#|| I have two fluffy cats now I always loved cats and cat films like Aristocats

[courcgecus]

My silly babies

#.outofcourage #|| I have two fluffy cats now I always loved cats and cat films like Aristocats #|| but got my first kitties at age of 30 and they are now one year old ladies <3

[cillianhead]

Anything about cillian with a beard!

Cillian with a beard... oh my god don't even get me started.

Anyway here you go my love <3

Three And A Half Months || Cillian Murphy x Reader

warnings: SMUT, also a fluffy sweet fic, oral sex (f receiving), face riding, mentions of blood but nothing too graphic, general adult content ahead.

18+ Minors DNI

Last night you had reunited with Cillian. It had been three and a half months since you had last seen each other, the longest you had ever gone without seeing one another, he was away shooting for a new film and it was in the states so traveling back and forth between Ireland and America grew exhausting. Of course, as soon as you saw each other, you had no time to process the beard on his face, just the fact he was there. Nothing else mattered except him being there, right in front of you, to touch and to hold. So you went at it like rabbits, knocking over furniture, breathing each other in like feral animals, making love until you were sore and panting for air. No amount of late night phone calls could ever truly compare to the feeling of having his cock deep inside you.

The next morning arrived, light pouring through the curtains and lighting a still sleeping Cillian in a golden light, the rays gave him a tiny halo, one you thought he rightfully deserved. You just smiled to yourself, the both of you still completely nude from last night's love making, you felt at peace, lying in bed with the love of your life, his arm draped over your waist heavily, the sound of his slow breathing, and the indescribable feeling of his warmth beside you. Every time you looked at him, a metaphorical slow romantic guitar would play, your heart would swell and overflow with love, and your eyes stung with the happy tears that seemed to always come. That was the thing about you, so incredibly emotional, Cillian always teased you about it. You'd cry at any chance you could get, whether it be because of hormones or because you saw a cute cat or because of the beauty that Cillian is. And when he had come home with that rugged beard that made him so handsome and so deliciously masculine, you felt weak in the knees, you cried but not from your eyes.

"Mornin' me love," The irish lilt of his voice mixed with the grumble of his morning voice brought you out of your daydreaming. "Lookin' so beautiful f'me." He leaned in, placing a soft sweet kiss to your cheek. You couldn't feel uglier with your messy bed hair and your puffy face after a long night's rest. But to Cillian you were the apple of his eye, no other woman could ever possibly compare.

"I missed you."

"I missed you too," He chuckled at your confession. "Those three months and a half went on for far too long but I'm here now, lovie."

"No, no..." You shook your head with a childish grin. "I missed you while we slept... missed you for every moment... was watchin' you sleep."

Cillian laughed contagiously, you giggled too as you felt him pull you closer to him, your bare chests touching. He nuzzled your nose with his own, this moment so full of love, so intimate and private. You felt like the luckiest person in the world to be with him. The light painting you two in a golden hue, the moment felt so surreal, like something out of a wonderful dream or something you'd see right before you die, right as your soul becomes free.

"What've you got planned today, Cillian?" You hummed, you both huffed out hot puffs of air on each other's faces, neither of you caring that you hadn't brushed your teeth yet. Just relieved you could finally touch each other again, relieved your souls could finally reunite and recharge, that your bodies were flushed together, it wasn't possible for you two to be any closer (physically at least).

"Nothin'," Cillian murmured quietly, stroking your hair softly. "Just planned on spending it with my favorite girl, thas' all." You felt yourself grow flustered, nuzzling your face into his chest before glancing shyly back up at him, growing more flustered at the sight of him and his beard. That beard that made your heart race and in between your legs throb with desire.

"Cillian..." You whined, catching your bottom lip in between your teeth. He was so fucking pretty and even after all this time of being together, you could never get over it. It made you feel like a giddy little girl with a silly school girl crush.

"Hmmm?" He hummed. The deep vibration sending jolts of arousal straight to your core. "What is it, baby love?"

"Your beard..." You ran your fingers along the hair accumulating across his jawline and cheeks, clenching your thighs together. In all the time you and Cillian had been together, he had always been clean-shaven, of course there'd be the rare occasion where he forgets to shave for a day or two and has a bit of stubble but nothing ever this long. Cillian had that knowing look on his face, he very much knew the effect he had over you. Arrogant was not the word you would ever use to describe Cillian, in fact he was an incredibly humble and modest man but when it came to riling you up, teasing you, he was quite arrogant then, arrogant in the way he knew every little inch about you and would use that against you. He enjoyed teasing you, enjoyed getting you where you were weak because he enjoyed watching you squirm. "It's so...." You trailed off, biting your lip once again with that flustered look on your face.

"...So what?" Cillian grinned, a cheeky glint in his blue eyes as his hand slipped further down your back until it rested on your bare ass. "Go on, tell your husband how wet his beard's gotten ya, love." Well that was unexpected.

You let out a bashful squeal, diving your face into his chest to hide the look of desperation and embarrassment on your flushed face. You heard him laugh, amused by how easily aroused you were. "Cillian... don't tease me... it's been three months..."

"And a half!" He added.

"...Since I last saw you, you can't blame me... especially since you look sooooooo fucking good with a beard..." You were looking him in the eyes now, his own pupils blown wide and a small one-sided smirk on his face. You slipped your hand down his abdomen before your fingers wrapped around his already hard cock, he let out a small breath at the feeling of your gentle hand.

"C'mere, Y/N," Cillian groaned, grabbing you by your waist, picking you up like you weighed nothing and sitting you up on his stomach. "Wanna taste you... s'been too fuckin' long."

Your arousal pooled on his stomach, getting off on the slight friction against your clit every time he breathed in and out but it wasn't quite enough. "Cillian... baby..." You huffed, too shy to make the first move, he gave your ass a gentle slap.

"Go on, sit on me fuckin' face," He was growing impatient, licking his lips. "Show me how much you love my beard, know you're soaking wet 'cause of it, silly girl."

He wasn't wrong and so you meekly crawled until your pussy was aligned with his hungry face. You hovered your hips hesitantly over his nose and lips, your thighs on either side of his head. He roughly grabbed ahold of your plush hips and pulled you down until he was suffocating in your sopping cunt.

"Fuck!" You mewled, your pussy ached with how turned on you were. His tongue lapped up at you, his nose perfectly brushing your clit as he fucked his tongue in and out of your tight hole. You never understood how he could breathe with your weight fully on top of him, he'd always give you some form of punishment if you didn't sit on top of his face like he was just a chair so you did as you knew he wanted. He always reassured you that he loved it, that being under you with his face buried in you was heaven on earth. And who were you to deny him what he so desperately craved when it felt so unbelievably good? He especially loved it when you took control, when you gave into the pleasure and rode his face, used his face like it was just something for you to cum on. He also knew the consequences of growing out his beard, he knew it'd turn you on, and this was exactly what he was hoping for. He knew once you came all over his face, he'd smell you in his beard for days.

Cillian was in pure bliss as he felt your fingers interlock with his hair, holding onto him for support as you began rocking your hips back and forth on his tongue and nose, moaning so fucking loud that the neighbors could hear. It had been so long and the feeling of his beard scratching your thighs and sticky folds made the experience so much better. The new sensation was only making you moan louder and louder.

"Oh fuck, oh fuck... Cillian..." You were gasping, Cillian groans into your pussy, encouraging your rough movements. "Missed this so much! Missed your face..." Fuck. The feeling of his nose pressed right where you need him, right against your throbbing clit, it was like he was made for you. You loved his nose and you always told him so.

Cillian was breathing you in, feasting on you, like all there was was you. Well at the moment, that was true. All he could hear, see, taste, and smell, and feel, was you. He could feel cum leak slowly out of his cock, not being able to handle how turned on and rock hard he was, he needed some kind of release. But there was no way in hell he was going to touch himself, not when he could have his hands grasp onto your hips, holding you down on his face even further. He hoped one of these days that you would eventually become one. That he could have your delicious cunt permanently on his face, even if it meant suffocating to death.

"Cillian... I... fuck..." Your head was rolled back, hand gripping desperately onto the top of his head, too lost in the pleasure to think about how you could be hurting him but you knew if it was too much for him he'd tap out which he never does. You knew Cillian would take whatever you gave him. "I'm cumming!" You choked out, your hips that were previously fucking his face slowed down a bit, stuttering your movements as you came. You hadn't came this hard in months, your fingers could never compare, nor could your vibrator, or showerhead. You had fully collapsed on top of his head, thighs squeezing his head like a vice as you saw stars. Your vision going completely white. Cillian lapped up all of it, taking it gratefully, face completely drenched and well ridden as you pulled off of him with a gasp.

"Bloody hell..." He grunted, gasping for air. You sat on his chest, still too weak or sensitive to move. Cillian smiled up at you dopily, high off of feeding off you. It only turned you on further how he got off on your pleasure. "Tastes so good... missed that so much... think I know what I'll be doin' all of today, love." You shook your head at Cillian, giggling a bit.

His face was drenched and beard sticky with your cum. Your cum formed perfect little droplets within the hair on his face, looking like he had just dipped his whole face in some sort of body of water, your cum had made it all the way to his forehead somehow. You blushed as you hopped off of him, you always felt embarrassed afterwards.

"Oh my god!" You exclaimed, seeing a bit of blood staining his teeth, you looked down at your groin to make sure you weren't bleeding (maybe you got your period?) but your heart sank at the realization you had managed to bust his top lip with how hard you rode his face. "I'm so sorry, Cillian! I'm so so sorry!"

He sat up with a frown, rubbing at his mouth to see the bit of blood on his fingers. He grinned like a mad man at the sight, standing up to look at himself in the mirror. You didn't understand why he was so happy about it. Beard coated in your creamy cum, face flushed, and his top lip bruised and swollen from where it had been repeatedly rubbing against his teeth. Cillian was pleased with his appearance and the newly made wound on his face. You stood up on shaky legs, cupping his face, worriedly.

"It's okay, love," Cillian reassured. "I'm fine, just a bit of blood, it'll heal by tomorrow I'm sure."

"No! I hurt you! I'm sorry I wasn't thinking!" You felt so guilty, you felt like the worst wife in the world. You brushed your thumb along his wet beard with a sad look on your face.

"Y/N," He said firmly, grabbing a hold of your waist, giving you a soft kiss, giving you a taste of yourself. "I wish you could understand just how much I love it when you ride my face. Best fuckin' thing in the whole world, how many times have I told you I'd die a happy man if it meant I got to drown in ya? Hmmm?" He smiled, you still frowned up at him, feeling guilty at his reddened lips. "Fuck, I don't think I could look sexier right now, I mean look at me! I don't really care f'me on looks but c'mon... you make me beautiful, Y/N..." Cillian looked delicious, he was right, you wanted to pounce him then and there and sit on his face all over again. "If people ask what happened to my lip, I can make up some flimsy excuse about how I fell on my face or some shit like that but smile to myself... knowin' the real story..." He licked his lips before continuing. "Knowin' that my goddess of a wife got herself off on my face because she loves me so much..."

His voice was soft, his hands caressed your naked body as he leaned in and kissed you. His beard was the best feeling ever against your lips. "I am sorry though... Cillian... I should've been more gentle..." You murmured. Cillian shook his head, he loved it when you were rough with him.

"I know a way you can make it up to me, darling," He hummed with that mischievous grin before gently pushing you down onto your knees, face right next to his deliciously hard cock. He moved his hips so that the head of his dick pushed at your lips, slapping you gently across the face with it. "Can't promise I'm gonna last very long though..."

"That's fine, Cillian... love the taste of your cum..." You said smiling as you lovingly took him into your mouth. God he looked so pretty with his beard.

-

<33333

#cillian murphy #cillian murphy smut #cillian murphy x reader #cillian x reader #peaky blinders #thomas shelby #tommy shelby #cillian x fem!reader #cillian murphy fanfic #peaky blinders imagine #cillian murphy imagine #cillian #jonathan crane #jonathan crane x reader #jonathan crane smut #scarecrow

[laladellakang]

connect

masterlist | wattpad

their relationship was bound to happen in (almost) every universe, world and reality

happy belated birthday della (and me^^) and happy belated anniversary to my favourite poly couple. this is my longest fic at 5500+ words

"What did you think of the movie?" Jay asked Della, who was the only one who hasn't stated her opinion.

It was one of the rare moments when all the Enha members watched in the cinema together. They were all curious about the most-awarded film that just won best picture at the Academy.

"I didn't think it was gonna be that funny but it was hilarious," Della smiled. "It was hilarious and sad. It was really good. I loved it."

"Anything else?" Jake asked. They could all tell that there was something in her mind.

"I really liked Waymond.. and I cried a few times near the end..." they know her too well. She had more things in mind. "You guys know I didn't watch the new Doctor Strange movie, right?"

"Mm," they have an idea of where it's going.

"What Waymond said in the movie star universe made me cry, first off. But it also made me think..." she played with her fingers. "The multiverse thing is most probably fiction but I really hope that we get to be together in a lot more universes than this one. All eight of us."

