#i would put a fitting image if i was awake enough to look for one rn

[spacedustmantis]

’come talk i don’t bite’ guess what. i do. fuckimg bites u

YEEEOWCH

#i would put a fitting image if i was awake enough to look for one rn #hey blue <3 #hope your day is going good #buggy thoughts #buggy answers #better than drinking alone #feeling blue

[mrsbuckybarnes1917]

A little thing I put together in honor of our dear Captain's birthday.

Summary: Steve is feeling a little lonely because he hasn't been able to spend as much time with you as he would like. He really, really misses you and takes things into his own hands while waiting for you.

Warnings: 18+ for language and sexual content, oral sex

Word count: 3k

Likes and reblogs will be very much appreciated 💜

It had been a long time. It wasn't that you weren't interested, it was just that you hadn't been around. In fairness, neither had he. 

Ships that pass in the night, and speak each other in passing. Only a signal shown and a distant voice in the darkness;

Tonight you had been a distant voice in the darkness, a crackly voicemail stating your likely late return home. Probably long into the night after he had fallen asleep. Steve sat down on the edge of the bed wondering how to fill his evening.

So on the ocean of life, we pass and speak one another, Only a look and a voice, then darkness again and a silence.

It seemed that ever since you had moved in, the stars weren't aligned and work kept you far apart. Steve had invited you into his home in an attempt to keep you close but it seemed lately you may as well have lived on the moon. On this day, hours before the day of his birth, he thought of you, and only you. He ached. From the depth of his soul, he ached to see you, to hear the melody of your voice, to feel the softness of your touch. Your touch. Your caress. Your embrace. The longing was deep, primal, carnal. 

In his mind he painted himself a picture, an image of his love, an outline of you. Longing. It brought you to life. Steve surrounded himself with the things that reminded him of the joy you brought into his life. As he sat on the edge of the bed, phone in hand, he flipped through pictures of your most recent adventure. They were a little ridiculous, but the memory made him smile. Even wider as he remembered how much you had laughed. He loved that about you, your joy. You brought it to every occasion.

His thumb flicked across the screen until he spotted one particular photograph. You were wearing a pair of shorts that were so short, they may as well have been a pair of underwear. This scanty piece of material was accompanied by a tank top and a bandana to keep your hair out of your eyes. Except that you'd been dancing around while cleaning and there were loose strands all over the place. He had caught the perfect image of you, doing the tango with a mop.

The way your body swayed to the music made him feel alive. He recalled how you had immediately abandoned the mop in favor of dancing with him. The recollection of that moment was vivid. Vivid enough for his senses to recreate your touch, your closeness. It evoked every sensation he had felt that afternoon, including the one deep down in his core.

Oh how he craved your touch, to feel you pressed against him. Steve opened his eyes and stared at himself in the mirror on your dresser. He wanted to catch just a glint of your mischievous grin when you intended to have your way with him. Something he was all too willing to be a part of. If only you could be there now. He coveted your smile, your lips on his, how you felt when he slipped inside you.

There was an old cardigan of yours slung messily over the stool by your dresser. You loved the fit and wore it as often as you could around the apartment. He picked it up and lifted it to his face, inhaling your unique scent, the one that made him feel at home, loved. The same way he did when he buried his nose in the top of your head. The same way he always did before you were intimate.

The aura the cardigan gave off, your aura, it was titillating. He couldn't help but notice the twitch in his boxers. Steve lay back on the bed, staring at the ceiling, cardigan cradled across his chest. He would have to wait. You wouldn't be home until late. Well past an acceptable hour to be awake. He had no choice but to wait.

Except his body didn't want to wait. It was a learned response. The olfactory center of his brain had been stimulated and the signals it was sending to his cock weren't easy to ignore. Now that it had started its ascent, Steve would have to try and think of anything else but you to head it off. It was as easy as trying to ignore the pink elephant sitting in the corner. You invaded every corner of his mind. He was just as smitten with you now as he was when he first met you, if not more.

One of his hands that had been clutching your cardigan ventured South, if only to assess the situation. People were apt to make mountains out of molehills, but in this case his problem was reaching Everest size proportions. The lightest brush of his fingers sent a throbbing ache up to his belly. It begged. There was no use in denying it.

When Steve put his mind to something it didn't take him long to achieve his goals. There was one guaranteed thing that he knew would satisfy his need. As he lowered his boxers and took his length into his hand, he spoke. 

"It's been so long, doll."

In his mind, the fantasy image of you answered him. "Longer than I'd like."

"I miss you."

"I'm right here," the vision spoke back.

"I want you, I need you. You make me feel so good."

He spoke out loud, into the empty apartment. Except it was no longer empty. In a frantic attempt to leave work, you had dumped an extraordinary number of files on a colleague's lap and run before they'd had the chance to protest. It was meant as a surprise, but it was you who was in for a shock.

Your entrance had been stealthy, the jingle of key in lock would go unnoticed on most days. You suspected that he would be asleep, always worn out after a day in the field, he deserved a night of rest. A frown crossed your brow as you heard his voice. Who would be he conversing with at such an ungodly hour?

A soft patter of feet carried you to the bedroom. You recognized his voice. You recognised his tone. The yearning in his words was evident. The yearning that he saved for you. Only you. But here he was, on the other side of this wall, speaking with the voice that was yours and yours alone.

"Touch me, right there. Only you know how. I want you, doll. I want to feel you."

Your face reddened. He only said those things to you. There was a fleeting thought of infidelity before you heard his next phrase.

"Nobody loves me like you do, doll."

Curiosity overcame consternation. Enough to take a peek. The image of Steve stroking himself was a sight to behold. The realization that he was fantasizing about you as he did it was electrifying. Your arousal was immediate. It was intense. It caught your breath and made your heart race. A flush crept until your cheek and your lips went dry. The scene in front of you was mesmerizing. You stared, hypnotized. His voice was enthralling. 

"I want to cum on your face."

Your face. He had never expressed that desire to you before. And you wanted nothing more than to please.

"Then cum for me, Captain."

Your voice made Steve sit up faster than his erection had come up, eyes wide and his hand still gripping his cock.

"I thought you were going to be late." Steve’s face had turned red, redder than the flush of arousal which he was already sporting. Nervously he brought his free hand down, attempting to cover himself with the cardigan in his hand.

"I didn't mean to startle you," you bit your lip, suddenly aware that you'd interrupted something very personal. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to- I'll just-" You started backing away.

"Y/N!" Steve called out your name. It was a reflex. He hadn't thought through what would come next.

"May I come in?" you asked shyly, returning to the position of hugging the door frame.

"It's your bedroom too, you don't have to ask permission." Nonchalance. 

"I don't want to intrude, if you'd rather-"

"I wouldn't!"

"You wouldn't want me to intrude?" you asked with uncertainty.

"I wouldn't want you to leave. I mean, isn't it evident that I would much rather have you do this?" There was a self conscious catch in his voice that didn't go unnoticed. 

You crept around the door frame and took a tentative step towards Steve. "I'm glad, because I'm not sure I have the ability to keep my hands off. Especially when for a moment there was concern that someone else's hands were responsible for those moans."

"Only yours, doll." That look. The one he saved for your most intimate moments. His dazzling eyes focused on yours. 

"Right then, Captain." You took another step towards him. "Let's see what you've got for me."

Steve felt a resurgence of blood in his cock. "I'll hand over the reins."

"Maybe you could hand over my cardigan before it gets covered in cum?" You put your hand on the fluffy garment.

"Maybe I would prefer it were covered."

"Marking your territory?" you asked, amusement etched on your face at how much his attitude had changed.

Steve grabbed your hips and pulled you close to him. "Doll, I can state that without a shadow of a doubt that there is no part of your body that I haven't already marked." He stroked your hip bone with his thumb in a wildly erotic manner.

"My body, no. But you mentioned my face before." You knelt down on the floor, between his legs and in the most sultry tone you could muster, you said, "Please. Tell me what you want."

"I want you, doll."

"What do you want me to do to you?"

"I want your mouth."

"As you wish, Captain."

You removed his boxers, tracing a trail along his thighs with the tips of your fingers. It made you smile to see the line of goosebumps which erupted on his skin. Gently you wrapped your palms around his shaft.

It started out with a kiss, chaste lips pressed against his tip. You smiled as he suppressed an excited moan. Anticipation. He felt it, so did you. Your lips slipped over him again, taking him a little further into your mouth. This time there was no trace of censorship, the sound that left his lips was extraterrestrial. It resonated through you, right to the throbbing in your ignited core.

"You like that, Captain?" You lifted your head and licked your lips with expectation.

Steve reached down to touch your face, pupils blown with desire. But there was a tenderness in his features which made you feel a new kind of warmth inside you. It made you want to give your boyfriend everything you had to offer. You offered him a coy smile before dropping your head again. Lips enveloped him, engulfing his head with the warmth of your mouth. You did as he had asked. Once, twice. The third time you dragged your now puffed up lips, you supplemented the action with a lap of your tongue against his meatus. He gasped. It was unexpected. Just how you wanted it. 

"Lie back."

"No."

"No?" you scoffed.

"I want to see you."

"I missed you too, Steve," you breathed the words, hot air onto his swollen member.

He reached down, gently capturing your lips with his. It was the first time he had kissed you that day. You'd missed his taste. That special flavor that was unique to him. A dash of coffee, a whiff of pancakes, a dollop of honey topped with a dousing of cheesecake which you'd stashed at the back of the fridge.

"Steve, I thought part of moving in together was for us to do things together?" you chastised.

"We are, look at us." He waved at how close your bodies were.

You gave him your most annoyed school teacher look.

"Tasted the cheesecake, huh?"

"You said you'd wait," you pouted. "I mean you even started this without me.

Just to wind him up further, you stroked the underside of his shaft, just under the head where he was most sensitive. Just to punish him a little more, you ghosted your upper lip over the tip, daintily running your tongue across the bare pink skin.

"Doll!"

"Captain?" you feigned innocence. 

"Please. Don't be like that."

"Like what Captain?" you finger his cock in a teasing manner, making him squirm.

"I know what you like." 

"Pray tell. Enlighten me." Every word was drawn out, accompanied by a swift sweep of your hand over his generous length.

"I know for a fact that you've always been partial to a salty snack," his eyes glinted mischievously.

"Actually, I've always thought you had a bit of a sweet taste. I know you do your best to hide it."

While Steve chuckled, you took the opportunity to take him back into your mouth. Tucking away your teeth, you hollowed out your cheeks and sucked hard, hard enough to turn his laughter into a strangled gasp followed by the most erotic groan you'd heard from him.

"Still think I'm hiding?" you mumbled, mouth still full.

Steve ran his finger through your hair, fingertips massaging your scalp, tugging at the strands lightly to help set your pace. His member throbbed lightly, you could feel it in your mouth. He was rapidly reaching his climax and you wanted to help him along as best you could. You edged one hand down to his balls, taking both into your palm and rolling them between your eager fingers.

Every moan that left Steve’s lips was music to your ears, fanning the flames of your desire. With every fiber of your being you wanted to touch yourself, find your own bliss, but you kept working on your boyfriend. Seeing him climax would be enough.

Instinctively his hips thrust towards you. It was a surprise. His cock slid further down your throat and he groaned, louder than before. His fingers chambered desperately at the duvet cover, trying to find an anchor for the oncoming storm.

You knew what he wanted. What he needed. But it was something you'd never been able to give him. Maybe this time might be different. It was now or never and you were ready to dive in head first. Slowly you bobbed your head. Deeper each time. Inch by inch. His tip grazed the side of your mouth, the inside of your cheek, nearing the back of your throat. Just a little further, that was all you needed. That one last inch. But try as you might, you could never quite get past it. Your eyes watered and you gagged. One more try. But your reflexes were unforgiving. You pulled back abruptly, collapsing onto your heels, coughing and gasping for air.

"You okay?" Steve leant forward immediately, concerned about your reaction.

"I'm sorry," you whimpered, disappointed at your body's refusal to do what you wanted. 

Steve cupped your face in his outrageously large hands and gently tilted your face up towards his. His middle fondled the angle of your jaw in a strangely comforting manner.

“You don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.”

“I do want to,” you said earnestly, emphasizing the word ‘do’.

“Come here,” he pulled you up and held you close to his chest.

“I just wanted to make you feel good,” your lip quivered slightly. You had no idea why you were feeling so emotional.

“Doll, you always make me feel good,” Steve comforted you. He has pulled you into his lap and you were aware that his cock was still pressing up against belly begging for a release.

"Would you let me help you finish?"

Steve couldn't help but smile. "Sure?"

You pressed your forehead against his, your noses brushed against each other in an Eskimo style greeting. It was intimate. Not intimate enough. Pushing your chin forward, you claimed his lips with yours. Gentle at first. But deeper as Steve inhaled your scent. Your tongues meet again with joy. There was nothing you wanted more than to finish what you had started. Well, technically what Steve had started.

It started out with a kiss. How did it end up like this? You touched your chest now. He took off your dress now. 

Steve sighed as he stared at your cleavage. "This is killing me," he groaned.

"I'm going to make this up to you Steve," you pushed him back onto the bed and snaked your hands up under his t-shirt.

"I'm not sure it's going to go up any further."

You snorted but didn't answer. Instead you straddled his hips, rubbing your lace covered crotch against his leaking erection. The friction was revving up your engine and you were ready to lose yourself in the pleasure. But you were determined to finish what you'd started.

Regretfully, you chambered off your partner's lap and resumed the position you'd had on the floor. 

"What are you doing?" His question was almost a whine, frustrated by the loss of your pressure.

Your answer came in the form of a series of licks. The tortuous vein that ran along one side of his magnificent member received an extraordinary amount of attention as you traced its journey from the base to the tip. The tip which was now flushed, pulsing with excitement, like a volcano ready to erupt. You took his head between your lips, more confident now. Lips sucking, tongue twirling, fist pumping. Over and over. Faster and faster. His breaths came hard and fast. Until that moment arrived. 

"Doll-"

You didn't stop. You didn't slow.

"I'm going to-"

The eloquent captain. Where were his words now?

"I'm-"

His eyes closed, abdominal muscles tensed. He had done his best to control his hips but now they jerked involuntarily. The thrusts were shallow and spontaneous. You tried to match your head movements so you could keep him in your mouth, but his cock slipped from your mouth as hot, white cum exploded across your lips with a strangled cry. Steve's body undulated as you took him back into your mouth, lapping off the sweet elixir you'd milked from him.

Once you'd had your fill, you climbed back up onto the bed to lay at his side. He turned his head to face you and smiled. You couldn't help but lean in to a kiss. Long, deep, savored.

When you'd stopped to take a breath, he said, "you were right."

"About?"

"It is slightly sweet."

You laughed. “Happy Birthday, Steve!”

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers smut #steve rogers x female reader #steve rogers x f!reader #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers #captain america #captain america x reader #captain america x you

[shes-homeward-bound]

Crash and Burn | Chapter 5

Summary: You’re the first female driver to compete in the Formula 1 World Championship in decades and it's your second year of navigating through a male-dominated sport. Your talent and drive to prove yourself made you vicious on the grid. Your seemingly unshakeable confidence was never questioned- until a certain Ferrari driver made you crash and burn.

Pairing: Carlos Sainz Jr. x Reader

Chapters: 5/?

Warnings: swearing

Word Count: 6.5k

Posted on 6/11/2022

masterlist

A/N: Hey guys, I finally have an update for you! I hope you all enjoy and please feel free to comment or send a message. I love reading your reactions and it tells me what works and what doesn't. Enjoy the chapter and remember that this is fiction, not an actual depiction of their character.

Chapter 5:

Wrapped in a cocoon made out of blankets, you blinked warily as a stream of sunlight hit your face. You looked around the beautifully decorated room and remembered that you were in a hotel. Your little sister was studying in Madrid for a semester so you decided to visit her during your couple of weeks off from F1. You arrived at the hotel late at night and you were so exhausted that you forgot to shower and went straight to sleep. With a combination of jet lag and a lack of rest from the race weekend, you slept for hours without stirring awake. You glanced at the clock and saw that it was already noon, groaning when you remembered you were supposed to meet up with your sister Elsie for a late lunch. You rolled out of bed and took a quick shower and put on a pair of jeans, a nice blue sweater, a tan trenchcoat, and a pair of white sneakers. You were dressed cute enough for a nice lunch yet comfortable enough to roam around the city. 

At the restaurant, you and Elsie ordered seafood paella and a small bottle of white wine. After a few pics of the food and tagging and posting the restaurant in your Instagram story, it was time to catch up. Elsie always had a million questions about the cars and drivers, she loved that you were in Formula 1. Elsie used to compete in karting with you but it was your dream to pursue a career in motorsport while she wanted to be an engineer that built race cars. 

You could tell Elsie was dying to ask you about Carlos. She knew that Carlos was one of the only drivers that acted strangely towards you and since she was your number 1 fan, she undoubtedly noticed the change in your relationship. Elsie fidgeted with her wine glass and you grinned, you knew what question was coming.

“So… what’s up with you and Carlos?” said Elsie.

You laughed. “I ran into him in Mallorca back in March and yeah, I guess we’re friends now.”

“But….” she said as she urged you to continue.

You took a large swig of wine before admitting your little dilemma. “But… the problem is I like him.”

Elsie erupted in a fit of giggles that garnered a few stares from strangers. “I knew it! I knew it! I knew it! You guys are so cute with your little pinky swears. Are you guys like secretly dating or something like that?”

“No!” you said urgently. “He has no idea I like him and I’d like the general public to also not know so keep your voice down!”

With a significantly softer voice, she responded. “Can you relax? No one heard me.” She scoots her chair closer to you and continued. “Well, what are you going to do about it?”

You shrugged. “I don’t think he sees me that way and even if he did, we’d be going into uncharted territory. I’m not sure if there’s a rule about dating a fellow driver but I’m sure the FIA would slap some stupid rule if they caught a whiff of any of the drivers together.” 

Elsie shook her head at you. “It’s so typical of you to start getting all negative. It’s almost like you enjoy thinking of the worst possible situations you can get into.” 

“You’re sounding a lot like Anna right now but you’re right, I'm working on it. You know how nervous I get when it comes to my image, these people are ruthless.”

“From an outsider's perspective, you’re still a badass female driver so I don’t think your image is in trouble here. What we have to work on is your perception of how Carlos sees you. I’ve watched every race so far and looked at all the interviews and fan content. Y/n… he looks at you with heart eyes. He’s so obvious.”

Now it was your turn to giggle. “He does not look at me with heart eyes.”

“Yes, he does! And the way he holds you when you guys hug makes ME blush. I don’t know how you compose yourself,” said Elsie. 

“You’re being ridiculous, if anyone is obvious it’s me because I practically launched myself at him after the race in Jeddah,” you said as you blushed remembering your actions.

The both of you resume your usual banter when you get a phone call on that distracts you. You look and see that it was an unknown number, you were expecting a phone call from Aston Martin headquarters so you excused yourself and answered.

“Hello?”

“Hi y/n, it’s Carlos.”

Your eyes almost bugged out. “Carlos? How do you have my number?”

Your sister leaped toward you and pressed her ear to the other side of the phone. You tried pushing her away but she wouldn’t budge. 

“Lando gave me your number a couple of days ago. Ehhh… I just realized that calling you might have been weird. I’m sor-” 

“No! No, it’s not weird at all,” you rushed to reassure him. “I’m just wondering why you're calling.”

“Oh my god, I’m embarrassed now. I saw on your Instagram story that you were in Madrid and instead of texting you I just called…?” 

The slight rise in his voice made you laugh. “Don’t feel embarrassed, I’m really glad you called. Are you in Madrid right now? If you want, you could meet up with me and my sister at the Prado Museum at 4.”

You hear him make a sound. Was that a sigh of relief? “Yes, I am. I’m visiting my family here in Madrid and I was just shocked at the coincidence of us being in the same city again.”

Carlos agreed to meet up with you and when you hung up, Elsie squealed. You sat back as you tried to process what just happened. You couldn’t believe he called you and you couldn’t believe that you invited him. You were also shocked that Lando gave Carlos your number.

“That was weird. The fact that he called you with no hesitation says something,” said Elsie.

You pursed your lips. You thought about it being a possibility but you quickly shook your head. There was no way. “Maybe Carlos is more of a phone call kind of guy,” you suggested. “I assure you that Carlos does not like me. So when we meet up with him in the museum later, please don’t be weird. Don’t be obvious.”

With a sly grin, she nodded. “Understood, I’ll be the perfect wing-woman.”

*******

Museo Nacional del Prado was beautiful, its grandiose demeanor should have taken your breath away but the sight of Carlos standing by one of the columns was all you could see. He looked like a casually-dressed gentleman dressed in a black jacket with a blue sweater peeking underneath and jeans with Chelsea boots. You liked it when Carlos wasn’t wearing any Ferrari uniform, you were able to see his fashion sense and it made you feel better about liking a fellow driver. Without the Ferrari red and Aston Martin green, you two were friends with no complications. 

Carlos finally spots you and with a smile, he walks over to you and Elsie. You give him a quick hug and introduce your sister who was acting way too giddy and chatty. You didn’t think Carlos noticed but you gave her a look that silently begged her to stop. Carlos laughed at the fact that you had just seen each other a few days prior and failed to mention to him that you were visiting your sister in his hometown. You replied that you just had a lot in your mind. I was too busy thinking about you, you thought. 

Once your little trio got tickets, Carlos surprised you with his extensive knowledge of the museum's permanent exhibits. You loved learning about history so you kept asking questions and would add some input whenever you knew some facts. Carlos was also such a great sport when it came to taking pictures of you and your sister. Elsie was the type to document everything in her life so she insisted that Carlos should also join you in some of the pictures. You wanted to smack her because every time she made you pose for a picture, she’d manage to find a way to shove you towards Carlos. 

 It was in a grand room filled with Southeast Asian art when you noticed how close you were both standing to each other. When you walked to the next piece of art, your arms bumped each other and stayed stuck as you both admired a statue. It made your heart pound that neither of you pulled away and now, his signature scent had engulfed your senses. You made a joke about the statue's awkward position and Carlos laughed and looked down at you from where he was standing. He was so close, you were mesmerized by his eyes when you noticed his gaze flicker down to your lips. You searched his face trying to find any indication of what he was thinking. A small smile graced him and you couldn’t help but replicate it.

Shuffling feet and an audible click of a camera made you whip your head around to see your sister frozen in place with her camera in hand. 

“Sorry! Don’t mind me, I saw the Diego Velazquez painting from across the room and rushed before people blocked it,” she said pointing to a nearby painting. 

Carlos abruptly stepped away from you. With a red face and stammering his way through a sentence, Carlos tried to nonchalantly brush it off and then pretended to be very interested in a nearby statue. You stared at your sister in shock, that moment was so intimate and you couldn’t believe it happened. With a wink, she discreetly showed the picture she took and you gasped. It looked straight out of some museum date Pinterest board. You and Carlos wearing a similar color palette while standing side-by-side gazing at each other. You thought she only took one picture but then she started clicking through her camera roll to reveal multiple photos of you and Carlos walking together. Some pictures made you inwardly groan because it was a candid shot of you beaming at the man next to you. It surprised you that no one had approached either you or Carlos and you were glad. You were being so obvious and everyone in the room could probably tell you had a big fat crush on him. You loved your fans but the last thing you wanted was to get caught in a mob with Carlos. 

You looked over to see that Carlos was talking on the phone.

“Oh gosh, he’s on the phone. Probably calling a friend to make up some excuse to leave,” you said. “I hope he doesn’t think I tried to kiss him or anything like that.” Elsie rolled her eyes at your unnecessary panic. 

Carlos walked over still red on the face and looking slightly nervous.

“I was just on the phone with my mother and she wanted to invite you for dinner tomorrow. But do not worry, I already said no and told her that you were here to visit your sister,” he said rapidly as he tried to gauge your reaction. 

Before you could speak, Elsie piped up. “Oh no, don’t worry about me! I have classes all day tomorrow and I have the rest of the week to spend time with my sister. Tell your mother that she can make it for dinner.” 

Carlos laughed at Elsie’s eagerness but looked warily at you for your response. He wished with all his might that you would agree to come to dinner with him and his family. When his mother called and found out that you were with Carlos, he was caught off guard when she made him invite you for a meal. With the recent self-realization of his feelings for you, he thought the dinner was the perfect step towards Carlos gaining your trust. 

With a deep breath and pink cheeks, you nodded. “I would love to have dinner with you and your family.” 

Carlos wanted to take a victory lap around the room but being the smooth operator he was, he gave you a charming smile and said that he would pick you up at your hotel. 

*******

This was probably the 100th time you fussed over your outfit while standing in front of the full-length mirror. You had spent the majority of your day running around the city preparing for this dinner with the Sainzs. You may or may not have stalked his family on social media and from what you learned, they were classy yet humbled and family-oriented. You purchased a bottle of nice French wine and arranged a beautiful bouquet. For your outfit, you had to find the perfect balance of dressy and casual. You wouldn’t dare upstage your hosts but didn’t want to get caught looking too casual. You opted for a dark green silk top and high-waisted black trousers paired with black pumps. 

You let out a small shriek once you received a text from Carlos saying that he arrived and was waiting in front of the hotel. You gathered your things and managed to make your way to the elevator without fainting. To say you were nervous was an understatement, you wanted to hurl and crawl under your covers. You tried convincing yourself that this dinner wasn’t a big deal, you’ve met a bunch of the other driver’s families but you couldn’t count that since you were all in F3 or F2 together. It also didn't help that you had a big fat crush on their son.

A small commotion outside the front doors made your stomach churn, that could only mean one thing. All hopes of staying under the radar with Carlos were thrown out the window but what did you expect? Of course, Carlos was going to get noticed in his flashy new Ferrari whilst he drove around in his hometown. What was going to make this a bigger spectacle was an Aston Martin driver hopping into Carlos’ car. You made a mental note to avoid your discovery pages on social media for the next few days. As you stepped outside, you saw Carlos perk up which sent the crowd's heads snapping toward your direction.

You immediately put your frustrations on the back burner and grinned as you made your way toward Carlos. Ignoring the crowd staring at both of you, he leans in for a hug. 

“Nice to see you again. You look beautiful by the way,” he whispered in your ear.

You felt your face get red hot. This was the first time he complimented you on your appearance. You manage to stammer out a quiet thank you before the fans started asking you for pictures and autographs.

You handed your things to him to place in the car and started signing some autographs that were closest to you. After a few minutes of chatting with some fans and practicing your Spanish, you and Carlos were able to start driving. Once you were away from the hotel, you and Carlos looked at each other and started laughing.

“Well, I didn’t expect that mini meet and greet,” you said. “I may be great with the media but I’m still getting used to all the public attention when I’m off the track.”

“Yeah, it took me a while but after 7 years in Formula One, you get used to it. The Tifosi are amazing and it’s nice to meet people who support you on race day,” said Carlos.

You hummed in agreement as you sat back trying to calm the nerves you were feeling. The dinner, the fans, and being completely alone with Carlos were stressing you out and Carlos could sense that something was wrong.

“Are you feeling okay?”

“I’m just a little nervous about meeting your parents.” You refrained from telling Carlos that you were a little wary of what the fans would say after photos of you and Carlos would circulate on the internet. If you opened up that conversation, it may get awkward and you wanted to avoid that.  

“Don’t feel nervous about my family, they’re already a fan of your driving. I know they’ll love you.” Carlos cringed as he said the last sentence. He made it sound like you were meeting your parents for the first time as his girlfriend. In an attempt to distract you, Carlos rambled on about who was going to be at the dinner. The distraction was successful as you and Carlos started telling each other about your childhood and your families. 

By the time you arrived at his house, the little incident at the hotel was long forgotten as you mentally prepared yourself to meet his family. You knew you were being dramatic but you felt like you were meeting the family of a significant other. Once you were both out of the car, Carlos insisted that he should help you carry your things so you handed him your purse and the bottle of wine. The bouquet that you helped arrange was enormous and you wanted to be the one that handed it to his mother. As you approached the house, you couldn’t help but smile at the sight of Carlos holding your purse. The whole thing felt a little domestic and the very idea made your stomach flutter. Shooting you an enthusiastic smile, Carlos opened the door to be instantly greeted by his mother and father. 

“Y/n! Hello, it’s so nice to meet you!” said his mother. 

Giving her your most charming smile, you handed her the flowers. “Hello Mrs. and Mr. Sainz, thank you so much for inviting me into your lovely home.”

“It is our pleasure, my dear,” said his father. “Please, call me Carlos Sr.”

“And call me Reyes, there is no need to be so formal.”

To your delight, Reyes absolutely loved the bouquet and set off to find a vase. Since you and Carlos arrived a little early, Carlos offered to give you a house tour. Your apartments in England and Monaco were nice but the Sainz’s house was on a different level. The house was modern but still held an air of elegance that whispered old money. He lead you to a living room that acted as a trophy room. Carlos proudly showed off his father’s rallying trophies and joked about his significantly smaller section of the room.

You pointed to his 2021 Hungarian P3 trophy. “I almost snagged that one from you, do you remember?”

Carlos chuckled, “I had to defend hard that race, my strategist was so nervous that he made me nervous. You were pulling maneuver after maneuver, you had me on my toes till the checkered flag.” 

You smiled as you relived the memory. “I remember being so frustrated with you, I was trying so hard to get by but I didn’t want to push too far and crash into you. You know, I tried to find you after the race but you were really good at avoiding me back then.” 

Carlos looked at you with shock then proceeded to laugh. He knew you were joking but didn’t expect you to call him out at that moment. “Well, I was a fool last year and I missed out on getting to know you. I was such an idiot.”

You shrugged, attempting to act casual after what he told you. “Yeah, it kinda hurt the way you acted but, that was last year. Besides, look at us now,” you playfully bumped your shoulder on Carlos. “I’m literally in your house about to have dinner with your family. I think it’s safe to say that we’re friends.” 

With that statement, Carlos felt a spark of hope for your relationship with him. If you admitted you were friends, then maybe you could be as close to him as you were with Pierre. 

Dinner with the Sainz’s was nothing to be scared of. You met his sisters and they greeted you with hugs and the same warmth his parents had shown you. At the dining room table, you were seated next to Carlos and Rupert, his trainer who was close to the family. The Sainz’s were so welcoming that it almost felt normal to be dining with them. Every once in a while, Carlos would get close and quietly ask you if you were okay and every time, you would assure him that you were. It was at those moments when his mother and sisters would watch your interactions, curious to see what kind of relationship you and Carlos had.

Since the weather was unseasonably warm, the group moved to the outdoor patio where the Sainz’s served more drinks. Surrounding a gas fire pit was an array of patio furniture. You and Carlos sit comfortably on a loveseat only to have his sister Blanca plop herself next to you. To make more space, you scoot closer to Carlos to the point where half of his chest was pressed against your back. You leaned forward for as long as you could but when Blanca made no attempts to move, you let yourself relax against Carlos. 

As you and the Sainz’s exchanged funny stories, Carlos Sr. asked who came up with the pinky swear idea. You were about to speak when Carlos beat you to it.

“Come on, you guys know me. Only y/n is capable of something that childish,” said Carlos.

You turn and playfully poked his side. “Carlos was the one who turned it into a good luck charm. I guess we’re both childish.”

Carlos laughs, “The pinky swear works! We have finished top 10 since the season started!”

