friend.

you rush back around the corner when you see the alien over top of tim, one of his arms in its disgusting mouth. you let out a war cry, hoping the bullets previously sprayed into him will be enough for your shots to be the final straw and kill it as you raise your gun, firing at least enough to distract the monster, head turning towards you.

you back up but continue shooting, joined by your guards who quickly flank you. it must be a mature alien, with how many bullets its taking to take it down. you back up, allowing the men to shoot as you back towards the entrance, ready to take cover if needed.

“y/n!” rafe shouts, bursting through the doors. “get inside, now!” your gun clicks, out of bullets. you drop it and run to rafe, letting him pull you inside. you look through the windows on the door, through the thick bulletproof glass as the alien finally falls.

“tims hurt, he needs help.” you tell rafe, but he doesn’t seem to hear you as his face is one of anger.

“you disobey me? i told you to stay inside, and look what happens when you don’t listen!”

“disobey?” you rip yourself out of rafes hold, taking a step back as men rush out the doors between the two of you, to help tim, get rid of the aliens nasty carcass, and most importantly to the compound, repair and reinforce the fence, the alien obviously able to exploit a weak spot.

you press your back against the wall until the stream of men stop. “in case you forgot, i’m not one of your soldiers. im your fucking girlfriend.” you stomp away from rafe, knowing he can’t follow as he has to lead the men outside.

“tims fine.” its the first thing rafe says to you as he enters into your bedroom. you’re changed into your pajamas, but are sat on the edge of the bed, feet dangling as your toes touch along the soft rug.

“his arm from the elbow down wasn’t saveable, but he’ll live.” rafe undoes his weapons before moving to kneel in front of you. you should speak, reply, but you can’t force your mouth to open.

“i’m sorry. sorry for treating you like that.” rafe places his hands on your knees, glad that you don’t push him away. “i love you. i love you so fucking much and i don’t want to lose you. i’ll give you what freedom i can but- but i need you to keep yourself safe too. if you wanted to leave the building that badly, you could have told me.” “i know.” your voice is hoarse. “i love you too.” “im just so fucking scared all the time. i think about you constantly. whenever i can’t see you, im just fucking anxious.” rafe places his head into your lap, relieved when your fingers rub over his scalp, his hair cropped short in the same fashion as most of the men.

“you’re not gonna lose me, rafe.” you promise him. “we found each other. here, at the end of the world, we made our way back to each other.”

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bonezone44 · 3 months

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'Doesn't Nothing Ever Last Forever?' (18+)

Raider!Joel x afab!Reader

Word Count: 5,4k

(FYI: woman in moodboard is a side character.)

Summary: You worked in a brothel outside of a quarantine zone. Every once in a while, you got a visit from Joel and his men. This was your first time being around for one of those visits. (Reader is severely depressed and bisexual [relatable, amiright?]. Reader is not popular at the brothel.)

tags: DEAD DOVE, DO NOT EAT (tagging this to be safe!) Kidnapping, sexual slavery, group sex, overstimulation, rough oral (m). POV switching, canon-typical violence. -- Sex between Reader and Joel is non-con. Reader enjoys it, but the larger context doesn't allow for consent. Fingering, unprotected p-in-v. Degradation. Finger-sucking. Spanking. Orgasm control/denial. Joel is turned on by Reader's history w/ women. Reader is called slut, good girl, bad girl. Reader calls Joel "sir."

A/N: Written for @iamasaddie's writing challenge. ✏ I was so excited by their moodboards, I had to participate. Also, read @toxicanonymity for the original Raider!Joel which heavily inspired this one. 🙏 And special thanks to @milla-frenchy for helping me choose a story line. 😘

story masterlist - main masterlist

+++++

The days bled together, one right after the other. No matter how clear the skies were, a permanent fog had taken over your mind.

The only reason you woke up that evening was all the commotion. You heard the roar of diesel engines and loud men laughing and yelling. The slamming of car doors. Then those voices got louder and closer. Obviously, they had made their way inside your building. You knew you should rise and shine. Get to work. But you stayed curled up on your bed cushion in the shared room as long as possible. Even after your boss had been calling for you.