"Don't think about it, darling. The multiverse isn't real and I'm sure our relationship would've existed in another universe if it was. Maybe even most of them."

washington, united states of america

"Shit. I think everyone has formed their groups," Alice mumbled to Della. "Looks like we're the only ones left.. again."

"Seriously?! What about Jen and..." Della frantically turned her head to her other friends. "Fuck, they have eight people."

"One, two, three, four..." she heard Alice count quietly. "Fuck, there are two groups of seven so we have to split."

"Shit..." well that's the price you pay for being friends with everyone so you're not in a specific friend group and only stick with your best friend. "Not lucky this time," she sighed at the thought of being separated from (practically) her other half.

"Yeah..." Alice was still looking around the class. "I just realised one of the available groups is with H7! All seven of them!" Della scrunched her face at the name.

"Please don't call them that, that's cringy as fuck," H7 is what the student body calls this one friend group. All seven students are in the basketball team and are all handsome. Hence the name; Handsome 7. "What about the other one?"

"Is everyone done picking the groups?!" the teacher asked out before Alice could answer.

"Not yet!" Della and Alice said in unison.

"Hurry up, you two. Ethan's group is open, Luke's group is open," great- it's pick your poison.

Either Della gets grouped with a bunch of boys- and H7 at that, or groups with her ex and his 'girl best friend' who never liked her.

"Good luck with H7," Alice whispered in her ear, getting up to sit with Luke's team without a second thought.

Now that's a best friend. Della couldn't help but smile at the thought. 

She grabbed her favourite pen and notebook before heading to where the seven popular boys sat.

She wonders why no one chose to sit here, considering the many fangirls they have. I guess they wanna be with their friends more.

"Sorry to squeeze myself in," she sat on the only empty seat next to number seven. Otherwise known as Will.

Will was always so smiley and friendly to everyone, he doesn't just stick around the popular kids. He's almost like the sunshine of the group. Yet he's a totally different person on the field. He does not play around.

"Not at all," majority of them said.

"Della, right?" number four, Johnny, asked. Johnny is straightforward and mature, somewhat like the leader of the group. Interestingly enough, his looks are quite the opposite. His eyes and fluffy cheeks resemble those of a cat. Absolutely adorable.

Take his smile away and you got yourself a fierce cat.

"Yeah," she smiled softly. "I'm sure you know that I know you all already."

"I'm Jake," number five- okay let's cut out the jersey numbers, cocked his chin up. Jake is known for his insane basketball skills and a real big flirt. Doesn't necessarily play with girls' hearts though. All bark and no bite.

"Ricky," Ricky cloned Jake's head cocking with raised eyebrows. Ricky is really cool. The way he looks, moves, talks, everything. Cool in general but his playfulness comes out within the group. They're all the same age, yet it's almost as if he's the youngest of H7.

"Hi," Della awkwardly said. What else was she supposed to do?

"I'm Will," "Johnny," two of them did the same.

"We've been in the same school for a few years now. I know your names," she chuckled.

"Well I'm Ethan," Ethan brought his hand out for a handshake. While Jake was the flirt, Ethan was the one who's an actual player.

Not really though. From what Della has heard, he treats his past girlfriends like royalty. She suspects that he's just desperate on finding the one... in high school?

"Hi Ethan. I'm Della," she grinned and shook his hand.

"Oh, so Ethan gets a personal 'hi' and a handshake?" Ben had his arms crossed, eyeing their hands with a lazy smirk.

"Hi Ben," her smile stayed as she rolled her eyes. Ben likes to joke around with his friends. Exclusively his friends. Everyone knows how loud and hyper he gets but only a handful of people can make him like that.

"So everyone has a group now right?!" the teacher yelled out again. "I'm going to explain the project!"

"Yes!" some students answered. The class immediately turned quiet to hear the instructions.

"I'm Jay, by the way," the guy across from her leaned in to whisper in her ear. "Nice to meet you, Della."

Della mostly remembers Jay from his parents who helped fund the school. Crazy rich.

Everyone's somewhat rich since they attend the state's top private school. But Jay's family is on another level. Even his uniform looks more expensive.

"Nice to meet you too, Jay," she made the mistake of looking him straight in the eye within close proximity.

He really is handsome. Straight out of a magazine.

"I hope you don't get bored of us. We're really looking forward to doing this project with you," they seem to be stuck in that position.

"Really?" she raised her eyebrows.

"Mhm," Della swallowed at how hot he sounded.

"Ditto."

seoul, south korea — txt & en- playground

"She's so pretty," Niki giggled to his hyungs.

"She's prettier in real life- how's that possible?" Sunghoon gushed to them quietly too.

"What did I say about talking about this in public?" Heeseung scolded. "People might hear and we haven't even debut yet."

"Easy for you to say. You trained with her so you know what she looks like up close," Jay chuckled.

"Aish- just don't make things so obvious. Stop staring at her."

TXT's Della is one of the country's top visual. Nicknamed 'Korea's Siren', it's no surprise that she has lots of admirers. Even her juniors can't seem to resist her charm.

"Should we talk to them?" Della asked her bandmates. "I feel bad. They keep looking at us but must feel so awkward."

The five other members looked at each other with a knowing look. Time to play wingmen.

"Let's go! But I need to head to the restroom," Yeonjun slightly widened his eyes to the boys, trying to tell them to leave with him.

"Wait! Me too!" "I'm coming!" "I need to go too!" "I need to pee!" they said at the same time.

"What?! Guys don't leave me here!" Della watched them all stand up. "I'm gonna go to the restroom too!" 

"NO No!" the members stopped her.

"You need to keep our seats warm!" Beomgyu tried to think of an excuse.

"But I would need five butts.." Della raised her eyebrows.

"Well..."

"You guys are being weird but I'll listen to you anyway because I trust that what you're planning is something good," she sat back on her seat. "Have fun doing your business guys!" she waved.

"We love you, Della! Trust the process! Please be your cool self!" Kai exclaimed before the five disappeared.

"She's alone!" Jake whispered aggressively to his bandmates.

"Subtlety! Subtlety!" Jungwon reminded when most of the guys turned their head to where she sat.

"Should we go say 'hi'? Say that we're big fans?" despite being a shy group, Enha wishes to do so many things and that includes making the first move.

They already talked earlier. What's so different now?

There's no hiding behind the other TXT members, that's what.

"The Tubatu guys probably did this on purpose," Heeseung mumbled.

"Should we just... go there?" Jay tried to confirm the plan.

"Yeah yeah, let's just-" before they could continue, Sunoo stood up from his seat.

"I'm gonna go grab a snack first. Wait up."

"Hurry back!" Niki called after him. 

Sunoo let out a sigh. He can't believe that every single one of his bandmates took an interest in the girl she's admired since her debut.

He doesn't own her or anything but well technically he liked her first.

Or maybe Heeseung did since they trained together for a bit.

"Don't you like macarons?" Della suddenly joined Sunoo in the snack table.

"Ah that surprised me!" he jumped, placing a hand on his chest. 

And he got even more surprised at the fact that the girl his members were gushing about was standing right there.

"Sorry, sorry," Della held her hand up with an embarrassed smile. She thought that it was the perfect opportunity to talk to the young group; by slowly starting with one member and eventually everyone else.

"Hello!" he quickly bowed.

"Hello," her smile changed to a warm one.

"How did- how did you know I like macarons?" he covered the bottom half of his face.

"I watched I-Land. You ate it in the first episode," she giggled.

Oh my God. She watched I-Land.

"Your cover of Crown was amazing, by the way. Absolutely did it justice," oh my God, she's complimenting me.

"Ahh thank you so much!" he bowed slightly.

"Listen.. I really wanna get to know Enhypen- as friends! Of course!" her voice had slight panic in them. "You guys seem really cool and sweet so..." she started to feel really shy.

"Of course! They really wanted to meet you too," the two looked at the other six and found them staring. They quickly snapped out of it to give her a small bow.

"Cute," she smiled. "I would love to get close- if you!" she stammered. "If you guys don't mind! I know it's risky for male and female idols to be close so..." Sunoo can't help but soften at her words.

He should be slightly jealous at how she wanted to get to know all seven and not just him, yet for some reason, he just felt warmth. Kang Della is interested in them. All of them.

"Don't worry. All seven of us would absolutely love to get close with you."

riverfield, webtoon world  [dara = sooha]

"Dara! Wait up!" Shion yelled out. 

Dara turned around to find her seven new friends walking towards her.

Or well... more like to the dorms.

"Shion! Hi!" Dara grinned when they caught up to where she was. "Are you all heading to the dorms?"

"Yup! We're about to go and hang in Solon's room though! Would you like to join?" Jino invited enthusiastically.

"Jino!" Solon scolded his friend through their mind-link. "What did I say about getting close to Dara?!"

"That it's an amazing idea to get her to be our friend?" Jaan answered.

"Pfftt.. friend," Noa held back a smirk. "You all act like you don't want more," they knew the youngest was right but didn't want to acknowledge it. Even Noa himself regretted saying it. Now his brothers might think that he doesn't want her.

"Solon's right. Dara shouldn't get mixed up with vampires, it's dangerous," Jakah said, his hesitance evident.

"Guys?" Dara waved her hand with furrowed eyebrows, unaware and unable to hear the vamps' conversation. The action also brought those boys back to what they were initially doing.

"Yes! Yes?" Heli was the first to respond.

"Were none of you listening?" she frowned slightly. There were seven guys there. How did NO ONE pay attention?

"No, I was!" "I was listening!" Shion and Jino said together in panic.

"I was just about to say 'that's great' and 'let's get going then,'" Jaan tried to make it smooth.

"I'm sorry Dara, I spaced out," Noa said, attempting to get points for honesty.

"Noa, how can you space out when Dara's talking?" Shion gasped dramatically.

"Like you weren't lying just now-" the bickering would've gone for longer if Heli didn't cut them off.

"Sure, Dara. Why don't we all walk to your room together and then move to Solon's?" Heli, being the one with actual telepathic abilities, was able to multitask perfectly. He was the only one to catch what Dara said.

'I'm flattered and would love to join, but I actually wanted to give you all a little something. Do you mind if I go over to my room to grab it real quick?'

"She wants to grab something from her room before joining," Heli quickly relayed the message.

"Perfect! Let's head on to Dara's room!" Jino exclaimed. "You coming, Solon?"

Solon's ears practically had steam coming out of them. He wanted to tell his brothers off for being so dumb and smitten over a human.

But it's not like he isn't too.

"I'm coming with. I wanna see what she prepared for us," Jakah intended his mind-link for Solon, showing how the older would be the only one absent.

"Fine," he grumbled before walking ahead of the group a little.

As they were making their way, he could hear his brothers laughing and chatting with Dara, causing him to be in an actual sour mood.

When he looked back once, he found that the girl was standing beside the eldest and grinning up at him.

'She probably only prepared something for Heli,' he internally scoffed. He was unaware of the jealousy he felt.

Yet once they reached her room, his predictions of the girl was oh so wrong.

"Hi! Sorry for the wait, so uhh..." she exited her room with seven small containers at hand. "This is a cream for whenever you get injured. It's supposed to work for everything, it's multipurpose. But if it doesn't work then just come to me and I'll give you something stronger."

She had actually thought about all of them. She noticed the injuries that they sustained during their last battle. 

"Nightball seems very demanding so you might use this up well," she giggled. She still believes that their injuries came from the sport.

Solon watched as she handed everyone their own cream, complete with a handwritten label of their names.

"Actually Solon, do you mind if I put this on for you? Your injury looks really bad," she looked at his forearm with worry. She had saved him for last.

"Yeah, sure," he practically whispered.

The seven boys silently observed as this girl carefully tended to the wound on Solon's arm, and they felt their hearts warming up (more). 

Solon wasn't exactly lovely to her, but she stayed patient and kind.

'Fuck being a human- I really like her.'

brisbane, australia — 2010

"DELLA!" the seven boys yelled out from outside Della's house. "DELLLLAA!" 

"No way..." Della muttered to herself and looked out her bedroom window.

There they are. Her very annoying, seven best friends.

"Della!" her mother called from downstairs. "The boys are here for you!"

"Just a second, mom!" she rushed to put on some socks and hurried down.

"Careful! Careful! No running!" her mother scolded. "Especially with socks, you might slip and fall."

"Sorry mommy," Della gave her a big hug as an apology. 

"Be careful, okay?" her mother reminded before opening the front door. "Hello kids!"

"Hi Mrs. King!" "Hello!" the boys said together.

"Is Alice not joining?" Della was putting on her shoes as her mother asked questions.

"Not today, Mrs. King. She had to go to the dentist," Johnny answered for the group, as always.

"Oh okay. What are you guys planning to do today?"

"We're gonna watch a movie in Jay's house!" Will replied enthusiastically. 

"Huh? Why are you all here then? Della could've gone with just Jake and Ben," Mrs. King pointed at their two (closest) neighbours. They all live near one another, but Jake and Ben lives two houses away from the Kings'.

"We wanna make sure Della was being careful and safe," Jay gave a charming smile.