As his family and Rupert bantered with each other, it was at that moment when you noticed that sometime during your exchange, Carlos’s arm was draped over your shoulder. Without thinking about it, you responded by nestling closer to Carlos and letting your head rest on him. You didn’t know if it was the wine that gave you the courage but if Carlos didn’t mind, neither did you. 

You and Carlos were so focused on trying to guess what the other person was thinking that they missed the absolute joy on Reyes's face. She could sense the two drivers were hesitant but she was convinced there was something between them. Watching them snuggled together confirmed her suspicions, Reyes just hoped her hard-headed son would allow himself to be with someone.

The drive back to your hotel was far from quiet. You wanted to talk to Carlos about that little cuddle you both had but you were too nervous. You opted to get all chatty and gush over his family. Carlos knew that you were a talkative person but with the way you were stumbling on words, he suspected you were nervous about something. He tried to remember if something went wrong during dinner but couldn’t think of anything. Carlos was thrilled that you got along with his family, his parents liked you so much that his dad and mom made a promise that they’d visit you at every race they’d attend. Carlos offered to walk you to your hotel room and you happily accepted. You continued to be extra chatty but once you both entered the elevator, there was a moment of silence. Carlos looked over to see that you were fidgeting with the rings on your fingers. 

“Y/n?” said Carlos.

You took a deep breath and faced him. “Umm, can we talk about what happened on the patio?” 

Carlos felt the blood drain from his face. Oh god, she was probably uncomfortable but didn’t say anything in front of my family. I fucked up. He stiffly nodded, waiting for you to reprimand him. 

You racked your brain trying to find the best way to say it but you couldn’t handle the silence.

“I didn’t mind it," you blurted out. “I don’t know about you but I’ve been feeling some tension recently. I can’t pinpoint when it started but I like spending time with you.” 

Like all the things in your life, you went full speed ahead but this time you made the wrong move. When you saw Carlos staring blankly at you, you flung yourself to the far corner of the elevator. “Aaaand I read this situation wrong. Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry Carlos. Forget what I said. Please, just forget everything I said.” 

You practically ran out once the doors opened. By the time you got to your hotel room, you felt him grab your hand. You turn to face him with your head down, you couldn’t look him in the eye. “Carlos, it’s okay, you don’t have to say anything.”

Carlos lifts your chin, making you look at him. “You were talking so fast, I was just trying to process what you said. If you didn’t run away I would have told you that I like spending time with you.” 

You studied him trying to find any trace of insincerity but all you could see was Carlos giving you the most gentle smile. “Really?” 

Carlos nodded. “I meant what I said back at my house, I was an idiot and I wish I had been your friend from the beginning.” 

Your heartbeat was erratic, going from feelings of panic to elation left you mentally and physically exhausted. Squeezing Carlos’s hand, you tell him of your plan. “Why don’t we both take it slow and spend time together to see where this goes? I have plans with my sister for the next few days but why don’t we go on a proper date sometime soon?”

“I was supposed to be the one to ask you out first!”

You rolled your eyes. “Well, I beat you to it.”

Carlos hugs you goodbye and before you could chicken out, you go on your toes and press a kiss on his cheek. Feeling shy, you left him no time to react as you quickly opened your door and slipped inside. Before closing the door, you stuck your head out. 

“Goodnight, Carlos.” 

He smiled at your silliness. “Goodnight.”

*******

The next few days felt like a whirlwind filled with many activities. Before getting called into work at the Aston Martin Headquarters, you were able to spend time with your sister and managed to see Carlos a couple of times. When you weren’t with Elsie, you would be with Carlos training to make sure your bodies were in top shape for the next race weekend. One night, you received the funniest text from Anna asking why Rupert had messaged her asking what kind of training she wanted me to do. She immediately called and made you explain everything that happened. 

Sometimes it felt strange to be around him now that you both knew you had feelings for each other but in a way, it gave you both freedom to express yourselves. Telling Carlos and being honest with how you felt made your life a little easier. You were beginning to feel that Carlos was a physical touch and quality time kind of guy which perfectly matched your love language. You relished in the small touches whether it was on your back, arm, or leg. There was a time when you both collapsed in a heap of exhaustion in Carlos’s backyard after Rupert pushed the both of you to your limits. It was like one of those movie scenes, you and Carlos examined the clouds and talked about anything and everything. It felt like a dream, you were working in your dream job and you had someone by your side that could understand your struggles. You were interrupted by Carlos Sr. who came out to offer you water and fruit. You weren’t sure what Carlos told his family but they seemed to like that you were spending time with their son.

You spoke to Carlos about keeping it discreet in public, you knew that it was inevitable that people would photograph you in public but you didn’t want to confirm anything until it was serious. You had discussed that if you two were to confirm any sort of relationship, your teams, Formula 1, and the FIA would have something to say about it. You and Carlos were in uncharted waters, this had never happened before and you both decided it would be best to not confirm anything to anyone just yet.

*******

You loved Australia, the weather and people were something you looked forward to and it would be your first time racing on this track. Qualifying had just ended and the excitement in the air was electric, Daniel was certainly enjoying himself as the crowd cheered for him. It was his best grid position of the year and the Australian fans couldn’t have been more proud. 

With the top of your green race suit dangling from your waist, you made your way to the Ferrari garage. The mechanics paid no attention to you as they cleaned the car prepping it for tomorrow. It wasn’t strange for you to be in another team's garage, they were used to you floating around and hanging out with Charles.

You make your way to the team of engineers and find Carlos among them as they reviewed his data on the monitors. Carlos spots you and brings you to a backroom and immediately wraps you in a big hug. Carlos laughed as he tried to let go but you hold on to him tightly, burying your face on the base of his neck. Carlos was starting P9 on the grid and he was furious at himself but he couldn’t even complain when comparing what happened to you. You and Latifi got into a scuffle during your flying lap that caused him to crash and for you to damage your car and get eliminated in Q1. The race stewards penalized Latifi with 3 grid places but it didn’t matter.

“I was fast at every practice and then Latifi had to swoop in and fuck it up,” you mumbled. “I could have made it to Q3 but now I’m P19 and the mechanics have to work overnight to fix my damaged side pod.”

Carlos rubs small circles on your back, “I know, I am so sorry it happened.” He couldn’t say anything else, the best thing he could do was comfort you. 

“I’m sorry you got P9,” you mumbled.

You felt Carlos shrug. “It is not ideal but I’ll just have to keep my head down and do my best. You and me both.” 

-

It was race day and you woke up with a mission, P19 was the worst you’ve ever qualified and you were determined to score points today. You had a specific routine for race day to the point where you were almost superstitious about it, but it helped you calm your nerves. You start your day by drinking 3 full glasses of water as you moved around and put workout clothes on. The next thing to do was to get your muscles massaged to prime them for 30 minutes of yoga. After you and Anna finished yoga, you texted Pierre. 

Breakfast?

I’m already waiting for you, ma chérie

Pierre had been one of your first friends in Formula 1, he invited you to sit with him and Yuki for breakfast and quickly became friends with the French man. The one time you didn’t have a meal with Pierre, you DNF’d the race. After that, you made Pierre swear to you that the breakfast was sacred and it was now an upheld tradition. Once you get to the hotel restaurant, you see that Yuki and the McLaren drivers were also joining you for breakfast. Once the drivers were situated with their savory breakfasts and special electrolyte drinks, is when Pierre mentioned something you wanted to avoid. 

“How was your break? I saw that you went to go visit Elsie in Madrid,” said Pierre. 

“It was great! I loved spending time with my sister, I rarely get to see her these days. How was your break?”

Completely ignoring your question, Daniel chimed in. “Oh! Carlos told me he was going to visit his family, did you guys meet up?” 

Lando perked up and you held back a laugh. You remembered that it was Lando who gave your number to Carlos and it suddenly made sense to you. Your dear friend Lando had been trying to set you up with Carlos. From sharing a private jet and giving Carlos your number, you realized they were all meant to get you two closer. You didn’t know whether to laugh or get annoyed that it worked. What made this situation great was Lando had no idea that you and Carlos were now somewhat “together”.

“Actually, the Sainzs invited me for dinner and it went well! I met one of the family members and we hit it off, I’ll be seeing him again,” you said.

You shook your head as the boys whopped and hollered. What made you laugh was the disappointed look on Lando’s face. You almost felt bad but you didn’t lie, you just withheld which family member it was. 

You heard a few pings from your phone and right on schedule, you received your good luck texts from your family. After talking with your family, you liked to shut off all contact until after the race and if anyone needed you, they’d have to call Anna. You were just about to shut off your phone when you received a text that made you grin.

Good morning beautiful. I hope I caught you on time, I remember you told me about your routine. I just wanted to tell you good luck and I know you will kick ass today. If anyone can pull a miracle, it will be you. See you soon.

You’re so extra. You could have told me this yourself, i’m literally seeing you in a few hours.

I know you get nervous on race mornings so I wanted to make sure you are okay.

You’re the best. I’ll see you at the parade. 

You couldn’t help the stupid smile on your face, he was so good to you. You didn’t notice that the boys were watching you until you heard laughing.

“Ooooo look at her blush! She’s talking to him right now!” teased Yuki.

Daniel couldn’t stop giggling. “He’s probably wishing her luck for the race today!” 

You quickly turned off your phone and gave them the finger. “Keep it up and none of you will meet him.” You smirked as the statement effectively shut down all conversations about your mystery man for the rest of the meal. 

The parade went by smoothly, it was set up differently this year with each driver sitting in separate classic cars. You were only able to give Carlos a small wave as you passed by his car to get to yours. The only time you were able to properly talk to him was during the grid lineup. Now that you and Carlos were together, you were more cautious when you were around him in public. Hooking your pinky with his, you hyped each other up but made sure you kept enough distance from him. Once the race started, you fought hard at the first few corners and were able to gain a few positions. By lap 2, your strategist informed you of a yellow flag, and before you could ask, you see a Ferrari in a gravel trap. Slowed down, you were able to tell that it was Carlos, and your heart sunk for him. Lined up behind the safety car, you noticed that Carlos had yet to get out of his car so you radioed your team if Carlos was okay. After being reassured that he was fine, you let yourself relax and get back into your race mindset. You were glad he was physically okay but knew that he was beating himself up because the championship was within his grasp.

By the time you crossed the checkered flag, you screamed into the radio celebrating your P10 finish. You only got 1 point but getting yourself from P19 to P10 was going to shut up those who doubted you. Aston Martin had yet to talk to you about your contract renewal but you knew this race gave you a fighting chance to stay on the team. You congratulated the others but amongst the chaos, you couldn’t find Carlos, and all you wanted to do was go to him and see how he was doing. Turning on your phone, you see a text from Carlos asking you to meet him in his hotel room after the driver interviews. After making sure you no longer had team obligations or interviews, you headed out to see Carlos. The moment he opened the hotel door, Carlos pulled you into his arms and held you like his life depended on it.

You wrapped your arms around him. “I am so sorry Carlos,” you said softly. 

Carlos shook his head in disappointment. “I cannot believe that happened, we had to change the steering wheel before the race and the new one triggered the anti-stall….. and I was so frustrated that I dropped down to P14. I pushed too hard and then I fucked up,” rambled Carlos.

Just like yesterday, the only thing you could do was comfort each other. You pulled back and looked him in the eye, “You are one of the best driver’s on the grid, you’ll be back on the podium in Imola.” 

Carlos took that moment and basked in your presence. His race might’ve been ruined but you standing before him and supporting him, took most of the sting away. Smiling down at you, Carlos admired that even in the disheveled state you were in, you still had this beauty that took his breath. Carlos chuckled when he noticed what you were wearing. In your rush to see Carlos, you managed to get into biker shorts but never changed out of your fireproof undershirt. It made him smile that someone as immaculate as you was willing to go out in public dressed like that. Carlos was weary about your relationship but every time you were with him, you lit up his world and he’d forget his worries. 

You looked up to see Carlos gazing at you deep in thought. Reaching up, you played with the hair on the nape of his neck. “What are you thinking about?”

“I’m thinking of how lucky I am and that I want to kiss you.” With your heart pounding in your chest, you nodded. Pulling him down, Carlos met you halfway. He kissed you softly as he wrapped his arms tighter around your waist. You pulled him closer and ran your fingers through his hair. Kissing Carlos was like a gentle breeze on a hot day, giving you relief and comfort. In his arms, all your worries about your driving, the media, and your future in F1 washed away.

don't forget to tell me your thoughts and reblog!

taglist: @oyesmendes, @forzaferraris, @harley-sunday, @thatoneidiot16, @haterpenny, @mysticalnightenthusiast, @laura-naruto-fan1998, @helluvahazelnut, @starjane312, @thatchickwiththecamera, @sticksdoesart, @xscorpioxmoon, @sanne-p, @lovingroscoee, @ruledchaos, @callmequeenbeee, @nochillnel

#carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz jr x reader #carlos sainz fluff #formula 1 x reader #formula one x reader #formula 1 fanfiction #f1 fanfic #carlos sainz jr #carlos sainz

[sakkiichi]

MATCHUP FOR @lilikags

hello, lia ! thank you for the info you provided and for trusting me to write your matchup, i hope you like it <3

i pondered quite a lot on my choice for who to match you with, i hope the result is satisfactory to you !

your genshin impact match is someone who, similarly to you, pursues creativity. while he is more prone to working alone, your ability to fit in well in a group is something beneficial to him, helping him open up more. like you, he can be a perfectionist as well, pouring his all into the work he does, which also happens to be his passion. though detached and seemingly aloof at times, don’t let yourself be fooled, he is extremely perceptive, knowing just what someone needs at any given moment.

well, is an image already forming in your mind? venture further into the mysteries of teyvat to find…

✧ ALBEDO

So, you and Albedo. Why do I think you’re a good match? Well, in my opinion, you share similarities, while being inherently different, like two sides of the same coin, the little contrasts making you fit, akin to complementary colors over canvas.

Your leadership qualities and bringing people together are characteristics that would go in very nice divergence with the Kreideprinz’s highly independent personality. While he tends to be alone while doing his research, Albedo is warm to his friends and is happy to meet new people. Your social affinity, even though according to your mbti type you’re introverted too, would play in his favor, serving as a bridge between the seemingly distant golden prince and the friends that look forward to meeting him. Besides, he’d feel at ease too, reassured he won’t be too overwhelmed if you are around.

Another aspect of your personality that made me lean towards the Knights of Favonius’ chief alchemist is your love for creative pastimes. Albedo highly values that, as seen in his own hobbies, painting and alchemy.

One of the chalk prince’s love languages being quality time, it is not rare for him to drop his experiments instantly as soon as your smiling face comes into view…

—

Warm light floods through bare trees, reflecting in shades of candlelight off of the abundant snow. Late winter’s approaching, the gates of spring within reach, contained in the chant of fluttering birds atop the cold mountains, in the slumbering cecilias that are starting to awake, in skies dyeing pink and orange and gold, as the sun still lingers for an evening stroll.

In your smile and the bounciness of your step.

The frost-kissed northern stars of the alchemist’s gaze set upon you, its stella illuminating your footprints over the grass-splattered layer of white.

A couple of notebooks under one of your arms, and what looks like brushes and a bag that can only contain inks and paints on the other, you brave the chilly breeze, the distance between you and your lover shortening.

A soft smile draws upon the prince of chalk’s iced lips, the gesture another mirror image of the blooms to soon sprout.

“Albedo!” You sing-song, somehow managing to wave at him, despite all the items you’re carrying.

He puts down his notepad, the pencil he was using haphazardly forgotten over his table, all the threads of thought in his mind leading solely to you.

Your lips form a crescent not unlike the moon that is to rise soon amidst the firmament of a dawning spring, when your partner meets you halfway.

The warmth of his proximity is enough to tempt you to lean your head against his chest, inviting you to dream sweetly.

And you’d do just that were it not for the several objects currently balanced on your grasp, and because you had planned this outing.

“My love,” he begins, the constellations not yet out already bright in his stare. “I would have carried all of this, dear.”

“It’s fine, it’s fine!” You perkily retort, a smile of your own linking the starlight in his gaze. “Are you ready now, Bedo? We’ve got so much to do!”

The prince takes a moment to memorize the lines of your visage, the curve of your contagious smile, the light and color that constitutes his beloved.

He could paint you a million times, yet none would come close to portraying the true magic he witnesses every time he looks at you.

Taking the bag from you despite your protests, Albedo falls in step by your side, your hands brushing every now and then.

Even though slightly out of breath, the trip you had planned is worth it. A frozen over lake extends before you, a myriad of dancing lights over its glazed surface. Shadows of a rainbow seem to form over it, as the sky deepens in hue, the color of late afternoons drinking warm tea from matching mugs with someone you cherish.

And yet, despite the natural light dimming, neither of you seem deterred on your respective creations.

Albedo’s svelte hands delicately hover over his sketchbook, light and dark colliding in the pastel watercolors that seem to come to life when he imprints them on paper.

Your side leans against the artist’s, dark ink filling the page you currently peruse, pondering if this or that is the perfect word to make a reality of the world taking form inside your mind.

When the wind picks up, announcing nightfall, you nuzzle further into Albedo’s body.

And because your focus is on the wonders you create through linked quotes, you don’t notice a new color being added into the picture-perfect scene.

As he feels your warmth pressed against his side, the alchemist’s cheeks take on a hue worthy of the most precious crystals.

If only all sunrises could be this color, you would think, the moment your eyes met his lovely face again.

—

You mention you always try to help others, and I genuinely believe that is a trait Albedo would find very endearing. From helping Sucrose with whatever she needs regarding her research, to finding a way for Klee to get out of solitary confinement, your boyfriend can’t help but stare at you with a fond look in his eyes, akin to the glittering surface of a clear spring on a sunny day. (Just make sure Klee doesn’t cause too much trouble while she escapes her scolding).

Delving deeper into your hobbies, if we consider a modern au and Albedo’s aforementioned love language, it is not rare for him to be busy doodling on his sketchbook while you play games on your phone. Comfy clothes on, I can easily imagine him curled up on the couch, while you lay your head in his lap, thumbs tapping at your screen to achieve the highest score (though nothing beats the feeling of your lover’s fingers delicately combing through your hair).

Taking your mbti personality type into account, you and Albedo are a very good match. As an INFJ, you tend to look for deep relationships, wanting to understand every puzzle piece that connects into your s/o’s mind. As an INTP, the chief alchemist seeks intellectual understanding of his lover. In addition, both your personality types are perfectionist and self-demanding, which can help you two understand each other’s motivations when really involved into an activity that piques your interest.

✧ RUNNER UP: FISCHL

While definitely more on the independent and “loner” side (not by choice), the Prinzessin der Verurteilung has plenty in common with you, especially when it comes to mutual interests.

She is one of the most creative and imaginative people you can encounter, her inner world brimming with life, heartache, and enigmas to be unveiled. Which I think pairs quite well with your love for art and writing. In turn, she’d feel understood, having met someone who also finds comfort in fiction and the arts.

If we talk about a modern au again, Fischl is definitely the type to play games. I think she’d enjoy rpg ones, but she’s secretly a fan of otome too, especially if the setting and aesthetics lean on a more gothic vibe.

Similarly to what I’ve mentioned in Albedo’s case, you could help Fischl be included in groups, and even though she tries not to break character, she is genuinely honored to make new friends. She may not verbalize it right away, but the blush she tries to hide with her hair and the smile she plays off are indication enough.

#astronetwrk #genshin impact matchup #genshin impact matchups #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact imagines #albedo x reader #fischl x reader #albedo x you #albedo imagines #genshin impact x you

[chitrolls]

I have no idea how to format this. Putting it into a post instead of an ask felt like the right thing because this turned out way longer than I thought it would. Thank you, @spectrology for the ask! I look forward to answering all the rest. This is really helping me knock some dust off. :)

CONTENT WARNINGS: Nightmares, mention of children in extreme poverty, immolation, and implied canon-compliant body horror that comes from being shoved in a helm, but nothing gory or detailed; just mention of the fear of it.

Running Delphi Electronics was a daymare in the early nights. It didn’t take long for word to get around that there’s a legitimate clairvoyant living around the Stacks and not another one of those boring psychics that flipped some cards and told people to think inwards. Things got so busy that you, Almaaz, and Lovelace (still only going by Rhiana at the time) went down to the old space docks to steal a bench. With things getting so busy, a bench was the only thing between you, your employees, your customers, and a fire code violation. One of the downsides of a combination psychic-electronics repair shop.

Now that you’ve long wizened up and keep your readings on an appointment-only basis, the bench doesn’t get the same traffic it used to. Sometimes the girls and Eli meet out there for their lunch. Or maybe you condemn Tyckho to the bench to keep him from ragequitting when he’s got to clean a spectacularly disgusting PC casing. Even you like to stretch out your long legs and have a quick smoke of herbs and dry mind honey when you feel like you’ve got enough privacy.

Tonight, you’ve got some gutter rat from Grub Town stuffing their face with a couple grilled cheeses. There’s no doubt Amoura is to blame for this. A Glossolalia lifer herself, she grew up in Grub Town until you took her in and gave her a job selling trinkets and oddities at your shop. Seeing scrawny wrigglers running around always gets her upset. Not being able to take it anymore, she put a bunch of sandwich shit in the break room fridge and bought a sandwich press. Kids quite literally started crawling up out of the sewers. It wouldn’t be so bad if they, at the very least, weren’t so sneaky about it.

Your loiterer stares up at you with this massive pair of gray eyes that say they aren’t afraid of you. Even as you take a seat on the far end of the bench, they continue to enjoy their sandwiches. You kind of recognize them through the grime and melted cheese. They know you aren’t a threat, but kids around here know they have to put on some kind of a tough front to keep the city’s adults from squishing them underfoot.

When they do start to ease up a bit, they open their little mouth.

“How do you know when, like. Your dream is a vision and not a dream?”

The streets have been talking about Delphi Vitale and speculating about how his amazing clairvoyant abilities work for sweeps. There’s also the crisp, laminated print affixed to the shop’s window detailing some of the services you provide. In-depth dream visions are one of them. You have to give the kid this stupidly animated shrug in response. It’s the only way to genuinely convey what you’re feeling with your face hidden beneath a heavy hood, some gaudy sunglasses, and a smog mask.

“You kinda just get a feelin’ for it, kid.”

What you’re not going to do right here and now is trauma dump on someone you don’t even know; especially when that someone is a kid trying to suck crumbs and the memory of cheese from beneath their fingernails. Still, you can’t help but wonder how well this kid sleeps during the day.

Growing up, you were a fitful sleeper. You were kept up all hours of the day by this terrifying daymare of a man on fire. You were half this kid’s age, maybe even younger, when the daymares began. Up until that point, you had most of your visions while you were awake with the occasional prediction shoved in some background scene of your rare “normal” dreams. You can admit to yourself that you still find the image of that man scary. Or maybe it was his presence that kept you unnerved.

In the early days of your burning man dreams, he’d be standing right at the side of your pool of sopor slime. You’d try to force yourself awake, but that just made things worse. It made his looming feel all the more heavy and even with your eyes just cracked open, you still saw him there and you always knew it was him by the sight and the smell of his burning flesh and his Empire-issue helmsman uniform.

As you got older, you learned ways to manipulate your dreams. It wasn’t much, but figured out how to fling yourself out of your body and watch your dreams like a fly on the wall. He still loomed over your body as you slept. Your dreams only changed to suit whatever in your life was different as you aged or moved hives. The closer you inched towards young adulthood, it was like the man knew you were not in your body anymore, so he started screaming for your attention.

By this time, you had surrendered yourself to the Empire to join the helmsman program. You felt there was no other way for you to survive with your chrome and, besides, you were doing pretty well for yourself despite it all. You didn’t have to deal with your sleeping daymares and waking ones that came with needing to live under the radar to survive. This new lifestyle also provided you with a small solution that kept you running for nights without needing sleep: charging stations. You’d just plug in for a while and last a couple nights on electrical currents running through your ports and brain without needing so much as a wink.

There were PSAs about running on charging stations for too long, of course, but you were fine. You figured out a system. You’d get at least one good day of sleep after several without and you were peachy. Really, you weren’t. Sometimes you’d get a bad discharge running through your ports that made you jerk and jolt about when the worst of them hit. Once you had a series of them that couldn’t have been more than half a minute, but there he was, just outside the edge of your vision. His screams became resigned sobs.

Maybe that’s why you were so off the night you were finally able to carry out your big assignment. The program wanted you hooked into some newfangled experimental ship built for navigating the more dangerous parts of deep space. A clairvoyant in the column meant they crew could more effectively navigate without getting torn up by microplanet sized space debris or sucked into a dying star.

You tell yourself things went south that night for a number of reasons. One of them being that your discharge was worse than usual. Shit, you were also pretty damn scared of being plugged into a ship for unknown stretches of time without someone around that’ll say it’s time to be dismissed for the night so you could rest your ports and get all your psionic energy back up. You didn’t want to wither away until your body let go of your extremities and eyes and senses to preserve and feed the part of you the Empire found useful.

Unfortunately, it was too late to worry about any of that. Too late to say you don’t want to be in this program. Too late to beg for a different assignment, something planetside where you could use your abilities to predict rebel activities. Too late to do anything about the sparks your ports sent up through the helms column that made an impressively long wick out of your ponytail. And it was way too damn late for you to finally be realizing why you spent your entire life haunted by daymares of a man on fire screaming for his life.

“Yeah… You get a feelin’ for it.”

#chi writes #i know this is a word salad; i'm rusty so don't bully me #this is how a hemorebel is born #what happens next may surprise you #ptolem drabbles #ptolem valens #delphi vitale #idk how to tag this so i'm playing it safe for my own finding

[never-enough-fanfiction]

Just a walk

Not really what you asked for, but that’s nothing new on this blog. Here you go @sloth-2000​! Enjoy!

“Joker. Joooker ”[Y/N] tugged urgently on the man's sleeve, trying to get attention as quickly as possible. "I need to tell you something in SECRET!" For a moment she stopped pulling on his T-shirt to vigilantly look around for the unwanted pair of ears, as if the echo of her voice did not carry miles down the deserted corridors.

Smoker finally put down his phone and focused on the woman, convinced that if he did not, he would have to reattach the sleeve of his shirt later. "What this time?"

The woman stopped and pointed sadly down. "I have my new shoes and they are killin’ me!" she wailed desperately, hurting his ears. "Can you carry me?"

"I can leave you there to die if you want."

"Pretty please?" [Y/N] tried to use puppy eyes but could barely focus on him. The man looked unconvinced. “I will tell you a REAL secret?”.

"I know all the secrets of the underworld."

"This one is MY secret." She snapped her finger guns at him, convinced that this offer would be irresistible. The blisters on her heel made themselves felt again, so she shifted her center of weigh a little, and to her surprise, the vertical was no longer a vertical.

Joker was the only reason she hadn't kissed the floor. He set it up straight and handed over his hat. "If you lose it, I'll take your phone as compensation."

"Bold of you to assume i haven’t lost my phone yet," she muttered leaning on his back and letting him take all her weight. The man tossed her lightly, adjusting the grip on her thighs, and it was enough to make her squeak amused.

Joker wondered if it was a matter of her macabrely low alcohol tolerance, or his was unusually high. Or was she doubling the rounds when he wasn't looking?

"Do you know why you're carrying me?"

"To know the secret?"

“The reason is also the secret!” She looked around, one last time checking if there was anyone in the vicinity to overhear their conversation, and rested her chin on the man's shoulder, lowering her voice to a whisper. "Because you like me!"

"Ya thinkin' way too high about yourself" Joker shook his head in disbelief, but [Y/N] was not convinced.

"Joker, Joker, Joker," she sighed pityingly, patting him on the shoulder. “It doesn’t mean it’s false just because you didn’t acknowledge it. For example! " She covered his mouth, making it impossible to interrupt. “Why are you here Joker? Why are you helping me out? There will be no paying back from my side. You are not stupid enough to think I will remember anything in the morning, are you Joker? " She smiled slightly, as if tasting the sound of his name.

The man shot her still unconvinced glance out of the corner of his eye and tossed her again, forcing her to focus on holding rather than talking.

"Your beliefs are bigger pile of crap than the church's ones."

"I won’t let you fool me." she stabbed him weakly on the cheek as her head began to weigh, until she rested it on the man's shoulder. A weak and faked melody floated down the hall as she began humming songs they had just heard in the bar. Her purr grew weaker and weaker, until it was completely silent.

Smoker raised an eyebrow in disbelief - it must be nice to be able to fall asleep so quickly. He adjusted his grip once more, feeling it begin to slide downward, and shook his head in disbelief.

“You have no idea what a pretty girl is about. There are no tender feelings for people like me. "

[Y/N] tensed suddenly, leaning backwards sharply enough to sway him. "Oh. My. Sol. You're such a dramatic egdelord. "

“Oi! If you are awake then stay still” he growled, somehow keeping balance.

"I'll ask you a question that I don't want you to answer." She hugged him again very willingly. "Do you really believe it, or does it just fit in with the image you've created around you?" The man opened his mouth, ready to reply, but immediately shushed him, waving an alcohol-drenched breath. "The answer is for you, not me." She rested her head on his back again, feeling her lids begin to weigh heavily. "Anyway, I like you so that's not true."

*

She was right. The next she did not remember a thing after walking out of the pub, what included forgetting every single word from their conversation, and Joker saw no need to bring all of this out.

#fire force #fire force x you #fire fore x reader #joker fire force #fire force joker #joker 52 #joker52 #joker/52 #joker enen no shouboutai #enen no shouboutai #enen no shoboutai joker

[thigh-o-saur]

"J-Jude Please.... I need it faster...PLEASE!” Carden’s moans echoed around their bedroom as Jude’s fingers slowly went in and out of cardans rosy hole. Jude smiled at her husbands soggy cock and reached out, slowly stroking the top just barely enough to be called a tease. “If your going to fuck me do it faster!” Cardans voice shouted . “how can such a naughty boy like you beg for me for your own pleasure?” Jude slurred her words in such a manner that Cardan’s ass seemed to relax. Unfortunately for him Jude was just started. She was a hard one to please, and when you were tied up unable to pleasure her, much less yourself, any pleasure you would have liked to received at the start of the heated game would be gone. “Bunny~ if you keep screaming like that the whole castle may awake... that would be troublesome wouldn't it?” she said as her free hand caressed his reddening arse. then...SMACK! Cardan screamed in shock mixed with something close enough to lust and raised his arse even higher for his master. Jude roughly took out her fingers, not caring if her nails scratched the insides of his slutty hole. She knelt there with a belt that contained beautiful rubies implanted on top of it. “I need to punish you. If you cant even control you humiliating cock from dripping with pre cum then how can you expect to penetrate me?” Cardan shuddered and let out another girly scream as the belt came into contact with his royal arse. It wasn't long before his arse looked like something close enough to a rebellious animal being punished by their master. "Cardan... I'm feeling rather nice today so I'm giving you one more chance before I turn you into my real pet... So, try begging for me again." Jude whispered into his ear. "B-but... Jude.... I just- AHH~ It hurts!! W-what was that..." Jude sneered at her littles pet cock wetting his bed that would cost more than all her belongings put together. "What a snarly bitch. You didn't like what I stuck in your tight fucking arse? Do you want me to... Pull it out? One word Cardan. One word and I'll relieve you of the pain your in and we can go back to normal. No more playing around just business. What do you say?" Cardan turned his head to try and catch a glimpse of what Jude had used against him this time. But then SLAP! Jude hit Cardan against his cheek so hard you could see her hand print. " When did I say you could look? I asked you a question and you will answer before anything else. How hard is that to understand you whore? I should have put you in your place long ago. If I had known you had been such a cock-sucking masochistic prince I would have taken that to my advantage. Fucking your royal pussy In front of your loyal subjects. I'm sure they would go help you if they weren't too busy jerking off to your girly moans." Cardan shuddered at her words with images slowly forming in his broken mind. Before Cardan could reply to her idea his cock twitched and his ass dropped onto her lap in surprise. "Ooo what do we have here~ . Everyone's beloved little princes hole got even tighter now... What a slut." Jude spat the last words out of her mouth like they were poison to her, but for the little pet, it was something that would give him shivers up his spine.