It wasn’t the kind of job you punched in and out of. You lived in a brothel. You were paid by the client–and even then sometimes all you got was a spare coin or two. A ration slip, if you were really lucky. But those could only be spent at the nearby Quarantine Zone. And the four hour trek there and back was hell on your feet and knees.

Your boss, Larry, finally opened the door to your room, but didn’t say anything. Instead, he allowed the noise and chaos to do the job of waking you up.

You unfurled from the floor and wandered to the bathrooms, bare fit sticking to the tile floors. You had hoped no one would catch you and make you work. You hadn’t had it in you to do anything that day. What you really wanted to do was float away, fly with the clouds on the wind to somewhere far, far over the rainbow.

You found Trisha at the sinks, under the sickly green lights, already washing cum from her hands.

“Joel and his crew are here again,” she mumbled. There was a tremor in her voice.

You nodded blankly. Tired.

She turned around and stared at you with wide eyes. “Joel,” she emphasized.

“Okay?” You shrugged. Your eyes bored into a growing mold stain in the corner.

She scoffed. “Joel is the guy who bought Carrie.”

“What?” … ‘Bought Carrie?’ That didn’t sound right to you. “I just thought… she left.”

Trisha stared at you, aghast. The room was cold, but steam began to fog the mirror. “Are you fucking kidding me? You were there!” She shouted. “You were there when Larry told us he sold her for the fucking water heater!” She pointed at the filling sink.

You blinked. “...Oh.” You wiped your eyes with your hands. “I don’t… really remember.” Her words didn’t quite click it into place for you, but a dull memory played in the back of your mind. You remembered a ‘house meeting’ and hearing Carrie’s name a lot. You remembered getting the water heater. You remembered everyone being upset and yelling at Larry. You remembered curling in the corner, your brain checking out and wandering through the static of your own mind rather than feeling something–anything–in your own body.

That explained all the weird looks you had gotten later when you expressed excitement over the hot water. You had been happy about something for once and everyone responded by staring at you like you were a freak.

But everyone you had ever met always felt so far away. Like you were so deep in the depths of your own mind that the world around you was a movie you were watching. All the people in your life were characters playing out their roles. So you did, too. You went through the daily motions, following some imaginary script in your mind. Playing a part. Doing whatever you thought you were supposed to.

Trisha started telling you more stories about Joel and his crew. About their violence. But none of it sounded real. It sounded like another movie to you. You stood, unmoving, wishing you had some bleach to clean the mold in the corner. You wanted to scrub the grout until it was pure again. Wipe away the layer of filmy mildew from the ceramic tiles. Disinfect every inch of porcelain in this piece of shit building.

Another woman entered the bathroom, fully nude. “Well, look who decided to show up!” she spat at you. “Go out there and do your job. I need a fucking break.”

You sighed and resigned yourself to your fate. “Okay,” you muttered without meeting her eyes. You didn’t bother looking in the mirror or worrying about your clothes. You knew that in your line of work, they didn’t make a difference either way.

You walked out to the main room and saw about a dozen men scattered around the couches, women in their laps or on their knees.

One woman was sitting naked in a guy’s lap while another guy roughly rubbed and slapped her clit. His laughter grossed you out. The woman was crying.

Another woman was getting facefucked and choking. She pulled back to cough and breathe. The man she was sucking on held himself in a tight grip. He pushed the hair from her face and whispered softly to her, wiping away her tears, before shoving his cock right back in.

You nodded at the scene unaffected… well, mostly unaffected. You stared into the middle distance and focused on no one person in particular. The women’s moans were mostly performative–it was obvious. But the men didn’t seem to mind. Their moans were hungry and horny, enjoying whatever stimulation they seemed to be receiving. So that was what you focused on. Their blatant sexual desire. It fueled your own heat. A fire expanding in your chest and between your legs. Your mouth began to water. You sucked in your bottom lip, eager to feel flesh inside you.

You weren’t sure how long you were standing there, watching. It merely occurred to you at some point that one of the men was walking up to you, blocking your view of the scene. He wore a dark brown leather jacket over a v-neck shirt. A small, shiny gold cross hung around his neck and against his sunburned skin. He wore blue jeans and work boots.

Your boss, Larry, yammered in one of your ears at him.