❅◦❆◦❅◦❆◦❅◦❆◦❅◦❆

"The movie was so romantic!" Della gushed on once they were done watching. "Especially in the lanterns!"

The guys wanted to watch Megamind, but instead they got sucked into watching Tangled because that's what Della wanted.

They barely paid any attention and mostly talked throughout the movie, yet having them agree to watch her (already) favourite movie was more than enough to make her happy.

She has watched it a million times since it came out anyway.

"Oh I wish I had magic glowing hair! I can just sing 'flower bling and glow, let your power shine' and boom! I'll be young forever!" she twirled around in a daydream.

"We're seven, Della. Don't you wanna grow up a bit and then be young forever?" Ben brought her back to reality.

"I wanna be a kid forever!" Ricky spun around in circles. "I wanna be five and not go to school!"

"Yeah! I just want nap times and games in school!" Jake caught Ricky, making them fall into the large couch.

"Ben has a point though! I wanna be a dancer when I grow up! A real one!" Della was used to all the chaos of being friends with the seven kids. They just enjoy each other's company as is.

"I wanna be a dancer too! I wanna make a dance team and dance all around the world!" Ricky yelled.

"Guys! Let's make a team when we grow up!" Ethan proposed his idea.

"A team?" "What team?" everyone calmed down in interest.

"Any team! We can be a doctors team! A team astronaut team! Dancers! Police! Let's just make a team!" his little voice sounded so certain.

"I wanna be a biker," Jay calmly stated.

"Why a biker?" Will looked at him with a judging look.

"Bikers are cool. They ride motorcycles and have cool jackets," Jay shrugged. "I just wanna be cool."

"My mom says bikers are bad," Will innocently pouted.

"I wanna be a doctor," Johnny sat upside down.

"I wanna be a professional ice skater," Ben joined in. "Our jobs are so different."

"Well we can be a team of something else, it doesn't have to be our jobs," Della thought. "Let's just be together until then!"

"Be together until then?" Johnny repeated, sitting back upright from dizziness.

"Yeah! Like Flynn and Rapunzel! They were a team-"

"But they were only two people. We have seven!" Jake managed out whilst in the midst of play fighting with Ricky. 

"Eight if we count Alice," Jay reminded.

"No, Della's right. We can be a team like Flynn and Rapunzel when we grow up," Ethan thought.

"If we're gonna be like the movie, can I be Maximus?" Johnny randomly responded.

"Oh and can I be the king?" Will joined in.

"I wanna be Flynn! Agh!" Ricky raised his hand before getting tackled by Jake.

"I wanna be Flynn!" Jake protested.

"I told you that anyone can be whatever they want! We don't have to be like Tangled!" Della pouted. Sometimes her friends are impossible.

"What about Transformers?" Ben asked about his favourite movie.

"Oh maybe like TMNT," Jay grinned.

"Well whatever the example is, I'm sure we can be a team when we grow up," Ethan smiled.

"You really think so, Ethan?" Della said with a soft voice and soft eyes. "Even with me as a girl?"

"Girls can do anything, Della. My mama and so many films show it!" Jake and Ricky started to calm down down their play-fight.

"You're the most important part of our team, Della. I promise," Ethan looked into her eyes with the same amount of softness, maybe even more.

"Ouch, E. Good to know that we're not that important."

seoul, south korea — the YG building

"Like this-" the choreographer demonstrated a certain position to Della. "Ooh ooh, like that but- you gotta hold his arm so it'll be safe each time."

Kang Della's first single album will be released after just two years of Magnum's debut. As the most popular member of her group, the company agreed that a solo would be appropriate.

"We gotta keep you safe, superstar," the dancer she was holding, Jungwon, teased. "How else are you gonna break records?"

"Aish-" Della slapped his arm briefly before going back to her original position. 

"Actually, maybe it's best if you hold her, Jungwon-ah. I'm scared that she'll fall one day," the choreographer instructed. "So Della doesn't have to hold on to you but instead you... that's it."

"I'm not that clumsy, unnie," Della smiled but didn't protest. She knew that she was just looking out for her.

"Just in case, darling," the other dancers watched the three experiment with the song's bridge.

"You wished that was you, huh?" one of the female dancers whispered to Niki.

"No, I don't," he got really defensive. "She's a client."

"I mean... she's also our friend.." Niki didn't know what else to answer so he kept quiet. "Eyyy," she nudged his shoulder teasingly.

"No no, I'm seriously not jealous. I don't like her like that," he shook his hand.

"You would have to compete with the whole world anyway. Including your buddies," she looked at the five other male dancers.

"Nah, there's no competition, don't worry. I was just watching them."

❅◦❆◦❅◦❆◦❅◦❆◦❅◦❆

"Lucky Jungwon got to be paired with Della," Jake complained to his friends during their break.

"Aish- you got the whole world shipping you two," Sunghoon pointed at him. 

"At least you had that little moment during the fanmeeting," Jay also pointed at Sunghoon. "I was stuck with another member."

"Oh my God! Hyungs! At least you guys have something! All Heeseung-hyung, Niki and I have are group photos!" Sunoo protested. Those three always seem to be bickering.

"Isn't that a good thing? My DMs and comments are not filled with overprotective Della fans," Heeseung chuckled.

"You guys should be like me. Everyone makes shipping content of us even though we're never seen next to each other," Niki smirked.

"Lucky..." Jay muttered.

"I just want people to think that she's taken," Sunoo pouted. "Then people would stop hitting on her."

"Nothing could stop those guys and you know that," Jungwon wiped the sweat off his forehead. "They'll keep asking her out even with all kinds of rumours."

"You're right," "Mhmm," his friends all agreed.

"Where is Della anyway?" Jake asked.

"Should be here any minute n-"

"Sorry I took so long! A manager wanted to talk to me!" Della entered the room in a hurry. "Hello, my loves," she went over to place a kiss on their cheeks. "What were you all talking about?"

"How lucky some of us get to be seen with you," Niki crossed his arms. "And how other idols keep hitting on you."

"Again? Guys I turned them down already," she sat next to the youngest with furrowed eyebrows.

"No no- it's not really about that but more about how we wish we can just tell the world about us," Jake grabbed her hand for assurance. "We're not blaming you, darling."

"I really wish I could too," she sighed. "I love being an idol but sneaking around sucks real bad."

"Having seven boyfriends doesn't help too," Sunghoon lightly kicked Della's feet. His comment made everyone but Heeseung sigh.

"Heyy- I don't know if this helps but at least all of us being together makes it less suspicious! It's just like she's one of the boys!" the oldest tried to lighten the mood.

"Please use a different expression next time but you're right," Della scrunched up her face. "And since you guys are dancers, we get to be really clingy!"

It's true. Jake had the opportunity to be Della's love interest in a music video. Sunghoon got to be paired with her during a dance cover. Jay once made a cameo on Magnum's Youtube channel. Niki is one of the most popular members so they get shipped a lot, and now Jungwon gets to have a dance opportunity for her solo.

They're allowed to be seen together and it won't be too suspicious.

"Yeah, we're actually quite lucky, eh?" Jay smirked. "I love this relationship, y'all."

"Awww," they all teased, some of them even nudging and pushing him.

"CUTEE," Jungwon aggressively said.

"Cutee, "So cutee," "Awww aww awww," they teased him more.

"Ahh whatt?!" Jay turned around, embarrassed.

"Cute," Della smiled to herself, watching her boyfriends interacting.

"Della-ya," Niki whispered in her ear while everyone was distracted.

"Hmm?"

"Don't tell the others yet but I choreographed your other song," Della looked at him with wide eyes and a huge grin.

"No way! Congratulations!" he quickly shushed her. "Sorry sorry."

"There's gonna be a tiny moment with me. Nothing major like Jungwon-hyung's, but at least I get to hold you a little."

seoul, south korea — the hybe building

[let's pretend that all the guys are over 21 in this. there's nothing sexual but della is everyone's noona so it'll be inappropriate if she dates someone of their actual age]

"It's a bit..." Della's assistant hissed and tilted her head. "It's good now but it's missing something.."

"Is it the colour? Not enough red maybe?" Della agreed but couldn't detect the issue. The seven guys look good but they could look better.

"No no, I think Jake's pants are dark enough to match Jungwon's hair," the assistant pointed.

Della stayed silent for a few moments, trying to figure out what to alter, and it only hit her when Jay started subtly flexing his arms.

"Ahhh," a lightbulb went off. "Let's give Sunghoon a sleeveless outer," she gestured to Sunghoon.

"Sleeveless?" her assistant asked curiously.

"Jay is too revealing. We need to give someone else something sleeveless," Della explained. "We have that black vest, right? The leather one? I think we should give Sunghoon that."

"Is it here? Where is it?" she looked around for the said outer. "I think it's in the other room. I'll go get it."

"Oh, and can you please bring the black shorts too, unnie?! I wanna test it on Sunoo or Heeseung!" Della called after.

"Okay!" the remaining eight people watched the other stylist leave the room.

"I'm too revealing, huh?" Jay teased his secret girlfriend.

"The balance was off!" Della leaned against the closest boy, Jungwon. "You guys like the outfits though, right?"

It's been two years since Della worked at the company as a stylist and she was still lacking confidence in the outfits she builds. 

Enhypen has worked with middle-aged stylists for the longest time. She questions whether hiring a younger one was a good idea. 

"It's really cool, what're you talking about?!" Jungwon pushed her lightly. "The vibe fits the song well and we all look good!"

"It's really pretty!" "It's really cool!" "We look good!" the others complimented.

"It's just..." she stepped back again to look at the big picture. "Yeah, I think we need to change Sunghoon's jacket and Sunoo's pants..."

"Good. I was getting envious that Jay got to show off anyway," Sunghoon smirked while removing his jacket.

"Next time, I wanna show off my arms too," Niki told Della.

"Me too! But just wait a couple of months for me to prepare," Heeseung touched his bicep.

"Yah- tell that to your other stylist. I'm only responsible for comeback outfits," Della wrapped Sunghoon's previous outer around his waist.

"Can't you be our full-time stylist?" Sunoo pushed back her hair just as she put a belt on Jungwon.

"I would love to, darlings but I can't be seen when I'm only a few years older than you," she gave him a smile, now untucking Sunoo's shirt. 

"Shouldn't the world know that we have the hottest noona as our stylist?" Heeseung asked.

"Aishh- you guys flatter me too much," she stepped back to observe again. "I'm worried Jake and Sunoo look too plain.."

"Noo," they whined. "If everyone is too flashy then it'll be too much."

"Jay, give your gloves to Sunghoon please and please wear these, Wonie," she placed a pair of yellow gloves in Jungwon's hands.

"Hey- heyy," Jake put his hands on her tense shoulders. "Why are you stressing so much, babe?" his fingers moved to massage her. 

"I'm worried I might get replaced if I don't do a good job," she laughed nervously.

"You've been working with us for a few years now, they can't fire you that easily!" Sunoo looked at her in disbelief.

"Are they suspecting us?" Sunghoon asked.

"Mm," she simply replied, stroking Jake's hand around her waist now. The members panicked a little. "I don't know... I just found out today and they said they don't mind as long as I don't reveal it."

"Then what's the issue?" she leaned against Jake with a sigh.

"Pressure, really. It kinda feels like I have to work harder," the guys all let out an 'eyyy'.

"You're an amazing stylist, noona. You should look at the comments our fans post! They've been really loving our outfits since you were hired!" Jay rubbed Della's shoulder.

"How is a stylist able to work harder anyway?" Jungwon muttered. "If anything, we should work harder," everyone chuckled at his comment.

"Thank you, guys. Sorry about that- ACK!" she squealed when Jake nuzzled his face into her neck. "That tickles!" she tried to release herself from him.

"Don't go! Sorry, sorry!" Jake pulled her back and chose to nuzzle into her shoulder instead. "I'm pleasantly surprised that the company let it go that easily."

"We've been in the industry for years, of course they wo-" Niki cut himself off when the door opened and everyone immediately dispersed.

"Sorry it took so long. Here are the shorts and vest."

hanseong, korea — joseon period

"Father, may I go to the festival today? They're supposed to release the lanterns tonight," Princess Dahye asked the king.

"Tonight? Darling, your mother and I have got to attend a dinner remember?" his majesty replied with a frown. "We will be able to visit tomorrow, if you wish."

"I would love to go tomorrow, but I also really want to go tonight. The lanterns only happen tonight!"

Her father hissed and placed a hand under his chin, trying to figure a solution for his daughter.

"Your majesty, may I suggest?" his royal advisor spoke.

"You may."

"Perhaps the princess may come with Lady Ahyeong while the adults have dinner," Dahye immediately tensed up.

"That's a great idea," quick- think of something. "Daughter, what do you think?"

"It is indeed a great idea but unfortunately-" she took a deep breath. "Although Lady Ahyeong and I get along well, I am a bit uncomfortable with going out alongside someone I just met once."

"So do you have another suggestion?" a mischievous grin slowly grew on her face.

❅◦❆◦❅◦❆◦❅◦❆◦❅◦❆

"Mmm!" Dahye's eyes widened at how delicious the street food was. "This is absolutely divine! Jungwon-nim! Try this!"