He was close. Jude didn't need to even use her hands, she knew every part of cardans body. “So .Is the little bitch going to beg or are we going to finish some paperwork instead? Choose wisely cock-sucker.” Jude smirked as she watched Cardans body pause at her question and it looked like he was actually considering the question, but Jude knew his answer anyway. Anyone could tell by the way his cock was dripping. "P-please fuck me... M-mommy..." Jude smiled. And so she thrusted a dildo back in. It was truly a beautiful sight. The dildo was quite the sight of. A nice mint green made with bulging veins . Not to mention it was one of the biggest toys they owned. A 12 inch dick for her little bitch. What a good fit. She relaxed as she let Cardan do all the work, jumping up and down on the dildo himself. Cardans countless moans escaped their chambers to the whole castle to hear. It even reached the servants ears. "What's that noise?" Asked the new maid that arrived yesterday "a newbie huh? Don't worry about it. Its just the king and queen playing with each other. It happens a lot wherever and whenever so get use to it." Said maid no.1 "B-but the king sounds like he's in pain... Shouldn't we help him or something? The queen is known to be merciless... Maybe I should bring a first aid kit for him?" Said the newbie maid "HAHAAHAHAH ! Oh god. You really are stupid you know. Tell me are you in a relationship?" Asked maid no.2 "W-well yeah... " Stuttered the newbie "then who does the main work?" Asked maid no.2 "W-hat do you mean?" Maid no.2 sighed "I mean who is the dominant one in your relationship when you are in bed?" The maid blushed but managed to utter that it was her husband. "Well for the king and queen it is the opposite. The queen is the dominant one. Quite fitting considering how much Cardan can suck up to someone as long as they can make him submit. You should have seen him at the last ball with the queen. He was sitting on her lap and rubbing down so hard! Not to mention she was wearing shorts with a strap on on.He was so horny everyone could see his cock through his cloths but he didn't even care! but the queen wouldn't allow him to sit on it so all he could do was pleasure himself by rubbing his ass on it. It was hilarious to watch honestly. And it also revealed who fancies who~ you see the ball was themed on showing as much skin without revealing all of it. You could easily see who was getting hard or wet while watching the king. Actually most of the nobles were horny." The newbie looked shocked and didn't hesitate any longer to run away in a flush.

Back in the bedroom

Cardan was ties up with pretty green ropes and a neon pink but plug in his ass, his eyes were blindfolded and his dick was tightly tied up separately so Jude can pull it like a collar. "Hmmmm we're missing something... What is it?" Murmured Jude "Oh! I know..." There was some rustling but it wasn't soon after that Cardan found himself wearing a girls lingerie. It was a cute black laced panties and the bra was the same but the reason why this one stood out was because the back of the panties where the ass will be shown and the bra where the nipples would be there would be a hole so you could see everything if your partner was walking, kneeling or anything really. The pink but plug also had a cute little pigs tail on it. Not to mention Cardan also had a little black chocker which came as a deal with the lingerie which had a bell on so the owner would now wherever they were. Honestly, Jude spoiled him too much. She untied his blindfold and the rope which left a cute bruise around his body. "Cardan,baby, do you like your surprise? I especially bought it for you~ . Oh wait, I forgot the gag was still on. Oh well it's easier access. Now.. shall we go for a walk and get some exercise?" Cardan's eyes widened in horror as he new the nobles would be around and there were many maids which were working but of course Jude didn't mind because they were all under her thumb. Not to mention she lets them play with him however they desire. "MMNngnnmMN MMOOGNNnmN!!" ( No, I'm begging you mummy please not!!) . SLAP! Jude hit him right across his ass as he tried to scream in pain "it's not your choice so hush and wiggle your tail for me" Cardans eyes watered but shook his ass to make the pig tail wiggle. Jude laughed aloud to the scene. It was truly a sight. Jude grabbed hold of the rope tied tightly to his dick and pulled at it with force. He screamed in pain but crawled to her to try ease the force. This was soon happening as they were walking through the palace corridors. Cardan knew whoever they spot first would get to fuck Cardan senseless and leave his used body for the others but his body was a bit too sensitive after all the hitting and whipping.

He crawled on his hands and knees trying to match the pace Jude was walking at but that was hard considering his body was trembling with pain but its not like he would ask her to stop abusing him like that anyway. He enjoyed it too much.

They had almost walked across the whole palace and that meant that they could go back to their room and have some real fun in bed but of course nothing went to plan.

Maid.1 "O-oh... Miss... Sir? " Jude laughed and said there was no need to call him sir because he was just a horny pig that doesn't deserve respect. "Am I the first person today miss?" Asked the maid slowly rubbing her thighs together Jude hummed in answer and the maid knew what that meant.

"ass up, pig"

Cardan gulped but done as he was told. He wasn't in the position to argue. The maid lifted her skirt to reveal a good sized dildo that was textured in bumps and warts and veins and spikes. Cardan visibly shuddered but that didn't stop his dick from hardening.

She pulled out the pig tail excruciatingly slow and slowly pushed it in and out again until cardans body seemed to relax a bit thanks to the slow pace that almost lulled him to sleep.

And then... SQUELCH!! She stuffed the dick right in surprising cardan as he tried to scream in some sort of pain.

#jude x cardan #spicy #excessive swearing #male sub

[crispyblonde]

You know you're cheating on Sam when you're hooking up with people, right? He deserves to know you're alive.

anon questions always welcome?? or the make jess cry challenge?? hard to tell

there it was. the all-too familiar sense of dread, accompanied by the wave of nausea, it all set in whenever she thought about sam. multiple times per day, usually, but she thought most of him at night. something about a musty, creaky motel bed screamed loneliness often before the nightmares set in that left her to all but give up on sleep for a few days until the exhaustion set in enough to reset her subconscious. as she became more confident in her passing days of learning how to protect herself from everything that went bump in the night, the subject of said nightmares had shifted.

❝ i never meant for it to become a secret. ❞

some may always be filled with fire and demon eyes, the taunting words coming out of tyson brady's lips with the knife still sticking out of his chest, or her at the mercy of monsters and hunters alike that had captured her to help with some vendetta against sam... but others? others were about sam. a look of disbelief when he saw her or heard her voice was quickly replaced by anger. a demand of what made her think she had the right to use her face against him? placatingly, she continued to assure him that she was nothing but herself while complying with whatever tests he needed to do to believe her. she could tell it bothered him, each time that she passed one. holy water? no sizzling. a mouthful of salt? nothing more than the soured twist of her face at the taste lingering on her tongue. the cut of a silver blade did nothing but draw normal, stark red blood. it was as if he was growing more hopeful that it was really her while also feeling more regretful that if it was, he was putting her through all of this added pain that she assumed she didn't understand.

then they had their moment, a bone-crushing hug that quickly became the only reason since she had found herself alive that she didn't mind truly not being able to breathe. sounded like a fairytale right? but it never ended there. almost instantly a faceless entity appeared, almost as though her own mind couldn't decide who had brought her back. frozen in a crushing way, so indistinguishable from how she had felt pinned to the ceiling in their apartment. again all she could do was watch sam's face twist in horror as he realized his desperate attempts to save her were all in vain. what she felt she could only describe as a punch followed by a deep pain that would be enough to make her vomit if she could move. a seeping warm sensation spread across her abdomen. the image stuck on her eyelids was that of his anguish before she shot awake in a cold sweat in the darkened motel room, lit up only by the bright neon sign leaking through the blinds.

of course, they weren't all like that. sometimes he was with someone new... and what was worse? he loved them more or was ready to drop everything for her? to lose someone like him, well, that wasn't something that she wish upon anybody. then there was simply the fact that so much time had passed since they had last saw each other. while she knew some of it from sam's first time in heaven after getting killed by some man named jake -- she couldn't imagine what had happened to him since then. not when she had been on the road learning how to hunt herself now. all of that darkness he had dreamed of escaping his whole life, compounded by losing the normal life he had started to build for himself with her. what if she couldn't be the light for him anymore? the beacon of hope. would he still want to get out with her? or would he push her toward a safer life without her in it because he knew he couldn't get out? did they simply not fit together anymore? because she knew she wasn't that girl from stanford anymore, no matter how hard she tried... how hard she wanted to be. carefree and optimism were no longer in her vocabulary.

tears stung in her eyes as she went to open her mouth again. her words were meek, very uncharacteristic of her. ❝ i don't even know how to find him... his stanford phone number is disconnected and this isn't news you share over an email... does he even check that? i don't know anything about where he would be. he's never really had a home -- i don't even know if he has a home base. -- maybe it's just better if he doesn't know. i can't be used against him again... he won't have to make a decision if he's found someone else... ❞ she wouldn't have to come to the realization that she wasn't someone he could love anymore. ❝ sometimes i get lonely. and sex with some dumb guy at a bar is just sex. ❞

#anon #long post #torture tw #blood tw #violence tw #injury tw #╰––– » 「 ✞ 」 𝗮𝗻𝘀𝘄𝗲𝗿𝗲𝗱. ┊ thank you for coming to my ted talk

[ablogmadebyjose]

TERM PROJECT NO.5 | WAS I EVER F*CKING GOOD ENOUGH?

Topics of interest

Extreme Close Ups | Relationships, sensual, seductive

Big Book Look | Abstract, asymmetrical, minimal

Monumental Images | Mortality, still, cold

CHOSEN TOPIC -> BIG BOOK LOOK/MONUMENTAL IMAGES??

I'm still conflicted on which theme this actually fits. It fits the requirements of the big book look with its use of scale and typography, but its message is so clear and up front that it could also be categorized as a monumental image. Regardless, I wanted to work with type for this week's illo and make it a huge aspect of my design. That's why I leaned towards those two themes and maybe even combined the two in concept.

Creative Concept

In all honesty, my original idea was completely different from the final result I'm posting now. It would've been an illustration in a style that I have never attempted yet and would be very complicated in execution, and due to the amount of work that was assigned last week, I never got around to really executing my idea. However, that idea will return for the next illustration prompt after the reading break. Anyway, when it came to this concept, I was inspired by one of my failed manifestos from ARTG210: Professional Practice 2, which didn't win the vote for it to be posted online on Instagram. Since this week's theme was scale, I knew I wanted the Macintosh photo to be tiny in comparison to the header text, which would be significantly larger than all the other imagery and text within the composition. I wanted to recreate the feeling when I'm awake past 11 p.m. working on whatever assignment is due the next day; it's tiring yet sort of relaxing.

Description

Despite being bummed out that I didn't get to execute my actual idea for this week's design and having to save it for the next theme, I made sure not to treat this week's design as a throwaway. I decided to go back to Photoshop and create another design, which I'll admit is in my comfort zone, but I always ensure that every weekly exploration looks distinctly unique from one another. This time, I wanted type to have a larger focus and make my narrative as blunt and straight-forward as possible. I tend to use vague and broad phrases for narratives that are way deeper than the actual phrases presented in the final work. Since this one was inspired by both the big book look and monumental images, it was pretty obvious that I had to make this week's narrative as clear as possible.

I feel like every designer or creative will at least suffer from imposter syndrome, and at times it impacts the work we create. It's something that I have to deal with and push through sometimes. I think one of my biggest weaknesses as a designer is that I compare myself way too much with my classmates. They're all so creatively unique in their own little ways, and the work they produce genuinely impresses me. I'm very honoured to be working and being friends with the people in my class, but at the same time, I have never felt this much imposter syndrome in my entire life before. I know I create good work, sometimes even exceptional work. Yet, when people compliment or even applaud my work, I just can't seem to fully determine if it's genuine or not. So, yes. Every night, I do ask if I was ever f*cking good enough! Despite this roadblock I find myself attempting to move past, I still love the work I put in. For the most part, I put in my all for each and every assignment, and sure, some might be better than others, but I'll always appreciate the amount of hard work during the design process that is put in. I think I've come full circle from that failed manifesto from ARTG210; this is my personal manifesto.

Enough of the rationale behind the narrative; when it came to the actual visual aspect of this week's exploration, I mostly used the same principles for the "WHO AM I?" design two weeks ago. However, this time I used different textures and blur effects to experiment more with the tools that Adobe Photoshop offers. I didn't want to overuse the texture; having subtlety there, I think, was a way better decision than it being super apparent and strong, as I wanted to recreate that feeling I have when I'm working on assignments late into the night. I also added some extra outer glow and drop shadows to add more depth, as it was looking very flat without those two effects behind the Macintosh. I adore how the textures turned out in this, especially the field blur effect on the type.

Even though this week's exploration wasn't my intended vision, I loved how it turned out and is so far my second favourite (BASTARD is still my number one!) exploration I've done so far.

KEYWORDS

Desolate

Pessimistic

Melancholy

ROUGH -> PROCREATE

FINAL -> PHOTOSHOP

#graphic design #photoshop #adobe

[fmdjake]

It’s the morning after The Grammy’s and he’s exhausted, but when his phone rings, Jake knows he needs to answer it. He’s spent the last few days pestering his team into finding more TV and film work for him, so the least he can do is give them his attention when they call him—even if he’s only gotten three hours of sleep and his head is already pounding from a hangover that’s barely settling in. Groaning, he rolls over, swipes the lock-screen, then places the device on speaker. When he says “hello?”, he realizes how dehydrated he is, and in an effort to remedy the situation, he reaches for the bottle of water on his bedside table; carefully taking a swig as his manager talks. He’s not really listening to them, per se. In truth, he’s only keeping his ears perked for certain keywords, and when a few of them begin to enter the conversation, Jake becomes all the more attentive—hanging on each syllable they speak since they’re being spoken with a deliciously positive inflection.

“Really?” He responds, brows furrowing with curiosity. The more he learns, the more intrigued he becomes. A movie. One of the scripts they think fits the bill is for a movie, not a drama. His tongue escapes his mouth to dampen his lips, his head nodding in agreement with everything being conveyed to him. According to his senior, it’s a role that they genuinely think he would find fun and cheeky; one that’s very much in line with his image, his visual appeal, and his stance as a rising leading man in the industry. They mention a few other options, as well, but he’s too focused on the larger project. That’s what’s truly has him feeling hyped up. There’s a dramatic shift in his energy; the exhilaration enough to get him to sit up from his lying position.

“Can you email me the script of the film, and wait—you’re saying it’s based on a webtoon? What did you say it’s called again?” He asks, and when the name’s repeated to him, he finds it a little confusing. Moral Sense... Interesting. It’s then when his manager advises him to look into it to see if he likes the feel of it, yet refuses to tell him anything specific about the plot; wanting it to be a surprise, of sorts. “Alright, well, I’ll take your word for it. If I like it, though, I want the script. I wanna have another job booked asap, but only if it’s good. I wanna continue riding the high of ‘Attorney Woo’ while they prep for season two.” It’s not been officially announced yet, but he did sign on for a follow-up if it were to be put into production. He’s just waiting on the official green light from the company and creators.

After a few short minutes, the call ends, and even though he intended on getting some more shut-eye before needing to officially be awake, he’s too pumped up to fall back asleep. Instead, he searches for his laptop and searches for the webtoon in question. Hopefully it’s as cool as they’re making it seem. He’d love adding to his résumé, and what better role to add than one in a full-length feature film?

#〈 &. SOLO. #〈 &. 545.

[hermitsearcher]

I Walked With You Once Upon a Dream

[ word count: 1326 ]

Oz wanders through the moonlit halls in the dead of night, the lack of sleep clinging to the ends of his skin. For as imposing a figure as he is, Oz’s steps are silent as they make their way down to the first floor of the manor.

As he walks by the sitting room, the faintest noise alerts him to a presence inside. Oz manifests his staff. Even though he can’t use any strong magic at this time of night, it’s sufficient enough to work as a blunt force attack.

He treads carefully through the doorway, being mindful of the chance it was one of the Northern wizards. Who he didn't expect to see was Figaro, leaning up against the glass panes as he rested on the window sill.

The silver light of the moon bathes Figaro in a soft glow. His already pale skin is nearly translucent under the light, the veins underneath appearing faintly if one were to squint. Oz realizes the noises he was hearing was the sound of Figaro’s rough breathing, uneven as he panted as if he was in pain. If not for his labored breaths, Oz would have mistaken Figaro for the thousands of other living corpses he’s seen in his lifetime. Gone was the image of the once strong and noble wizard of the North, a shadow of the man he used to be now in his place.

It wasn’t in his plans to approach the other, intending to act as if he hadn’t seen a thing and carry on his own night walk. Yet Oz’s own feet betray him as he mindlessly wanders over to the man.

When he was a foot's step away from the man, Oz could tell that the other was resting. Though it looked to be a fitful sleep at that. Only half of the southern wizard’s face was lit by the light of the moon, but his expression seemed to be troubled, as if he was being haunted by his own dreams.

Oz puts away his staff and reaches out to him. His right hand cups Figaro’s porcelain cold cheek. It was concerning how chilled his skin felt. The central wizard gently strokes the other’s face with his thumb as an act to soothe him.

Only like this, with the moon as his sole witness could Oz allow himself to be so gentle with the man that looked like he would crack and break at a moment’s notice.

Figaro’s eyes flutter awake by his touch. The brilliant green of his eyes are a bit faded, melting into the storm as they stare back at Oz unfocused.

“Oz?” Figaro’s usual steady voice is trembling with sleep.

“You should head back to your room. It’s too late to spend it drinking out here.” Oz tries to remove his hand, but Figaro cups it in place with his own. He leans into the rough palm as if seeking its warmth, a crooked smile tugging at the edges of his mouth.

“Are you leaving me again?”

Oz freezes at his words catching him off guard. His face pulls into a frown. The strongest wizard wants to go and leave this helpless man to his own ramblings. Yet it seemed like if he were to go now and ignore all this, he would miss what may be Figaro expressing what his true feelings are.

He bends down to look Figaro straight in the face. The other doesn’t seem to be completely awake. The jaded green of his eyes are shaking ever so slightly and his lashes flutter close in an uneven timing, only to rise again trying to stay open.

Oz speaks to him in a low voice, “I have never left you. Since the beginning, I have always been in the same place, never once coming or going.” He bites his tongue, refraining from adding an unlike you to his words.

The pensive look Figaro wore curls into something more cynical. His hand holding Oz’s own in place moves to wrap around his wrist, bringing it down to his lap and tugging him closer.

“You’re a liar, you know that? The sight of your fading back would have been a familiar sight for me, if we even looked in the same direction in the first place.”

Oz doesn’t remove where his hand now lays. Instead he shifts closer to the man to the point of almost hovering over him. His freed left hand braces the wall as his long hair drapes over his shoulder, effectively trapping Figaro in the space between his arms and the wall. The distance between them is close enough that Oz’s crimson eyes could see how Figaro’s eyes are still not fully focused, doused in the lunacy of the moon and the remnants of his dreams.

“Then face me, as you are and as I am in this very moment. You can see for yourself that our paths have always crossed.”

Figaro huffs. Slowly it breaks into a small, heavy laughter. It doesn’t grow in volume but each breath sounds more wet and pitiful than the last. His expression aches of a pain deeper than the skin, for the old wizard never wore his heart on his sleeve yet all the years of mishaps and melancholy have built up and begun to leak out.

“Be that as it may, they’re twisted, long winded and narrow roads. They’ll intersect and meet at certain times, but never have they gone in the same direction. We have both walked our lives alone, and we will continue to because that is all we have done. You know as well as I do that it would be pointless trying to hold onto each other when clinging to make others stay has never been our forte.”

“As much as we both want to” remains unsaid by the both of them. There are things they want to say to each other, but know the boundaries of speaking it into existence that cannot be crossed. And things they try to tell the other that hold a meaning even they themselves aren’t aware of. This talk is at the crossroads of both ends, but cannot ever cross the limits they set themselves. And yet,

“Is it so wrong to want to hold onto each other now?” Oz whispers in the unrecognizable distance standing between them.

Resignation falls flat onto Figaro’s face. He looks downcast, averting his eyes to the side avoiding Oz’s deep gaze.

“Would either of us even know how to?”

The two of them are silent. Oz wants to deny the bitter truth that rings in the elder wizard’s words. Yet there is nothing more Oz could do to reach out to Figaro when he himself lacks a means to.

Was this how it will always be from now on? Or has their relationship been like this since the beginning? Only now does Oz recognize this uncrossed space created between him and Figaro. It brings about a dull ache that he cannot put a name to.

“...You are not mine, and I am not yours. And yet I wish we were each other’s if only to keep you in my arms for a moment longer.”

Figaro’s smile loosens at the other’s words. His head is still turned facing out to the window. The light of the moon shining on his entire face highlights how tired he truly looks. How both of them feel.

“Dreams can only remain as “if’s” because they’re the possibilities that don’t happen. But that’s why they’re so nice, aren’t they?”

He doesn’t speak any more after that. Figaro’s breathing becomes quiet, even and steady as he drifts back to the sea of dreams.

Oz rests his head on the other man’s shoulder, exhaustion settling into his bones yet sleep still escapes him. He remains as the only lucid one between them, left in the reality that has no space for the two of them as one.

#rain writing #mhyk ficlets #ozfi #crossposted from ao3

[twilight-orchid]

How The Demon Brothers React After Fighting With Their SO

tw: some angst with resolution at the end, mentions of past arguments, insecurity.

Lucifer:

This man is petty as hell.

He doesn’t do the silent treatment, but he acts like you aren’t dating.

If you need to work on something together, you’re a co-worker.

At RAD you’re a classmate.

Around the house you’re just a housemate.

His poker face is immaculate and it will not crack when you’re around.

If someone didn’t know what was happening, they’d probably think you two barely knew each other.

However, you won’t notice, but as soon as you look the other way his eyes are on you.

He’s used to arguing with his brothers and is no stranger to explosive fights that end with he and the other person not being on speaking terms.

But you’re different.

He tries to go on with business as usual, but he can’t think about anything other than how much he misses you.

Yet, he lets it continue because he just can’t put his pride aside and apologize.

If you decide to sleep in your old room it’ll both hurt his feelings and royally piss him off.

He thinks you’re being childish and will be pretty rude about it, but that’s because internally his blood just ran cold.

It adds a degree of seriousness to the argument that he’s uncomfortable with.

Yes he’s mad, but he can’t lose you.

If you still sleep in his bed, he makes sure to scoot over to the very edge so he doesn’t cuddle you in his sleep.

In fact, the first night after the argument he’d probably put a pillow between you just to really punctuate the fact that he’s still upset.

I’d say it could go 4 days to a week tops without you making up.

After a point though, he just can’t function until the issue is resolved. He can’t sleep, he’s falling behind on his work, and he’s just generally not doing well.

You get called to his office one night and find him at his desk surrounded by piles of paper, disheveled and exhausted.

“MC, come sit down. I’d like to talk this through. Please.”

Mammon:

He’s so dramatic.

You dare defy him? The Great Mammon can’t believe this tiny fragile human would have the audacity.

The theatrics are just a front though.

His ‘The Great Mammon’ act is a mask for his insecurity, one he hasn’t had to use with you in awhile.

Even as the words leave his mouth he regrets them.

He’s going to be very uncomfortable with everything until the argument is resolved, but most of all himself.

He’s learned not to take his brothers too seriously when they toss insults his way, but words have a way of morphing to belief over time.

Internally he is going to be super hard on himself. 

Regardless of if the fight was his fault or not, he’s going to kick himself constantly for making yet another mistake.

He’s over the argument pretty fast. The anger quickly melts into anxiety.

Are you going to leave him? Do you hate him? Did he hurt your feelings? 

That being said, he doesn’t know if you’re still mad and he doesn’t know how to ask. 

As a defense mechanism, he defaults to how he treated you when you first arrived in the devildom.

Calls you human, disregards you, stuff like that.

If you decide to sleep in another room, before midnight expect him to be knocking on the door.

“Oi, MC. You awake? I just - I can’t - *sigh* Can we talk about this?”

If you sleep in his bed, he makes a point of sleeping with his back to you.

Less because he’s actually mad and more because he doesn’t want his image of you as he drifts to sleep to be a look of anger.

Though as soon as he passes out he’ll roll over and tuck you into his arms on instinct.

I’d say any after effects of an argument with Mammon would be resolved in a day, maybe two tops.

Leviathan:

Arguing activates his trolling the forums mode.

Goes back to calling you a normie and contradicts everything you say.

He’s less mad about the argument and more using the bitterness to cope with how upset he is.

He feels like a break up is less of an if and more of a when.

Why would someone as amazing as you settle for weird otaku like him?

Honestly doesn’t understand why you’re with him in the first place, so when there’s a serious argument he assumes its over.

Tbh don’t know how you and Levi would sleep together being that I doubt two could fit in a tub, but any deviation to your routine sends him into a panic.

It’s his reality check that the situation is serious and he needs to fix it NOW.

He’d have trouble apologizing in person. He can’t think of what to say, he stumbles over his words, and he feels like he’s on the verge of a panic attack.

Instead, expect a long ass text message.

He says how sorry he is, how much he misses and loves you, and legit begs you to forgive him.

If you sleep with him like normal, he’ll probably try to make up after laying there for awhile. His mind is going a million miles an hour and there’s no way he can sleep.

Still really has trouble verbalizing how he feels, so give the poor boy a break and take over the conversation.

He hasn’t had a serious relationship before and he doesn’t know what he should do to make it better.

So the after effects will last however long it takes him to read several mangas, watch some anime, and play a few games to see how the characters get over arguments in the story.

Satan:

Satan makes sure not to fight with you over minor issues.

He’s worked tirelessly to tame his wrath and he refuses to feed into it over a minor issue.

Thus, if you fight with Satan it’s a major argument and it’s explosive.

The aftermath isn’t much better.

He doesn’t want to risk blowing up again, so he’s frighteningly calm.

He’s an absolute master of the silent treatment.

He won’t say a word to you until he’s certain he’s calmed down enough.

For the first few days he’ll straight up leave a room if you enter.

For a good while the only way you can expect to communicate with him is through his body language and the expression in his eyes.

Satan’s biggest fear is losing control and lashing out at you. 

He couldn’t live with himself if he hurt you and he can’t stand the thought of you being afraid of him. 

He’s a whirlwind of emotions, so he isolates himself until he can figure out how to deal with it.

Not just from you, but from everyone else too. 

Satan will not share a bed with you for at least the first night.

If he got worked up enough to actually fight, it’s gonna take him time to simmer down.

And he’d rather not risk doing or saying something he regrets in the meantime.

Once he’s ready, he’ll approach you when he���s completely calmed down and has thoroughly analyzed the situation.

He’s considered both of your sides, tried to pinpoint what caused the disagreement to turn into a fight, and made a plan of action to prevent it from happening again.

“MC? I’ve been thinking quite a bit about what happened. Would you please talk it through with me?”

He won’t apologize for the argument if he feels like he was right, but he will apologize for letting the disagreement escalate into a fight.

Satan could go weeks without making up if necessary, but he tries to resolve it within a couple of days.

Asmodeus:

Wants to give you the silent treatment, but is physically incapable.

He can’t stand to have you ignore him.

He’s the type to go back to normal then suddenly remembers you guys had a fight.

“Wait, no! I’m not talking to you! I’m mad at you!”

His biggest downfall is that he’s so stubborn.

If he thinks he was right, he will die on that hill.

There are arguments with his brothers that happened a thousand years ago and he could still tell you exactly why he was right.

But with you, he realizes that doesn’t matter too him nearly as much as it usually does.

If it means going back to normal, he’ll forget who’s right or wrong.

If you sleep in another room, he’s beyond offended.

“What?! Well fine! I don’t want you in my bed anyway!”

Laying in bed alone is a different story though.

He can’t sleep. All he can think about is you. Your face when you sleep next to him, your smell, the feeling of his arms around you.

He 100% cries.

Finally goes and knocks on your door with wet, glossy eyes.

“MC? Can we talk about this? I can’t get my beauty sleep and my tears are wiping off all of my skin care lotion!”

Will throw himself into your arms before you can answer.

If you sleep next to him still, he rolls over and watches you sleep.

It puts him at peace and he decides seeing your sweet, resting face every morning is worth more to him than the argument.

He’ll initiate the conversation the next morning.

I think Asmo could make it a few days if it was a really serious argument, but he will not function well until you make up.

Beelzebub:

Wants to make up immediately.

He doesn’t like to argue, even less so with you.

Whether he was right or wrong, he blames himself. He’ll take all the blame in the world if it makes you happy.

He’ll go make you your favorite food and bring it to you.

If he thinks you don’t want to talk to him, he’ll leave it outside your door and text you to let you know it’s there.

He’s honestly devastated if you decide to sleep in another room.

You guys migrate to your old room when you want privacy from Belphie, but you almost never sleep separately.

Seeing you grab your pillows and march out of the room nearly stops his heart.

He goes completely numb and silent as he just stares at the space you had just occupied.

Like Levi, he thinks this means the relationship is over and he genuinely does not know what to do with himself.

He can’t even bring himself to eat, he just wants to lie there, lost and trying to grapple with his emotions. 

He’s another one who will absolutely cry, but unlike Asmo he will make sure no one knows it.

If you still sleep in his bed, he’s very nervous about it.

He doesn’t know if it’s okay to touch you, what he can or can’t say, stuff like that.

He just lays there stiff as a board not even able to close his eyes.

Honestly the fight would probably have to be resolved before bed. His anxiety just can’t take it.

I don’t think he’d initiate the apology. Not because he doesn’t want to make up but because his confidence is rock bottom in these situations.

He catastophizes and honestly thinks you hate him.

If you don’t initiate the apology soon, Belphie will. He can feel what his twin won’t say, and he knows Beel won’t approach you about it for fear of making it worse.

Belphie will lock you two in a room if that’s what it takes for you to make up.

Belphegor:

The embodiment of if looks could kill.

He won’t talk to you, won’t look at you, basically pretends you aren’t there.

If he must interact with you he’ll roll his eyes and sigh the whole time.

Tries to sleep through any interaction so he doesn’t have to deal with it.

He feels almost betrayed by the fight.

He thought the relationship was stronger than to have such a huge divide, so he’s really insecure about it.

After the first day, the anger has melted away to guilt.

He ‘s not guilty that you fought, but he is guilty about how he treated you after.

Guilt and self-blame have become unwelcome friends at this point. Guilt over Lilith, over his plans to destroy the human world, everything.

But more than anything else, the guilt for the fact that he attacked you weighs on him every day.

He moved past it quickly after, essentially pretending he hadn’t killed you, but that’s because he just couldn’t confront what he’d done. 

He feels like the luckiest demon alive that you forgave him, let alone  opened you heart enough to love him, and now it’s all in tatters.