“Joel,” he pleaded with clasped hands. “I’m sure you’d prefer someone like Trisha or-or-or Cameron. I’m sure, she’ll be right back out any minute!”

“No,” Joel says gruffly. “Her,” he pointed to you with his chin.

“I’m sure. I’m sure.” Your boss chuckled uncomfortably and surrendered with empty palms. “Of course!” He grabbed you by the arm and tugged you toward the back of the building. He snarled in your ear. “Don’t fuck this up for me.”

You wanted to shrug him off, but his grip was bruising. What could you ‘fuck up’ exactly? You had been working there for over a year. You weren’t popular, but you got the job done. You didn’t get along with any of the other women there, but what did that have to do with this guy, Joel?

Larry took you and Joel to one of the farthest rooms. It was the nice one with a real bed instead of a mattress or cushion on the floor. You had never been in it before. Not even to clean it. You looked around appraising the paint on the walls. There was a window, but it was dark out. The noise from the main room was barely audible. You liked being somewhere quiet again.

#######

Joel and his crew pulled up around dinnertime in two pick-up trucks. The sun had set and the truck’s headlights bathed the front of the old office building in a warm, dull yellow.

The crickets were louder than hell that night. Joel remembered that much.

Not five seconds after his boys hopped out the trucks did the brothel owner come skittering out the front door with a nervous grin on his face.

Joel liked that. Piece o’ shit like that should be nervous.

Joel hated Larry. The man was fucking pathetic. Weasel-y. So needy and desperate to please. Joel hated that Larry sold him a woman for a water heater. What kinda man would do something like that? This was supposed to be a brothel. The women were supposed to be his employees. He didn’t have the right to sell anybody.

But Joel had wanted her. And taking her outright would have caused more problems than it would have solved. So he figured a water heater would help keep things peaceful between them. Because his boys liked the brothel. Each little trip helped ease their minds. Gave them something to talk about and look forward to–something other than survival.

Joel’s needs were more permanent. He needed something more full-time rather than once every few months.

His boys started hooting and hollering as soon as the payment of supplies were unloaded and they got to hang out inside. The women weren’t even around yet, but they were more than ready for some physical entertainment. Joel remained standing while the rest of them spread out along the decaying leather couches lining the walls. A shitty little cd player sat in the corner playing old R&B music. He heard his brother, Tommy, singing along to it.

Joel sighed and wiped his face with his hands.

Once Larry brought out a few women, the men started roaring. They were shouting and cheering, pulling their cocks out in excitement. Joel groaned. These boys didn’t know a goddamn thing about seducing a woman and their sad little dicks weren’t gonna get them anywhere neither.

Two of the guys grabbed one of the women, causing her to shout, but Joel was on them not a second later. He gripped their skulls, one in each of his giant hands, and knocked them together like coconut shells.

“Ouch! What the hell, man?” asked one of them, rubbing the sore spot on his head.

Joel shook his head with his eyes wide, boring into the depths of their souls. “Not until I say,” he spat.

They both tucked their heads under, murmuring. “Yes, Joel.” “Whatever you say, Joel.”

The woman got back in line while the boys sat down on the couch.

“I’m sure I’ve got a couple more on the way,” said Larry with a forced smile. “They’re just getting themselves cleaned up, I’m sure, after uh… after finishing dinner.”

Joel grunted. He knew what he wanted–knew what kind of woman he was looking for. And he was quick to realize that none of the women in the room were it. So he waved his hand and his men let loose.

Joel stood with his arms crossed and his back against the front door. He kept his eye on the two troublemakers. Kept his ear on Tommy. Tommy was a talker. He loved to chat up the working women as if he was in a bar back home in Texas and looking to find himself a girlfriend. Joel thought Tommy was being ridiculous—acting like the women could say ‘no’ and walk away. Like he had to put real effort in. It annoyed the hell out of Joel. He wanted his crew to have their fun and be done with it. Why did Tommy have to make it so complicated?

Joel was getting bored and antsy the longer he waited. He was feeling needy, too, with the rough sounds of sex filling the air around him. But he was hopeful, preferring to be patient. And if, in the end, there was no woman he wanted, he would pick one at random and blow off some steam. He would find a replacement some other time or start looking around at the nearest Quarantine Zone.

Then you walked in.