The princess had convinced her father to let her off on her own- of course, with a few conditions that she proposed herself.

She would be disguised as a simple villager. Absolutely no riches and luxury will be seen on her. She would even go by the name of 'Dasom' to avoid suspicion.

She would also be assisted by a group of guards to completely ensure her safety.

And those guards are the ones who  always get assigned to her.

"Wahh, it's really soft," Jungwon told his friends.

"Ah really?" Sunoo raised his eyebrows with interest.

"Do you wanna try?" Dahye held up the food again.

"No no, it's yours," he shook his hand.

"Do you think we should move a little closer to everyone else?" Jongseong held a lantern on his hand. 

The group decided to sit on the grass a little further away from where the majority would raise their lantern.

"Here should be fine- give me that," Jaeyun reached for the lantern. "Usually people will write their wishes or the person they're in love with before letting go," he took out a small brush from his pocket.

"That's so cute! That's so romantic!" Dahye got even more excited.

"You wanna write your wishes?" Heeseung patted her head from behind.

"Something like that," she turned her head to look at him.

"Do you have ink though?" Jongseong asked Jaeyun.

"Should we use blood?" Sunoo giggled.

"Noo!" everyone else whined.

"Just use the sauce from the rice cakes!" Chulsoo referred to the stick on Dahye's hand.

"We don't have enough of it," Jungwon pointed.

"Let's buy more and ask for extra sauce," Heeseung proposed.

"Good idea. Sunghoon-nim!" Sunghoon's eyes widened when Dahye said his name. "Please get us two more rice cakes, my love," she handed him the coins while batting her eyelashes.

"Why do I have to do it?" he mumbled under his breath but did what was told anyway.

Once the guard returned, the seven boys watched as Dahye dipped the brush in the sauce before writing on the lantern.

"What do you plan on writing?" Jaeyun practically whispered, almost afraid to be asking.

"You'll see," she muttered.

The writings slowly got together and her 'plan' became apparent.

"Our names," Chulsoo breathed out.

"Do you think it looks okay?" Dahye finished with the last stroke before leaning back to look at it as a whole.

"It's perfect," the seven guards said in unison.

"We should light it up now," Jongseong pointed at the other lanterns, seeing how they were now all lit up.

Everyone all stood up, placing one hand on the lantern. Jongseong took the match included with it and lit the bottom up.

"Five, four, three, two, one!" they heard the crowd count down, releasing once they reach one.

They all silently watched at the beautiful floating lights that adorned the night sky.

"It's so beautiful," Dahye muttered, feeling arms wrap around her waist in a back hug.

"Nothing can compare to her highness' beauty," Jungwon whispered in her ear and placed a kiss on her shoulder.

Their love story will end in tragedy, they can all feel it. 

A relationship between a princess and a commoner itself was absurd, let alone a reverse harem with seven. Their romance was forbidden with absolutely no way around it.

Yet they let themselves hurt anyway, with pleasant moments like these to cherish and hold onto.

'Maybe we'll be together comfortably, in another life.'

requested: — nonidol!della — della as sooha — della in txt

taglist! @afiaaaa19 @riikiblr @one16core @i90snoo @danyxthirstae01 @seulgifted @clar-iii @hiqhkey @nichmeddar @jiwlys @duolingofanaccount @nvmbheart [@studioreader @sarang-wonie @fairydosii @hoonstrology @jaetint @4sahii @8-itsmee-8 @toriluvsfics]

#kang della #8th member of enhypen #enhypen 8th member #enhypen ff #enhypen reactions #enhypen scenarios #enhypen x oc #enhypen added member #enhypen eigth member #enhypen female addition #enhypen female member #enhypen oc #kpop added member #kpop oc #enhypen female oc #enhypen imagines #enhypen poly fic #enhypen poly

[riddle-me-ri]

Heya, Ri! Could I request something fluffy for the BTAS Hatter hedge maze date? I can’t stop thinking about it after the conversation in the server. :’D

Hope you’re having a lovely day! 💚

A/N: AAAAHHHHH YES YOU ABSOLUTELY CAN. I’ve been so excited to get a request from you hehe, if that’s not too weird to say lmao. I love doing requests for my mutuals and I’ve always wanted to fulfill a request for you! And for it to be such an adorable idea…I couldn’t say no…omg this is so cute, I haven’t stopped thinking about the scenario in my head either lmao (also this is a x reader, but like Jervis mostly refers to y'all as March Hare, more so in spirit of Marchie hehehe but it still works!)

Also, also still working on header stuff don’t mind me rip, but I am still stupid proud of this screengrab I took of Jervis from that character shot in The Worry Men episode.

Trigger Warnings: just an obtuse amount of fluffy sweetness

Word Count: 1.6 k

BTAS Mad Hatter x Reader - Maze Date Craze

There truly was never a dull moment with Jervis. 

Even if you too fancy a night in and some reading or watching a film, he somehow still managed to make you laugh until your sides hurt or he made you think somehow outside of the box.

The same especially went for dates when you were out on the town. 

“Where are you taking me, Jervis?” You giggled, confused but excited all the same. 

“It’s a surprise, my dear. You’ll know what it is soon enough.” He chuckled at your enthusiasm. 

You looked up as you two passed the opened gates to Gotham City Gardens. You gasped when you two approached the entrance to a large hedge maze. 

“I-Is…is this a maze?” 

“Indeed it is. Would you like to uhh…perhaps explore it with me?” He took off his hat and slightly bowed to the side, allowing you to enter first. 

You beamed happily, always ever the gentleman. You hooked your arm through the one that was tucked behind him and slightly dragged him with you through the maze opening. 

“I’d love nothing more, Jervis! Let’s do it!” 

You don’t think you could ever do a maze by yourself. You could maybe count on one hand a few people you could depend on to complete a maze with. 

One of the main people being Jervis, but then again, you wished you could spend every and any waking moment with him anyway. Aside from just that, he was the best with these whimsical mazes and puzzles. They always sort of spoke to him in a way…especially to a certain theme.

"Oh Jervis, this is perfect, it's like the maze was made for us! It's designed like Wonderland!" 

It truly was Wonderland inspired. Every now and then down a certain passage there were portraits of iconic Wonderland characters. 

Alice, Queen of Hearts, the Caterpillar, the Cheshire Cat, the Walrus, and Carpenter…

"Look, it's you!" You giggled.

The iconic pencil illustration of the Mad Tea Party was displayed in front of you. Your finger pointed at the Mad Hatter on the far right. 

Jervis came up behind you and smiled warmly. He put his hands on your shoulders and leaned his head down beside your ear. He pointed over to the March Hare. 

"And there's you, darling." 

You snuggled your head closer to his as you giggled in delight. 

"Although, I must say," you grabbed his hands and turned around to face him. 

You pulled him in closer to you, hands strongly clasped together. Your faces were inches apart. You leaned in close, pressing your nose against Jervis'. 

"My Hatter is far more handsome." You sealed the compliment by softly rubbing your nose side to side against his; a bunny kiss. 

Jervis didn't think he could ever fall in love with you more, but yet you continue to make him fall deeper and deeper, time and time again. 

He absolutely adored you, and he hoped he was able to show it every day…and especially today. 

You two continued through the maze hand in hand. Along with portraits and decorations of Wonderland strewn about. There were also little cards that stood out from the hedges.

"I don't recall collecting things as part of mazes…" You pondered as you looked at the card. They felt oddly thicker than most cards but you figured it was to make them last through the environs. 

"Well perhaps this isn't an ordinary maze…we should collect more of them," Jervis suggested and you ultimately agreed.

It'd be a neat little momento if anything else. 

Jervis helped hold the cards for you in his suit jacket pocket for the meantime. Your hands should be busy holding his hand anyway.

You were adamantly by Jervis' side as you depended on him to reach the end. However, after a couple twists and turns you couldn't help but feel certain plants and bushes looked oddly familiar. 

"Jervis…" 

"Yes, darling?" 

"I feel like we're going in circles…?" 

"Huh, really?"

"Yes…I…I recognize that red rose bush…and that broken hole in the bush.." You look up at him. 

Jervis was sheepishly looking off to the side. Eyes moving every which way but at you.

"Jervis..have you been taking us around in circles?" You asked lightheartedly. 

He bit his lip slightly, before ultimately sighing. "I'm afraid so, darling." He chuckled embarrassingly. 

"But why?" You asked, more confused than upset. 

He hummed. "I am guilty of slightly leading us astray but…only because I just…" his face started getting redder now. 

You put your hand on his warm cheek, bringing his eyes to look at your own. You smile up at him but don't say anything, silently encouraging him to continue. 

"...I just wanted to spend more time with you alone…lost and alone with you…holding my hand." He muttered his confession. 

Your heart skipped a beat, as if this man couldn't be anymore endearing. 

"You could've just told me, Jervis! I would love to stroll through the maze with you." You smiled sweetly as you tightened your arms around him. 

"Oh, if it were up to me it would never end, but there is another…surprise to come for you at the end…"

"But Jervis this maze was a lovely surprise enough…how can there be more?" 

He grabbed your hand that was on his face and kissed the palm of it. "There's always a possibility for more when it comes to you, my love." 

This time when Jervis took your hand and took the lead, you actually started making headway. 

This made you realize something else…

“Wait, Jervis!” 

You knew he was good at these kinds of puzzles, but not…not this good. 

“All will make sense soon, my beloved. Just follow me!” 

Curiouser and curiouser. 

You continued to follow him until you finally reached the end. When the two of you exited the maze, you noticed a quaint little round table with a red cloth over it. On the table a teapot, saucers, cups, and tiny finger delicacies were strewn about. The table was set for two. 

“Y-You did all of this, Jervis? H-How? When?” You slowly approached the table, almost uncertain whether or not to disturb the beautiful set-up. 

Jervis followed closely behind you as you took it all in. “I did…well with some…uhh…outside assistance.”

Surely mind control for non-illegal purposes wasn’t a crime? 

Jervis quickly went around you, and pulled out one of the seats for you to take a seat. You gratefully accepted as you still tried to wrap your mind around this revelation. 

“So…the maze, the pictures…and the cards..”

“Oh yes,” he got down on one knee in front of you and handed the cards to you. “They’re envelopes, open them…”

That explains their weird thickness.

You gasped when you opened the first card, you were close to tears as you kept opening the next few. They were all pictures either of you or you and Jervis together. Smiling, kissing, laughing, you remember the exact moment each of these was taken.

“Oh my goodness, Jervis…this is the sweetest—” 

You put the pictures down on the table to embrace him, but you were speechless at what you saw next. 

Sitting there in his palm, was a diamond ring. 

You tried to gulp down the nerves and the tears that were starting to rise. “J-Jervis…”

He chuckled sheepishly, removing his top hat. “A-All my life, I’ve been waiting for someone…to love me for me. For the longest time I thought I was incapable of finding that someone…that like Wonderland…it was all a hopeless fantasy…” 

The tears began to slowly creep out from your eyelids, as your hand covered your mouth, taking in every word he said, waiting for your moment to answer him. 

“...but I found you, and I’m so grateful every day that I get to spend another day with you. Every day I get to love you, my darling March Hare, is a day I believe more and more that my Wonderland doesn’t have to be a fantasy…it can be a reality but only if you’re in it…will you join me? W-Will you marry me?” 

“Yes! Yes, Jervis yes!” You hoped he made out your answer in between your excited squealing. You jumped out of your seat and embraced him tightly as you knocked him off his knees. 

Jervis laughed fullheartedly, as he wrapped his arms around you. He took a deep sigh of relief, although he knew deep down you wouldn’t say no…he was always aware of that possibility. 

Even when you let up on your embrace, it wasn’t enough. You were so overcome with love and affection for him, you weren’t sure what action to do next. Jervis took the moment of pause to slip the ring onto your finger. 

You looked down on it and smiled widely. “It’s perfect…” You looked back up at Jervis. “You’re perfect, Jervis…this was…I-I can’t even begin to describe it all…” 

Jervis kissed your temple. “You don’t need to say anything, beloved. Your reactions speak louder than any words. And your darling smile is worth more than any compliment.” 

Jervis propped himself up off the ground, but not without offering your hand up as well. You happily took his hand, but not without grabbing his top hat as well for your ascension.

You gently placed the hat back on his head, tentatively turning it backwards and forwards, left and right to make sure it was back in it’s proper place. He chuckled softly as he grabbed your hands back down in front of his face and kissed along your knuckles. 

You giggled at the sensation as you leaned your face closer to his. He met your face halfway as your lips finally met in a deep sweet kiss. 

After years of lonesome solitude, and almost giving up on the possibility…The Mad Hatter had finally found his March Hare. 

Wonderland was no longer just a fleeting fantasy, it was a glorious, loving, and sweet reality for the both of you.  