Another thing to regret.

If you decide to sleep separately, it’ll hit him like a bag of bricks.

“You - what? Where are you going?” 

It’ll take him a second to process what you were doing, but then he’ll roll over and let you leave.

“Fine. Don’t let the door hit you.”

No one will see him for awhile. 

Belphie sleeps all the time anyway, but he just can’t make himself get out of bed.

If you don’t approach him to apologize, Beel will tell you that he’s been nauseous and randomly emotional which must mean his twin is coping very badly. 

Will beg you to go make Belphie happy again. 

If you sleep in his bed still, the argument will be resolved by morning.

He can’t keep himself from embracing you in his sleep, and it’s hard to say you’re mad at someone when you wake up in their loving arms.

It’s hard to pinpoint how long it could last with Belphie. If you don’t apologize first, he won’t let himself be conscious long enough to approach you.

This is both my first hc post as well as my first obey me post so I’m sorry if le boys are ooc. I just got this idea and couldn’t stop thinking about it so here we are.  Especially Belphie, he was hard to me for some reason. Let me know if you guys agree or disagree and if you want to send a request or ask, my box is open! 

#obey me #obeyme #obey me shall we date #obey me lucifer #obey me lucifer x mc #obey me mammon #obey me mammon x mc #obey me leviathan #obey me Levi #obey me levi x mc #obey me leviathan x mc #obey me satan #obey me satan x mc #obey me asmodeus #obey me asmo #obey me asmo x mc #obey me asmodeus x mc #obey me beelezebub #obey me beel #obey me beelzebub x mc #obey me beel x mc #obey me belphegor #obey me belphie #obey me belphagor x mc #obey me belphie x mc #obey me lucifer x reader #obey me mammon x reader #obey me leviathan x reader #obey me satan x reader #obey me asmo x reader

[jungkxook]

—pour up. (m)

⟶ pairing: jungkook x reader x taehyung

⟶ genre: fuckboy!jungkook / fuckboy!taehyung + smut  

⟶ words: 14,048 (idk how it’s literally just smut)

⟶ rating: 18+

⟶ summary: sleeping with both notorious frat boys kim taehyung and jeon jungkook doesn’t sound so bad ━ especially when you’re drunk and faded.

⟶ warnings: mentions of drug/alcohol use, essentially pwp lol, threesome, double penetration, voyeurism, messy rough sex, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, dry humping, manhandling, doggy style, riding (sort of?), fingering, oral sex (f and m receiving), face riding, face fucking, deepthroating, breast play, slight begging (mostly oc making jungkook beg hehe), brief name calling, dirty talking, unprotected sex, creampie

⟶ note: this is a repost of a fic from my old blog! also shout out to miss jlin @bratkook​ for being the sweetest and for liking this trashy fic of mine, and a happy early birthday present to @onherwings​ miss juno, the resident taekook lover!! 💛

also the accompanying song to this fic is pour up by dean!

There were times when you were sober where you were persistent about never being in a five foot radius of a frat boy, much less strip yourself of your dignity long enough to sleep with one.

Your appalling disgust and immense irritation of the male species that were frat boys kept you well in tune to your rule ━ until you’re far past the point of drunk and faded. Only then, when your bloodstream is laced with alcohol and your mind is nothing but a hazy cloud of smoke, you shrink into a shameless hypocrite and favour the appeal of a simple hook up. But you have needs too; it isn’t entirely your fault. Kim Taehyung offers you exactly that, with the promise to then act as if nothing happens the very next day so that the two of you can revert to despising one another out in public.

You act as if no one knows about your flings with ultimate frat boy Taehyung almost every weekend, as if they’re just as oblivious as you, but damn near the whole school knows and most certainly the rest of the boys in Beta Tau Sigma, or as Taehyung puts it, his brothers. It’s a useless cycle of bicker, avoid, drink, sex, and repeat, ever since you joined the school as a freshman and the sophomore boy took an interest in you. He’s charming in all the right ways and good looking but his smooth appeal was almost too good to be true and, past his “kind” smiles, you could make him out to be arrogant, vain, and cocky. Maybe you would have given him an actual chance had it not been for his snarkiness but all your brain could truly handle was his dick for a few hours a week.

Unsurprisingly, you always end up crashing at Beta Tau Sigma after one of their raging parties that results in your hook ups with Taehyung; surprisingly, Taehyung is miraculously into pillow talk post-sex and so he doesn’t entirely mind if you stay the night. But, by morning, when the alcohol has all but turned into a terrible hangover, he can hardly care less if you stay or not.

Usually, you wake up on your own, courtesy of past sober you setting an alarm on your phone to make sure you wake up earlier than all the other walkers of shame and anyone else in Beta Tau Sigma. Ideally, it was to help guarantee that no one would ever see you or judge you for stooping low enough to sleep with a fuckboy but you don’t know how well that’s working out for you anymore, if you’re being honest.

That’s why, early one fateful Sunday morning after a night of fun with Taehyung, you awaken with a start to the shrill Marimba tone that rips through the silence of the room and causes you to literally jump out of bed and crash onto the floor. You groan at the sharp pain that shoots up your spine and accompanies your groggy mind as your eyes flicker open only to be greeted with a blinding light that is the sun as it filters through the shut curtains. Littered on the ground are clothes, your clothes, beer bottles, red solo cups, discarded bed sheets, a singular condom wrapper (you thank your past selves for at least being sober enough to remember to use one), and your cell phone.

“Turn that shit off, for fuck sakes,” he grovels.

His hangover, and the early morning, makes his already deep voice even rougher, huskier, and you blame your disoriented mind for thinking he sounds even remotely sexy. He doesn’t bother to lift his head from his pillow or to find where you are in the room, the messy longer-than-usual curls of his hair flopping into his lashes as he flips onto his back. Other bodily remnants remain from the night before, from the mellowing ache between your legs left in the wake of his dick sufficiently railing you to the bite marks on his neck that you had so graciously bestowed him.

Now, you roll your eyes at him instead but dive for your phone nearby and tap the snooze button before it wakes the entire house and rouses the army of fuckboys from the dead.

“Good morning to you too,” You remark. “Is that better, princess?”

“Much.”

You push yourself to your feet and stretch, the stiff joints in your body popping and cracking, before searching for your clothes. You’re certain Taehyung has fallen back asleep as you dig around through the clutter to find your belongings but what else is new? It’s a routine the two of you have come to know well, and one that neither of you mind. You spot some sort of lacy material hidden underneath a few of Taehyung’s dirty laundry laying on the floor and reach for it thinking it’s yours. You’re only mildly disturbed to find that it isn’t yours at all ━ though you’re more concerned about the hygienic purposes of touching some other girl’s thong than you are about the blatant fact Taehyung sleeps with more girls than just you (a fact you swear you could care less for).

“Jesus Christ, your room is a disaster,” You scoff now.

“You could clean it,” Taehyung suggests sluggishly. Now, he’s awake, pretty and hooded eyes fluttering open to find you nearby. He props his hand behind his head to lift his gaze a little higher.

You snort, tossing the underwear away. “You never cease to━”

“Amaze you?”

“Repel me more than when I see the collection of thongs you have hidden in your room,” You correct. Fortunately, you spot your own underwear nearby and scoop it up, quickly slipping into them.

“Aw, baby, is that a bit of jealousy I hear?” Taehyung asks. He runs a hand through his dishevelled dark locks and shoots you a drowsy smirk. “You know you’re my one and only. I can always count on you when I want good head.”

“Please, flatter me some more, Tae,” You quip dryly.

As you hastily slide into your stiff shirt and jeans next and turn to face him, combing your fingers through your hair, Taehyung seems to take your words to heart and tries again. “You look like shit.”

You feign a voluntarily loud and overly dramatic moan. “Ugh, you really do know how to treat a girl━” Your cut off by a shameless snort from Taehyung before you continue on, “You know, you don’t exactly look the hottest right now either.”

“I beg to differ,” he replies nonchalantly. Technically, he isn’t lying, but you refuse to feed his ego any more.

“As if.”

“Funny,” he hums. “Could’ve sworn last night you were calling me hot when you were begging for my dick.”

You don’t bother to reply. Instead, you shake your head as you rub your tired face, uttering, “I need a coffee.”

“You could stay,” he offers. “I can make you one.”

“You don’t even know how to boil water,” You retort. “But thanks for the gesture. Try not to throw up on yourself today, okay?”

Taehyung mumbles something in response but then he’s already flipping over onto his side to fall back asleep again. You grab your bag from the floor and slip into your shoes before tiptoeing out of the room.

The Beta house is just as much a disaster as Taehyung’s room is and you find yourself stepping over more bottles, cups, empty pizza boxes, and hungover passed out people with phallic images doodled on their faces. The sun filters into the ever grand mansion and only illuminates the chaos the frat boys put it through. Everyone is thankfully still asleep as you head downstairs but, as you sneak past the kitchen, you notice two figures rummaging about, boisterous unabashed laughter filling the house that somehow hasn’t woken the others yet.

Jeon Jungkook stands before you with Park Jimin, both fellow Beta brothers, though Jungkook is in the same year as you. They, like most other Beta boys (and especially Taehyung), are well known on campus but Jungkook is perhaps even worse than Taehyung. Now, he’s adorned in only low hanging gray sweatpants that show off the ripples of his toned chest and the happy trail that threatens for your eyes to follow it. He holds a bowl of cereal close to him with the same arm decorated on every inch with tattoos, a snapback pushing his messy hair up and away from his forehead. The best part (and you mean that not at all) ━ or the worst ━ is the fact that he stands on a hoverboard, as if walking is too much for him to handle at nine in the morning. Jimin isn’t far off wearing the same attire, only his look is paired with the fuckboy-essential-starter-pack of socks and Adidas slides, and he’s at least actually using his legs to walk.

“Morning,” Jungkook smirks. “Time for the walk of shame?”

You have to retain a sigh. “I’m surprised you’re up, Jeon. I was sure you were gone past the point of saving last night.”

“A couple of shots do nothing for me,” Jungkook replies, shovelling a spoonful of cereal into his mouth. “I was pretty much sober.”

At this, you sit back on your heels and look him once over skeptically. “You kept trying to hook up with me, called your dick Jungcock, threw up in one of the vases, and then passed out in the bathtub. I wouldn’t have exactly called you sober.”

The smirk remains on Jungkook’s face. If anything, he seems more so amused and it pisses you off. Jimin bursts into a fit of laughter and shakes his head.

“Always a pleasure seeing you, Y/N,” he greets. “Hey, are you coming to the party going down at Lambdas house after exams? It’s pretty exclusive but you and your friends are all invited by courtesy of us.”

“Ugh, I can’t even think about going to another party right now. How do you Beta whores do it?” You grovel. “Besides, why would we come if we know you’re going to be there?”

“‘Cause Tae’s going and you’re probably gonna wanna suck his dick,” Jungkook suggests snidely.

“I was gonna say the free booze,” Jimin offers instead. “Man, you know the Lambdas. They’re all rich pretentious sons of country club owners. They hardly throw parties but, when they do, you know it’s going to be wild. I wouldn’t miss it if I were you.”

“Well,” You say, “thanks for the invitation but we’ll see. Maybe if we have a pre-game where I can get drunk enough to handle your faces and the Lambda boys together.”

“I’ve always said you’re more fun when you’re drunk,” Jungkook hums pensively. Your eyes narrow into a glare and you’re fortunate Jimin is there to block your path from tackling Jungkook.

“Okay, whatever,” You grumble. “I’m out of here. I think if I stay here any longer, I’ll lose all my brain cells.”

Jimin chuckles but hardly seems bothered by your comment. He waves you off as he slips out of the kitchen to retreat into another room, leaving you alone with Jungkook.

“Can I get you anything before you go?” he asks. There’s a cheeky tone laced in his words that makes you blatantly aware he’s trying to suggest something more, like his dick.

“Absolutely not,” You wave him off. “See you around, Jungidiot.”

He grins and shoves another spoonful into his mouth. “Hey, maybe next Saturday you can think about blowing me instead of Tae, yeah?”

He’s met with you jamming your middle finger in his face and it only seems to entertain him further. As you march out of their home, slamming the door behind you, you have one discernable thought amongst your hangover and that is that you’ll definitely need to have that pre-game before you have the audacity to even see Jungkook, or any of the Beta boys for that matter, at the Lambdas.

That Saturday, you find yourself at the Lambdas house party.

So maybe you had sort of been lying when you said you weren’t so sure of going to it, but the thought was tempting enough and you aren’t one to pass up on a good party, especially when it’s after weeks of headaches and stressing over studying and exams.

Mid-terms come and go and when you finally finish writing your last paper, all you want to do is let loose and party and get dicked down by Taehyung. The Lambdas, despite their pretentious behaviour, looks to be very promising ━ but only after you down a few shots beforehand and have a beer while you’re getting ready. You’re not exactly as drunk or as tipsy as you would have prefered but it still gives you a nice enough buzz that makes you warm and lets the adrenaline pump in your veins and excites you even more for the party. The house you rent is off campus but it’s close to Beta’s and Taehyung offers to give you guys a lift to the Lambdas who are a fifteen minute walk away (but you know Taehyung will do anything to not walk anywhere his penny board can’t take him ━ and it’s not even Taehyung who is driving but his friend, Jin).

You can hear the party at Lambdas before you’re even there. The thump of bass coming from the house isn’t hard to miss, especially not with the way it seems to rattle the ground the closer you get. The house is crammed full to capacity and people have already begun to spill onto the lawn by the time you have arrived. A potent waft of alcohol and weed fill your senses and it is all you could really make out in the rambunctious party. You can hardly hear yourself think, let alone what others are saying to you. Yet, you still found a way to have fun almost instantly, drifting away from the guys to party with your friends.

Most of the night is a blur and a haze of confusion but you can remember drinking and drinking some more until you’re sufficiently smashed. You can’t quite recall where you had lost your friends, though you suspect it was after the intense game of beer pong you were suckered into in which you were certain there were no winners or losers as it was just an excuse to drink even more. It’s nearing 1 a.m. when you finally bump into a familiar face, pulling you back from the unruly party and the adrenaline rush coursing through your veins.

You’ve just slipped outside for some fresh air, perched on the front porch, when you notice Jimin is passed out on the lawn below. The other stragglers gathered outside barely take note of him but maybe that’s because he had chosen to faceplant in the shadows under the porch, tucked safely away from the rest of the party. Just before you can even think to walk over to him and make sure he’s still alive, the front door of the house swings wide open and a frenzied Taehyung bursts outside, shortly followed by an equally dumbfounded Jungkook.

“Where the fuck is he?” Taehyung hisses.

“I don’t know,” Jungkook sighs, disgruntled, “but leave it to him to run off and disappear.”

“Looking for someone?”

The two boys startle at your voice. They whirl around to find you taking a sip of the drink in your hand, as if only just noticing your presence. You hadn’t seen them since you parted ways a handful of hours ago in the party, though you’re fairly certain they’re just as smashed as you.

“Ah, babe!” Taehyung beams wolfishly. “What a pleasure seeing you out here. Uh, you wouldn’t happen to have seen where Jimin went, would you?”

You nod in the direction of the sleeping boy down below. “He’s there. He’s passed out cold, though. What the hell did you do to him?”

“Nothing,” Jungkook says. He grimaces as he hastily follows Taehyung down onto the lawn to stand near Jimin, and you in tow. “Jimin just likes to get out of hand. What should we do, Tae? We can’t just leave him here and Luna’s going to be pissed if she sees him like this.”

Taehyung stares down at Jimin miserably, thinking momentarily. “Well, Luna’s looking for him so we might as well drop him off at her dorm. He can deal with her when he’s sober.”

There’s a brief moment where you spot Jungkook seriously considering this though, as if leaving Jimin on the lawn of a frat house is a safer option than returning him to his girlfriend. Ultimately, he caves and you watch as Taehyung nudges Jimin awake (and by nudge, you mean he slaps the boy across the face) before pulling a very disoriented Jimin to his feet and slinging one of his arms over Taehyung’s neck.

“Fuck, he’s heavy,” Taehyung huffs. “Give me a hand, Jungkook.”

Jungkook nods, stepping forward to take Jimin’s other arm and hook it around his own neck. The two boys seem to be struggling carrying most of Jimin’s body weight, though they’re carrying mostly dead weight as Jimin continues to drift in and out of consciousness.

Before they can leave you offer to help though you don’t know what you can really do so you suspect your inebriated mind just wanted to go with them for the hell of it. Luna’s place isn’t far. It’s a ten minute walk from Lambda’s, but in that ten minutes, none of you talk about anything of real importance except for chuckle and laugh about things that happened at the party.

Eventually you make it to Luna’s, who answers the door angrily after you knock on it as if you’ve disrupted her slumber and frowns when she sees Jimin’s current state. At least she has the decency to thank the three of you. When she shuts the door behind her, the three of you turn to look at one another, almost clueless.

“So, what now?” Taehyung asks. “Head back to the party?”

The thought of making the ten minute walk back to the party in your drunken mind seems like an eternity. That, mixed with the way your feet scream in agony from the heels you’re wearing, you begin to pout and shake your head.

“I can’t walk anymore,” You whine, words drunkenly slurring together. “I’d be fine just sitting here.”

Jungkook’s nose scrunches as he looks at you once over. “How drunk are you?”

“I don’t know.”

“Well, how about we just go back to our place?” Taehyung asks. His arm slides around your waist then, tugging you close to his side. If one thing is for certain, the boy tends to get more handsy the more drunk he is, and you never seem to mind. “I’ve got a fresh bowl we can hit and we can drink there and just chill?”

You and Jungkook consider Taehyung’s offer fleetingly and, to you, it seems much more appealing.

“Sign me up,” You say. “The Lambdas were a bit too over the top for my liking. There’s only so much I can handle.”

Jungkook shrugs and nods in agreement. “Then I guess I’m going with you guys.”

The five minute walk to Beta is short and soon you’re inside the eerily empty house and climbing the steps to Taehyung’s room but not before the three of you raid their cabinets for any type of liquor. Eventually, you’re all lounging in Taehyung’s room, some type of music playing in the background as the three of you pass around a bottle of whisky and the bong Taehyung had promised he had, giggling at each other.

By 2 a.m., you are smashed and faded but blissfully so.

Taehyung and Jungkook are not too far off. It’s Taehyung who comes up with the idea to play strip poker, though with a twist. His version of the game includes: taking a shot anytime one of you loses a round along with either stripping an article of clothing or being allowed to pass it and get dared to do something else, though each person only has three passes.

Jungkook loses the first round, shedding only his jacket. Taehyung and you lose the second round; you decide to strip out of your own cardigan while Taehyung flicks off his hat. Jungkook and Taehyung lose the third round and both kick off their shoes. The game progresses slowly, with the three of you coming up with “clever” loopholes out of the rules, like stripping one sock one round and then another sock the next and all of you are too drunk to really protest. Eventually, the game winds up with Taehyung and Jungkook both in their pants and you still wearing both your shirt and jeans. Both the boys have used one of their passes and are still losing which, you will admit, boosts your confidence ever so slightly especially when you have such a nice view in front of you.

Both boys are toned, with certified gym rat Jungkook’s abs a bit more chiseled, and you know that sober you would cringe at how hard you seem to be drooling over them. Jungkook must notice because he shoots you a wink that has you squirming in your seat.

“Like what you see?” he asks.

“N-No,” You say shortly. “Shut up and go. It’s your turn.”

You end up losing that round, unfortunately, but you have no qualms with stripping out of your jeans and kicking them to the side. The next round, you lose again, except you decide to use one of your passes which has both boys groaning in defeat.

“Remember,” You coo, “play nice boys.”

The two exchange a look and you wait patiently, taking your shot of whisky in the meantime as Taehyung chides you on encouragingly with a cheeky, “Pour up, baby girl.”

You down the shot in one gulp, wincing as it burns down your throat, then chase it quickly with the drink you had stolen from their kitchen. A drowsy smirk tugs at Taehyung’s lips as he takes another rip from the bong, breathing out a cloud of smoke as he hums insouciantly, “I’ve got your dare.”

There’s a split moment where he makes eye contact with you and pushes his hair out of his eyes.

“Come here and kiss me.”

Had you been sober, you might have rolled your eyes at his simple yet assertive dare but, instead, you can’t help but snicker as you lean across to him from your seat on the floor and pull him down for a not so graceful kiss. His whisky coated tongue instantly collides with yours in an open mouthed frenzy that’s full of teeth clashing and wet sounds but it’s hot, too hot, even as Taehyung pulls you closer to him with his hand grasping at your chin. You instinctively react, teeth nipping at his lower lip as you suck hard, momentarily forgetting about Jungkook sitting in the room.

A moan emits from you as your fingers thread through his hair. Jungkook is left to watch but his eyes stay locked on your figure and the way you cave so easily to Taehyung, the way your mouth moves against his. He can’t seem to tear his eyes away from your position on your hands and knees, or the way you arch your back in an attempt to get closer to Taehyung, and he certainly can’t seem to look away from the tempting curve of your ass jutting in his direction. All Jungkook suddenly wants is for you to be kissing him the same way you’re kissing Taehyung.

You’re only interrupted when he finds the nerve to clear his throat after a few moments. “Nah, it’s alright, I’ll just sit here. Do you guys want me to leave?”

He’s being sarcastic, of course, and when you and Taehyung part to look at the boy, he’s scowling. The two of you chuckle lightly but don’t respond, though you remember the game you’re still playing. Taehyung kisses you one last time before you settle back onto the floor, a sheepish giggle bubbling in your chest. Taehyung loses the next round and he decides to strip down into his underwear though he hasn’t lost yet (the goal is nudity and neither of your drunk selves have enough dignity left to give up before then).

The round after that, you lose again. You decide, once more, to use another one of your passes and the two boys pause, thinking of a dare for you as you take a shot (which, you have realized, only get harder to take as time passes).

“I have one,” Taehyung says at long last.

“Bro,” Jungkook groans, “if you just wanna fuck, let me know. I’ll leave. I don’t think I can sit here and watch you dare her to suck your face again.”

Taehyung laughs and shakes his head. “Easy there. I was just gonna suggest that you━” he points at you before nodding toward Jungkook, “give him a lap dance.”

“A what?” Jungkook’s jaw drops open, his eyes widening. “M-Me?”

You glance up at Taehyung, quirking an eyebrow. “Him?”

Taehyung erupts into another fit of laughter but he’s the only one who finds the situation hilarious because you and Jungkook continue to sit there, dumbfounded. When Taehyung calms himself down, he wipes his eyes and shakes his head.

“Are you seriously telling me you haven’t been noticing?” he asks.

“Noticing what?”

“The way Jungkook keeps eye-fucking you,” Taehyung says simply.

Jungkook gaps. “The fuck? I haven’t.”

“Jungkook, you’re not exactly sly,” Taehyung says. “He’s been doing it the whole night, babe. It’s not the first time he’s done it, too. I just figured we could do him a little favour.”

Your turn to look up at Jungkook and purse your lips. He’s seated in Taehyung’s desk chair and has a frown painted on his face. It’s not like it comes as a surprise to you because he’s constantly trying to flirt with you even when you’re sober but his sudden flustered appearance puzzles you slightly. You’ll admit the idea is ludicrous, but Jungkook is undeniably hot, and grinding on his dick sounds more than wonderful to you in your current state. Either way, you stand to your feet.

“I’ll do it,” You say. “Why not?”

“Wh-What?” Jungkook yelps. “You will?”

“Yeah,” You flash him a pearly smirk. “What? Is confident Jungkookie finally shy?”

At the mention of the taunting nickname, he straightens up in his seat and scowls. “No. I’m just surprised you gave in so easily. You must really like me, huh?”

“Keep dreaming, Jeon,” You retort.

The music is still playing in the background as you slink towards Jungkook’s seated figure. Meanwhile, Taehyung is watching with an amused look on his face and sits back, clearly enjoying the view as he tells you that you have three minutes. As you approach Jungkook, he leans back in his seat and watches you with dark eyes. Jungkook’s eyes sweep over your figure, from the way you muse your hands through your messy hair, your tight tank top with one strap falling down your shoulder, your lacy and scantily clad underwear, and your smooth legs. He gulps at the sight and shifts in his seat.

As soon as you’re standing in front of him, you whirl around so that your back is to him and jutt your butt out just enough to catch his attention as you sway your hips to the music. Your hands ghost up your sides just faintly enough so that chills run down your spine and you lock eyes with Taehyung for a split second to see him grinning. You sit back on Jungkook’s lap and his breath hitches in his throat suddenly. He hates to admit how easily you’re driving him crazy and as soon as you are but he takes the time to enjoy the dance anyway, eyes staying trained on your ass as you grind against him in agonizingly slow circles and right against his dick nestled against his thigh. He can’t help it when a moan emits from him.

“Fucking hell,” he grunts, raking his hands through his hair. You snicker at his reaction, craning your neck to look behind at him.

“Enjoying yourself, Kookie?”

“N-No,” he rasps. This is a lie, of course. “Turn around.”

His command only humours you but you don’t disobey. You get up for a second to spin around and face him before climbing back onto his lap, swinging one leg over his. Before you drop your hips completely on him, you’re rocking them back and forth against the thin air, your hands snaking around his neck. His hands suddenly find purchase on your waist and he yanks you down onto him with a sudden neediness that surprises you, though you don’t complain. You continue to grind against his lap and you can’t help your greedy self when your hands reach out to run up and down his toned chest. He shivers at your slightest touch, his jaw clenched, but he keeps his gaze focused on your eyes, as if challenging you for more. Behind you, Taehyung is taking another hit from the bong and laughs lightly at Jungkook’s reactions.

“Let him touch you,” Taehyung says.

You expect Jungkook to listen to Taehyung and reach out to grab onto you but he hesitates, his hands remaining at your hips. So, instead, you take his hands in yours and begin pulling them up, sliding them along your midriff and up to your chest. You don’t even flinch as you let him cup your boobs over your clothes and you watch him slyly as he gulps.

“Is this the first time you’ve actually touched a girl, Jungkook?” You quip. “You’re gawking at my boobs like it is. Not gonna wet yourself, hm?”

“Fuck off,” he growls, though there’s no malice in his voice.

Instead, he focuses his attention on your breasts and the weight of them in his palm. They’re soft and supple and he squeezes them firmly, jiggles the flesh as he fondles at you blatantly. He hates to admit it but he feels as if he’s going to combust at any second, repressing the sudden urge to tear off your shirt and burrow his head in your chest, your boobs in his mouth. He doesn’t know whether the soft moan that slips from your parted pink lips is intentional to mess with him or because you had been getting carried away yourself. Either way, Jungkook’s certain it’s the hottest thing he’s heard in a while, the hottest thing he’s seen in a while, and he hates how his sudden erection forms, how embarrassing it must be. When you feel his hardened length start to poke at your thigh, you look down at him past your lashes and smirk.

“Are you hard already, Kookie?” You giggle.

Taehyung roars with laughter abruptly and the outburst only makes Jungkook redden.

“I━I━” he stammers helplessly.

You shake your head at him and then purposely press your hips a little more firmly against his, gripping at his shoulders now. You’re challenging him now too, and he doesn’t know what you have in mind but you’re wickedly set on making him cum in his pants before Taehyung stops you.

“Time’s up,” he says.

Jungkook almost groans out loud in frustration when you pull away and step off of his lap. He’s embarrassingly hard now but his drunk self doesn’t try very hard to hide it. Taehyung’s stare is settled on Jungkook as you walk back to your seat but, before you can even sit down, Taehyung is beckoning you over.

“Come here, babe,” he hums. You look at him curiously but move in his direction. “What do you say we help Jungkook with his problem, huh?”

“Help? How?” You question.

“Come sit,” Taehyung gestures to his thigh.

Jungkook watches with silent seething jealousy as you take a seat on Taehyung’s thigh and then he’s kissing you, pressing his lips against your neck. You react almost instantly, your head craning to allow him more access and your eyes clamp shut, your mouth hanging open in delight.

“Tae━” You mewl, tugging at his hair, as if to prompt him wordlessly about Jungkook’s presence. But when does it become too much? Every action seems to keep building and building, that you know where the night surely must be heading; that you crave it.

Taehyung’s tongue swirls at your neck, his lips sucking on the sensitive skin, before he peeks one eye open to look at Jungkook.

“Look at him,” Taehyung hums against you. “Look at how jealous he is right now. Look at how bad he wants to be me right now.”

You take a moment to register his words, your head spinning. You struggle to find Jungkook as Taehyung continues to ravish your neck. Jungkook’s stare is hard, his jaw clenched; his hands are balled into tight fists that let you see the bulging veins in his arms. Is he jealous? Angry?

Taehyung suddenly bites down onto your neck and you gasp in surprise, leaning against his chest. His nimble fingers find the hem of your shirt which he lifts and discards on the floor with ease. Next to come off is your bra. You don’t realize your torso is bare until a slight breeze hits your breasts and perks your nipples and Taehyung reaches up to cup the soft tissue in his large hands and Jungkook can’t look away because, fuck, touching you is all he really wants to do.

“Do you see him staring now?” Taehyung asks. “Do you see how desperate he is for you? Look at how bad he wants to touch you right now, baby girl. Will you let him?”

You’re still staring at Jungkook as Taehyung speaks and note how fast Jungkook’s demeanour has changed. He looks helpless, his erection more prominent in his straining jeans which he shamelessly palms at to feel some sort of relief.

“Better yet,” Taehyung hums, averting your attention back to him. He’s sliding one of his hands down your front and in between your legs, pushing your thighs apart. His digits come in contact with your clothed pussy and the sudden touch, light and feathery, makes you jump and gasp. You hadn’t been aware of how wet you had been until he touched you just then and the coil in your stomach only tightens with each passing second. “Will you let him play with you?”

It takes you a second to respond, though that isn’t because you’re struggling to decide. The thought entices you far more than you ever believed it could. Taehyung is suddenly rubbing his fingers against your clothed clit in so very slow circles that it suddenly has you tripping over your own thoughts. You’re biting hard onto your lower lip as you force yourself to nod hastily.

“Do you want him to?” Taehyung asks.

“Fuck, yes,” You whine. “Mmm, Tae━”

Taehyung shifts you in his lap so that your back is pressed against his chest, leaning all your weight against him. It’s hard to focus as one of his hands fondles one of your breasts while his other presses figure eights onto your clit. You’re on full display for Jungkook now, though his eyes fall to the wet spot that forms on your pretty little underwear as your arousal leaks from you.

“How badly do you want him to?” Taehyung asks.

“So badly,” You whimper.

This catches Jungkook’s attention and he leans forward in his seat. Taehyung smirks against you and then he’s moving, withdrawing his hand from between your thighs to hook around the waistband of your underwear. He gives it a quick tug and you fumble to lift your hips so he can pull the useless fabric down your legs. Once it pools at your feet, you kick it off to the side and then Taehyung’s hand returns between your thighs.

“Spread your legs,” he says.

You do as you’re told, pushing your thighs apart but then instinctively squeezing them shut when Taehyung continues to press his fingers against your clit. The sudden stimulation is too much for you and your face begins to heat up so Taehyung uses the chance to push your legs apart for you. He hitches one of your thighs over his own as if to anchor you in place and it works.

“Can you stay like that for me, baby?” Taehyung drawls. “Look at Jungkook for me.”