And at first, Joel was ready to shrug you off, too. Sure, you were attractive. But looks weren't everything. That's what got him in trouble with the last woman.

But something in your eyes changed as you scanned the room, taking in the sexual depravity. You didn't shrink in and shut down. You were turned on. He saw the way your chest rose and fell as your breaths shallowed and shortened. The way you chewed your bottom lip. The way you squirmed. That's what Joel needed. Someone as needy as him.

The brothel owner tried to dissuade him. Huh, Joel wanted to laugh. As if that asshole knew a goddamn thing about what Joel wanted–about what Joel needed.

“Take your clothes off ‘n get on the bed,” he ordered after slamming the door shut behind him. He liked how quickly you complied. He didn’t understand why you were so calm, though. He unbuckled his belt, releasing the pressure from his stomach and allowing himself some room to breathe. He let the buckle hang and it jingled as he stepped closer to the bed.

“All fours.”

Again, you complied swiftly and smoothly, facing the back wall.

He eyed you for any sores. Then he slipped his bare hand around the smooth curve of your ass and his fingertips prodded around your lips and entrance. You were already wet, he realized. He slid the edge of his fingers forward against your clit.

You moaned. Something fake and bland.

He pulled his hand away and slapped you on the ass. “Hey.” He grabbed you by the cheeks when you didn't immediately face him. Your eyes never met his. “Don't fuckin showboat me,” he warned.

“Okay,” you said flatly.

He didn’t like how detached you were. How unafraid. But he willed himself to be patient–the amount of wetness coating his fingers eased his anxiety. He continued to play with your folds as he asked questions.

He cleared his throat. “You like workin here?”

You shrugged. “It’s a job.”

“How long you been here?”

“About a year.”

Joel hummed. “I don’t remember you from last time.”

“Probably had the flu.”

“You got over it okay?”

“Mm-hmm,” you nodded, closing your eyes. You seemed to like it when he moved his thick fingers around you real slow. He liked that.

“You got anything else? Any diseases?”

You shook your head. “I don’t get a lot of men.”

Joel paused. “Why not?”

You shrugged. “I dunno. They like the other girls better.”

“Why’s that?”

You shrugged again. “They’re better at fakin it.”

Joel didn’t know how to feel about that answer. He continued to rub your clit, feeling you get slicker. “So what? You do handjobs, blowjobs?”

“Mostly.”

He noticed an uptick in the tone of your voice. “You like doin those?”

“If the guy is cute.”

He slid his fingers from your clit to your entrance to your other hole. He didn’t push in, only pressed against it, and you sighed. “What about this?” he asked, biting his lip. “You like gettin your ass played with?”

You hung your head and nodded. “If they do it right,” you said with another uptick in your tone.

Joel liked that. “Ever have a train run on ya?” He slid his fingers back to your clit.

“Yeah,” you answered with a whimper.

“You like it?”

Your breath hitched as Joel’s fingers sped up. “Been through worse.”

“Worse? Here?” Joel asked, wondering what could happen at a brothel that was worse than a gang-bang.

“No just… you know…” you sighed with pleasure. “--in general.”

Joel furrowed his brows. You were being honest with him. Too honest, in his opinion. But you were rolling your hips into his hand. And he didn’t want to make the same mistake twice.

He shoved two fingers inside of you without warning. Your body twitched and you moaned–and it was different this time. Quieter. Realer. Joel liked that. He didn’t mind taking his time to get you ready if he knew you would enjoy it.

“You like fuckin, huh?”

“Who doesn’t?” You snickered, pushing back into his thrusting hand.

Joel took a deep breath, maintaining his composure. But he knew then that he wanted you. That you were just what he needed and more.

#######

You liked this Joel guy. He took his time. He was asking you questions, trying to get to know you. You don’t remember the last time anyone had done that. …Well, maybe when you first started working there. Trisha and Carrie and a couple of the other women tried, but this felt different for some reason. Like it was leading somewhere. Like there was a promise at the end of it. Like maybe he really wanted to make you come and he wasn’t just there for himself.

And you liked his voice. It was smoky and deep. He had an accent like a cowboy. It was comforting, in a way.

And his fingers felt nice. He knew what he was doing. You couldn't remember the last time a guy got you that wet with just his hand.