#ri writes #btas mad hatter x reader #btas jervis tetch x reader #ilysm marchie #you're the best! #I hope this provides you comfort whenever you need it most! #still so glad you requested something from me #I'm gonna miss having this in my inbox rip #march🐰

[dragonanddirewolf]

(Sneakily sharing lineart of my next piece! It’s actually ready to post but I’m spreading out the joys 😉 )

Thanks so much for the tag @cheesy-cryptid !

fandom tag game credit –> @dances-and-dolly-dresses

Were you an Austin, Baz or Elvis fan before seeing the movie? How about after?

100% Baz Luhrmann fan. I loved Romeo and Juliet, Moulin Rouge and Great Gatsby (my personal favourite). He was the reason why I went to see the movie (and knowing that Måneskin recorded a version of ‘If I can dream’!).

I always liked Elvis’ music but knew nothing about his life really so I went in pretty blindly

What is/are your favorite look(s) that Austin sports in the film?

Oh man there are SO many. I love his original pink and black suit, the black leather outfit in ‘68 come back and the black lace shirt with high waisted cream trousers. Those are my top three but, as a special extra, I must mention the silk printed shirt and chain belt he wears during the Vegas rehearsal 🤤

Most memorable scene or line?

Soooo many. I loved the whole Trouble performance so much and I think the bit where he sings ‘Glory glory’ in the opening sequence is one of the most powerful cinematic experiences I’ve ever had

But my absolute favourite must be the initial bit where Colonel meets Elvis. The way they shot that with only showing Elvis from behind and then the big reveal at the end. I thought it was so beautifully done.

Favourite (sad) quote : Daddy, I’ve been playing this mausoleum for a hundred years how are we broke?

What are your top 3 favorite songs on the soundtrack?

Baby let’s play house

Trouble

If I can dream

How many times have you seen the film in theaters?

Five. I bought an unlimited cinema card especially for this purpose. I’m still planning to come back next week 🙈

What kind of fan content do you like to create/consume? (fics, gifs, ect)

Fanart! I’ve been drawing for different fandoms throughout the years but now I’m a full Elvis/Austin convert

Wherabouts in the world are you from? (be as general or as specific as you’re comfortable with)

I’m from the UK 🇬🇧

Are you active in other fandoms? If so, which one(s)?

I’m still relatively active in the Jonerys fandom (GoT)

List 3 fun facts about yourself/your interests.

I have drawn over 300 Jonerys illustrations in a space of two years and the following year I posted a finished drawing every day on Instagram for 6 months. I like to draw 🤣

I love historical romance novels- Philippa Gregory is my favourite

I have a gorgeous white fluffy cat called Bobby

Unfortunately I’m very new to the fandom so haven’t made many friends yet! Please feel free to take part if you feel like it 😊

#Elvis 2022 #tag game #get to know me #elvis movie

[eldritch-thrumming]

Hi sweetie here are some q's for your fic author ask game!

3 10 14 17 19 29 30: Is there a fic,written by someone else, that you would love to do a remix of? What is it and why?

:) :) :) :) :) :)

3. What’s your favorite fic that you’ve written? "sorry about the blood in your mouth (i wish it was mine)" & "i can't let go when something's broken" are my two favorites :3 (and maybe also the kiki's delivery service au, that one was just so fluffy and cute and sparkly)

10. Is there a fic that got a different response than you were expecting? i'm surprised by how many people really seem to love "when i don't touch you" tbh! the mechanics/worldbuilding is vague at best in my opinion and i leave a lot of stuff ambiguous because i just wanted to tell this story of missing someone and needing them and fate and destiny. i am always surprised & very very grateful for the compliments that fic receives!

14. If you could see one of your fics adapted into a visual medium, such as comic or film, which fan fic would you pick? i wrote "sorry about the blood in your mouth" constantly thinking about how it would look if it was being filmed. that one is my most cinematic, i think!!

17. What’s something you’ve learned about while doing research for a fic? the last vcr was sold in 2016 :)

19. Give us a small teaser from one of your WIPs. from chapter 2 of "oh my, love is a lie":

Steve taps on the pink highlight around Eddie’s profile picture. It looks like Eddie uses his instagram stories like a diary, posting his various thoughts throughout the day. The first story is a poll: “Would you fuck Jeff Bezos to end global warming?” Steve doesn’t vote. The next three stories are just memes. The next slide is a picture of a bowl of soup with the words “good soup” and after that is a picture of Chrissy’s cat with the caption “this eldritch creature lives in my house.” The last slide shows the results from the original poll, an overwhelming amount of people having apparently voted “no” on Jeff Bezos. Eddie’s added the words “dang, can’t believe how selfish you all are.” That makes Steve laugh, just a little. 

Steve shuts off the screen on his phone and sets it down on his bedside table. He takes off his glasses and rubs at his eyes, yawning. Then, he reaches over and turns out his light, before sliding down under his covers and falling asleep.

29. Share a bit from a fic you’ll never post OR from a scene that was cut from an already posted fic. (If you don’t have either, just share a random fic idea you have that you don’t plan on getting to.) a scene cut from "sorry about the blood in your mouth":

“Max,” Eddie says, cautiously. “Is there something bothering you?” 

“No,” she snaps, still not turning to look at him. She’s torn between wanting him to go away and wanting to tell him exactly what she thinks right now. 

“Max… I know you’re feeling angry right now. Is it because Steve left? I know that you feel better when he’s around and—“

“What, you think Steve is, like, my emotional support dog or something?” She can’t keep the anger out of her voice, even though she’s really trying. “Yes, I love having him around because I love him and he’s one of my best friends. I don’t need him here to do my job. This isn’t Steve’s fault, by any stretch of the imagination.”

“Okay,” Eddie responds and she can hear some confusion in his voice. Max finally turns to look at him and she can see his eyebrows scrunching up as he furrows his brow. She can’t help but wonder how it’s possible for one man to be so deeply and irreparably stupid?

“I’m mad at you, asshole,” she finally admits, jabbing her pointer finger into Eddie’s chest.

“Me? Why?” Eddie rubs at the spot on his chest where she’d just poked him.

“Because!” She throws up her hands. “How is it possible for you to be so fucking stupid? For ten whole years!”

“Huh?” Eddie’s confused frown deepens.

“Jesus Christ, Eddie. Who do you think this story is about?”

“The story? Of the movie? Uh. Lucy is you, Max. I wrote her for you.”

“Lucy isn’t me,” she says, like it’s obvious. “I’ve been madly in love with Lucas since I was thirteen and I tell him so every single day. Try again.”

“But—“

“Yeah, but nothing! Eddie, what—if I’m Lucy, who’s Delilah?”

“Lucy is you and Nancy, Delilah’s El and Robin.”

Max snorts. “Okay, that’s a little funny.”

“I thought so.”

“But Lucy isn’t me and Delilah isn’t El. And neither of them are Nancy or Robin.”

“Yes, they are.”

“What—no—Eddie,” he can hear the exasperation in her voice now and now she’s talking with her hands, moving her whole body around like she does when she thinks the person she’s talking to is being a humungous moron. “You’re Lucy. Steve’s Delilah.”

“No,” Eddie says immediately.

“Um, yes! Just like you’re Ricky and Hector and Ronan and Jamie and Peter and Steve’s Brad and Tim and Adam and Martin and Matt.” She lists off the characters from his books.

“What? No.”

“Eddie, you’ve been writing a love story for you and Steve since the beginning,” Max tells him. “Aren’t you supposed to be the smart one here? Of the two of you?” Under her breath, she adds, “how is Steve the one who’s known all along?”

Eddie’s head snaps up to look at her then. “What.” It’s not a question. “What did you say?”

“I said,” Max says at a normal volume, enunciating, “How is Steve Harrington the one who’s known everything all along?”

“What does that mean?” His voice is getting increasingly desperate, pleading. “Max, what do you mean?”

Max rolls her eyes. “Steve’s been in love with you since you were twenty years old. He’s been waiting for you to figure out your shit. He’s read all your books. He’s watched you date other people and he hasn’t dated anyone. He’s waited for you, Eddie. He’s waited for you to decide what you want.”

Eddie can’t feel his hands. His feet are tingling, like they’ve fallen asleep. He can’t breathe. “He’s been waiting for me?” It comes out as a whisper.

“Yes, but…” Max trails off, looking at him with pity in her eyes. “When he left, I told him to stop waiting. I told him he deserved to be loved by someone who was brave enough to really love him.” He looks at her, an accusation in his brown eyes. “I didn’t think you were actually fucking stupid! I thought you were making a choice. I didn’t realize you really didn’t know that you could have him.” She rolls her eyes. “Didn’t he kiss you at the Golden Globes? And you left with that musician anyway. Even after that, Steve still waited. And didn’t he confess to you three nights ago? Didn’t he tell you what he wanted?” Max kind of looks like she’s on the verge of tears now and Eddie’s pretty close behind her.

30: Is there a fic,written by someone else, that you would love to do a remix of? What is it and why? oooohhhhhh, i don't know! all of my favorite fics are absolutely perfect as they are, but! i've read a kind of bring it on steddie au that i completely lost track of, but i think it would be fun to do like a real, proper bring it on au where eddie joins the team reluctantly and falls in love with head cheerleader steve. hijinks ensue. i can't think of a specific fic that i would remix tho!

thank you <3 :3

#ask game #long post #steddie #steddie fic

[angelfoodcake222]

The Lesser of Two Evils [pt. 2/?]

HERE IT IS! I hope you enjoy this & please reblog. Thank you!

[Above] Gif/Art by Clownillustrations

TW(Trigger Warning): female puppet reader, talk of murder, metamorphic aftermath & descriptions, scopophobia(-philia), fictophilia, paraphilia, & xanthophilia(-phobia).

A/N(Author's Note): This one's just a drabble & longer than the last one, but I hope you enjoy it. I focused a bit on Home's involvement in you're shaping... & I wanted to gush over 30s/70s fashion for at least a paragraph. Read on if you'd like.

Light stabbed your revivified eyes as you strained to shield your hand over them, but your appendage & its limb fell flat over your lower belly. The sound of shutters closing gave you shaded comfort. For lack of better words, your vision was fuzzy at first. You regained consciousness, submerged neck down in a bathtub filled with lukewarm water with a fluffy towel embroidered with "W.D." in coiling font folded behind your head. It took you a few winks to clear your vision but once you did, you thought you were still dreaming of your transformation.

Upon looking down, you note your lilac body was cloaked in an orange, purple-trimmed tunic dress with slight matching details & white/amber dress heels. Not long after you awoke, Darling entered the room with a far bigger towel for your whole body. It seemed even fluffier than the one you had under your head. He sees that you're awake & grins.

"Good morning, Y/N!" He beams, dipping his finger into the water, most likely to check the temperature, while you start taking stock of your novel body: not numb but not overstimulated. Decent hues. Not too bad, if you had to say so. Your eyes float to Darling's face while a smile settled onto yours. He knows your looking at him, he likes you looking at him, he's just focused on tending to you (your recently reformed body).

Soon, he helps you out of the tub & dries you off due to a lag in mobility. Now that you're dried & (partially) standing, you get to see your brilliant orange hair being pulled mindfully into a high ponytail with the green strip of textile by your darling companion before he sets his hands on your shoulders. Your eyes looked as dreamy as his but you had magenta-hued eyeshadow instead of his reds/blues & a very faint line bordering your mouth's edge to possibly signify lips. You began toing-&-froing your head as slight glimmers of what you assumed were microscopic glitter showed nicely in the lit-up mirror's reflection of you. Wally's reflection leans to your right with a smile on his cat-like face.∆

"I hope you don't mind, my darling, but I did your makeup for you. I hope you like it." He shines well in the mirror's lights, leaving you starstruck. If he hadn't known to catch you sooner, you would have swooned straight into the sink's edge.

After wringing out any excess moisture, he begins leading you to a separate bedroom within Home. It's relatively quaint; a dresser of night clothes & intimates, a vanity mirror set that doubles as a writing desk complete with a well-padded swivel stool & pastel purple rotary phone, a twin canopy bed, in-wall bookshelves of blank sketch books/diaries, & a full-on walk-in closet full of on-theme wardrobe options.

"This room is yours!" Wally spoke gleefully, gesturing you into it with an encouraging wave. "It will evolve with you the longer you stay here! & look! Home even gave you books to work in!" His bright skin shifted into a giddy smile, the smooth voice giving a honeyed tone as you began exploring your new dwelling. As you did, Home creaked to gain Wally's attention. The filming was starting soon & he needed to finish his routines. Wally bids you a good day, turning to leave while Home gives a series of creaks that he reacts to happily while carrying on to greet the Viewer at the train/bus station.

While you wait, you root around the room curiously. You had always loved the Neighbors' style, the whole "70s Kidcore" fashion, & sought to throw something together due to your secondary-hued garbs not matching. Wally did just help you into a new form, new living arrangements, new everything, so maybe you could blend in a bit better. Easier said than done. Your fleece & yarn didn't go well with anything in the entirety of the primary-hued wardrobe, even the night clothes didn't fit your shades.

Defeated & dejected, you place everything back into its places respectfully, returned to your initial garbs & flopped onto the lush bed with the lusher beddings puffing up around you. You barely noticed the low rattling of the closet & dresser until Home tumbled Its floor to draw your awareness back to the root of your downed behavior. "Home, with all due respect, I was just in there. I can't wear any of-" your words catch in your throat. "-that."