You nod, your throat dry as you lift your gaze to lock eyes once more with Jungkook. You find the boy gawking at your sex and you moan suddenly. His head snaps up to stare at you with a sudden blazing determination and lust in his eyes before they fall once more to your pussy, admiring the way it pulsates each time Taehyung swipes at your clit or tweaks at your nipples. But the best part? The best part is just how wet you are, your clear juices coating Taehyung’s fingers, spilling onto yours and Taehyung’s thighs with the passing seconds, and suddenly Jungkook is hungry for you. But what he doesn’t know is how you suddenly imagine Jungkook in Taehyung’s place, sat beneath you poised daintily on his lap, his fingers pressing against you.

You twist on top of Taehyung, your own hand reaching up to grasp at your other breast, pinching at the nipple tightly. A delighted moan fumbles from your lips. “Jungkook━ Fuck━”

“It’s nice, yeah?” Taehyung asks aloud to the other boy. “She’s pretty, hm?”

Jungkook nods eagerly and then groans. “She’s dripping. Fuck, it’s so hot.”

Your face burns at his words but you don’t have enough wits to think of a snarky retort like usual.

Taehyung chuckles. “Why don’t you come here then and touch her? Taste her? Is that okay, baby?”

When you realize Taehyung is asking you, you nod eagerly. “Shit, please━ Jungkook, wanna feel you━”

At your request, Jungkook practically tumbles out of his seat. As soon as he’s standing on his feet, the realization seems to hit him and he takes his time, walking to you slowly. His gaze sweeps over your exposed body and he licks his lips, his eyes suddenly darkening. Taehyung doesn’t stop touching you or marking your neck his even as Jungkook walks closer and it hits you in that moment what exactly you’re doing and who you’re with ━ and you fucking love it. Jungkook kneels down in front of you and Taehyung nods in encouragement.

“She’s impatient and feisty,” Taehyung informs. “But that makes her fun to tease.”

“I know how to pleasure a girl,” Jungkook quips.

“But you don’t know how to pleasure Y/N,” Taehyung replies. “You’re too cocky, Jungkookie, and she doesn’t like that. You need to take your time with her and you don’t do that often with girls, do you?”

Jungkook doesn’t respond but, judging by his face, you assume Taehyung is right.

“What do you want me to do?” Jungkook asks. He’s staring at your face now and only your face. His intense stare makes you squirm on Taehyung’s lap, and makes you suck your lower lip between your teeth.

“Touch me,” You rasp. “Touch me, please, Jungkook.”

God, how he loves hearing you moan his name. But the anticipation is killing you. You’ve felt Taehyung’s fingers plenty of time; you’ve never felt Jungkook’s, and the abrupt need seems to grow more intense with each passing second.

“You heard her, Jungkookie,” Taehyung says. He draws his hand away from your heat and kisses your neck softly. “Go on. Touch her. Be gentle, go slow.”

Jungkook is shaking with excitement ━ or maybe it’s just the weed and alcohol in his bloodstream ━ but he eyes you carefully, gnawing down on his lower lip. He reaches out at a tedious pace and hesitates, his fingers hovering over your core. Taehyung is watching with eager eyes whilst planting open mouthed kisses along your shoulders, neck, and jawline. Jungkook finally presses his fingers against your pussy and your reaction is immediate. You toss your head back against Taehyung’s shoulder and jutt your hips forward.

“Nnngh, fuck, Kook━” You whimper. “M-More━ Wanna feel more━”

Jungkook takes that as a good sign and follows after Taehyung, rubbing circles into your clit slowly. He feels just how wet you are, his fingers coating with your cum as they move with ease past your folds, and it’s enough to let the wave of glee wash over him again.

“See? Look how much she loves it already,” Taehyung says. “Keep going.”

Jungkook doesn’t need to be told twice. As he rubs his fingers over your clit, his other hand comes up in a greedy fashion. He can’t stop himself from slipping a finger past your folds and it takes all you can not to moan out loud but you give up on the prospect of remaining quiet when it feels so good to have both boys on you.

“Let him know how you feel, baby,” Taehyung purs. “How he’s making you feel.”

You struggle to find your voice momentarily, too caught up with the lust and desire but then a cry of delight falls from your lips. “Fuck, ah, Jungkook! That feels s-so good━”

Jungkook’s head snaps up to look at you in pure disbelief.

“Holy shit, that’s so fucking hot,” he huffs. “I never thought you’d moan my name and now you’re so wet and tight and for me━”

“And me,” Taehyung admonishes offhandedly.

Jungkook doesn’t reply but that’s mostly because he’s suddenly fixated on curling his finger inside of you and watching your every reaction. Your hips jut forward and you cry out, panting at the blissful feeling but it isn’t enough. You need more, and you need more now. As if Taehyung can read your mind, he chimes in again, disrupting yours and Jungkook’s reverie.

“Why don’t you have a taste of her?” he asks. “You won’t regret it.”

Jungkook’s eyes light up and he watches as you nod eagerly, desperate pleas coming from your mouth. Jungkook lowers himself down between your thighs and you wait with bated breath before he’s licking a clean stripe against your folds with his flattened tongue. The sudden slippery warmth has your body writhing in pleasure.

“Jungkook━” You cry out. “Oh my god━”

Jungkook grins. Then he’s licking at you again, tasting your sweet succulence, and groans into your hot core.

“Shit,” Jungkook huffs. “You taste amazing.”

He nibbles down slightly on your clit without warning and tugs. You instantly jerk into his mouth, a strangled moan ripping from your throat that sounds something like a scold of his name and a desperate plea for more. “Jungkook!”

Taehyung snickers against your neck and you can feel Jungkook’s lips curl into a taunting smirk between your thighs. Jungkook’s finger still curls deep within you as his tongue returns to lapping at your clit and you can feel his nose brushing against you the deeper he burrows into you. Meanwhile, Taehyung is continuing to ravish your neck, his hands tweaking at your nipples. The onslaught of senses is so much for you that you nearly scream when Jungkook’s tongue dips into your heat so suddenly to accompany his finger. He laps at you hungrily and you gasp, your breath stuttering as your hands come down to tug hard in his raven locks, your hips bucking forward and into his mouth. It feels fantastic, too incredible for you to put into words, as you feel the wetness of his tongue lap at your walls and suddenly you’re aware of just how susceptible you are to both of the boys near you.

“Fuck, don’t stop, Jungkook,” You moan.

“Now who’s the needy one?” Jungkook coos against your cunt. “Gonna cum on my tongue?”

“P-Please━ Want it so badly, Kook━”

He smacks his lips against you, taking as much as he can of you into his mouth and sucking hard until all you hear are the lewd wet sounds of his tongue and finger working miracles against you. You’re clutching his hair so tight, pushing him closer into your heat but he doesn’t relent. One of his hands comes up to hold onto your waist, to push you firmly back onto Taehyung’s lap and closer into Jungkook’s mouth. You can feel Taehyung’s budding erection poking against your thigh and it’s enough to make you flustered once more.

In an attempt to help Taehyung, you find yourself grinding not only into Jungkook’s mouth but onto Taehyung’s lap, earning a growl into your neck. Taehyung’s free hand comes up to your chin which he grabs roughly. He forces you to look at him and then he’s smashing his lips onto yours in a heated fashion for an entirely ungraceful kiss. It’s needy and hot, completely open mouthed as your tongues mingle in the air and as Taehyung sucks on your lower lip. Yet you tear your gaze from Taehyung to look down at Jungkook as he buries himself further into your pussy, his nose nuzzling against your clit. You’re dripping by now and you can see your own juices smear onto his lips, dribble down to his chin, and it’s the hottest thing you could ever imagine seeing. He doesn’t seem to care as it spills down his neck and suddenly the mere sight has you squirming again. You part from Taehyung’s mouth with a wet pop that rings in your ears and moan.

“Fuck━ nghn, I━I━ think I’m close,” You whimper.

“Fuuck, yes,” Jungkook growls against you.

“Let it go, baby,” Taehyung hums, nibbling at your ear. “Cum for him, for us.”

Jungkook’s pace quickens, pumping his finger faster in you and sucking at your clit until you have no more strength to hold off. Your hands fumble in his hair, trying desperately to pull him closer, and you hate how badly you want your sweet release already. It doesn’t help when Taehyung twists your body ever so slightly so that he can lean down to your breasts and catch one of your nipples between his teeth. His tongue swishes back and forth against the perked bud and you whimper again, the coil in your stomach tightening and loosening.

You’re so close now and Jungkook can hear it, can feel it, can taste it. You don’t have much longer after that before your orgasm is hitting you hard.

“I’m gonna━” You reach out to grasp at Jungkook’s hair, tugging at the roots. “Fuck, Jungkook━”

You cry out suddenly, the coil in your stomach springing apart. Jungkook moans into your pussy as you cum, pulsating around his tongue and finger and dripping into his mouth. You’re reduced to nothing but a whimpering, writhing mess against Taehyung as you buck back and forth into Jungkook’s mouth to ride out your high. Taehyung pulls apart from you to rub circles into your hips and the seemingly gentle move somehow soothes the intense wave of pleasure into something much sweeter. Fire burns at your core and flicks outward until your whole body is warm and numb and then you collapse against Taehyung’s chest, panting hard. Jungkook drinks up every last bit of you and you begin to cringe at the oversensitivity before you gain some of your wits again. You push his head away hastily and this time he relents.

“Did all your little happy wet dreams finally come true, Jeon?” You snicker languidly.

The boy sits back on his knees and looks up at you, locking gazes with yours. You can finally see his face, his tousled black hair, his swollen red lips, and chin, all of which are covered in your perfect sheen. He licks at his lips and wipes at his chin and neck where his tongue can’t reach and he does all of this without breaking eye contact with you. A small smirk forms on his face and suddenly you’re filled with an intense need for payback.

“Yeah, you act confident now but you seemed to enjoy it when you were riding my face,” Jungkook says. You roll your eyes, about to reply before he adds, “So, you’re welcome.”

“You’re impossible,” You huff, pushing yourself off of Taehyung’s lap.

“Where do you think you’re going, baby?” Taehyung mewls behind you. “We still need you.”

“Oh, I know,” You quip. You reach down to grab onto Jungkook’s chin, forcing him to look up at you. “But it’s my turn, don’t you think, Tae?”

Taehyung chuckles and nods in agreement. Jungkook, however, hardly looks bothered, though he seems a little taken aback by your sudden assertiveness when you begin pulling him up to his feet before pushing him back onto the bed. Taehyung scoots over so that the three of you can fit comfortably on his bed and then you’re moving, crawling over to Jungkook on your hands and knees.

“Are you trying to intimidate me?” Jungkook asks. “Because this is sexier than it is scary.”

You’re hovering over his crotch when he speaks, your greedy hands reaching forward to brush against his hard dick straining in his jeans. He nearly jolts in his seat at the sudden touch and you and Taehyung giggle again.

“Mmm, baby, teach him a lesson,” Taehyung hums. “Suck him off nice and slow but don’t let him cum.”

“Not unless he begs for it,” You say wickedly.

Taehyung stifles a chuckle. “I told you she’s feisty, Jungkookie.”

The younger boy is eyeing you carefully as you busy yourself by undoing the belt buckle on his jeans. He acts unimpressed, unfazed, as you unbutton his jeans and began sliding them off his legs, but you can see the needy and impatient glint in his eyes. Your eyes fall immediately to the ever present straining bulge in his boxers and you gulp in response, licking your lips. You can’t help yourself when you reach out to brush your fingers faintly along his length. He jolts in his seat and grits his teeth, shooting you a hard glare.

“Are you seriously going to tease me?” Jungkook grumbles. “We can skip all of that, y’know━”

“It’s payback, Jeon,” You hum, running your fingers down his dick and then back up again. “Where’s the fun in it if I skip all of the teasing?”

“You know,” Taehyung murmurs from beside you. He’s reclining back, watching you with intense eyes and is completely shameless about his prominent erection contained by his boxers. “I’m surprised the idiot hasn’t referred to his dick yet as Jungcock.”

You giggle, an all too innocent and sweet sound for the way you’re palming at Jungkook’s dick. Jungkook, who is apparently having a rather difficult time keeping up with his surroundings while your fingers continue to work against him, scoffs. His eyebrows knit together as he throws a beady glare at the older boy.

“You’re ruining the mood,” he grunts.

Taehyung clicks his tongue against his teeth, a smirk tugging at his luscious lips. “Of course. I digress.”

You turn your attention back to Jungkook who’s staring down at your hand with parted lips and a crease in his brows. Without warning, you grasp him through his boxers and he groans suddenly, bucking forward. The desperation of his situation only seems to increase in severity when you peel back the elastic band of his boxers and slide them off his legs, finally freeing his dick which springs out from it’s confines. He’s much bigger than you expected, his tip angry and red, leaking with pearly beads that dribble down his length and the bulging veins that line it.

“You’re staring again,” Jungkook hums when he notices you pause, your eyes wide. “Sure you don’t like what you see?”

You shake yourself from your daze and frown. “Shut up.”

The boy starts to chuckle at your flustered expression but yelps when you clasp your fingers around the base of his cock. A beautiful moan falls from his lips and excites you even more. You start pumping him slowly, guiding your hands up and down his length in careful and measured motions, wiping your thumb across his tip each time you reach it. Jungkook shudders in your touch, his teeth coming down to gnaw hard on his lower lip. His eyes are glued to your hands working against him, his face scrunching up in pure euphoria.

“Mmm, fuck,” he grunts, his head lolling back. “Stop teasing me and go faster.”

You don’t listen. If anything, you slow your pace and it has him so frustrated that he lets an involuntary whimper escape him. He bucks into your clenched hand, practically begging for more but remains quiet, safe for his heavy panting.

“You heard her, Kook,” Taehyung says. “Beg for her.”

“There’s no way I’m begging,” Jungkook hisses through gritted teeth. “Never. I never have and never will.”

“Bullshit,” You scoff. You fondle at his balls with your other hand and he moans again. Your hand comes to a complete halt all of a sudden, interrupting Jungkook as he is about to speak. Before he can protest, you lean down and lick at his tip, swirling your tongue around him once to taste his saltiness. His hips rut forward into you but you pull back almost immediately and find Jungkook gaping. You meet his desperate eyes for a steady gaze. “Beg. Just once, Jungkookie.”

Jungkook’s stare wavers as you run your fingers along his tip, squeezing slightly. He tries to compose himself, to remain calm, but when you are relentless, he caves very easily. He only gives in when you kiss the base of his cock. And those eyes ━ fuck, the way your eyes turn so wide and already look so fucked out. How could he resist you?

“Fuck, fuck, okay,” he gasps. “I need more, baby, please. Ah, please━ You feel so fucking good.”

His needy pleas satisfy you and your lips curl into a devious grin. You lower yourself on him suddenly, licking a clean stripe up his length and he moans loudly. You enclose your mouth around his tip and suck, earning a small growl from him as he pushes his hips forward for more. In the next second, you sink your mouth down his length, taking as much of him as you can.

“Fuck!” he moans abruptly. “Ahh, shit, that feels amazing, baby.”

You hollow out your cheeks as you pull your head up and then back down, starting at an even pace that has him moaning and writhing beneath you. He feels much bigger in your mouth but you don’t mind even when he bucks himself into you unexpectedly and hits the back of your throat. The action makes you gag around him and, in return, he curses at the way it feels.

“K-Keep doing that,” he mumbles. “Please, fuck, just like that.”

His fingers thread in your hair and he pulls you down greedily on him but you don’t refuse.

“Can you do it, baby girl?” Taehyung questions. His hand finds his way on your back where he rubs gentle circles into your skin. “Can you take all of him in your mouth?”

You nod carefully around Jungkook’s hardened length.

“Good girl,” Taehyung smirks. “Go slow.”

You follow his orders, sinking gradually onto Jungkook until you feel the tip of him hitting the back of your throat. You gag once more but, instead of pulling back, you shut your eyes and take a few deep breaths in through your nose. In, out, in, out, and then you swallow. Jungkook’s reaction is sudden and intense. He bucks into your mouth unwillingly and moans even louder, his fingers clutching at your roots.

“That’s it, baby,” Taehyung hums and his sudden presence is comforting.

“A-Again,” Jungkook stammers. “Again, please━ holy shit, you feel amazing.”

You swallow again and then a third and each time you can feel yourself sinking lower onto him. Tears prickle at your eyes as your nose is suddenly pressed against his lower abdomen but his reactions are well worth it and so you continue.

“You’re doing so well, baby,” Taehyung says, planting a chaste kiss against your shoulder. “You deserve some more attention, hm?”

His fingers slowly rub circles down your back, his lips following your arch and has you shivering beneath him, before stopping at the dip just above your ass. He’s kneeling behind you now, his fingers massaging into your thighs. You sigh against Jungkook when you feel Taehyung’s fingers continue their trek to your ass, rubbing you carefully. You, in response, push your hips back, waiting for more.

“You’re still so wet, baby,” Taehyung says. “I bet you’d come with one touch of my finger.”

With Jungkook buried hilt deep inside your mouth, you’re hardly prepared for when Taehyung slips his fingers underneath to your folds. It’s embarrassing to admit how right he is. You react instantly, moaning around Jungkook and jutting your hips back for more. The simple vibration has Jungkook groaning, his hips bucking forward. You hadn’t even been aware of just how wet you are before Taehyung pointed it out but then you can feel it, pulsing out of you and dripping down the top of your inner thighs.

“But you need more, don’t you?” Taehyung asks. “How about my cock? Will you let me fuck you, baby girl?”

You nod eagerly, the simple question exciting you even more. Taehyung chuckles and leans down to press a kiss to the arch of your back.

“But you’ll have to be good and keep pleasuring Jungkook too, okay?” Taehyung says.

You hum in response and swallow around Jungkook as if to tell both boys that you have no plans on stopping. Jungkook twitches inside you and scrunches his eyes shut.

“Fuck, Taehyung,” he grumbles. “Hurry up. Any time you touch her, she swallows. It feels so good.”

Taehyung snickers but he takes his time. He runs his fingers up and down your folds until you’re moaning needily against Jungkook. You look over your shoulder to see Taehyung’s fingers wrapped around his own hardened and pulsating erection, pumping himself a few times as he stares at you carefully. He positions himself behind you and takes the chance to run his tip and length along your folds. You whimper suddenly, hoping your desperate noises will spur him on.

“You want more, baby?” Taehyung asks.

You hum again, your voice muffled and hoarse.

“Okay,” he sighs. “Only because you’ve been so good.”

You have no time to brace yourself from the sudden impact of feelings. He doesn’t do much except for push himself into you, past your folds. It’s only just the tip and yet your heart jolts in your chest, the coil in your stomach tightens. It feels so good to finally have something of larger girth in you that you gap, simultaneously sinking down further onto Jungkook. The two boys grunt above you, both of them panting hard.

“You feel so good, baby,” Taehyung mumbles. “Fuck, you’re so wet.”

He leans down to press a kiss against your shoulder, his other hand coming up to rest on the dip of your lower back to guide you. He slowly, so very slowly, pushes himself into you, inch by inch, so you can feel the way he stretches you open, feel the way he buries into you. Your leaking arousal only proves to be of an advantage, letting him easily push into you without any trouble. Your fingers grip the bed sheets beneath you in an ironclad grip and you squeak when he’s finally buried hilt deep within you. You nearly gag around Jungkook again, who’s still panting and writhing above you, but the way Taehyung’s tongue marks patterns into your shoulder comforts you. You whine against Jungkook, pushing your hips back for more and the simplicity of your action has Taehyung’s breath hitching in his throat.

“So warm,” he grunts and then sighs against your back. “You always feel so amazing.”

He still hasn’t moved and you’re beginning to grow impatient, distraught over the feeling of him rock hard inside you but unmoving. You debate pulling apart from Jungkook to yell at Taehyung but you assume he can understand your haste judging by the way your body writhes beneath him, your fingers clench into fists. He pulls out in one languid movement, his breath stuttering, until only his tip is left before he pushes himself back in, equally as slow. He sets at a steady, easy pace that, at the very least, lets you grasp onto some sensible thoughts and pushes you to keep pleasing Jungkook. Jungkook can’t take it anymore; he starts rutting his hips up into your mouth with gritted teeth. It’s a hot, erotic mess of mingled moans and groans but you never want it to stop ━ in fact, you want more.

“You like that, baby?” Taehyung grunts.

You nod hurriedly, humming in response.

“Ah, fuck━” Taehyung groans. “Want it harder?”

You nod once more, this time eagerly. When Taehyung pulls back one more time, he slams himself back into you without any warning and you jerk forward, sinking down onto Jungkook. The younger boy moans, his head lolling back as his fingers twisting in your hair. You don’t expect Taehyung to do the same thing again, pull out slowly and then push himself back in with more force, but he does, and he repeats the action again and again until he abandons it for a whole new pace. Soon, he’s thrusting into you hard and fast but always making sure his hips reconnect with yours before pulling out so you can feel him practically in your throat.

“Like being fucked like this?” Taehyung asks. “You like being used like a little slut?”

His thrusts are relentless suddenly, jerking your body and back and forth until he’s fucking you in a way that has you sucking off Jungkook just right so that you hardly have to put in any effort. Although his hard thrusts feel amazing, each time you’re pushed forward, you sink further down onto Jungkook unwillingly and that, paired with the way Jungkook frantically fucks himself into your mouth, you nearly gag each time as he hits the back of your throat, drool pooling at your lips and dribbling down your chin. Tears prick at your eyes from the feeling and it’s too pleasing to quit, to pull away from Jungkook just yet. Jungkook’s staring down at you when he notices your scrunched up face. You’re surprised when his hand finds your cheek, his thumb brushing reassuringly into your cheekbone.

“You’re doing so━ ah, fuck━ so well, baby,” he rasps.

You can taste the saltiness of precum on the tip of your tongue and you wonder how close he is. You have no qualms in finishing him off then and there but soon the pleasure you’re receiving from Taehyung becomes too much. Soon, he’s hitting you at an angle that shakes something in you. You pull apart from Jungkook with a loud pop, saliva and cum coating his length and your lips, and a gasp wretches from your throat.

“Fuck!” You cry hoarsely. “Ah, T-Taehyung!”

You’re too weak to push yourself up and end up burying your head in Jungkook’s lower abdomen, feeling the heat consume you. You’re near numb, senseless, as you let Taehyung ravish your body, fuck you hard into the mattress and Jungkook. It’s a frantic build up, an intense wave of emotions that you seem to pass through, and you can hardly bring yourself to react. All you can hear is the sound of moaning and skin against skin and the heat seems to make its way up to your head, making you warm and fuzzy. Jungkook gently pulls at your face, lifting you up and bringing you to him so that he can smash his lips onto yours and all you can taste is bitter liquor, you, and him, but that doesn’t stop him from sucking on your lower lip even when you pull apart to moan and gasp.

“T-Tae,” You sob. “Fuck, Tae, I━I’m c━close━”

“Cum for me, baby girl,” he murmurs. “Let me hear you.”

You shake your head frantically at the sensitive sting between your legs still raw from your orgasm from Jungkook, shutting your eyes. Taehyung’s hands find their way onto your hips and he pulls you down his length until you’re balls deep and pauses. He lifts your hips and you can feel him twitch inside you that it even makes your own thighs tremble and shake. You’re sure you’ll collapse on him if he doesn’t hold onto you and he must realize this too because he grips your hips tight to continue thrusting into you. Soon you’re tumbling towards your high. Taehyung’s pumps are frantic, growing sloppy with each passing second, as he pushes you to yours and his high. The coil snaps in your stomach again and you’re in a moment of freefall where you’re stunned by the wave of pleasure. Then, Taehyung is bringing you back down to reality with his hard thrusts, the way he moans, and the lewd wet sounds of him pumping himself into you.

“Ah, T-Tae━” You whimper. “So good, fuck━”

His name falls from your lips in a repeated mantra. You crumble beneath him, collapsing entirely against Jungkook, who’s brushing your hair away from your face. You’re shaking with each touch, your walls pulsing around Taehyung and clenching hard. He moans and curses behind you and you know he must be close to his high because he, too, is fumbling for it. His thrusts are even more hasty and soon he’s reaching his climax. His moans increase in volume and his thrusts become sloppier until he finally pulls his cock from your walls and nearly collapses against your back.

With his hand clenched tightly around his shaft, he jerks himself off until he’s releasing onto your back in white hot spurts. He’s panting hard, sweat coating his forehead, but he takes the time to press chaste kisses along your back and shoulders as the two of you attempt to calm your shrill hearts. It’s silent in the room for a moment despite your panting breaths. Taehyung takes a moment to grab his discarded shirt and wipe at the mess he’s made before he collapses next to you at long last with a huff of air. You moan wearily, rolling off of Jungkook to lay on your back between the two.

“God, you’re amazing,” Taehyung sighs.

You giggle up at the boy and lean towards him to kiss. His fingers rake in your hair and a few silent seconds pass before you’re nearly back to an even breathing pace. That’s when you notice Jungkook, his hand gripped tightly around his still painfully hard dick.

“Jungkook,” You pur his name, catching his attention. “What are you doing?”

“What does it look like?” he quips.

“It’s your turn,” Taehyung points out. Jungkook glances at Taehyung and then down at you, quirking an eyebrow.

“W-Well, I just thought━” Jungkook stammers. “I just thought you’ve had enough. It’s okay, you don’t have to.”

“I call bullshit again,” You scoff.

“Baby girl,” Taehyung hums, “do you want Jungkookie to fuck you?”

You nod eagerly but Jungkook doesn’t seem too convinced, or maybe he’s hesitant. Taehyung’s eyeing him closely, curiously, before he gaps. He bursts out into a fit of chuckles, earning both yours and Jungkook’s attention.

“Shit, of course,” Taehyung grins. “He’s probably gonna let go the minute he’s in you. You’re close, hm?”

“Only because she’s already been down on me,” Jungkook grumbles.

“You know that’s not it,” Taehyung replies. “You’ve been wanting this forever.”

Jungkook’s eyes suddenly darken as he glares at the older boy. “Taehyung.”

“Wait, what?” You ask, turning to gawk at both.

“Jungkook has a little crush on you,” Taehyung smirks. “This is all he’s ever wanted. I bet he’ll bust a nut the second he fucks you and he’s embarrassed.”

You gasp as you turn to face Jungkook who looks entirely disgruntled but you’re more shocked about the fact that Jungkook likes you than anything else. Jungkook, notoriously arrogant fuckboy, who’s seemingly made it his mission to give you a headache every waking moment by trying to flirt with you. And maybe you’ve always sort of known it; maybe you’ve always sort of felt the same.

“That’s not true!” Jungkook protests. “I━I━ Well, Tae hardly finishes when he’s with another girl. He’s jacked off to the thought of you before, too━”

Taehyung starts. “Fuck off━”

You’re stuck between the bickering boys, staring up at both of them with a dumbfounded expression. Before either boy can strangle the other, you’re speaking up and interrupting them.

“I don’t mind,” You say. “I’m just… surprised.”

Both boys are silent now, aggravated probably, and you giggle. You reach up to rake your fingers in Taehyung’s hair and then look up at Jungkook, using your other hand to grab onto his chin once more and force him to face you.

“Come here, you idiot,” You drawl. “I want you to fuck me. Wanna feel your dick.”

Jungkook seems taken aback but then his eyes are sweeping down your body and he writhes in his seat. Before he can protest, you’re pulling him down onto you to kiss. It’s passionate and rough but hot altogether as your lips smack against one anothers. Jungkook’s desperate situation seems to hit him again, especially when you snake one of your hands down to his length and wrap your fingers around him to jerk him off. He pulls apart from you, gulping.

“Fuck, okay, okay,” he gasps. “I need to be in you right now, please.”

You and Taehyung smirk as Jungkook shifts around on the bed to kneel between your legs. He pauses, glancing up at you once more and noting the way you bite your lower lip seductively, before finally pushing himself in. He goes slow, but not as gradual as Taehyung. You can still feel him stretching you open and he groans. He seems to slide the rest of the way in with a lewd squelch sound because of just how wet you are and then he’s buried balls deep, fitting so snug within you.

“Holy shit,” he whines. “You weren’t kidding, Tae. She feels amazing.”

Taehyung hums in agreement. “What does she feel like? Let her know, Kookie.”

Jungkook squeezes his eyes shut momentarily to focus. “Wet,” he hisses through gritted teeth. “Warm, tight ━ fuck, so tight.”

He marvels at the feeling, wonders how you can still clench so tightly around him despite being stretched wide by Taehyung. He bows his head to rest in the crook of your neck and moans. His words are enough to spur on your own reaction and you whimper against him.

“Oh, fuck, Jungkook━”

The sensitivity you feel in your core met with his hard cock makes you cringe but simultaneously pleases you and you’re bucking your hips for more. He groans at the feeling, his hands flying down to grip your hips. He’s big, stretching you wide, but you feel anything but pain except for the sharp burning sensation as the intensity of your past orgasms start to hit you. He rolls his hips back and then thrusts into you so hard that you yelp and jerk back on the bed.

“Go easy on her, Jungkook,” Taehyung admonishes. “She’s not a doll.”

“I’m sorry,” Jungkook sighs, nipping at your throat. “You just feel so good, Y/N.”

“I’m okay,” You reassure. You feel his length twitch within you and your head lolls back. “Fuck, I feel more than okay.”

“Can we try something?” Taehyung asks.

He receives two weak nods in response. Jungkook pauses, shifts the two of you until he’s on his back and you’re straddling his hips, his dick never once slipping from your core. The older boy grabs onto you and yanks you onto his hips.

“What do you say we give Y/N the pleasure she deserves?” he asks. He pushes his length past your folds and is rewarded by the sound of your moans as your jaw unhinges. “Think you can handle both of us, baby?”

“Fuck, yes,” You gasp.

Jungkook seems just as enticed by this. He’s careful as he pushes his cock into you and your reaction is explosive. With Taehyung already stretching you wide, you wonder how Jungkook will fit but it’s snug and perfect. You can feel him stretching you further, inch by glorious inch, and he hasn’t even begun moving when your walls clench around the two of them. Taehyung hisses in your ear and Jungkook pauses at once, sputtering for air, giving you time to adjust. When Jungkook pushes himself further into your cunt, rubbing against Taehyung’s cock and your own walls, you can’t help the delicious moan that falls from your lips.

“Oh my god,” You whimper. “Fuck, fuck, that feels so fucking good━”

It’s such a sticky, hot mess, and all you can hear is the sound of guttural moans and grunts. You jut your hips forward, a silent plea for something more. Jungkook’s hand grasps at your ass and then he’s pulling out. He growls suddenly, thrusting his hips forward and the sensation suddenly overwhelms you. As he picks up a pace that leaves you breathless, Taehyung slowly thrusts into you and the pleasure becomes too much. Your hands reach out to grab at anything, fingers digging eagerly into Jungkook’s chest, Taehyung’s sides.

“Oh, fuck,” Jungkook grunts. His face is scrunched in pleasure and concentration, his mouth hanging open.