Part of you felt a little hopeful. You thought you might finally get to have some fun like the other girls did. Most of the guys you got were ugly or just plain ol’ depressing. Another part of you couldn’t stop thinking about Carrie for some reason. You’re not sure why she kept coming up in your mind. You two never worked together. You barely knew her at all.

“You ever fuck the other women here?” Joel asked.

“Mm-hmm,” you hummed in proud affirmation. It even pulled a smile from you.

“What's that mean?”

You weren’t sure how you expected him to react. You weren’t sure why you answered that way. “It means… yeah,” you replied while embarrassment burned your cheeks. You had barely looked at him before, but now you really didn’t want to see his face.

“Yeah, you like fuckin women?” His voice turned breathy. You heard his buckle jingle and the slide of the zipper of his jeans.

It turned you on to know that he liked that. Some men hated it. Made you feel like shit for it. But man, this Joel guy was something else. It made you want more of him. More of his fingers. His voice. His skin. “Yeah,” you moaned and shoved yourself harder into his hands, thrusting his fingers deeper.

“So what? You lick their pussies? Rub your little cunts together?”

Your mouth hung open from his words. “yeah,” you said with a hot breath. He pulled his fingers from inside of you and drew circles on your clit. You started whimpering. You nodded your head as fire burned in your core and across your skin.

“That’s why you work here, huh? You got a needy little cunt?”

His fingers were moving so fast, the muscles in your legs were jumping and your toes were curling. “Uh-huh,” you moaned loud enough for your voice to echo around the bare room.

“That why you left the Q-Z? This slutty hole wasn’t get fucked enough?” His fingers slid back inside your entrance. You’re not sure how many he stuffed in, but it was more than before.

You nodded with a desperate moan, your right leg slapping the mattress beneath you in frustration. You needed more. His fingers, his words–they weren’t enough. Your body was hot and sparking and you needed-needed-needed. “Joel, please,” you begged, turning to face him, finally opening your eyes again. He was stroking himself and the sight of his cock made you drool.

“Whatchu need, sweetheart?” He asked and you could almost kill him for it.

“Please, please fuck me, Joel. Please.”

“Need it that bad, huh?” He kicked off his boots and shoved his pants all the way down to the floor.

You got out of the way as he crawled into the bed and sat up against the headboard.

“Come and get this cock, you fuckin slut,” he growled. One hand held his length while the other pulled you by the arm.

You were too hungry to notice how tightly he gripped you. You hovered over his lap as he lined himself up with your entrance. You stared at the curve of his lips on the way down, the mix of gray and brown hairs in his mustache. But there was white on his cheeks and chin. You briefly wondered how old he was. But you couldn’t bring yourself to get a good look at his face. Too busy melting from the pressure of his cock stretching your walls. Fuck, it felt good. You braced yourself on his firm, wide shoulders and brought your hips back up a few inches before sinking down on his length even further. You groaned and tucked your head into his neck.

#######

You started sucking on his neck and his hips began to thrust up into you.

“It ain’t enough that I’m stuffin your cunt?” he grunted. “You need me in your mouth, too?”

You moaned against his throat, sending goosebumps all over his skin. “Yeah,” you said through panting breaths, before latching back on, teeth and tongue digging into his muscle.

Joel liked you. He really liked you. You were wet and riding him just right. You weren’t mechanical about it, neither–like Joel was just another job to you. There was a sadness to you, sure. It was probably why you didn’t get a lot of men. Men wanted to forget their troubles at the brothel. Have some fun. They wanted the world outside to disappear with their cock inside a woman.

But Joel had tried that. And it hadn’t worked out so good.

So this time, he looked for someone different. Someone who would understand. Someone who would get why he needed to fuck and when and how he needed to fuck, too.

And you were telling him everything he needed to know. He was learning what you wanted and what you liked and what he could use to threaten you into compliance.

He pulled you away from his neck, not sure how he felt about being covered in hickeys. “Here,” Joel prodded your lips with his middle and ring finger. “Suck on this, you greedy little slut.”

And you did, moaning desperately as you rolled your hips in his lap. You gagged as he slid his fingers back and forth on your tongue, saliva spilling from the edges of your lips and down your chin. Your eyes were closed and he knew there was nothing going on in your mind. He knew you were focused on nothing but how good he was making you feel.