You blink in shock, seeing a totally you-themed armoire that you excitedly dance into. Tea dresses, Whoopee-style denim bodysuits, peasant blouses, day dresses, bell bottoms, house dresses, frayed jeans, midi/maxi dresses, a kaleidoscope of tie-dyed options, tunic-type garbs, headbands, scarves, & jewelry (made of wood, stones, feathers, beads that look like eyes), fitted wide lapel blazers, flared pants, sweaters, cardigans, jumpers, numerous shoe choices from casual to formal, the whole 70s shebang.

You stood there, mouth wide open & stupefied at the expansive wardrobe Home had made especially & explicitly for you. What could you do but hug the door & its frame leading to your fashion fantasies? Home gives a seemingly happy creak, rattling Its floorboards in the direction of a wall-mounted vanity far bigger & with more makeup & hair items. Oh, yeah! This'll be fun~.

~~~~~

Wally slides behind Home's front door, bidding the viewers a good day while breathing a sigh of relief after the door clicks shut. Home cheerfully welcomes him & gets his attention, leading him up the stairs & into the doorway of [Y/N]'s room. He's confused yet trusting of the structure he's come to trust in his relatively short life. Once he reaches his destination, he was unsettled to find the room empty of his newest companion until the dual closet doors snapped open, giving you a much-obliged path for you to twirl out of.

Your high bun was held up by your bow-tied textile, orange-based peasant blouse, love beads, bracelets, a dark purple, full skirt complete with a light purple, cutesy poodle detail, frilled white socks, & the shoes you came into your new life with. You only noticed him when you stopped twirling for a second. He's just there, gazing at you.

"Home made me some new clothes." you chuckle shyly. "What do you think? Is it too much?" Your hand moves to dust off nonexistent filth from your skirt's front & sides as Wally stares on, only answering when Home gave a robust creak. The sound was most likely Its way of snapping Wally from his trance. "You look dynamite! It fits you so well!" His slightly raised vocals & bright smile are contagious, spurring you to look over your shoulder to the full-length mirror hanging within your view.

The rest of your day was spent being taught how to behave around others outside of Home's walls & Wally's gaze, should the need arise. For instance, say an episode calls for Wally to be away in the Neighborhood while you sit all alone in Home. You'd like to be out & about like any sane person/puppet. If you do leave, you'd have to change into something akin to Wally's apparel but feminine. Blouse, skirt, all that. You can keep the hair tie though. What to say, what not to say, both needed to not cause any unfavorable attention to you by anyone.

You listen intently, scribbling into one of your books you had labeled "Behavioral Know-how", as Wally speaks next to you at the kitchen table. Somehow, your pen hadn't run out of ink yet with all the writing you were doing. Wally pauses, giving a small, robotic chuckle as you lift your head with a furrowed brow. With a smooth movement, he boops your tongue's tip that had poked out in your bit of concentration.

"You're so cute like this~." Had his voice dipped? You hadn't noticed due to flustering into hour hands. Wally gives his odd laugh while you tried to recompose yourself. The sweet scene was seemingly untainted by the fact that, while the Viewers were distracted by a couple of skits that didn't feature him, Wally slithered off to handle some of those bullies from the night before.

He was still upset at the sight of you, frightened half to death, crumbled at Home's doorstep, nearly being punished for the heroic deed you had done to keep his dearest friends safe & unsullied. It made his stuffing feel like kindling & his fleece shift heatedly. Once he found the first few Home had described for his mental list, he made sure to keep out of the splatter distance when he blinked at them.

The lesson ends & Wally escorts you to your room with that warmly odd demeanor of his. You ask an extra question or two about the dos & don'ts of your new life, suppressing yawns as you did, while he patiently answered them. You were strangely eager to adapt to his life, but he couldn't be happier than right now. You were on his arm, sleepily talking of a life you wholeheartedly planned on living with him while content to be a side or background character, planning to have a building of your own to the side; something the Neighborhood doesn't have yet.

By the time the two of you reach your room, Home had somehow laid out night clothes for you. Two-piece men's set & a classy silk gown were your options. You vanish behind the privacy of your closet's doors while you tossed ideas around about the new building concept until Wally mentions the lack of blooms around the Neighborhood. You sprung from the closet, second wind shortly blasting through you, as you suggest a floral set up. "A flower shop!" you squeak excitedly. Wally laughs, amused by the sudden burst of energy, before agreeing to the idea.

You tuck yourself in, nuzzling into the warm bed as your companion strolls to your bedside with a soft smile adorning his face. "Sleep tight, [Y/N]. Tomorrow may not be your debut, but soon the time will come. Nighty night~." His vocals lull you to sleep as images of the flora-clad shop danced in your mind; brilliant blooms, radiant roses, beautiful Bergenias, & breathtaking bundles of bouquets all twirled in your dreams as sleep graced your novel form.

Not too far from the Neighborhood, somewhere in the vast studio, three men's bodies were hidden carefully so as to not be found. They lay on the grimy floor with whole halves & massive hunks 'bitten' from their bodies, taken slowly until each target passed due to blood loss or vital pieces of themselves vanishing, both sending them into shock & leaving them helpless against the beast that committed the most horrid act. Three down, eight to go...

There it is! I'll be working on pt.3/? soon! Leave your favorite blooms/herbs/plants in the comments & I'll try to fit them in somewhere.

Likes are nice, but reblogs are better!

#writers on tumblr #reader insert #fanfiction writer #oc art #welcome home wally darling #wally darling #welcome home wally #wally darling x reader

[junkseries]

Ask Game: List 5 things that make you happy, then put this in the askbox for the last 10 people who liked or reblogged something from you! get to know your mutuals and followers :3

Five things, let's see... Cats - Have two loverly gents who's soon to be 10 years old come September 13th (wouldn't be for another 3 months that they'd come stay with me so I could do a double celebration, not every day you turn 10). They're a blend of Maine Coon and what I'm guessing is your run of the mill house cat. They must have taken from their dad the most, but just look at my two red fluffy butts!

Also I just love cats in general, they're such wonderful animal companions.

Listening to soundtracks - finding those tracks that was never released officially, or hard to come by, and then being absolutely obsessed for weeks at a time. Always gravitate towards soundtracks when I don't know what to listen to, or don't want to listen to music with someone singing to just let my brain get some quiet time from voices. Building - Been spending an awful lot of time building in TS4, wish I had more time for it tho as I absolutely love trying to recreate real buildings or imagining my own and steadily progress and become better. I have briefly thought of taking some of my earliest builds down from the gallery, but nah, it's fun having those to look back on - no matter how hideous they are to me today, I felt absolutely elated building them back then. (MorbidNeeds) Crafting - Love all things sewing, crafting, painting as part of my BJD hobby. I can never have too much fabric, too much ribbon, too much lace, too many beads, buttons, needles, sequins, seedbeads, pearls, tools... I have so many little bits and pieces collected because I can see them being of use down the line. Physical media - Absolutely love to collect and own my films, music and books as much as I can afford every now and again. Does it take up space? Yes. Does it spark joy? Abso-fucking-lutely yes!

#almost all forgot about this one #every time i remembered i instantly forgot all about it when i sat down in front of my pc #junkseries replies

[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.”

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 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

#btscreatorscorner #castlebangtan #bts #bts hybrid au #bts x reader #jungkook x reader #jimin x reader #namjoon x reader #seokjin x reader #yoongi x reader #hoseok x reader #taehyung x reader #poly!bts #poly!bts x reader #bts poly au #bts fanfic #bts scenarios #bts angst #bts hurt/comfort

[positivityforlesbians]

It's so discouraging that when I type "boys love" or gay kiss or whatever I get mostly cute, endearing, interesting, playful and fun content but when I want to see the same fluffy stuff with women and search for "girls love" or "lesbian" there's either something very old that everybody has already seen that ends in tears, or some new completely soulless TV relationship of two extremely fem women with 0 chemistry or, most often, just incredibly unsexy porn-ish content. When I search for "butch" it gives me people's cats named Butch, ruby rose and men. Definitely NOT what I'm looking for 😭 there's gay bars, for gay men, and there's LGBT bars for basically everyone, but no lesbian bars. There's grindr but no genuine app for lesbians (and no I don't consider Her bc let's be real there's less "I like women!" and more "here's my political agenda")

I'm so jealous of straight girls for having a mountain of cute unrealistic gay romances to choose from and I'm jealous of gay men for having a strong community with like, at least a language that makes it easier to find what you are looking for.

I love loving women but I feel like we're such a disadvantaged group in every department.

aI understand the discouragement as it is really a problem that we face and that gay men don't experience anywhere near as much as we do. We often talk about the invisibilisation of lesbians among the larger l(gbt) community, it's obviously also a reality with straight people and the tools they made for the general public (straight men being most of those working behind the Google search engines and such). It's unfair but there's ways to fight that, it's always about us working to undo the bullshit and create our own spaces. In 2019 in France lesbian activists won for the first time the battle against Google and now when we type the word in French ("lesbienne") porn results are not on the first page, we don't easily find hyper-sexualised pictures on the images section either and it's just a radical change compared to before. I believe this can be achieved in each country, as usual when it comes to women we have a constant fight going on to be represented like normal human beings and not creatures only there for the gratification of men.

It's possible, we can own the narrative, including our tv shows/films/books having butches and masculine or gnc women who love women, it's just that our community is not just a group of women who share our love for women, we also have to be political so that we are seen and heard exactly for who we are. 💕

Here's a wholesome photo I found when typing our beautiful word on Google, it's in France, April 2021, for lesbian visibility day.

#anonymous #my answers #lesbians #lesbian safe #lesbian herstory #lesbian positivity #around the world

[t-o-m-hollands]

Summary: You travel to meet Tom who is away filming. Since he is sharing a house with Harrison who is expected back at any second you have to make a decision; be quick - or quiet?

Pairing: Tom x female reader

Word count: 2,3 k

Warnings: Extended warnings under read more - but this is smut and strictly +18. 

Notes: This is sort of set in the same universe as The Bet just a few months later - BUT you do not have to have read that story to read this one, since there is literally zero plot in this. PWP, like truly. There isn’t even a hint of plot. A liiittle bit corny/fluffy. Also, they are both idiots, like I cannot stress this enough, they are both so dumb. 

Also I am once again staying up too late to write smut while tipsy. It is what it is. 

Extended warnings: Unprotected sex in established relationship. Little bit of stripping from Tom. Some teasing. Talk about bondage but no actual bondage in this. Spanking. Hand around throat; though no choking. Derogatory language.

You fall through the door and into each other’s arms and it would have been romantic if he had managed to catch you as you lounge at him and remain standing on his feet. As it is, you both tumble over and fall to the ground.

“Tom, for god’s sake!”

“Oh hush! At least you landed softly on my chest! I took the hard hit!”

“Babe, there’s nothing soft about your chest and we both know it”. 

But by this point his lips have been removed from yours for too long and so instead of arguing he pulls you in for a kiss, deep and raw and hungry, his hands in your hair pulling you closer towards himself; closer, closer and closer still. Your hair is loose and your lips are bitten and wet from his kisses and his jeans feel uncomfortable tight over the crotch. Your so fucking beautiful and for a moment he thinks about just fucking you right here and now; on the hard  wooden floor of the hallway, surrounded by a mess sneakers, umbrellas and Wellington boots. He’d fuck you quick and hard and fueled up on lust Or perhaps make it to the dining room table and bend you over that; your beautiful ass in the air and his fist in your hair. Or maybe up against the hall, your legs wrapped around his waist as he fucks into you.

But the threat of Harrison returning any moment feels very real indeed, even as you’re on top of him, rubbing yourself against him like a cat in heat. Groaning at what he has to do he lays his hands on the sides of your hips, making you stop your grinding. Pushing you upward you soon take the hint and stand up, pulling you with him and honestly, he was going to lead you into the bedroom - honestly, he was. But you look at him and bite your swollen lip, still wet from kisses and suddenly you’re pushed up against the wall, your lips back where they should always be; on him. 

He’s hard as a rock; has been since he picked you up at the airport. On the drive back to the house the studio has rented for him and Haz while they’re filming your hand never left his lap, just kept stroking and stroking his dick. You had offered to give him a blowjob and honestly, he’d lie if he said he wasn’t considering it. But just the thought of your mouth around his dick after months spent apart has him seeing stars. He would never have been able to concentrate on the road if that happened. That and the fact that he had been able to think about nothing else than coming inside your warm cunt for weeks now.

“We gotta be quiet babe, Haz will be back soon” he says, in between urgent kisses, his hand over your breast; playing with your nipple through the fabric. “Think you can be quick?”

“Honey, I didn’t travel for eight hours to be quick.”

“Fine, then you’ll have to be quiet” and before  you have time to respond he takes hold of your thighs and he lifts you up in the air. You fall forward, bending over his shoulder, and he slaps your ass as he walks over to the bedroom. Somewhere on the way you drop your ballerina flats but he keeps walking. You half-laugh, half-protes the entire way there, kicking your legs and ordering him to put you down. When he reaches the bed he does and you fall down on it; landing with your back against the soft mattress. 