“You’re doing so well, baby,” Taehyung growls. “You like being stretched wide like this, huh? Such a good girl too. Fuck━”

He’s sweating, but so are you, and all you can hear is the sound of yours and the boys’ moans, the vulgar wet slap with each thrust Jungkook makes. It’s only amplified with each small leisurely thrust Taehyung makes into your throbbing pussy, his dick rubbing against Jungkook’s with each thrust. Your walls tighten around Jungkook and Taehyung as the seconds pass and you know you’re already close to your third orgasm of the night but you try to hold off despite the room spinning. All you can do is lay there for Jungkook to ravish and control, for Taehyung to enjoy, too caught up in the moment. Your breasts bounce wildly with each thrust Jungkook makes and his gaze seems fixated on your chest before flickering down to watch himself disappear inside you each time. Taehyung is raking his fingers through your hair, soothing you through your next climax and it’s close.

“Fuck,” Jungkook hisses, panting hard. “I’m not gonna last.”

You push your hips forward as if to probe him on and he growls.

“No, shit, let me enjoy this, baby,” he whines. “Ah, so tight━”

He’s grumbling to himself, cursing under his breath and you smirk tiredly. Jungkook leans his head down to kiss at your chest, catching one of your nipples in his warm mouth. His tongue swishes back and forth over the perked bud and your chest arches into his face. Your fingers are clutching tight at his hair even as he obeys and adds more force with each thrust, slowly picking up his pace. His mouth widens and he sinks lower on your breast, humming against you in pleasure. Taehyung’s own pace quickens. It’s not as relentless as Jungkook’s but he makes sure to help aid you to your high, ramming his hips into yours until both their cocks slip into a seamless pattern. All you can focus on is the crude wetness, the way their dicks threaten to slip from your hold at how sloppy and wrecked your cunt becomes.

“Ah, yes,” You hiss. “Fuck, yes, yes━ So good, oh my god━ Right there━”

Your voice is cut off by a loud moan. You feel the familiar wave hit you once more and this time you hardly have any strength to fight it off or welcome it.

“I can’t━” You wail suddenly. “Fuck, I can’t━ I’m gonna cum━”

You’re fumbling for words to warn him that you’re close before you’re cuming around them. Their names wrench from your throat in no discernible pattern, accompanied by vulgar curses. Your body writhes between the two boys, your chest arching into his mouth, your legs tightening around Jungkook’s waist.

“You’re doing so well, baby,” Jungkook coos. “Come on, wanna feel you cream all over us━”

Stars form behind your eyelids and explode into galaxies as they swirl down your spine and to the tip of your toes, making them and your fingers curl in delight. Your vision grows blurry and tears stream down your face at the build up of pressure finally being released for the third time and you can’t help it when your mantra turns into delighted sobs and whimpers. You’re clenched so tight that Jungkook feels as if he hardly has any space to move and the confinement of his length has him gasping. He pulls apart from your breast to watch your scrunched up face with hooded eyes. He moans again, and desperately leans down to suck at your jawline.

You’re too spent to keep up with him or Taehyung as he helps you further to your high but you know Jungkook is close when his thrusts become messy, quick spurts. You gasp each time he thrusts up into you until he’s finally cuming.

“Shit,” he hisses. “Gonna cum━ Gonna let us fill you up, baby?”

“Please, please, wanna feel it,” You mewl.

He slams his hips into yours and stills for a moment as he releases into you in one hot wave and emits a beautiful moan of your name. You’re panting hard even as he rides out both your highs with a few more incredibly sloppy pumps before he finally collapses against your chest. The two of you are struggling to catch your breaths, your heart beating in your ears.

The room is silent, blissful, and it takes you a few moments of basking in it before you’ve regained your breath. Your fingers rake in Jungkook’s soft and sweaty hair and you hum in content. His mouth presses a few open mouthed and hot kisses along your neck and jawline before connecting with your own mouth. This time, the kiss is chaste and you smile against his lips before he’s pulling out of you. You moan at the missing feeling of his warmth and the way his own cum leaks from your core, down Taehyung’s cock, and your own thighs.

But Taehyung isn’t done. He thrusts up into you to ride out his own high, pushing Jungkook’s release back into you. His pace is steady, deep, and all you can both do is moan and gasp for air.

“Fuck, Tae,” You rasp tiredly. “Cum for me, baby.”

The boy gasps for air, nearly fumbling behind you to reach his high. “Gonna make this pussy mine. Fuuck━”

When Taehyung finally reaches his own high, it’s in another sticky stream of hot cum, each fluid mingling with the other in a pitiful mess. He pulls his slackened length from you and you whimper at sudden the loss, core and legs aching. As you slide onto the bed between the two tired and breathless boys, Jungkook wipes at your glistening core with a shirt and you sigh in content.

“Why haven’t we done that before?” You gasp, earning a chuckle from both. Jungkook lets out a boisterous laugh and you flick his arm. “If you say anything dumb, we’re never having a round two.”

“Round two?” he asks, wriggling his brows. “You want this to happen again?”

You nod, though you can already start to feel yourself succumb to sleep as it creeps upon you. “What do you think, Tae?”

“I think,” The older boy hums, “that’s your best idea yet.”

Jungkook seems surprised, excited even, and you smile sleepily. Taehyung throws his arm over your waist and pulls your back to his chest, wrapping you in his arms as he slips off to sleep. 

Before you fall asleep that night, you snake your arm up Jungkook’s chest and let your hand rest against his beating heart which you can still feel beating shrilly even long after your messy night together.

You awake to the familiar sound of your alarm.

It’s loud, annoying, and jolts you awake only to toss you into a haze of muddled confusion and an incredibly terrible hangover. Your head throbs and your body aches. Sunlight splashes in from the closed blinds and illuminates your face, making you squint.

“Turn that off, Jesus Christ, Y/N,” Taehyung snaps, his voice muffled and aggravated.

Your mind is too groggy to realize he’s sleeping next to you, too groggy to suddenly remember what happened the night before. Until, of course, you feel your limbs tangled with not only Taehyung’s but another’s. When you crane your neck to look, you see Jeon Jungkook splayed out beside you sleeping peacefully and you gasp.

The events of the night before suddenly flood your mind and everything is hazy up until your wild time with the two boys. Your muddled sober mind alerts your heart and suddenly it’s beating hard and fast in your chest as you register the situation. You’re used to waking up with a naked Taehyung by your side but never were you used to waking up next to a naked Taehyung and Jungkook.

Jungkook stirs in his sleep then and you curse silently, diving for your phone on the floor before realizing your drastic mistake. Your core is still tender and your legs feel so delicate, nearly caving in beneath you as you wobble precariously. Somehow, you manage to grab your phone and tap the snooze button hastily. Taehyung’s still half asleep on his side but Jungkook lays on his back and you’re surprised to see him looking up at you with a quirked eyebrow and a tiny smirk.

“Don’t you dare say anything,” You hiss. “Holy shit, that wasn’t a dream?”

You gnaw on your lower lip and reach down blindly to grab the nearest article of clothing on the floor (one of Taehyung’s shirts) to toss over your bare body. To soothe your aching muscles, you resort to kneeling on the edge of the bed.

“It wasn’t,” Taehyung murmurs.

“Nice to know you think our dicks are dream worthy though,” Jungkook snorts. “So when’s our round two?”

Your promise from the night before dawns on you all too suddenly and, though you feign your usual annoyance for both boys, the potential prospect of another night with the two of them thrills you to no end.  

“I━ I━” You stammer.

“Come back here, baby,” Taehyung muses. “It’s too early to be up right now. You can sleep a bit longer before you pretend you hate the both of us.”

Your eyes flicker down to your phone to check the time: 6 a.m. You can barely walk, let alone function this early in the morning, even without the added stress of your hangover, and sleep seems far too appealing to ignore. Maybe you can stay for a few more hours…

“Fine,” You grumble. You crawl back between them and wiggle around until you’re laying back on the bed. “But you’re making me that cup of coffee when I wake up, Taehyung.”

“Anything else, princess?” Taehyung grins.

“Maybe run me a bath too,” You wince as you settle back against the bed. “Everything hurts.”

“Will do,” Jungkook says. “Gotta do the most to make sure we get that second round. Now, come here━”

The boys snicker and, soon, the three of you have slipped back into a peaceful slumber.

You know that when you wake you’ll profusely deny that the night before and the morning after had ever happened; that you’ll never again find yourself in either Jungkook’s or Taehyung’s bed, much less with the both of them at the same time ━ but you find that you never really listen much to rules anyway.

⟶ All rights reserved to © jungkxook. I do not allow reposting, translating, or any sort of modifying and reuploading of my work.

⟶ Feedback is always appreciated!

#btsbookclub #bangtanhq #btsguild #jungkook smut #taehyung smut #jungkook #taehyung #bts smut #btscreatorscorner #jungkook x reader #taehyung x reader #jungkook x you #taehyung x you #jungkook x y/n #taehyung x y/n #bts #bts scenarios #jungkook scenarios #taehyung scenarios #jungkook imagine #jeongguk smut #jeon jeongguk smut #kim taehyung smut #jeon jungkook smut #bangtan smut #bangtan #bts fanfic #bts oneshots

[gatheringbones]

["Meth gave me a boundless energy and a feeling that I could do anything. Take a child of parents with their own substance abuse issues, sprinkle that with gender confusion, and you have a recipe for a speed freak. I was unconsciously numbing the pain for which I had no words. Looking back, I believe I was literally androgynizing my body with meth, which is the ultimate appetite killer, stripping my body of fat and thereby taking my breasts along with it. Plus, with each snort or injection my dopamine skyrocketed to twelve hundred times its normal level. To put this in context, cocaine only raises the user's dopamine by 300 percent. What this means is that I got skinny and felt a thousand times more euphoric and my body began to align with my self image. I got thinner and thinner and my breasts disappeared! My jaw and cheekbones emerged, and I couldn't believe the person I saw looking back at me in the mirror. I saw a man, not the boy of my childhood. And everyone else began to see a man too. I started playing with facial hair at Halloween and began packing a sock on occasion.

That was the cool part. But life on meth was completely destructive and unsustainable. I stayed awake for days at a time in a drug-induced psychosis in order to avoid the real discomfort lurking just below the surface. I studied reincarnation in the wee hours of the night as a way to make sense of the jarring truth: that my fantasy life and body identity were solidly fixed on the male side of this gender system I was working with, but my genitals told another story.

(...) Once back home in Texas, I slowed down just enough to realize I felt like shit. It was 1986, the year that HIV was named HIV, and I knew I needed to get checked out. Remarkably I dodged that bullet; instead I was diagnosed with a dangerous case of Non-A, Non-B Hepatitis, which is now called Hepatitis C. Even after this diagnosis, I had some fits and starts towards sobriety. By then I had been using meth for weight control for years. Getting clean off of speed "gifted" me with eight pounds of breasts. I was miserable. Of course the addict brain wants to turn to something at that point to numb the pain. Alcohol would be a bad choice given the liver is compromised with Hep C. But denial had never let me down, so alcohol it was. Since I had eaten only sporadically over the past five years, the pounds began to add up. With every bra size increase, I felt increasingly miserable in my body. I assumed my misery was related to the weight gain. I wore very tight one-piece gymnastic leotards in an attempt to flatten my chest. This only managed to push them down and take the breast shape away, making me look like my belly was ten times bigger. After much begging, my reluctant mother paid for a partial breast reduction. I went to Dr. Wong at the Rosenberg Clinic. Unbeknownst to me, I had ironically walked into the oldest gender clinic in the south, but my visit left me none the wiser about my identity.

I didn't realize that gender dysphoria was a thing until the mid-1990s, when I moved to Austin and met a queer artist named Venae Rodriguez. Venae had made a short film called Male Identified. As we talked about our childhoods and compared notes, I began to feel like parts of myself, formerly buried, were beginning to emerge. We became closer friends, and the next year we took a trip to San Francisco Pride. At the Dyke March, I met my first out trans man in Dolores Park. He talked about how he had always marched, but now he had to stay back during the march itself. I was taken by the physical transformation, and the power of testosterone. I felt excited to meet someone who identified similarly but had taken another path towards physical transition.

It was around this time that I was finishing my master's in social work. The influence of Venae and the chance meeting with the trans man at the march had left me hungry to know more. I began to learn about transgender communities, trans men, and the whole diverse spectrum of gender identities. I read everything I could find on the subject and plunged to the depths of my psychological pain in therapy. I came out as transgender in my classes at school and found this to be very exciting. I had a name for my experience, and I felt the power that comes with language. I looked around and found no therapy resources for transfolks in Austin, so I decided to learn as much as I could and eventually start a private practice that would serve the community. It was life changing to read Leslie Feinberg's Stone Butch Blues, Roxxie's Dagger: On Butch Women, Riki Anne Wilchin's Read My Lips, and Kate Bornstein's Gender Outlaw. As an emerging caregiver, it was helpful to find True Selves: Understanding Transsexualism— For Families, Friends, Coworkers, and Helping Professionals, and Randi Ettner's Gender Loving Care. I also found the crown jewel for trans men at the time: Body Alchemy: Transsexual Portraits by Loren Cameron. Across town at the University of Texas, Sandy Stone herself handed me a copy of the movie Gendernauts so I could show it to my transmasculine support group."]

CK Combs, from What Am I?, from Non-binary: Memoirs of Gender and Identity, edited by Micah Rajunov and Scott Duane, Columbia University Press, 2019

#ck combs #gender stuff #trans literature #lesbian literature #book recs tag #cw medical #cw self harm #wasteland radio

[babyboibucky]

The Match - Part 5

Pairing: CEO!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: You find yourself in the middle of a predicament.

Word Count: 2.3k

Warnings: SMUT as always, sort of public sex??? Unprotected sexy times, emotional damage lmao

A/N: Buckle up, babies!!! You’re in for a rollercoaster ride for this chapter ajckjasncjak I apologize in advance and please don’t hate me

AND BTW if you guys haven’t seen, I found the perfect playlist for this series lmao I saw the title and I was like HOLD UP this is perfect https://open.spotify.com/playlist/3Eg5ZH6wMq4iocF5fWSesb?si=aff157a6198a4446

The Match Masterlist || MAIN MASTERLIST

Still awake, baby?

Fuck.

You screamed into your pillow upon reading Bucky’s text. It was quarter to midnight and you couldn’t sleep, especially not after Bucky told you that he wanted to make the relationship official.

It’d only been three months and you felt like he was moving too fast. And when he promised that he would find a way to snatch your heart the old-fashioned way? You wanted to explode because obviously, he already did.

But you weren’t going to say that to someone who already had a huge ego (and cock, too).

You composed yourself and typed in your reply, throwing your phone to your side after sending it.

Yeah. Why are you still up tho?

Not even a minute later and your phone began to ring. You sat up on your bed and squeezed your pillow, hating how Bucky had such an effect on you. Jesus, what are you, a high school student?!

You stared at his name on your screen before swiping and accepting the call.

“What’s up?” You answered as calmly as you could.

Bucky’s low chuckle sounded so fucking sexy that you had to bite your lower lip to prevent a moan from escaping.

“Still working. Can’t concentrate though, I keep remembering how you looked like with my cock in your mouth.”

You exhaled through your nose, “Jesus, you’re insatiable.” You said.

“Only for you, baby. You know that.” He said and your heart did a little somersault inside your chest.

“Don’t stay up too late, you have an early meeting tomorrow, right?” You asked, trying to change the topic because if you didn’t, you were sure how things would go.

Bucky let out another chuckle, “Yeah, yeah. I’ll just finish signing some papers and then I’m off to bed.”

You hummed and laid back down on the bed. It was completely silent but it wasn’t awkward. You heard the shuffling of paper on Bucky’s end, followed by the squeaking of a chair.

“You still there?” Bucky asked.

“Mhmm, you done?” You asked back.

“A few more papers left, baby. Can you wait ‘til I finish?”

There was something about talking to Bucky on the phone like this, so casual and so...mundane. It felt natural and comfortable, to think that this was the first phone conversation you had with him. He only sent you texts previously so this was new, but you had to admit, you loved it.

Bucky heard you yawning and let out a soft laugh. He sounded sleepy too when he spoke, “Almost done.” He reassured.

“Let’s have dinner tomorrow.” He added.

“Yeah, okay. As long as it’s not in the same restaurant we went to after my promotion.” You groaned at the memory.

Bucky snorted, “We’re banned there, babe. Even if I wanted to go back there, they wouldn’t allow it.” He said.

“No shit, Sherlock. We got caught in their bathroom, of course they’ll ban us.” You huffed out.

“I was looking forward to dessert, you know.” You pouted.

“I got my dessert though.” You could hear Bucky’s smug smirk through the phone.

“Are you done?” Bucky whispered into your ear as he placed an arm on the back of the booth.

You shivered at his voice and nodded, grabbing your champagne and drinking it in one go.

“I promised you something, didn’t I? That I’ll give you something right before dessert? Meet me in the bathroom in five. Again, don’t be late.”

And with that, Bucky slid out of the booth and adjusted his suit before leaving for the bathroom. You clutched your heart and waved at the waiter who passed by, requesting for a refill and downing it before following Bucky.

You adjusted the black dress that Bucky bought you, you were surprised at how perfect the fit was. The lovely dress though, made you uncomfortable because of its length and the fact that Bucky still had your panties with him was making you feel even more conscious.

You were immediately pulled into the men’s bathroom as soon as you got there. Bucky tugged you into one of the cubicles and wasted no time to bend you over, lifting your skirt up to squeeze your ass.

“I knew I picked the right dress, you look good enough to eat.” Bucky grunted as he unbuckled his belt.

You moaned and pressed your palms against the door, pushing out your ass towards Bucky until you felt him line his tip up to your entrance. In one swift move, Bucky bottomed out and didn’t give you enough time to adjust.

It was fast and violent, the way Bucky fucked you inside that stall. Both of you were too caught up in the pleasure to even hear the commotion happening outside.

“Not gonna last long, Bucky...” you whimpered, feeling your legs tremble.

You’d been on edge the entire time, having been denied your orgasm earlier. And Bucky kept on squeezing your thigh teasingly during dinner, palm always inching higher until it settled close to your bare mound.

Of course, you wouldn’t last long!

“I know, baby.” Bucky said, sucking the skin on your exposed shoulder as he continued to fuck you from behind.

Once done with the sex escapade, the both of you were welcomed by the restaurant’s manager with a disapproving (and scarred) look on his face.

You blushed at the memory, “Let’s not do that again, please?” You said.

Bucky laughed, “Fine, fine. But dinner tomorrow, okay?”

You yawned at the same time you hummed, “Just dinner.”

“Wholesome dinner.” He confirmed. “Alright, I’m done with work. Sleep now, baby.” He cooed and you nodded even though Bucky couldn’t see you.

You heard footsteps and then the sound of the door closing shut.

“Good night, baby.”

“Hmm, good night, Bucky.”

-

To say you were giddy the next day was an understatement. You were on cloud nine after having a phone conversation with Bucky last night. You even greeted Janet the snitch a very good morning when you shared the elevator with her.

You entered your floor and offered everyone a smile, but you also noticed that they seemed to be preoccupied talking to each other.

“What’s up?” You asked Martha and the other girls who were huddled together.

“Haven’t you heard?” She asked. “Sophia shared an elevator ride with Mister Barnes earlier. He called a flower shop, asked for their most expensive bouquet and then went on to make dinner reservations at an elite restaurant!”

You paled at the discovery and cleared your throat, “And that’s a big deal because?”

Martha snickered, “Girl, we’re talking about James Barnes here, a rich and eligible bachelor. It is a big deal. And ugh, I wonder who the lucky lady is! What I’d do to be her.” Martha dreamily said.

“Do you think it’s an employee here? Fuck, I’d be so envious if that girl happens to be working here!” Sophia added.

“Is that even allowed? Sounds pretty scandalous to me.” Kate chimed in.

“Oh my god. Remember the pantry incident that Janet reported? What if that was Mister Barnes and his girl? Damn, that’s juicy. It’d be horrifying if they get caught.” Kate added.

Your head felt light-headed at all the information that was going on. Hearing their conversations felt like a bucket of iced water was being poured on you. It was like a moment of a major realization.

Shit, what has gotten into you, getting all tangled up in this mess? Damn you, Tinder!

Even if Bucky agreed to take things slow, you realized that it wouldn’t really help. If news got out that you were dating the CEO of your company, you’d still receive some backlash for it.

Maybe making it official wasn’t the right thing to do. At least, not yet.

“Ladies, gossip time is over.” You announced and tried to stay calm. “And speaking of Barnes, I need to submit a report.”

-

You nervously knocked on Bucky’s door, hoping that he was back from his early morning meeting. You could hear him talking inside and thought that maybe he was busy.

“Come in.” He called before you could even turn around.

Slowly, you opened the door and slipped inside his office. Bucky was on his chair, talking to someone over the phone. When he saw that it was you, he quickly put his phone on mute and smiled.

“Yes, baby? What do you need?” He asked softly.

Goddammit! Bucky was surely getting used to that pet name. Initially, he’d only call you that in the throes of pleasure. But somehow, Bucky began to use it so casually that it made you nervous. What if he slipped and called you that during a meeting, in front of everyone?

You hated how Bucky was becoming soft and gentle around you, well, except maybe when he was in a certain mood. It was confusing the hell out of you. But you also enjoyed being the only one to witness his soft side.

Was his offer to make things official because he truly liked you or was the fucking that good to make him want to commit all of a sudden?

“I uhh, I think I’ll just come back later if you’re busy.” You stammered.

Bucky held up a finger and then unmuted his phone, “Hey, something important came up. I’ll call you again later.” He said and quickly ended the call before turning to you.

“You know I’m never too busy for you.” He said, his eyes the softest you’d ever seen.

There goes your heart.

“I think...” you trailed, not sure how you were going to say it.

Bucky raised his eyebrows at you, urging for you to continue. You heaved out a deep sigh. Your hands balled into fists at your side as you walked closer to his desk.

“Can we raincheck on the dinner tonight?” You asked.

Bucky frowned, “Why?”

You shrugged, “No reason.”

“Lie to me one more time and I’ll have you on my lap for some spanking.”

How the hell does Bucky do that? Become all sweet and soft and then rough and dominating all of a sudden?!

You squeezed your thighs together because the image of Bucky’s hand landing on your ass was doing things to you. You willed yourself not to give in, you came here for a reason.

“There are rumors about you. Someone heard you making dinner reservations and now everyone’s talking about it. I just...” you paused to check Bucky’s reaction but as usual, you couldn’t read his face.

“Maybe making this official isn’t...the right thing to do.”

Bucky pushed himself up from the chair slowly and stalked towards you. Was he mad? Fuck, you hoped he wasn’t. When he reached you, his hand came up to brush your cheek with his knuckles.

“What do you want then?” He asked.

Shit, you never actually thought about it. What do you want? Keep things casual between you and Bucky? Completely stop whatever it was that was going on between the two of you?

“I don’t know.” You shrugged.

“I like you.” Bucky stated and stepped back. “You’re intelligent and you don’t take shit from anyone, myself included. When you said you wanted to take things slow, I agreed to it. Hence, the flowers and dinner. Now that I’m giving it to you, you still don’t want it.”

Bucky’s livid. He was composed but the way his jaw tensed as he spoke was enough proof that he was mad, really mad. It’s his calm demeanor despite being angry that somehow scared you. The calm before the storm. What the storm was going to be? You didn’t know and honestly, you weren’t sure whether it was something that you even want to find out.

Maybe you were being confusing or indecisive but only because things happened too quickly for you to even properly process it. To think that you addressed your concerns last night, you actually that Bucky understood where your feelings were stemming from. However, it seemed to have gone over his head.

“Bucky, I don’t think you’re getting my point here.” You explained, tucking your hair behind your ear.

“If you heard what your employees have been saying about you and your...girl, you’d understand.” You said and placed your hands on your hips.

Bucky made a face, “Then make me understand. What did you hear?” he asked.

“We already talked about this last night! They’d think that the promotion was given to me because we fucked! That’s going to taint my image for the rest of my life.” You huffed out.

Bucky rubbed his face with his hand as he paced back and forth, “They’re idiots if they think of that. What do you want me to do? Give a detailed presentation why I decided to promote you? Go through your evaluation one by one? He sarcastically said.

“Oh my god, Bucky. You really don’t get it, do you?” You let out a humorless laugh.

He shrugged, “You’re confusing the hell out of me. Just tell me what the hell you want to happen.”

“Maybe I just want keep things professional.” You blurted out in the spur of the moment.

You didn’t mean it. You so didn’t mean it. Fuck. You word vomitted and now you were going to regret it.

Something in Bucky ticked, you saw it. He approached you until he was towering over your frame. It was intimidating to say the least, the way Bucky stared down at you with a blank expression on his face.

“What if I don’t want to?” Bucky asked, his eyes looking down at your lips for a quick second before moving back up to your eyes.

“I wasn’t asking for your permission.” you retorted and you’re not sure why.

Bucky exhaled through his nose and this time, you could read his face. He was fuming.

“I told you, you’re mine.” He said through gritted teeth.

The tension in the air was thick. The close proximity was making you dizzy, Bucky was so close that his scent was invading your senses. His jaw was clenched tightly as he looked down at you with piercing eyes and you were so tempted to just grab his face and kiss him and tell him that you liked him too.

But of course, your pride just had to be in the way.

“You don’t own me, Bucky. I am my own person.”

Another word vomit. You were Bucky’s the moment he laid his hands on you and you liked it.

Bucky inhaled and shrugged, loosening up before taking a step back. “So you want to keep it professional, huh?”

No.

“Yes.”

Bucky nodded, “You’re lying. I know you are. But okay then, professional it is. Let’s see how long you can keep lying to yourself.”

You watched Bucky walk back to his desk, sitting down on his chair with his arms crossed over his wide chest. His face was void of any emotion all of a sudden, he didn’t even look angry anymore and you hated how you couldn’t seem to figure him out.

“Anything else you’d like to discuss?” he asked, the professional tone of his voice sending chills down your spine, but not in a good way.

You slightly nodded, placing a folder on top of his desk before backing away. “It’s this month’s report.”

“Okay. You’re dismissed.” He casually said, grabbing the folder and skimming through your report as if you weren’t standing right in front of him.

You felt a pang of pain hit you right in the heart when he looked up at you questioningly, as if he was wondering why the fuck you still haven’t left his office. At that moment, you wanted to take back all the things you said and just give in to your damn feelings.

But would you really let your career nosedive just to be with Bucky? You weren’t sure if you were ready for that.

You straightened up and maintained a calm demeanor, “That’s all. Thanks, Bucky.”

“That’s Mister Barnes for you.”

-

Everything Bucky Tag List:

@ddowii @jessou893 @stealapizzamyheart @bagelofthelord @mxnt @dontputyourfckingdrinkonmytable @jeeperky @ohladymacbeth @wildflowergubler @supraveng @twinerd14 @buckysmar @bakugouswh0r3 @sweetcoldharmony @wintersfilm @charminivy @amelia-song-pond @iamvalentinaconstanza @mcubqrnes @i’m-squished @tcc-gizmachine @sipsteacasually @prettyintopeerpressure @weloveyasmin @est19xxshit @bloodhon3yx @dressed-in-prada @lizette50 @thatfangirl42 @sunflowerbunny2 @unmagically @okiegirl24 @sugarpunch-princess @enlyume @vvipgotbb @slimeyderp @lyoongx @just-deka @nobody-will @jaziona92 @elisebuitron @dpaccione @suvikamahes98blr @buckybarneshairpullingkink @earthtonav @x-judyjude-x @nani-kenobi @just-here-to-escape-from-reality @belladonnabarnes @iloveangstposts @weenersoldierr @asemistablehundredyearoldman @reidbuck @lizzarooni @girlfriday007 @bonkywobble @lost-in-the-stars03 @its-yasbxtch @whoth3hellisbucky​

The Match Special Tags:

@marvelslag​ @weird-mumbling​ @propertyofpoeandbucky​ @lostinthoughtsandfeelings​ @mostly-marvel-musings​ @squishybabies​ @megzdoodle​ @little-baby-vixen​ @annathesillyfriend​ @xhollycowx​ @sweetkingdomstarlight-blog​ @5-seconds-of-mendes​ @gogolucky13​ @countonthesun​ @iloveshawnieboi​ @learisa​ @borikenlove​​ @scarlet-natasha89​

#bbb writes #the match #bucky barnes #bucky #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky barnes smut #bucky smut #bucky barnes fluff #bucky fluff #sebastian stan

[wishesunderthestars]

Eunoia // Ch. 14

eunoia (noun): beautiful thinking, the possession of a well-balanced mind, which exhibits goodwill and kindness

Pairings: Hybrid! BTS x reader

Summary: You are a world famous director and you have dedicated your life to your job.You have everything you could ever dream of; wealth, recognition, talent, your friends and family. But loneliness ins’t cured by success. So what happens when you somehow rescue seven hybrids? Can they fill the void?

Genre: Angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, eventual smut

Word Count: 15k+

Warnings: Abuse and violence, past sexual abuse, derogetory language, sexual harassment

Masterlist

Chapter 1, Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13

It has been a long time, I know. Thanks for being patient with me. This was supposed to be the last chapter of Yoongi and Hoseok’s part but I just couldn’t fit everything that needed to happen inside or it would turn into a 30k chapter and be even more late, so I divided it into two.

The taglist is now closed.

Four days felt like a much smaller amount of time than when you had first been informed of your break.  When you heard the alarm the morning you had to go back to work, you were tempted to ignore it and cover your head with the sheets. This was strange for two reasons. You always woke up before your alarm and it was impossible for you to fall asleep again after waking up, even when you were exhausted. But your eyes were heavy and sleep was clinging to your bones.

You reached for your phone and turned off the alarm. The hybrids were waiting for you in the kitchen, breakfast already served. You thanked Seokjin, who looked the most awake. Jimin and Jungkook were leaning against each other with their eyes half closed, small yawns escaping them every few minutes. It was a little earlier than the time you usually left but you had to do some work in the company building before you could go to the studios. Hoseok's injuries were much better, you didn't need to check on them twice a day anymore so you avoided going to their room and waking them up.

The fox hybrid had been opening up more and he looked more at ease with his surroundings. After eating dinner with you on the first night of your break, he had timidly asked if they could join you again. His whole face lit up when you told him they would always be welcome. Dinners had turned into lunches too, claiming that way you didn't have to carry the trays to their room every day.

You weren't surprised at how well he got along with Jimin. His heart-shaped smile had even charmed Namjoon. He was fascinated with every little thing and you made use of your break to show him around the house. It could be a little overwhelming, so you stuck to the basics at first. The kitchen, the upstairs living room, the library (where at least one of you could be found most times) and the cinema room. He looked at everything in wonder, his red tail wagging behind him. Yoongi trailed after you, the bored expression on his face slipping at how happy and excited Hoseok was.

The second day of your break Jimin announced that you would all be watching a movie. He would accept no complaints, not that there were any. You made enough popcorn for a whole movie theater while Seokjin and Jungkook made pizza. You strictly forbade them from putting on one of your movies. You were so deeply involved and connected with them you had trouble watching them without overthinking every scene, line and camera angle. Jimin pouted, joined by Jungkook and a more subtle Hoseok. But you didn’t budge. Jimin huffed and selected a comedy with an actor Seokjin liked.

It was the third day of your break and Jimin had dragged you with him to the guest suite, saying he needed his daily cuddles. You were laying together in his bed as you played with his blond strands. His hair was growing longer and he was complaining that it was falling in his eyes but you loved running your hands through it, your fingers getting lost inside. Jimin snuggled into your side, his tail wrapped around your waist.