You started bouncing on his cock and he slapped your ass with his free hand. He gripped your hip hard enough to bruise, forcing you to stop.

“Did I say you could do that?”

Your eyes popped open–meeting his directly. You tried to pull your head away to answer, but Joel shoved his fingers in even further.

He repeated himself. “You tryin to come right now? Did I say you could?”

You let out a pathetic whine and shook your head.

He slapped your ass again and this time he noticed your pussy clench around him. He heard a small moan grow and die in your throat. “You come when I fuckin say you can come,” he snarled with his teeth clenched. He smacked your asscheek again and thrust up into you.

You whimpered and squeezed your eyes shut.

“That turn you on?” He gripped your ass in his hand. “You like takin’ your medicine, bad girl?”

You tried to turn your head, but Joel still had his fingers in your mouth and he held you in place. You looked at him with the most pathetic, pleading look.

“I asked you a question,” Joel growled with wide eyes. His cock twitched inside of you. “You like takin’ your medicine? You like bein told what to do?”

You squeezed your eyes shut again and quietly nodded.

Joel liked that. He liked that a lot. He took his fingers from your mouth and gripped your cheeks. Your eyes popped open again. He licked his lips. “You be a good girl and make me come first, then we’ll see what you get, okay?”

You nodded.

“Now what do you say?”

Your brows furrowed.

“When I tell you what to do, what do you say?”

Your face softened. You blinked slowly before answering. “Yes, sir.”

“That’s right.” Joel grunted and thrusted his hips. “Now, make me come, you little slut.” His fingers dug into your own hips to guide your rhythm to what he wanted. “Make me come and we’ll see what you get.”

“Yes, sir. Yes, sir,” you murmured again and again.

Your warm, wet cunt sucked him in and stroked him. He could hear it, too, how drippy and turned on you were. It wasn’t long before he tossed you off him with a grunt, throwing you onto your back on the bed. He only fisted his cock twice before shooting his spend on your spread open pussy, on the hair on your mound. He wiped his cum down and around on your clit. “Come on, girl. You can come now. Come on,” he chanted. He rubbed your clit back and forth with the flat of his four fingers. “Give that greedy little cunt what it needs. Come on.”

Your body curled in as you orgasmed and you moaned loudly into your arm. Joel didn’t see the need for you to be quiet, but it was too late to do anything about it now. He rubbed you with his thumb until your legs clasped shut and you squirmed away.

He wiped his hands on the sheets and got up from the bed. He pulled his jeans back on, but waited to buckle his belt. He sat back down and put his shoes on.

You were still lying where he left you. Curled up in the fetal position. It almost looked like you were falling asleep. He figured you might as well rest up now. The drive back home was a bumpy one.

He sighed when he stood up. He figured he should get the liquor bottles out of the truck sooner than later. He huffed. Larry was a real piece of shit for trading a woman for liquor. But Joel wanted you. And he was gonna have you.

#######

You were reeling. Sexually, you were satisfied, but every other emotion bursted and channeled itself through your muscles and across your skin. You felt so vulnerable. This man had seen you–seen you! Like you were a real person or something! Like you weren’t just a ghost or a character in a movie! Everything felt wrong and you couldn’t figure out why. And you couldn’t stop thinking about Carrie for some reason.

You stayed as still as possible until you heard Joel’s booted footsteps leave the room. You were grateful he didn’t say anything or try to touch you again. Your body trembled as you got out of the bed. You walked on shaky legs to the bathrooms to clean yourself. The world around you was so close and too clear. You could hear and differentiate everyone’s voices in the main room. The air was humid and you could taste it–actually taste it like it was a wet, moldy cloud in your mouth.

Your hands tremored. You tried to exert control over them, but you were barely able to turn on the sink. You mostly swatted at the faucets until water came out. And there was no comfort to be had in the warm, rushing water. You noticed tension in your cheeks and thought you wanted to cry, but couldn’t make any tears come out.

The woman in the mirror scared you. It was you. You knew it was you. But she felt unfamiliar. Three dimensional. You wanted to run. Run away to the Quarantine Zone or—or anywhere but here.