Your gorgeous legs are spread and so much skin visible in your short jeans shorts; his white dress shirt that you have burrowed tucked into the hem. You bite your lip again and look up at him through your lashes, knowing very well the effect it has on him. 

Well, two can play that game.

Looking you right in the eye he brings his hands to the hem of his shirt and slowly lifts it, revealing the muscles underneath. Pulling it over his head he throws it on the clean ground; having taken the time yesterday to clean up the mess of the house before your visit. He kicks off his shoes and then, smiling wickedly at your wide eyes, he places his hands on his belt, slowly unfastening it.

You reach out to touch him but he reprimands you. “Nah-ah, don’t think so darling. Take off your shirt.”

To his endless surprise; you do what you're told. Unbuttoning your shirt and discarding it on the floor you smile up at him. You aren’t wearing a bra. 

“You traveled all the way here like that?” He asks in disbelief; and now it is he who wants to reach out his hands and touch you. 

“I don’t like the thought of them seeing my bra in those scanner things at the airport” you shrug. 

“So…” and he rubs his forehead, not knowing what else to do with himself “so you decided it was better to just not wear anything?”

You shrug again, unfaced. “Look, I’m not saying my logic makes sense but-”

“Seems a stretch to call it logic then, doesn’t it?”

“Tom” you whine, “I love you, but just remove your fucking pants and shove your dick in me already!”

And so he moves his hands to the zipper of his jeans, where a bulge is clear to see. Still smiling he slowly drags it down before shoving his trousers over his hips, letting them fall to the ground. Stepping out of them he kicks them to the side; leaving him just in his boxers which he swiftly removes as well. 

Standing in front of you, completely naked, as you stare at his body with fervent hunger and blazing need makes him feel almost invincible. 

“Take off your shorts” he orders and it surprises him how low and lustful his voice sounds, even to his own ears.

Again you do as he says and he stares at you as you slowly reveal more of the beautiful skin of your body. He wonders if you feel as adored when he looks at you as he does when you look at him. He hopes you do. 

You remove your underwear as well, laying back against the bed to shimmy out of them. He takes a step forward, grabs hold of your ankles as you dangle them in the air. Placing himself in between them he takes one of your uplifted legs and he kisses the soft inside of your calf. 

“Gonna tie these up one day” he says and kisses your skin again. “Tie them up and tease you for hours. Really take my time and drag it out until you’re shaking and breathless and so desperate to come all you can say is ‘please, Tom’”.

He hears how your breath picks up, and can practically sense you growing wetter. Your eyes are glossy with want already. 

Reaching down to your core he slips a finger in you with ease. He snickers. “I’ve barerly even touched you and you’re already this wet?”

Since you can’t deny it you buck your hips up for more instead. He bends down and kisses the tender skin above your ribs with an open mouth. It’s soft and sweet and in sharp contrast from the finger moving inside you; that is all rough and quick movements. 

Moving up he places his wet mouth around one of your nipples and you writhe underneath him, your legs hugging onto his waist. Sucking on the sensitive flesh, gently nippling down on it, he then blows cold air on the wet spot and you moan, bucking up against his hand; that is still moving in and out of you. 

“More” you demand in another moan, and you lift your hips up, holding yourself up by your legs around his waist, pressing yourself against him 

“This is why you should be tied up,” he says, biting your nipple again. You moan and continue to push yourself against him. 

He leans back, grabs a hold of your hips, and twists you until you fall over on your stomach. He spanks your ass, hard; one time, two times, three times, four times. Two on each side. It only has you writhing all the more underneath him. 

He squeezes the soft flesh of your ass in his hands and groans. Moving his hands over your lower back, pressing his palms in almost as if massaging you. Your body is tense, but he knows your body well, knows its because of anticipation for what’s to come. Slowly he removes his big hands from your back, instead slowly dragging his short-nailed finger up over your spine. He watches in fascination as you shower beneath him. 

While he was away filming he had bought a guitar. Had practised the instrument for hours trying to make it play him the perfect sound. But as he drags his finger up your spine again and you whimper he knows that your body is the only instrument he wants to perfect.

“Ready?” He asks.

“Yes” you say, a little breathlessly. 

And again his palm connects with your skin, the sound of skin slapping against skin loud in the empty house. Again and again and again he does it. You squirm beneath him, gasping and moaning and clasping at the sheets; pushing back against his palm, eager for more. He spanks you until your skin feels warm, so he moves his hand in soothing circles over the tender place as you breathe out a sigh. 

“Come here” he says, and his voice is gruff and tender with need for you. Pulling you up towards him until you back is pressed against his chest, your legs widely spread so your thighs are outlining his and your glistening wet cunt is pressed against his dick. 

Playing with the tip of his cock, teasing it against your entrance he whispers rasperly in your ear, “think you can be quiet?”

You look over your shoulder, meeting his eyes, and nod eagerly. 

“You sure?” he asks, continuing to tease you. “You see, Haz could come back any second now and we wouldn’t want him to hear you, would we?”

You shake your head, and god, you really must want this because you waste no time arguing with him. So he decides to reward you and slips himself into you; pulls your body even closer to yours. 

You bite your lip to hold back the moan but it slips through your lips anyway. 

He moves a hand up to your throat, places his Rolex clad wrist around it, and the other hand around your waist; guiding you up and down over his cock, as if you were bouncing in his lap. Your breasts move up and down with the movement and honestly he wishes he had more arms so that he could touch you everywhere at once. 

When another moan falls from your lips he shushes you gently in your ear, “ now, now” he warns. 

He lifts you higher up and higher up by each movement, before pressing you down harder and deeper against him 

And then you both hear it. A car driving up the driveway. 

Haz is home. 

He slams you down against him again and the ecstatic sound that leaves you is positively animalistic. He reaches for your panties, discarded on the side of the bed. Balling them up he moves it to your mouth and obligingly you open it. He shoves them in before tenderly kissing the side of your lips. Your eyes are tight shut in concentration, trying with all your might not to make a sound as you hear footsteps walking by outside. 

“Remember, quiet now” he warns, mouth pressed against your ear. 

Yet you make a deep, wanton moan and he fuck up into you even harder, grinds your hips against his until your eyes roll back in pleasure. 

“Think you like this darling” he whispers again against your ear. “Think you like the thought of maybe getting caught. Think you like knowing that this is what I’ll think of for those months we spend apart and I gotta take care of myself.” 

He pushes you up and forward, until you’re on your hands and knees for him and with one swift movement he’s inside you agains; the angle so perfect it has him seeing stars. 

“Almost made me come before I was ready there” he says and spanks your ass, though not as hard as last time. 

You're slick and wet and he can see it running down your thigh and he wants to groan in pleasure but outside he’s pretty sure Harrison is talking to the neighbor, looking for his keys. 

He pulls you up closer to him and slams into you until you're clenching around him, your skin so hot against his thighs it feels like they are on fire. He knows you love this position and its clear in your tense, arched body.

He leans down and to out of breath now to whisper he says in a hushed voice, “he’ll be inside the house soon, you gonna be quiet? Or is Haz about to find out just how slutty you are?”

Your answer is yet another moan, muffled against your panties. 

So he fucks into you; hard and fast and deep and it’s like the pleasure is everywhere; clouding his eyes from seeing clearly and stopping his lungs from breathing freely. Your toes are curled and your back is arched and it all feels so overwhelmingly and blissfully intense; so fragile and vivid and frantic it’s like neither of your body quite knows what to do with all the pleasure. Like you are both about to combust from it. 

His arms and legs are shaking with the effort and he feels sweat running down his back. But then you shake as well and he feels you convulse around him and god - it’s heaven.

It takes a while before you both return to reality. He removes your underwear from your mouth and gently kisses your lips; pulling you in close against him.

“Love you” he says and kisses the tip of your nose. “Thank you for visiting.”

#tom holland #tom holland smut #tom holland imagine #tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #tom holland fanfic

[acourtofsnakes]

A Helping Hand - Bucky Barnes x Reader (f)

(Gif: @sebastianruinedme​ )

Summary: After a stressful week, you try to wind down with some personal time but nothing quite hits that spot. And a certain Super Soldier may just be more than willing to help you. 

Warnings: 18+ Smut - Masturbation/toys, Oral (f receiving), fingering, neck play, arm/hand kink, dirty talk, a faint Dom theme if you squint, swearing – honestly, Bucky should just be a kink in himself.

Word count: 5k+ words full of hot playtime. 

A/N: This is just filth, to be honest. I was feeling a certain way after watching episode 3 of TFATWS and seeing that scene with Bucky cleaning his hand and… ideas happened, and this was born. There’s not really a plot… simply enjoy. 

Smut under the cut!!

Permanent Taglist: @greeneyedblondie44 @mamacitapascal​

Part 2

There was something to be said about the advancement of toys in recent years. 

There were hundreds of them. All different types. For all different things. 

Rabbits, waterproof vibrators, pulsating and pounding ones, ones that felt like oral, handsfree vibrators, remote control vibrators – the list went on. 

You had a lot. Tucked in a drawer of your dresser in a pretty box that just made you go all tingly in the knees every time you saw it. 

You were proud of your collection. 

And boy, did you love them. 

They never let you down, ever. 

But unfortunately, tonight was just not one of those nights. 

It has been a tough week. 

Not only had you taken a beating in training yesterday, but you were also late for an appointment across the city, which resulted in being yelled at by Fury. 

You really regretted decided to help him when he needed it. 

There wasn’t a lot going on lately, so you offered to help Fury when he needed it. 

Usually, you were on his food side. 

Yesterday, not so much. 

Everything seemed out to get you, and after the shit show of the week, you just wanted to treat yourself. So, you’d holed yourself up in your room on your floor of the compound, had a long, luxurious soak in the bath, and then decided to work out your anxiety and tension with one of your many, many friends. 

And for the first time in a while, they just weren’t hitting that spot. 

Literally. 

You groaned, throwing the third toy - this one a rabbit that was one of your most trusty companions - on the side of your bed. 

For the last forty minutes, you’d been dancing between three different toys and your fingers. 

You’d tried being on your belly, your side, and your back. You’d even tried a pillow. 

But nothing was the right pressure on your clit, no toy or finger felt deep enough inside, and you couldn’t hit that spot inside without getting a wicked cramp in your wrist that forced you to stop. 

You sat up, every nerve in your body wound to a knife edge, leaving you frustrated and tempted to throttle someone. 

Or get someone to throttle you. 

Preferably whilst pinning you to a wall... or a desk. 

Or anywhere really. 

You just needed something, anything to get out this frustration and give you the release you’d been desperately chasing all night. 

It wasn’t even a case of hovering on the edge - you couldn’t even get there. The fire and heat just stayed a kindling ember in your belly, and never reaching that explosive fire. 

After getting up and downing a measure of whiskey whilst watching the rain, you decided to try a last-ditch attempt with a different toy. 

This one was a curved vibrator, with a thicker rounder head for supposedly perfect pressure on your g-spot. 

Simple, straight forward. 

Surely, if none of the others had done it, this one finally would. 

After settling back on your bed, you took a little more care this time, even going as far to light a few candles to add an ambiance to the room rather than have it pitch black with the sounds of the rain. 

You worked yourself up this time, building it slowly, teasing yourself with brushes of your fingertips over your throat and breasts, setting your skin ablaze. 

You pushed yourself to the edge a little, and then worked over with your vibrator. 

Until ten minutes later, when you literally launched the vibrator across the room and it hit the wall with a resounding thud, that echoed your hiss of frustration.  “Fucking hell.”  

A shit week, a shit day, and you couldn’t even fuck yourself well enough to be able to wind down and get some sleep. 

There was a sudden knock and then Bucky’s voice echoed through your bedroom door. “Darlin’?” There was a slight hint of his Brooklyn accent peeping through at the end, stirring something within you. 

You startled, sitting bolt upright and your head snapped to the door, “Bucky?” You had the good sense to lock the door, but still. He was right there. 

His shadow moved beneath the door, and you realised he was leaning against it, “Is everything alright? I heard banging.” 

Well, no not really. I’ve been trying to get myself off for the last hour and nothing appears to be working and I’m sitting here naked whilst you’re the other side of my door calling me Darling in that ridiculously hot accent that shouldn’t even be that hot. But hey, apart from that, everything’s great. 

You slid off the bed, padding across the room after dropping your toys back in their drawer, glaring at it as you passed. You slipped a robe on before making your way across the fluffy rug to the door, “Yeah, I’m okay...” You unlocked the door, tugging it open. 

Bucky was leaning against the doorframe, all broad shoulders, long lines and soft smile. 

His searing blue eyes were instantly locked onto you, a smirk playing on those gorgeous lips.

He cocked his head, standing there with his arms crossed, and you noticed that for once, he wasn’t wearing any gloves. Just a simple long-sleeved T-shirt, jeans that hung sinfully close to his hips and... no boots. Just socks. 

Like he’d taken his shoes off before waking into your apartment. 

Ever the gentleman. 