“You are very affectionate today,” you said. Jimin let out an unsatisfied noise when you stopped massaging his scalp, so you moved your hand upwards, scratching behind his cat ears, eliciting a small moan from him.

“I am always affectionate,” he said, nuzzling against your collarbones. “You’re just not here and you’re tired when you come back.”

You placed a kiss on the crown of his head. “Sorry.” It was your job. You shouldn’t feel guilty. And yet…

Jimin raised his head, your hand falling from his hair to rest on his cheek. “Don’t be. I just wish you were here more. With us. But your job is important.”

“I guess,” you said caressing his cheek, the cat hybrid leaning into your touch. “I’ll try to get some more time off when I go back to work.” It would be difficult but not impossible. There were often breaks for a couple of days in the filming schedule but you usually spent those revising scripts or reviewing the work of the various departments or attending meetings. Many of those things weren’t actually your responsibilities, they weren’t in your contract, you did them because you wanted everything to be perfect. You could take a step back for once and make up for it later.

Jimin leaned against you, purring happily at the prospect of spending more time with you. He had been clinging to you in the past days after your week-long absence. The first night after making up with Jungkook he had slept with him in their room and you’d thought he would sleep there from now on. But the next night you had come out of the shower to find him laying in your bed.

A talk show was playing on the TV, filling the comfortable silence of the room. Jimin whispering your name had you looking away from the screen. “Hoseok is doing better, right?”

“He is. He’s recovering fast. Why are you asking?” you asked, worried that he had noticed something you hadn’t. Hybrids had much more developed senses than humans that could have detected something you had missed.

“He’s nice,” he said, playing with the fake buttons of your shirt. “He looks so happy all the time and he’s so energetic.”

“He is. See? He’s really getting better.” That didn’t seem to satisfy Jimin.

“What if they want to leave now that he’s better?”

You cooed at him, pulling him closer. “Is that what’s brought this on? If they want to leave we can’t stop them. The door is always open if they don’t want to be here anymore. They only came here because Hoseok was injured and he couldn’t go to the hospital.”

“But can they stay?” His eyes were shining as he looked up at you. “Please.”

“They can stay for as long as they want. But I can’t force them to stay.”

Jimin didn’t say anything more, hiding into your side. Last night at dinner, Jimin had been quiet and withdrawn, glancing at Yoongi every few minutes. There was history between them, one that ran deep and cut just as hard. From little clues and pieces and what Jimin himself had told you, you had pieced together an image of Jimin’s past but you had trouble finding where exactly Yoongi fit.

You hadn’t forgotten Jimin’s words in your office the day you had invited the two hybrids in your house. Yoongi once belonged to the same man Jimin did. They had done something to him and Jimin had been left to the adoption center he had escaped from. Yoongi had been left somewhere else, you guessed a less savory place. But you couldn’t figure out what they could have done to be kicked out. Something Jimin still felt guilty about. Betrayal was a strong and sticky word and it was hard to associate it with sweet Jimin, even when that man deserved that and more.

Yoongi was a mystery surrounded by several brick walls. Only a wrecking ball could break them down. You were the kind of person to knock on a wall and wait for it to crumble by itself when it came to people. At work, if the only way to get through an obstacle was a wrecking ball, you would bring a wrecking ball.

Surprises weren’t uncommon for you (see: Virginia earthquake), you had learnt to face them head on and control the consequences. But that hadn’t prepared you for the string of surprises during your break and the days after that.

The first surprise came with how well Hoseok was getting along with the other hybrids. His endearing excitement about anything and everything didn’t fail to amuse them. He would curl up on the grass, bathing in sunlight, often joined by Jimin who had developed the same habit when spring first arrived. He was curious about everything, asking question after question with his red fluffy tail wagging behind him like an overexcited puppy. All of you couldn’t help but humor him and try to answer his questions to the best of your abilities.

The second surprise shocked you more than the first. It was the third night the two hybrids were eating dinner with you in the backyard. Yoongi usually didn’t talk, opting to focus on his food while observing the progression of the meal. Thus when he spoke, everyone fell silent. He didn’t say much, it only took him a couple of seconds to compliment Jin’s cooking then become quiet again. Jin stuttered through his thanks, flustered at the unexpected compliment. The panther hybrid didn’t talk again for the rest of the meal.

The third surprise was seeing Yoongi and Jimin sitting next to each other, sometimes in silence and sometimes talking. Being pulled to each other like a moth to the flame. It made Hoseok all too happy to spend time with both of them.

The fourth surprise came in the form of a text from a contact you hadn’t interacted with since Christmas. You laid back on your bed, staring at the paragraphs-long text and forgetting about anything else. You stared and stared as if the letters would rearrange themselves, or better yet disappear if you stared long enough.

You didn’t notice how much time you had spent there unmoving until there was a knock on the door.

“Open,” you called.

The door was pushed open and Namjoon walked into the room, his gray hair falling in his face. In the mornings he looked younger. “Breakfast is ready.”

“Yeah,” you said, not moving. They never had to call you for breakfast. Your schedules had become so in sync you arrived for breakfast the moment it was ready or a few minutes early.

“What happened?” Namjoon asked. He approached, sitting down next to you on the bed.

“Nothing happened, I guess. It’s an invitation.” The text had been sent late last night but you had missed it, leaving your phone to charge upon coming back home and not looking at it again. “It’s from my parents. For a gala.”

“Your parents?” The surprise was evident in his face. You didn’t talk much about your parents, those were conversations you didn’t tend to enjoy. Your parents were a topic you weren’t well-versed in and your lack of confidence was irritating.

You looked at the text again, black letters surrounded by gray. “They invited me to a fashion gala. They would really appreciate it if I could attend.” Reading the text again, you wondered if your mother had asked someone else to write it before deeming it persuasive enough to send. “It’s held in Beverly Hills.”

“When?” Namjoon asked.

“Saturday. In less than a week.” It was Tuesday.

Namjoon glanced at your phone. “Do you want to go?”

The answer was more complicated than you would have liked. You didn’t feel like buying a new gown (god forbid if you wore a dress you had worn before at such an event), having your makeup and hair done and plastering a smile on your face while exchanging pleasantries with people you didn’t know for the whole night. But it wasn’t that easy. You hadn’t attended the Christmas event your mother had organized, using work as an excuse, not feeling like showing up at an event in the mindset you had fallen into. Although she didn’t show it, your mother had been offended.

You couldn’t skip another event.

You threw an arm over your eyes, groaning. “I can’t not go. My mother organized the gala, it will look bad if I’m not there.”

“I could come with you,” Namjoon offered.

It would be nice having someone there with you. Namjoon had a way of calming you down and settling your worries but actually remembering those galas made you change your mind. The rich and mighty loved showing off their wealth and power and hybrids were part of that allure. You wouldn’t subject Namjoon to that. You weren’t sure how he would react. You didn’t want to subject him to your parents’ scrutiny either.

“It would be better if I went alone,” you said. Namjoon threaded his fingers with yours in understanding. He pulled on your hand until you were sitting up on the bed, facing him.

“If you don’t want to go, you shouldn’t.”

Only that it wasn’t so simple. Or it was just your human nature making this overcomplicated.

“My mother will be really disappointed if I don’t go. I didn’t go to her last event, either. It will look bad if I don’t go to this one too.” Namjoon squeezed your hand, urging you to continue. “I’m just tired of them. Galas, events, they are all the same and not in a good way. Sure, there are some people worth talking too. I’ve had some great conversations there, but those are far and few in between. Most people are just trying to outshine the one next to them. And my mother only wants me there to complete the picture.”

The powerful and influential couple with their successful daughter. It was an image that haunted you. Most times you tried to ignore it because it wasn’t fair of you to judge your parents like that. They never made you attend those events, they didn’t get angry when you couldn’t make it. But it left a sour taste in your mouth when those events were the only times you saw them anymore.

“You don’t have to be alone there.” Namjoon brought your hand to his lips, placing a soft kiss in the middle of your palm. “I’m always here if you change your mind. It would feel better if you weren’t alone.”

“It isn’t that I don’t want you there. I do,” you said. “But that isn’t a world you want to be a part of, it isn’t really my world either. There, hybrids are just expensive accessories and I don’t want people to look at you like that. Like you are something to be had.”

Namjoon’s eyes were soft on you as he cupped your cheek with the hand that wasn’t holding yours. “That’s how most people look at us. It isn’t something new. You don’t have to worry about me, I’m used to it.”

“But it isn’t right.” You sounded like a five-year-old complaining that the world wasn’t fair because her parents didn’t buy her ice cream but you couldn’t help it. “And it isn’t just the other people, the guests. I’m not sure about my parents either. They don’t know I’ve adopted you. Actually, they don’t know about anything that has happened in my life this year.”

“I understand if you don’t want them to know about us.”

“It isn’t that,” you said. “Not exactly. I don’t want them involved in my business and judging my choices. They- They are my parents and I guess they care about me in their own way but I won’t be able to stay calm if they look at you like they are estimating your price tag.”

Namjoon leaned closer, bringing your foreheads together. You closed your eyes, surrounded by his warmth. “All I care about is for you to feel comfortable and if my presence there will make things worse then I won’t come with you. But if you change your mind, I’ll be right here. Whatever you want, I’m here.”

You tilted your head, waiting for his lips to touch yours. You shared a sweet kiss before there was another knock at the door.

“Namjoon! Did you wake her up?” Seokjin shouted from the other side of the door. “The breakfast is getting cold! I woke up at the crack of dawn to make it!”

You giggled as you separated.

“Let’s go before he decides we don’t deserve food,” Namjoon said.

♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩

 You had to readjust your schedule for the gala. There were many things you had to do in the five days leading up to it. Your mother was so pleased you accepted the invitation she called you the very next day to tell you how happy she was you would be attending. She hadn’t organized a fashion gala in years and it meant a lot that you would be there to support her. The gala was all about the importance of fashion and the unique interpretations of old and new big names in the industry. It would be one of the grandest events of the year, even if your mother was as clueless about fashion as she was about your life. She enjoyed watching the glorious parts and giving compliments, but rarely got more involved than that.

She had arranged for you to meet with one of the designers featured at the event. You could choose a dress from his collection that would be showcased at the gala. Your mother reassured you that they would do everything so your dress would be fitted to your exact measurements and ready for you to wear on time. You didn’t complain. It would be otherwise impossible to find a dress of the caliber your mother expected in such a short time.

The designer came to your house himself with his assistants. He was a nice young man with a tilted accent revealing that he wasn’t originally from the United States. You made small talk about the different kinds of art characterizing your jobs. They took your measurements and presented you with a few options the designer had selected for you. Some were more eccentric than others but all of them were beautiful.

After discussing with him and listening to his opinions, you selected a piece with gold and red embroidery and a flowy skirt. He was very pleased with your choice, going on and on about how good it would look on you. You felt fluttered at how excited he was for you to wear his design.

You had to meet him again a few days later for the first fitting. He offered to come to your house again but it would be easier for the alterations to be at his studio, where all of his tools were.

Jimin had seen the opportunity to spend more time with you and put on his most convincing puppy eyes asking you to take him with you to the fashion studio. You had no reason to refuse, you wanted to spend more time with him too. Somehow Jimin roped Seokjin into coming with you as well. They waited for you outside until the alterations were done. You couldn’t resist spoiling them while you were out so you took them for waffles. From Seokjin’s stuffed face it was safe to say he enjoyed them.

You had to go back to work after the fitting but Jimin was clinging to you not letting you go, which was how you ended up with the two of them at the final table-reading for the first episode of the Raven Cycle. They both quietly watched the actors delivering their lines. Jimin leaned forward in his seat as he got more and more invested in the scenes, snapping out of it whenever one scene ended and you discussed corrections and suggestions.

The atmosphere was light and friendly. You were professionals and you believed in maintaining a healthy environment of communication and mutual respect that left space for jokes and friendships to develop. The chemistry between the actors was important and you found that when they were friends and had a bond in real life too, it showed.

“Okay, that was great. I liked Ronan’s extra lines, we should keep that in.” The writer next to you wrote it down. “It’s getting late so let’s take a small break for a few minutes and move on to scene fifteen and sixteen and we’re completely done with episode one.” Everyone agreed with you and soon chatter was filling the room. You stretched your arms behind you, your body was complaining after sitting for too many hours.

The snacks and refreshments on the table against the wall were dwindling as the table-reading went on. All the important people in the project were there; the executive producers, the writers, the heads of the various departments and of course all the main actors of the first episode. The room with the large table and the many couches and chairs was large enough for everyone.

Three more days of table reading, which was mainly for revisions, and you would be done, leaving around a week before filming was scheduled to start. Just on time. Despite unfortunate surprises and earthquakes, you were on time. Next week you would be back in the studios standing behind the cameras watching years of work and planning coming to life. The first moments of filming in every movie or TV show whispered to you in silver and gold lines that you couldn’t describe as anything else than magic.

You picked up a bottle of water and a sandwich from the snack table, getting caught up in a short conversation with one of the producers. Your scalp was beginning to hurt from the tight ponytail your hair was trapped in. With a pat on your shoulder, the producer left to find the head of the costume department.

Jimin and Jin were sitting on the smallest couch, away from the table in the middle of the room. Jimin’s ears twitched as you settled on the armrest. You handed him the sandwich.

“For me?”

“You have been looking at it as much as you have been looking at the actors.”

Jimin still didn’t take a bite. “I already ate two.”

“And now you will eat one more.” You nudged the sandwich closer to his face. “They are quite small. I think Will has eaten seven since we started.” You glanced at your assistant, he was talking with two of the actors.

Jimin smiled at you like you were sharing a secret before diving into his sandwich. You opened your water bottle and gulped down half of it in seconds.

“Are you sure you don’t want to go? It’s past eight and it will take at least one more hour to finish the last two scenes and wrap everything up.” You had asked them if they wanted to leave three times since you’d arrived and the answer had been the same each time.

“It’s eight?” Jin asked, pulling out his phone from his pocket. You leaned over Jimin to peek at the screen seeing a few texts from Namjoon and Jungkook and notifications from the various apps Jin used. You had texted Namjoon earlier so he wouldn’t worry that Jin and Jimin hadn’t returned home.

“And it will be at least nine by the time I’m done,” you said.

“We’ve been here for three hours. We can wait for you one more.” Jin opened the messages app reading the texts, a smile appearing on his face.

Jimin had eaten more than half of the sandwich, crumbs sticking at the sides of his mouth. “I want to see what happens at the end. Pretty please?”

“We will wait for you,” Jin said. “We don’t have anything better to do,” he added, to which Jimin agreed enthusiastically. You scratched the cat hybrid's ears while he devoured the rest of the sandwich.

What you hadn’t considered before taking them with you was that the table reading would give away many spoilers for the show. Spoilers were the bane of your existence. Not everyone minded them but you disliked them with passion. You had almost strangled Zayn when he had told you a spoiler he had seen on Twitter for the ending of Avengers: Infinity War,  minutes before the movie started. Zayn had been very lucky the lights hadn’t gone out yet. The suspense was one of your favorite parts and that was ruined for you when you knew what would happen.

At least it was the first episode but there was a lot of discussion on how certain parts or pieces of dialogue would connect with later episodes. The fact that it was an adaptation also changed things. You had been adamant about staying true to the original story and keeping in as many scenes from the book as you could. Your additions revolved around character development, the relationships between the characters, and some conflicts that hadn’t been in the book but you had discussed in length with Maggie. In this case, you didn’t know exactly how to define spoilers.

As expected, you finished the table reading twenty minutes past nine. Gathering all your folders from the table, the scripts, and various notes from the writers and producers, you hid them all away in your backpack. Henrietta and the magical forest were coming to life from their voices alone. You could already imagine how captivating it would be on screen.

Jimin was laying his head on Jin’s shoulder with his arm wrapped around the older’s waist. It had taken some time for them to relax in the room full of strangers, some of who hadn’t been subtle about staring. One look from you and their gazes had darted away. It still wasn’t common to have a hybrid, much less three, but you didn’t care how curious they were if they were making Jimin and Jin uncomfortable.

During the first break, early at the table reading, you had been roped into a debate about a possible change in one of the scenes. The two hybrids had kept to themselves, staying quiet and watching. The actress playing Blue had walked up to them with a wide smile and introduced herself. The remaining tension in them was released when she struck up a conversation with them.

“Time to get going,” you said. Jimin looked up at you, blinking drowsily. “Should I tell John to carry you to the car?”

“We’re leaving?” he asked, rubbing at his eyes.

“Thankfully yes so you need to get up.” You had wrapped everything up, saying goodbye to everyone and you were ready to go.

Jin kissed Jimin’s blond curls. “Let’s go and get you into an actual bed.” He got up and pulled Jimin with him, the younger hybrid was clinging to his back like a koala from the hallway where you met up with John to the parking lot.

In the car, you looked at them through the rear-view mirror. Jimin’s eyes were closed, laying his head on Jin’s shoulder.

“Hard day?” John asked, moving the gear shift to the left and then up.

“I’m a little afraid that my scenario might be a little boring,” you said glancing behind you. “It’s too early for him to be falling asleep.”

The car started moving, leaving the dimly lit parking lot behind. “He’s not used to being out for that long,” Jin said smoothing down Jimin’s hair with care. Jin cared for you with everything he had, you tried to do the same but it was close to impossible with how busy you were.

“If it’s my scenario though, I need to rewrite that thing from beginning to end.”

John chuckled. “Good luck telling that to the writers and the producers. They’ll love it.”

They’d love it as much as cats loved swimming.

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 You took the day of the gala off. If you went to the gala tired after work, you wouldn’t be able to put a smile on your face and keep it there. It wasn’t so much that the galas were awful but that you felt out of place in them. Your mother had many connections and she would invite the “best” of her world. Some faces had become familiar, a steady fixture in your mother’s guest lists. Some faces you should be able to recognize but you didn’t, resulting in interactions based on pretending.

At the after-parties of award shows and premieres, you were more at ease. The designer dresses and suits were the same, worn by rich and influential people, but it was people you knew and respected. Your skin wasn’t prickling at the tension, lost somewhere between remembering a name or a company and ignoring the jabs at other guests or the rumors spreading like vines.

The last event you had attended was in New York last September, it had been the event of the year according to your mother. Jacob had accompanied you, hugging your mother and shaking hands with your father. He had stayed next to you from the moment you stepped into the place to the moment you got into the car to leave. You had to somewhat agree with your mother. A lot of interesting people were in attendance, famous writers and journalists, and you succeeded in ignoring the less favorable situations.

Your parents had changed a lot, or maybe it was just the circumstances that had changed and the different perspective you had as an adult. You used to cast them as the absentee parents, an overused trope you didn't find much merit in. It was too simple, too straightforward. They didn't disappear from one day to the next, cutting all contact with you. It was more like the times they were there grew fewer and fewer until they had moved permanently to New York by the time you were eight. Your father had been offered a position he couldn't refuse and your mother loved him too much to leave him alone there. She tried, she tried to stay for you but she had been trying to find a reason to leave your hometown since she was a teenager. The penthouses and neat offices fit her far better than the beaches and town squares ever did.

It started as a few weeks at first. Your father would be staying in the city for some meetings and your mother wanted to join him. His job involved a lot of traveling and in most of your memories, he was holding a suitcase. A few weeks turned into a month the next time, then into a few months you had to stay with your aunt and your cousins. After you turned eight, they were coming back only for a few weeks every year.

When you were ten you stopped answering their calls and refused to talk to them. Your mother still tried, even traveled back to be with you. Instead of staying at your house with her, you stayed with your aunt. Your mother left defeated. It took a year for you to speak to them again. Childish, but you couldn't blame your past self. The cracks in your relationship with your parents were still there. As an attempt to prevent them from widening and growing, you at least tried to attend the events your mother invited you to.

Another one to add to the list.

"Does the duck look ready to you?" you asked Jin. Roasted duck wasn't a dish you had experience with but that wasn't the only reason you called for Jin. Being home for the day you had offered to help Jin cook lunch. Cooking helped take your mind off, focusing on the recipe and chatting with Jin.

Jin left the lettuce he was washing in the bowl and dried his hands in a towel. His steps were careful and measured, one of his hands holding on the counter.

"It looks good," he said. "You can take it out."

You opened the oven, pulling back last minute so the heat wouldn't burn your face. "It smells incredible! I think I got ten times hungrier just smelling this."

Jin chuckled but it was strained. "I'm too good at this." He was still holding onto the counter.

"You won't catch me complaining."

He went back to the lettuce in the sink, his bangs falling into his face and covering his eyes. You wrapped the chicken breasts in foil and let them rest for a few minutes. The figs were caramelized and the potatoes fried until golden. That was about it for the main dish.

Jin was cutting the lettuce so you occupied yourself with making the salad dressing. You worked in silence. It wasn't for the lack of anything to say but a flinch from Jin earlier, while you had been talking, had you lowering your voice and then closing your mouth when you were finished with that sentence. It was only for a moment before he turned away, but it was enough for you to notice. You had asked him if he was alright twice and both times the answer had been the same. After that, it was clear he wouldn't tell you anything else regardless of how many times you asked.

A thud echoed in the room followed, not a second after, by the sound of metal clattering on wood. The spoon you used to mix the ingredients of the salad dressing stilled in your hand. Jin had fallen to his knees on the floor, holding the counted with one hand and his head with the other. The knife laid abandoned on the cutting board next to the lettuce.

For a moment your surroundings blurred from the surprise before coming into crystal clear focus. You rushed to Jin's side, who was trying to pull himself back up to his feet.

"I'm alright. I slipped," he said.

"You slipped? Seriously?" You had one arm around his waist and it stayed there as he leaned back against the counter. "What's wrong?"

"I'm just a little dizzy," Jin muttered. That close to him, only a breath away, you could see how pale he was, the dark circles under his eyes standing out against the white of his skin.

"You haven't been alright since we started cooking. You aren't just a little dizzy, that's not how someone is when they're a little dizzy."

Jin turned his head to the side, avoiding your gaze. "Let it go, please. Only the salad is left. I'll rest after we eat."

"Jin, that's not..." Clueless about how to continue, you pressed your palm to his forehead. In winter your hands were always freezing cold, it didn't matter if the temperature wasn't that low they would turn into popsicles mere seconds after going outside. Only that it wasn’t winter but spring and your hands were as warm as they could be, that’s why it was that much more concerning that his forehead was warmer than it should be under your touch. “You’re burning up. How are you still standing?”

“It isn’t that bad,” Jin said. He wasn’t looking at you.

“It isn’t that bad?” you repeated in disbelief. “Forget about the salad, I’m taking you to your room.”

You were about to turn around when Jin gripped your elbow weakly. “You don’t need to, really, I can finish up here, it isn’t the first time. I can do it.” The sweat that was gathering on his forehead and his tired eyes told a different story.

“You have been cooking while feeling sick?” you asked. Being out of the house almost all day it wouldn’t have been hard to miss and when you came back at night you weren’t that aware of your surroundings, but the other hybrids would have been able to see past Jin’s pretenses.

“Not here,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

That’s something you should have expected. You had never met his previous owners but you couldn’t stop yourself from hating them for what they had done to him. Hate was too strong of a word but you didn’t have any other name for the burning in your chest whenever you witnessed how insecure and self-conscious Jin had become of them.

You cupped his cheek in your palm turning his head to face you and you rested your forehead against his, your noses bumping. At the touch his shoulders slumped, his back muscles unraveling under your hand. Jin joked that it was weird that his scent glands weren’t in the same places as other hybrids’ but in strange places like his forehead. You couldn’t agree with him because standing there with your foreheads touching it was just as intimate.

The walk to his room was silent. You opened the door for him and watched him hide under the covers, between the countless pillows and stuffed animals. Before leaving, you placed a kiss on his forehead your lips warming up because of his fever. You wanted to stay there with him and with the way he was holding your hand he wanted the same but the lettuce was waiting for you back in the kitchen and there were five hybrids you had to feed.

Finishing up the meal was a matter of minutes. The dressing for the salad had been made and you only had to finish cutting the lettuce and a few fresh tomatoes before mixing everything in a large bowl. You unwrapped the foil from around the duck breasts and arranged them in plates, adding the figs with the pan juices and the fried potatoes. It looked like something you would order at a five-star restaurant, most of Jin’s cooking did.

The mouth-watering aroma must have drifted downstairs because as you were putting the last touches on the plates two sets of feet were running up the staircase. Jimin looked like he had been lured into the kitchen by some magical force, transfixed on the plates on the counter. He sniffed, making tiny happy noises.

“This smells so good. I’m hungry!” he whined.

Jungkook followed behind, taking a look at the plates and turning to you with pleading eyes. “When are we eating?”

You shook your head at their antics. “I just finished up, you can take them down if you want so stop looking at me like that.”

Jimin pouted, his shoulders raising. “Looking at you like what?”

“Stop that, I know what you’re doing.”

Jimin continued on, batting his eyelashes at you. “What am I doing? Am I not doing good?”

You pinched his cheek, making him giggle. “I thought you were hungry but apparently you aren’t hungry enough if you’re still here instead of taking the food down.” At that Jungkook was quick to take out the large trays and fill them with the plates and bowls.

Jimin went to help before pausing. “Where is Jinnie?”

Jin was always in the kitchen before meals, helping the two youngest carry the trays to the backyard. You didn’t want to worry Jimin, he was very sensitive to how others were feeling. His emotional walls were so thin that your blues and grays bled into his yellow. “He’s in his room resting, he’s feeling a little under the weather today.”

“But…How didn’t we notice anything?” Jimin asked.

You patted his shoulder. “I didn’t either until we were cooking lunch. He just needs to rest and he will be better in no time.” Jimin gazed at the food like it could give him the answers he was looking for, you continued. “The duck is his recipe, he only went to his room after the food was ready.” You didn’t mention how he had collapsed while cutting the lettuce, a knife in his hand and way too many grievous possibilities.

Jungkook picked up the nicest plate, you had made it last and having used the previous six ones as practice it had come out looking the best. “Can I take it to him?” It was well-known that he had a soft spot for Jin, sneaking into his room the nights he was running away chased by guilt. Jin had been the only one he had let in then. But again, they all had a soft spot for each other, it may translate differently into actions but it was the same at the core.

You pulled out a smaller bowl from the cupboard. Let me put some salad in this first.” This was one of the only salads everyone liked, even Jimin who was firmly against eating most greens (Namjoon didn’t like them much either but at least he was trying). You filled a glass with water as well and placed it on the smaller tray Jungkook had prepared. “Don’t wake him up if he’s sleeping, he looked really tired.”

“I’ll be quiet,” Jungkook promised picking up the tray and leaving for Jin’s room.

Jimin went back to arranging the plates on the trays. “He’ll be alright soon, right?”

“Of course he will,” you reassured him. “In no time he will be shouting at Jungkook for eating his ingredients and having fights with any insects that find their way to the garden. Now, let’s take these down because having the food right in front of me and not eating it is killing me.”

♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩

 Jin had a terrible headache, that’s where everything had started. He had woken up and instantly wanted to roll to his other side and fall asleep again covering his head with the blanket. His eyes refused to stay open and everything around him was like he was in a fog. His body wasn’t his own, it was like watching someone else execute each move he commanded, like he had lost parts of his senses. Everything was duller.

Powering through, he got up and made his bed, throwing the blankets over it with less precision than usual and arranging his stuffed animals against the pillows. It was your day off because of the gala and he had to make breakfast for you and the other hybrids.

It was enough that he got a few more hours of sleep as a result of the lack of your morning schedule. He could deal with the world being a little blurry at the edges and his body not cooperating every few minutes.

He made an easy breakfast for the day, which was a little disappointing when you were able to sit and enjoy it for once, but he was physically unable to do anything more. Sitting down would help. After breakfast, he would lay down on the couch and he would be better in no time.

Breakfast came and went and in a few hours, he had to start making lunch. Your offer to help was a godsend with his feet feeling like jelly. He thought he had it under control, that he could get through lunch then go to his room and hide under the covers where no one could see him. Until his legs gave up on him.

The knife slipped out of his hand and he watched its slow descent to the cutting board. In a blink he was on his knees, he blinked again and you were next to him helping him up. Hybrids weren’t supposed to get sick, scientists had engineered their whole being down to the color of their hair and eyes, they could strengthen their immune system as well. His past owners used to say that it was in his head because he was living with humans, that if he got sick the center must have given them a problematic hybrid and that couldn’t be true. He had paid a lot for Jin.

The door opened just enough for you to poke your head in. “Jin?” you whispered, quiet enough to not wake him up if he had been sleeping but loud enough for his hearing to pick up while awake. He lowered the blankets from his face. “Hey, did you finish with your food?”

“Yeah, it’s…” He pointed to the tray on the nightstand, he didn’t have enough strength to take it to the desk. You didn’t comment on the food that was left on the plates.

“Are you feeling any better?” you asked. His head still hurt and the heaviness of his body didn’t subside, but it was much better than when he had been standing so he nodded. “Do you need anything else? I brought some medicine if you want, I read that it’s alright for hybrids to take.” Despite the pain and the weariness of his body, he smiled at you and your research. The way you cared about them was endearing. You pulled out a packet from your back pocket.

“I think I’ll take one.” The constant drumming behind his temples and the back of his head was getting too much. It was so bad it wouldn’t let him sleep.

“I’ll go get some water for you.” You left the packet on the nightstand and picked up the tray with the leftovers.

Jin rolled to his back staring at the ceiling. He didn’t get sick often and he hated how his body was betraying him. You returned with a glass filled with water in one hand and a jug in the other.

“There you go,” you said handing him the glass. You opened the medicine packet and pressed a white tablet out. It was light in his palm, almost as if it wasn’t there. He put it in his mouth and washed it down with water. “You’ll feel better in no time.” You stroked his hair and he had to hold himself back from purring. Being sick he craved affection more than ever before.

“Don’t come too close, you’ll get sick too.”

You didn’t pull back. “Then I’ll have a reason to stay at home. It doesn’t sound so bad.” You tugged at the blanket. “Fancy some company?” Jin scooted to the side, letting you slip in next to him. Something inside him rejoiced at having you in his nest with him. It was ridiculous, having the need to nest was ridiculous, but he couldn’t suppress it. You turned around to face him, your head on a light blue pillow you had picked up from the pile. “Do you mind if I stay here for a bit?”

In the absence of words, he nodded his head. You took a deep breath and closed your eyes. You weren’t wearing makeup today in anticipation of the heavy makeup you would have to wear for the gala. The shadows under your eyes, concealed any other day, were threatening to spill over the rest of your face. The late nights had been many in the past few days, making up for the breaks you were taking. More and more he came to realize that work was your life and you were like a fish escaping water pushing it back.

You didn’t speak, basking in the silent company of each other. Jin let his worries go and, thanks to the medicine, his headache got duller until he couldn’t feel it. He didn’t notice when he fell asleep, waking up to voices.

“…feeling better, the medicine must have kicked in. His temperature has gone back to normal too,” you whispered.

“Okay, that’s good. Our Jinnie is strong,” the other voice said and heat traveled up to the top of Jin’s ears. The voice was unmistakably Namjoon’s and it was so warm Jin wanted to wrap it around himself and never let go. “I think we woke him up.”

“Oh no,” you complained, still whispering. “Jin?”

He opened his eyes, abandoning the comfort of the familiar darkness. You leaning on your forearm peering at him. His heart was beating faster.