Then you heard screaming, shrill screams from what had to be one of the other women. Suddenly you were being dragged out of the bathroom. Trisha’s hands were on you. Her fingers were small and thin and her skin was smooth and cold. You had never noticed before.

The lights in the main room were so bright that you could see everything. Every small piece of leather that had flaked off each of the couches and landed on the dirty, carpeted floor. The carpet itself was covered in dust and dirt and leaves. Where did the leaves come from? you wondered. How did they get tracked inside? Weren’t people wiping their shoes like they were supposed to?

There were people moving around. Naked. Half-naked. Clothed. All talking over each other. And blood. Bright red blood. One of the women, with long gold hair, was covered in it, shrieking in pain with both her hands on her hip. Two others guided her past you towards the back. One of Joel’s men was apologizing to Larry. He had black curly hair and a thick mustache. Larry was screaming in his face.

You saw Joel from the back as he pushed himself up from the couch. His shoulder rose and fell with deep, heaving breaths. There was blood dripping from his fist and there was someone beneath him. Once he stepped away, you saw an oblong fleshy ball of bright red where a face should have been. The body beneath the ball didn’t move.

You folded in half and started heaving. Trisha shrieked in your ear.

“I’m so sick of you assholes coming here and-and-and-and–” Larry was caught in a loop as he pulled his gun from his pocket. It was a small revolver. You watched his gray-skinned thumb pull back the hammer. “I’m sure! I’m sure!” he yelled over the shouting.

The man with the black curly hair lunged at Larry with a curse.

The gun-shot stilled everyone in the room. It was loud enough that for a moment, you thought you had been shot. The vibrations pierced you to the very center of your being. But then… Larry was on the floor. Sprinkled with dust from the ceiling tile. And then there was more blood. Bright red blood spilling out from his body.

You breathed in relief. Not only that you were still alive, but that it was Larry that was dead. For a few beautiful seconds, you felt free. Free from his bullshit and free from the brothel. Free to go back to the quarantine zone and start over again.

Trisha’s smooth fingers pulled one of your arms, but something warm and calloused pulled your other. You looked up, confused. It was Joel. Joel’s hand, which had been on you only minutes previous, felt so strange and unfamiliar. You had just shared a bed with him but–that had been a different man. Certainly different than the one that stood before you now with blood-splattered on his clothes and sweat beading around his temples.

“You can’t take her!” Trisha cried, tears pouring out her eyes. “You can’t take her!”

“Sorry, darlin’,” he said. Joel’s eyes looked sad. “She’s mine now.”

Terror fell over you like a cold, biting wind. He was talking about you.

Your body started trembling again. You tried and failed to pull your arm away from his grip. “NO!” You shouted. Your vision went blurry as you sobbed. “Don’t take me! Please!” That was why you couldn’t stop thinking about Carrie. Joel had bought Carrie. Trisha had told you that Joel had bought Carrie. But the information hadn’t clicked into place. You had spent so long avoiding your body, avoiding feeling any emotion at all that when it spent all night trying to warn you, you couldn’t hear it. You couldn’t feel the siren in your gut telling you to stay away from Joel. And now that siren was loud and clear. But it was far too late for you to do anything about it. “Don’t take me! Pleasepleaseplease!”

Joel didn’t budge. He leaned in real close to you. “Now you told me you like bein told what to do.” Your face went fiery hot with shame. He yanked your arm, pulling you from Tasha’s grip. “And right now, I’m tellin you that you’re comin with me.” He continued to pull you out the front door, towards his truck.

“No! Nonono!” You cried. You tried one more time to shake him off, but it was pointless. He was too strong. You were too weak. And you started to wonder if you could have prevented this or if it was simply your fate. Your own boss hadn’t been able to say ‘no’ to these men. What could someone like you have done?

You sobbed into your hands as you sat in the truck. The man with the black curly hair got in the driver’s seat. Joel sat on the other side of you and rubbed your back in some sick attempt at comfort. “You be good for me–” he said, adjusting himself. “--then we’ll see what you get.”

+++++

a/n: Please let me know if I missed a tag. Also, idk if it's really a DDDNE story or not. ??

story title taken from the song "Mary the Ice Cube" by Primus.

#joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x afab!reader #✏️ game #✏ game club

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