“We woke you up, didn’t we?” you asked, looking guilty.

“It’s alright.” He could hear how rough his voice was from sleep. “What time is it?”

“Five,” you said.

He had been sleeping for more than three hours.

Namjoon took a step forward from the door. “I brought you some tea and biscuits,” he said, placing the tray on the now-empty nightstand.

Jin sat up on the bed with his back against the headboard. “Thank you. Can you…?” You picked up the steaming mug and handed it to him, holding it carefully so he wouldn’t burn himself. The plate of biscuits was placed on his lap over the blankets. It was a warm day but the air-conditioning was on in Jin’s room, the weight of the blankets over him promised safety and he didn’t want to be sweating from the heat.

“I’ll be going then,” Namjoon said with a small smile, the two of you exchanging a look.

“Wait.” Namjoon stopped in his tracks. Jin blamed his impulsiveness on the part of him that was controlled by the sugar-glider’s nature. Namjoon shouldn’t be leaving. Namjoon was pack and he should be with him when he wasn’t well, he should be taking care of Jin. One followed the other and it didn’t listen to logic. But he was tired and although the headache was gone, his head was still hazy, so he gave in. “Can you stay?”

The soft smile on Namjoon’s face was enough to wipe away any of his lingering doubts. “Of course I can.” Jin pulled up the blankets inviting him in. Namjoon pulled him closer bringing his forehead to his. The mug shook in Jin’s hold, you covered his hand with yours steading it. Jin realized it wasn’t only his hands shaking as Namjoon scented him tenderly. He felt so weak between the two of you.

 ♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩

  The makeup artist asked you to close your eyes again to finish your eyeliner. Your makeup had to compliment your dress, like you were a model on the runway and your purpose was to sell the design. You had to admit that it looked beautiful so far, the gold eyeshadow and the dramatic eyeliner. She completed the look with a matte red lipstick while the hairstylist was releasing the last loose curl from the curling wand. You looked like someone out of a movie and tonight you would have to own that.

They helped you put on the dress like you were incapable of doing it on your own. In these cases, everything had to be perfect, including the most mundane of things. The jewelry was modest as not to take the attention away from the dress but enhance the look. A golden necklace with a ruby surrounded by tiny diamonds to decorate the skin the plunging neckline left bare, small diamond earrings, and golden bracelets.

Half an hour left before the gala and you were ready. The charm was arriving a little late so you had to wait before leaving. The stylists took their leave but you stayed at the fitting room/styling section of the closet, which was right under the actual master closet.

The dress fit you like a glove, bringing attention to all the right areas and burying any imperfections. It was the kind of Cinderella transformation the protagonists in older movies used to go through before getting the guy, but it happened all the time to you. A spy in an action movie, a confident heroine knowing how to use her looks, a girl going to a party to have fun and get drunk, that’s more along the lines of the characters you liked to imagine yourself as. You were far from being any of those characters but it was fun to daydream sometimes.

One last look in the mirror and you climbed up the spiral staircase to your closet, turning off the lights behind you. The designer you had met had been pleasant and your conversations hadn’t been awkward. If the rest of the guests, or at least the majority, were like him then the night could be fun.

The hybrids were all in the living room, even Hoseok and Yoongi. Yoongi wasn’t sitting far from them, in a separate sphere, but next to Jimin who was pointing at something in a book. They all looked at you when you came in, the back of the dress sweeping the floor behind you.

“How does it look?” you asked, doing a twirl. The response was delayed by a few moments.

Namjoon snapped out of it first, coming closer to you and taking your hand. “You look beautiful.” He leaned in for your neck before his face scrunched up in displeasure.

“What?” you asked.

He sniffed at the air. “You…”

“Oh, oh,” you said in realization. “It’s the perfume, it’s quite strong, isn’t it? It’s a Christmas gift from my mother, she said she really liked it so I thought I would wear it for her.”

Namjoon tamed his expression but the frown didn’t disappear. “It’s a little overwhelming. It overpowers everything else.” The perfume was too much for you too, it wasn’t surprising that it was too much for the keen noses of the hybrids. The perfume you wore day to day in spring was a lot lighter and you didn’t put on a lot. You had never stopped to think about how perfumes would affect the hybrids.

“I’ll be sure to not wear it again then,” you said, giving his hand a squeeze.

“That isn’t what I meant.” Namjoon scratched the back of his neck. “You can wear it if you like it. It’s just a little much.”

“Well,” you looked at him and the other hybrids conspiratorially, “it isn’t my favorite, either, and if it affects you like that why would I keep wearing it?” Namjoon’s face smoothed out and you noticed Hoseok looking at you with amazement.

You opened the leather clutch and put in your phone and your keys. Your lipstick and powder were already inside along with a pack of tissues. It didn’t fit any more things.

“I’ll be going now. I’m fashionably late enough.” Before going, Jungkook and Jimin kissed you on each cheek careful not to ruin your makeup. Jin had fallen asleep again and none of you were willing to wake him up.

The night could become difficult so you ignored Yoongi’s eyes on you. You didn’t need any more people judging you.

A limousine was waiting for you outside, limousines were practically part of the dress code in these events. John wasn’t with you this time, you had given him the night off. These kinds of events starred in his nightmares, standing in the corner all night not saying a word. That’s how they kept up the illusion. Regardless of how many times you told him you didn’t care about it, he would follow what was expected of him.

The bright lights blinded you when you arrived. Everyone seemed to want to take a look at you. Your heels sunk into the red carpet at the entrance hall, large paintings in golden frames hanging from the walls. You were led up a grand staircase to the hall the gala was taking place. And so the night began…

You listened through speeches about fashion and the vision of the fashion industry and each individual designer. A few parts were quite interesting, but most of them failed to do anything more than repeat the same old ideas again and again. However, the champagne did make everything a little more tolerable. Your mother had been very happy to see you there and she had told you at least three times how beautiful you were. Your father smiled at you, a smile that looked way too political to be for his daughter, the same smile he would put on when greeting the president.

After the speeches were finished, your mother linked your elbows. It was time for the introductions. You put on your camera smile and shook more hands than you ever did at work. The compliments on your work were many, which ones were genuine was a mystery. But it did feel good when the daughter of one of your father’s associates told you how much she loved the finale of season 4 of Paper Hearts and asked you about Six of Crows.

You said goodbye to an older couple and your mother led you to the buffet. A sculpture of a man pinning fabrics on a mannequin stood proudly in the middle, surrounded by plates of food so perfect that it looked more fake than the decorative food pieces you used on set.

Your mother took another flute of champagne from a waiter. “Mr. Jones will be retiring soon but his son doesn’t want to take over the company. It causes a lot of family drama. I heard they only exchange a few words when they meet but Mr. Jones isn’t backing down.” You had no idea what company they had or who their son was but you nodded. “Ah, I wanted to ask you. You didn’t say anything about adopting hybrids.”

Your hand stilled before you could taste the hors d' oeuvres that looked like a sandwich but was too fancy to call it that. “Hybrids?” you repeated.

“I didn’t know you were interested in them,” your mother continued, unaware of how tense you had become. “Certainly not interested enough to adopt four. Are you making a collection?” She laughed at her joke but you only felt ill.

“No, I wouldn’t say that.” You took a bite of the food, trying to swallow it down. You had lost your appetite.

Your mother sipped on her champagne. “That would be a unique one, it could be showcased.” The churning in your stomach got worse. You left the piece that looked like a sandwich aside.

“How did you learn of it?”

“Don’t you read any magazines? It was front-page news.” You had expected that the information would be published sooner or later, you hadn’t been exactly hiding it, but sooner or later was in the future not now. “You should have told me, I would have looked for some high-quality places to buy them from. There are some very beautiful exotic pieces I have seen. Mrs. Anderson, do you remember her? She couldn’t make it this time but she was at the charity event last September.” You didn’t remember her but you nodded again. “She has such a cute chinchilla hybrid and he’s so well-trained too. I hope yours were trained well, I heard it’s difficult to train them yourself. Where did you adopt them from?”

You swallowed down the lump in your throat. “An adoption center in Los Angeles,” you lied easily. Spending hours and hours every day with actors, instructing them about how each scene would seem more natural, you had picked up a few tricks. “I just really liked them and they were already a pack, I didn’t want to break them up.”

Your mother arched a single perfectly-drawn eyebrow, a skill you had sadly not inherited. “A pack? Does that actually exist? Dear, the center must have been trying to give you four hybrids instead of one. Pack,” she tried out the word and she didn’t particularly like the results. “That certainly sounds like some kind of con. What are they? Are all of them wolves?”

“No, they aren’t all wolves. And it was three hybrids, I adopted the other one later from Tennessee with Taylor.”

Taylor’s name brought a spark to your mother. “Oh, how is Taylor? Such a sweet girl, I should have invited her. I will next time.” Your mother had met Taylor exactly once during one of the few of your movie premieres she had actually attended. “Which one did you adopt from there?”

You gritted your teeth, debating how much information was wise to give your mother. “Jin, he’s a sugar glider hybrid.”

That seemed to please her. “Sugar glider? That sounds fancy. I would like to see him up close.” Like you would ever allow that to happen. “He must be a rare breed.”

“He is.”

“Of course, I should have expected that my daughter would decide on a rare breed,” she said as if she was congratulating herself. “I insist you bring him to the next event. I was never that interested in hybrids, too much work, but one would look good in photos.”

“Yeah, I guess he would.” You took a deep breath, it wasn’t the time to throw a tantrum like you were five years old again or puke all over your expensive dress and shoes.

The expression on your mother’s face grew somber. “But four hybrids are a lot, I don’t think I know anyone who owns that many.” She twirled the flute in her hand, waves of the golden liquor hitting the glass and bubbles rising to the surface. “After what happened with Jacob I understand you have been feeling lonely, but hybrids aren’t good substitutes for human company, dear. You can’t rely on them as you relied on him or another man.”

A waiter offered you a glass of champagne from a golden tray. You couldn’t drink too much and risk your tongue loosening but you could allow yourself one more glass to get through this. “I’m not trying to replace him. They aren’t some kind of rebound.”

By her pinched expression, she didn’t believe you. “It’s alright to look for company somewhere else when you feel lonely. I don’t want you to think I’m judging your choices, you are an adult and free to make your own decisions but I’m your mother and I’m worried. You and Jacob were together for so long, we were sure he was the one for you. He was so nice and he took care of you. Your father and I were so happy for you.”

“Not all good relationships last. People change, they grow apart.”

“That’s true. It’s difficult getting out of a relationship after being together for so many years and getting back to your feet. That’s why I understand. I understand that you don’t want to be alone right now but don’t put all of your energy into hybrids. It just isn’t the same. Whatever some people like to say, hybrids are hybrids. They are different from us, they are on a different level. You can’t have the same connection with someone you own.”

Her words continued ringing in your mind for the rest of the night. Your father soon called you to introduce you to one of his colleagues, a successful businessman and politician you had never heard of. The glass of champagne was replaced by another one. You promised yourself it was the last. The owner of a luxurious brand talked with your mother about his plan to expand to more countries and the rehearsed and repeated vision to connect the world through fashion.

You peered at the other guests, all mingling, talking, and laughing. A man only a few feet away from you slapped a girl’s ass. You couldn’t believe your eyes, stuff like that didn’t happen at an event like this. You expected a scene, shouting and screaming and everything in between. Nothing happened. The man that had his arm around her waist only laughed. That’s when you noticed the black fluffy ears on top of her head, they were the same color as her hair and easy to miss. She didn’t have a tail. A silver collar with blue stones the same shade as her dress was secured around her neck. Her shoulders were tense and her head lowered.

In any other situation, any other time, you would have done something. You would have walked up to them and said something, anything you could think of on the spot, even talked to her, made a few minutes more tolerable. You did none of those things. Your parents were there and you had avoided embarrassing them all your life.

The guilt was eating you up, wrapping around all your organs and squeezing, hissing, and calling for your attention, not letting you forget. You had done nothing. If someone had touched your hybrids like that you would have cut their hands off. But that hadn’t been your hybrid, it hadn’t been your place. It hadn’t been your place like it hadn’t been your place to adopt Jin and go against his owner, like it hadn’t been your place to get involved with Namjoon’s pack or Yoongi and Hoseok for that matter. Maybe you had been tricking yourself all along, hiding your selfishness and fear behind the pretense of “not my place”.

Your mother was wrong, you hadn’t been looking for company when you and Jacob broke up. On the contrary, you disregarded everything except work, distancing yourself from all of your friends. It was easy with how busy you were at the time. You would have continued hiding in the Castle and spent your break alone if you hadn’t asked John to stop the car that night. They were what you didn’t know you needed. You had to stop being alone first to realize how lonely you had been.

You couldn’t go back to living like that, waking up and returning to an empty house, having no warm meal and warmer hugs waiting for you. That’s what your life had been like for the longest time and you wondered how you used to live like that. The hybrids were so tangled up in your life you couldn’t find where each thread ended or started. They merged and divided, connecting you all in ways you couldn’t describe.

Taylor had asked you about any crushes when you had been in Virginia, everyone was expecting you to find a new boyfriend after six months or at least start dating but you couldn’t bring yourself to do that. No one had piqued your interest and it wasn’t for lack of meeting new people. It would feel wrong going on a date with someone when the hybrids were waiting for you back home. And that’s where the problem was; it shouldn’t feel wrong. Many people who had hybrids went on dates, couples adopted hybrids together and it should be like that for you. But it wasn’t.

Overthinking was one of your talents and you had avoided like you were being chased by wild dogs. You weren’t one to simply go with the flow but Namjoon’s lips on your own had changed your mind. You were too afraid of losing that that you hadn’t allowed yourself to analyze what you were doing, what that meant for you. Namjoon was your hybrid, you may not act like it or think of him like that but you were his owner in the papers. And it wasn’t only Namjoon, the way you cared about the hybrids was different from the way you felt about anyone else. It was all-consuming and too bright. You felt more for them than you had ever felt about Jacob and that was dangerous.

You excused yourself from the event as soon as it was proper for you to do so. Tomorrow morning you had to wake up early for work and you couldn’t stay late into the night. It was true but not the reason you left. Your mother hugged you and thanked you for coming, inviting you once again to their house in New York. She had been inviting you every time you met and you hadn’t once been to their house.

The window of the limousine was cold against your cheek, your foundation staining the glass. Maybe your mother wasn’t that wrong. You didn’t dare put a name to your feelings but you couldn’t deny that they were there. Were you really that lonely that your mind was playing tricks on you? Groaning, you knocked your head against the glass, hard enough to hear a small thud. You shouldn’t be thinking of them like that, it was wrong, so wrong.

Was it the way the world viewed hybrids messing with you, bleeding into your subconscious? They were presented as the answer to any and all desires, transformed into wet dreams. The media had the power to influence behaviors and thoughts little by little without the person noticing. You had thought you were too clever to fall victim to their molded reality. You knocked your head against the glass again, the driver must have been thinking you were crazy.

The limousine parked in front of the Castle. On other nights the lights would have been turned off by now but tonight they were all shinning, welcoming you home. You fished your keys out of your bag and unlocked the door. The lights were on in the living room in the lowest setting.

“Welcome.” You jumped, almost tumbling to the floor at being startled while taking off your heels.

“Every. Single. Time.” Namjoon laughed quietly. “How do you do this every single time?”

“I was already here, I couldn’t make any more noise.” He got up from the couch, extending a hand to you. You took it and he guided you to the couch. “Did you have a good time?”

The dress wrinkled as you pulled one foot under you but you couldn’t care less. “It was… bearable. I didn’t-” You let your head fall on the back of the couch. Seeing Namjoon up close after the night you had, looking at you with soft eyes like you held the sky in the palm of your hand, everything was coming back. What were you doing here? Your heart shouldn’t be racing like that when you were thinking about the wolf hybrid, your hands shouldn’t be itching to touch him.

“You’re here now, you can relax,” he said trailing his hand from your arm to your shoulder and up your neck. Goosebumps raised on your bare skin. “You’re home.” His breath tickled your face, his lips were so close and you wanted, you wanted… You pushed him back.

“I should go take off my makeup. I’m exhausted.”

Namjoon frowned but he didn’t question you. “Okay,” he said softly. “Your bed must be calling your name.”

“It is,” you said slipping away from him. The absence of his touch left a void inside you. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.”

You went to your room with a heavy heart, leaving Namjoon alone in the living room.

♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩

 You found the offending magazine in a store close to the studios. Copies of it filled a whole stand. The cover was a photo of you with Jin and Jimin in front of the waffle place the day you had taken them with you to the table-reading. It really was front-page news.

In A Stunning Display of Power And Wealth Y/N Y/L/N Adopts Four Hybrids

Straight to the point, every word chosen precisely to attract attention. A display of power and wealth. Of course, that’s what sold copies. That’s what people wanted to read; how one of the richest and most famous directors of your generation was showing off their wealth and power. Hybrids continued to be a sign of money. To adopt four hybrids meant you were crazy rich, but people already knew that when similar headlines had swept all tabloids just a year ago, brought on by the outrageous purchase of the Castle.

Four pages were dedicated to you and your hybrids, completed with more photos of the same day and quotes from “insider sources”. You closed the magazine and went to the counter. The cashier scanned it without glancing at your face, which saved you some trouble. You almost thought you would have to re-enact the comedic scene of the cashier looking at the magazine, then at you, then back at the magazine, then back at you like a robot that had stopped working. You shoved the magazine in your bag, self-conscious of anyone seeing it on you, and went back to the studios.

Filming would begin very soon, which meant you were swamped with work. Everything had to be perfect because that’s the kind of director you were. A perfectionist. If it also gave you an excuse not to think about the hybrids and all of the implications of the flutter of your heart when you were with them, you weren’t complaining. And if you were a little more distant, that could easily be attributed to your work too.

Sleepless nights became too common, your head was too loud and Jimin laying next to you only made it louder.

Filming started and your schedule changed. Most days you still woke up early and returned late at night, but because each scene required a specific time of the day there were nights you came back hours after midnight. You had promised the hybrids you would take them with you on set but every morning you got in the car alone.

Fourth day of filming and unexpected rain forced you to cancel the outside shooting. You only had outside filming that day. You rushed to make adjustments and switch to scenes that could be filmed inside the studios. The crew would need time to prepare everything for the filming so you had been left with the morning off.

You unlocked the door, hiding inside the house from the rain. It hadn’t rained like that in a long time. The heavens had opened up and the rain refused to stop coming down like it was determined to turn Los Angeles into a gigantic lake. Your shoes left puddles wherever you stepped, you would have to mop the floors later. You took them off and placed them by the door. They had suffered the most, the rest of yourself was relatively dry with the exception of the lower part of your pants.

No one was attacking you with hugs as you closed the umbrella someone from the staff had handed you, the hybrids mustn’t have heard you coming in. If they had heard you, you would have had an armful of Jimin and Jungkook by now.

“Oh, hey Yoongi,” you greeted the panther hybrid coming out of the kitchen. Your tactic with Yoongi was to act like you were talking to someone who didn’t strongly dislike you. The scowls and the sneers had decreased turning into a plastic sort of indifference and that’s what made you pause. His scowl could cut you like a knife. “Are you alright?”

Yoongi stalked past you. “What are doing back?” he asked harshly.

You were taken aback for a moment. He hadn’t spoken like that to you since before you had left for Virginia. “I have the morning off because of the rain. Did something happen here?”

“Why do you care?” Yoongi stood by the staircase, his black tail unmoving behind him.

“Why would I not care?” you shot back. The rain had already ruined your plans for the day and caused you enough stress to last you for a few more, you didn’t have enough energy to deal with Yoongi. “Seriously, what happened? Is Hoseok alright?”

A low growl vibrated through the room, you almost took a step back at the threatening sound. “Don’t you speak his name. Was caring for him another way to make you feel powerful? Is this some kind of sick way for you to gain power over someone?”

You were too tired to handle this delicately as you should, you recognized that and proceeded to ignore it. “What the hell is this about? I just came back from work.”

Yoongi scoffed, it was an ugly sound. “Because you have brainwashed everyone else, don’t think I don’t see you for who you are. Have you sold our story yet? About how you saved Hoseok and nursed him back to health? I am sure that will sell many magazines. Show them all how all-powerful you are.”

Through the haze of the day, the words started to click. “You found the magazine.”

“You didn’t try to hide it.” You couldn’t remember where you had left it, it had probably ended up in the stack of magazines under the living room table. “I knew no one would take four hybrids in out of the goodness of their hearts. Did it work? Was it worth it or are you already getting bored? Maybe you should adopt a couple more. Make more headlines.”

“You have no idea what you’re talking about,” you gritted out.

“That’s what you’d like to think,” Yoongi sneered. “All of you are the same. Hiding in your mansions and looking for the next chance to brandish your name. It’s a constant chase of power and standing, isn’t it? And you’ll use anyone you’ll find in your way to climb higher. I know how it is. You can’t fool me. I’ve been dealing with people like you for years!”

Your pants and your wet socks were sticking uncomfortably to your skin. Your head was buzzing. It hurt because that’s everything you had been trying to avoid. Everything you had promised yourself not to become. Everything you had criticized your parents and their circle for. You weren’t like them. You had never been like them.

“You don’t know me, don’t pretend you do,” you said forcefully. “Do you really think that’s how magazines work? I just call them and tell them I want them to write about me? Put me on the front cover? That’s not it. Even if it was, why would I do that? I couldn’t care less about the power-plays you’re talking about. I’m a director and my work speaks for itself. I don’t need magazines to brandish my name because my movies and my shows are more than enough. The paparazzi saw the chance and they took it. Their goal is to sell and their headlines showcase exactly that; what people would buy. I never hid the fact that I adopted hybrids but I wasn’t flaunting it to the media either.”

“Why should I believe you?” Yoongi growled.

You sighed, a sound full of frustration. “Frankly, I don’t see what else I could do to make you believe me! I tended to Hoseok. I didn’t ask any questions. I tried hard not to cross any boundaries and to make you feel welcome. What more do you want me to do?”

“Nothing,” Yoongi said simply. “Nothing you do can change my mind.”

It was like a stone dropped in the pit of your stomach. You shouldn’t have expected anything else. Yoongi had been through a lot, that much was clear, but it was unfair that he was taking out everything on you. You were paying for the scars other humans had inflicted on him.

“I’m not who you think I am.”

“You don’t know what I think.”

“It’s pretty clear,” you muttered. “Alright, I can’t change your mind, I won’t even try. I know how to pick my battles. But if you really despise me so much then why bother? Nothing you say will change anything. Are you trying to uncover some hidden truth about me and how evil I am? Then what?”

The fur on Yoongi’s tail and ears stood on end. “I don’t care. I don’t care about you, about what you have done and what you will do as long as we’re gone from here. I don’t care for your charity or your pity. Did it ever occur to you that I never wanted to be here in the first place?”

You swallowed, willing your heart rate to calm down. “Then tell Hoseok and Jimin yourself. The keys are by the door.”

You didn’t wait for Yoongi to say anything else, turning around and locking yourself in your room. You laid down on your bed, your hands gripping your hair. The exhaustion this time was beyond physical, beyond mental. Your hands retreated from your hair, sliding down your cheeks. Your fingers were wet.

Later when Jimin and Jungkook knocked on the door, you had to open the door or risk worrying them. They jumped on the bed and snuggled close to you. You held your phone waiting for the call to go to the studios.

You didn’t face any new problems with filming. The actors were all incredible, seemingly one with their characters. You did a lot of filming at 300 Fox Way, the psychic’s house with its mystic aura and weirdly compelling assortment of objects. You instructed the actors, talked with the crew, and analyzed the script down to each comma. Focusing on anything other than Yoongi’s words and your hybrids had turned into an art form.

The sleepless nights didn’t cease, you and the moonlight had become good friends. Jimin’s visits to your room thinned out. He had noticed you pulling away. You didn’t hug him anymore or kissed his forehead before falling asleep, you couldn’t come to terms with doing that after everything that had happened. You had thought that maybe you would sleep better alone but that had been proved false soon after.

You got out of bed for the fourth night in a row. Every position was uncomfortable. Keeping your steps light you left the room. The large house was eerie at night, the living room area with its glass walls looked endless, combining the actual living room, the dining room, and what the real estate agents had called the family room that was really just another living room.

You couldn’t stay in your room on nights like these, it was too contained. The night air on your skin sent shivers down your frame as you walked out on the balcony. It was two days before the full moon and its glow illuminated the world.

What had you gotten yourself into? You wished you could go back to that morning and decline your mother’s invitation to the gala. Maybe, just maybe, then you would be able to sleep, your head wouldn’t be fighting you at every turn, at every chance.

Little pieces of moonlight shimmered and danced on the lake. The calmness of the world was a stark contrast to the mess in your head. You remembered how Jungkook had looked at the lake in awe that very first night, you had noticed then that he looked at Jimin the same way. You wondered how you looked at them and if anyone had noticed.

The moon had no answers for you.

Two golden eyes were looking up at you from the garden, they shone like the fires that had been extinguished earlier. Namjoon tilted his head, inviting you down. A weird sense of deja vu took over. You had lived something very similar before, a night that had changed so much.

You shouldn’t go. You should stay where you were, alone and safe, away from fluttering heartbeats and dangerous warmth. But the night had its way of calling out the risky nature of people. The thrill was so much more enticing when darkness ruled.

Climbing down the stairs, you kept your steps quiet. You never knew which sound would wake up the hybrids. Namjoon was standing by the flower bushes close to the curtain of vines that lead into the forest. He was wearing a dark blue pair of pajama pants and a simple black T-shirt.

“What are you doing awake so late?” you whispered, like everything around you had ears.

“I could ask you the same thing.”

You shook your head. “I have trouble sleeping, remember?”

Namjoon had caught you a few times wandering the house at night, he was the only one who knew that a lot of nights sleep didn’t come to you willingly. His own nightly adventures were more complicated.

“Why are you awake?” you asked him again. “Please don’t tell me you smelled distress or something again or I’ll freak.”

Namjoon chuckled, you had missed it. Keeping your distance meant you only saw them for barely two hours every day. They all tried to not make too much noise with you in the constant mood of ‘tired and gloomy’.

“No, that’s not it.” He looked up, over the trees. “It’s the full moon.”

“You have to be kidding me. Do you turn into a wolf too?”

Namjoon raised his hands in surrender, his dimples on full display. “I’m joking, I’m joking. I couldn’t sleep either and I like being outside at night like this. It’s peaceful.”

You couldn’t disagree with that. There was something alluring about the quiet of the night. You would describe yourself more as a morning person than a night owl but both of them were true, waking up early for work then staying up late for it too.

“Are you alright?” The smile had fallen from his lips.

You squirmed under the intensity of his gaze. “I’m just tired, that’s all. Filming takes a lot out of me.”

Namjoon sighed. “Are you sure that’s all there is? You have been acting differently, did you think we wouldn’t notice?”

You knew they would notice but you had hoped they would think it was because of your work. Work did take a lot out of you but it also used to be the reason you were so much happier returning home.

“It has been going on for too long. You don’t spend any time outside your room or your office if it isn’t to eat. You are avoiding us. Jimin and Jungkook stopped scenting you because they think they’re making you uncomfortable.”

“It isn’t- They aren’t making me uncomfortable. I’m just tired from work and I don’t-” you tried to deny it but you fell short of excuses.

“You were working before too, but it wasn’t like this,” he pointed out. “You were tired then too. Some nights you came back and I could smell the exhaustion around you like a disease. But you smiled when Jimin and Jungkook ran up to you and didn’t let you go, you laughed at Jin laughing at his own jokes. You came to me when it got too loud here.” He pointed to your head.

“We weren’t filming then.” It was a weak attempt but you had to make it.

Namjoon regarded you carefully. Beams of moonlight got tangled in his gray hair turning it silver. He looked at home right there at that moment, close to the trees with the moon shining on him. He was every bit of magic you had ever witnessed.

“This started before filming did. I knew there was something wrong when you came back from the gala. Something happened there,” Namjoon concluded. “I should have come with you.”

You shook your head vigorously. Imagining him next to you while your mother spoke about hybrids like that was torture. “No, you shouldn’t. You shouldn’t have been with me.” You paused to compose yourself. “It wasn’t good, it was really bad actually. It wasn’t the gala itself, there some interesting people and… My mother…” You took a deep breath. “I don’t think I like my parents very much,” you admitted.

It was hard to say after years of half-hearted attempts at mending your relationship with them. All those years apart you had become very different people. You had trouble remembering what they were like before they left you in your aunt’s care. You couldn’t see any traces of them in yourself, you didn’t enjoy what they enjoyed, your interests and priorities, the way you viewed the world were very different.

In the past few days, you had grown to hate your mother’s voice in your head but you had a feeling that it had been much longer than that. The only difference was that before, you had been able to ignore it.

Namjoon came closer, his hand touching your palm waiting for you to make the first move. You took his hand in yours, laying your head on his chest. “That’s alright. You don’t have to like them, no one is forcing you to.”

“But they are my parents.”

He stroked your back gently. “It doesn’t matter, that isn’t enough of a reason.”

“They aren’t bad people.”

“They don’t need to be bad people for you to dislike them.”

You stayed like that for a few moments, taking in his presence. You had missed being in his arms so much, like an ache that couldn’t go away.

He stopped stroking your back, cupping your cheek and pulling back so you were facing each other. “I’m always here for you. I don’t care about anything else but seeing you happy. I’m here.”

“I missed you,” you admitted like it was a secret.

Namjoon smiled softly. “I missed you too.” His thumb caressed your lower lip. There was a tingling sensation all over your skin. “Can I?” he asked just like the very first time.

You let out a shuddering breath. “Should we be doing this?”

“Do you want to?” he asked carefully.

You bit your lip before nodding. He leaned down connecting your lips. It was soft and careful, all the longing and hurt of the past days poured into the kiss. You pulled him closer and he came willingly. You could hear your heartbeat in your ears.

An awful laugh cut through the night. You pulled away from Namjoon like you had been burnt. Yoongi was one with the night, dark like a shadow.

“So this is it? Is this why you adopted them all? So you can have your pick when you’re in the mood?” The expression on his face was cruel, twisted up in disgust.

Namjoon growled, his sharp canines shinning in the moonlight. In that moment, Namjoon looked more dangerous than ever before. “Shut your mouth.”

“I see she has turned you into her dog. How long did it take to tame you?”

You held Namjoon back before he could lunge at the panther. You were afraid that if you let him go, there would blood on their clothes. “Don’t.”

Yoongi took a tense step forward. “That’s right, listen to your owner. Is that what she has turned all of you into? Her toys? Just for a roof over your head and food?”

“Shut the fuck up,” Namjoon growled. “Don’t you dare talk about her like that. You have no fucking idea what you’re talking about.”

Yoongi clenched his fists. There was anger and something else you couldn’t see in the night amidst your panic. “I knew it. I knew no one did what you did without any kind of agenda. Seems like the magazine was right, at least in part. You can’t fool me, even if you managed to fool everyone else.”

With that he was gone, like he was never there.

You couldn’t breathe. Your hand was still wrapped around Namjoon’s wrist and you couldn’t breathe. You counted in your head. One, two, three…

When Namjoon tried to touch your shoulder, you pulled away. “I’m going back to my room,” you said. Your voice sounded shaky to your own ears. Namjoon called out to you but you didn’t stop. He didn’t try to touch you again.

Please comment and reblog it motivates me to keep writing

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