His arm was bare, the soft light of the hall bouncing off of the black vibranium and sparking the gold. You’d always loved his arm. The sheer power of it, the way you’d seen it shatter a man’s ribs instantly and tear through a brick wall like it was made of glass. The same hand that tickled behind the ears of a stray kitten in Prospect Park and test the ripeness of plums at the market. 

You wanted that hand around your throat. 

Eyes the colour of the Arctic sea roamed over your body, from your slightly mussed up hair to the flush along your neck that disappeared in the dip of your dressing gown. “Mm... are you sure about that?” He tilted his coyly, a smirk playing on his lips and you had a feeling this expression had been one of the trademarks since the 40’s. 

You narrowed your eyes at him, more than aware that he was seeing far more than you wanted him to, “I’m fine.” You turned from the door, leaving it open for him to come in, “How comes you’re up on my floor, anyway?” You peered over your shoulder at him as you padded across the room to the drinks cart. 

Yes, there was a bar on your floor, but why couldn’t you have a cart in your room? Tony hadn’t even needed to ask when designing it. 

Bucky walked in, his footfalls silent like a cat, that training never quite leaving him, “I couldn’t sleep. No nightmares, just restless.” He added the last part quickly, in response to the concern that tightened your expression. 

It was nothing unusual, Bucky coming up here to your room.  

You often found each other after nightmares or rough days, seeking comfort and distraction from the darkness that lingered. 

Some days and nights, you went out, needing an outside diversion from the thoughts. 

Other times, you stayed in, watching films, talking, training or just... sitting quietly, knowing that the other persons presence was enough protection and reassurance. Words weren’t needed… just company.  

You handed him a drink, plopping down on the end of your bed and you watched him sink into the couch opposite, “Anything you wanna talk about?” 

Since everything with the War, Bucky was working on fitting back into a routine, into ‘normal’ life - or what could be considered normal for people like yourselves. 

He was undergoing his mandatory therapy sessions, and they seemed to be helping him. 

He was back in contact with Sam, and the pair even worked a few jobs together now and then, even if they did bicker like an old married couple - it provided great entertainment when you tagged along. 

He leant back on the couch, settling his left arm across the back. He always looked at home on your floor, relaxed, like his mind could shut off a little. “Nah, I’m okay... Thank you though.” He shot you an easy smile again, one that he probably hadn’t used in.... decades. “What about you? Why are you up so late?”

Mimicking his shrug, you kept your expression neutral, making sure your eyes didn’t drift to that certain drawer, “Rough week. I was reading to try and drift off.” 

“Mmmhm...” Bucky’s hummed response told you instantly that he did not believe you one bit. “What were you reading? Cosmopolitan’s best guide to toys?” That shit eating grin graced his face and he motioned gracefully with his left hand... to the corner of the room. 

The vibrator you’d launched was sitting on the floor, nestled in the rug, the soft mint green silicone practically a beacon. 

Okay. 

Okay…. So. There were two ways you could respond to this. 

Either play it off, deny it and change the subject. 

Or…

Turning back to him, you shrugged again, “Oh, I’ve read that back to front. And made a few additions myself.” You cocked your head, a faint flutter in your belly as you awaited his response. 

The barest flicker of surprise danced across his beautiful, rugged features before dissolving into something confident and smouldering. “Well, it looks to me like their guide isn’t true to review tonight. Something tells me you’re having a little bit of trouble.” His voice had begun to lower into a deeper, the natural roughness of his voice coming out. 

It stoked that fire within you, warming your blood and curling low in your belly. 

“And if I was? What would you suggest to help?” It was almost impossible to remain sitting still as the atmosphere folded and changed. There was one obvious route to your back and forth… and you wanted it. 

Wanted… him.

And if you were honest, you had for a long time now. There was just something about him that you’d always been drawn to, a simmering tension that settled whenever you were together. 

Bucky rose from the sofa in a fluid movement, walking toward you slowly, casually, but with the grace and prowl of a wolf eyeing up its next meal – you. 

And fuck, you wanted him to devour you. 

He slid his hands into his pockets, feet silent on your wooden floor, “Well… I would say that as wonderful as your toys may be… they’re just that. Toys. They can’t… feel what you like.” His eyes burned through you with each of his steps. “They don’t hear the noises you make when they hit the right spot. They don’t get to see the way your body reacts, the way your teeth sink into your bottom lip because it feels overwhelmingly good.” 

He was close enough for you to smell his cologne, and that only added to the growing wetness between your thighs as his filthy, beautiful words. 

Bucky stopped in front of you, removing his left hand and touching his fingers to your chin to tilt it up to face him, “They can’t know the little things… the deeper angle, that extra finger or sweep of the tongue… they can’t make you so wet that it runs down your thighs and they can’t make you arch off the bed as you shatter into starlight…” He sighed softly, shaking his head in mock disappointment, “I’m afraid they just… can’t make you come the way a real person could.” He applied a little pressure to the underside of your chin, and you rose to your – unsteady -  feet instantly, putty in his hands.  

Holy fuck, Bucky Barnes had a mouth on him. 

Your teeth had indeed sunk into your lower lip, and your breathing had grown shallow. It was an effort to keep your thighs firmly locked together… Because you were just as wet as he had said. 

The dark flame in his eyes told you that he knew the reaction you were having to him. He brushed a cool thumb over your lip, then tugged it gently to free it from your teeth and at the same time, he leant his head down to your level, “They can’t make you come like I can, darlin’.” This close, his warm lips brushed the shell of your ear, his voice reduced to a husky rasp that only further drew out that Brooklyn accent. 

The soft moan that left your lips was almost pitiful, but you didn’t care, “Shit.” 

You breathed the word, earning a deep chuckle in your ear before Bucky pulled back, only enough to see your face, “You want me to help you? Give you a helping hand?” His words were low and seductive, but he was looking between your eyes, making no more moves until he knew you wanted this. 

If you changed your mind, he would leave right now, and say no more about it. 

That very thought pained you. 

Something had always hovered between you both… and maybe now was the time to let it out. You shared a few kisses on nights out and he had featured heavily in your fantasies night after night, wishing your fingers were his, the toys were him….

You met his eyes, your own clear and sure and you kept that gaze as you parted your lips. Then swept your tongue along his thumb and tilted your head down just enough to take it between your lips. The vibranium was smooth, cold and it felt oddly delightful on your tongue. “Make me come, Bucky. Prove to me you’re better than the toys.” Your voice was low with need, a soft pleading note for him there as you gazed up through your eyelashes. 

The Arctic blue of his eyes deepened to near midnight, his pupils blowing out as he watched you talk around his thumb, your tongue sweeping over the metal and he almost purred, “Oh, baby, you won’t need toys when I’m done.” And then he was on you. 

He gently pulled his hand from your face, instead placing it lightly around your neck, the heavy metal settling on your collarbones and that alone drenched you. 

He looked between your eyes, checking one final time and then his mouth was lowering onto yours, his lips warm, plush and ever so inviting. Instantly, he licked a teasing line along your lips, which you would have parted for him without the request. 

Bucky’s tongue slipped past your lips, sweeping against yours in hot strokes as he explored every corner of your mouth. 

He tasted divine, and even more so when his thumb lightly tipped your chin back and he traced the tip of his tongue along the roof of your mouth, licking over the ridges and showing you exactly what that tongue could do. 

A groan left your lips, and you slid your hands up his arms to those shoulders, those gorgeous broad shoulders that all you wanted to do was dig your nails into them and use for support as you rode him. 

A deep curl of delight and joy was unfurling within the heat in your belly, because you needed this, needed more of him and his hands and his tongue and his words… and you were finally getting it

Hell, he had only just started kissing you and you already could have fallen apart just from that. 

“Why have we not been doing this all the time?” Was the only thought that your already fuzzy mind could come up with as he pulled away slowly from your lips, only to begin pressing hot, open kisses against your jaw that were all teeth and tongue. He seared a path to your neck, kissing all over until he found that particular spot that made you whimper and arch into his body. 

Bucky laughed low against your neck, the sound vibrating, “Oh, baby, you were struggling, weren’t you? I’ve barely even touched you and you’re already a mess…” He used his hand on your throat to tilt your head to the side, before biting at your skin, sweeping his tongue over the hot and sucking a deep mark there. 

A slight whine rippled in your throat, fingers pulling as his shirt and your chest pushed against his, the firm heat of him making your nipples tighten, especially when he pushed into you. 

Bucky slipped a hand between your bodies, tugging at the cord of your dressing gown and it slipped from your shoulders, leaving you bare and open to him. 

He licked down your neck, his tongue smoothing over the shape of your collarbones and then down your sternum to your breasts. He butterfly kissed the soft flesh, then almost delicately sucked at your rleft nipple, lifting his vibranium hand to squeeze the other, “So beautiful…” He mumbled it half to himself, his dark mussed up curls soft against your skin. 

One of your hands trailed up the back of his neck, slightly tangling in the hair at the base of his head and you pushed your chest further into his mouth, “Tease.” The word was a soft gasp, your eyes closing in pleasure and your lips parting. 

He chuckled, pulling back to blow a cool breath on the wet skin, watching your nipple harden and then he moved to give the other the same treatment, “Oh, I’m a tease, am I? I can stop if you like.” He grinned around the delicate skin, just slightly grazing his teeth as he tugged your nipple and then he continued his trail of kisses down your body, slowly sinking to his knees. “I don’t think you’ll ask me to stop though, darlin’.” His right hand grasped your ankle, and then he ghosted warm fingertips up your leg, past your knee and then pausing at your inner thigh, at what he felt there, “No. No I don’t think you’ll ask me to stop at all.” 

The cocky bastard grinned once more against your stomach, before dipping his tongue inside your belly button.

“Bucky…” You couldn’t hide the whimper in your voice, nor the way your hips rocked forward in a plea. It was almost painful how much you needed him to touch you, needed to feel his lips and his tongue. 

“Shhh, baby, I know.” His hands slipped up your waist, as soothing as his gentle coo against your belly button and then he brushed his lips lower and lower… and then finally, he pressed a soft butterfly kiss to your pubic bone. 

A low groan tore from his throat, his hands digging into the soft flesh of your hips as he saw you, swollen and positively dripping for him, “Oh, darlin’, look at you…” 

The sheer desire and awe in his low voice caused heat to flush along your cheekbones. You weren’t shy by any means, but the almost primal admiration in his voice was something you’d never heard before, the pure want and desire to make you feel good and worship you. 

Bucky admired the sight before him for a single moment, before lifting his eyes to yours and then he dove in, immediately devouring you like he was starving. His deft tongue slipped through your slick folds with ease, and he moaned again at your taste, at your smell, everything. 

He pressed his tongue flat against you before sucking at your clit, with such an intensity that you almost choked. It was a simple movement, but it shot electricity through your body and made every single nerve stand on end. 

He let that coil of energy begin to build, and then he licked back down, his hands sliding down to palm at your ass cheeks before digging his fingers into your skin, pulling you in further so he could bury his nose against your clit and his tongue – fuck, his tongue pushed inside of you, hot and heavy. It just felt so, so good, his nose putting pressure on your bundle of nerves, his tongue pumping inside you. 

Your hands flew down to his hair, winding through it to keep him there, keep him doing that, to keep him fucking you with his tongue, “Buck-”. You weren’t sure what you were begging him for, only that you just needed to say his name, needed to do something. 

Your hips began to rock in time with his thrusts, and you became aware of it only when Bucky’s muffled moan reverberating through you. 

He liked it, no... he loved this, that you were grinding against his face as his tongue worked inside you, tasting parts of you no one else had ever gotten right before. 

“Fuck, Bucky, keep doing that – I’m-” You cut off with a high moan, your head tilting back as you rocked into him faster, chasing down that high that was so tantalisingly close. It hadn’t taken long, you were so worked up from your failed attempts that you were already there. 

Bucky’s began to lick and suck you with new fervour, his head moving in time with the jerks of his hips, feeling the way your walls were tightening around his tongue. His fingers dug harder into your ass, and you felt the silent command almost, Come. 

And you did. 

You cried his name out to the sky, every nerve in your body winding to near painful tautness before you shattered on his face, your first orgasm ripping through you. 

Bucky didn’t stop, working you through it and drawing it out further and further as he lapped up every single drop you gave him, moaning himself like it was the most tantalising thing he had ever tasted. 

He stopped only when your grip released on his hair, the sensitivity of your nerves almost painful, your legs shaking like crazy and he lifted his hand from between your thighs, his lips and chin glistening. He rose from his knees, nudging you back onto the bed and instantly crawling up your body, “You have no idea how good you taste.” 

You whimpered slightly, catching your breath as you watched him crawl up you, eyes burning like sapphire fire, his tongue licking slowly over his lips as he savoured you. Words were beyond you, desire still coursing through your veins and you were a little in awe at how quickly – and hard – he had brought you to your first orgasm. 

Bucky grinned devilishly, “That won’t be your last.” He lowered his mouth back to yours and as you tasted yourself on him, you grew instantly wet for him again. 

His body brushed into yours and you felt how painfully hard he was through his jeans, the sounds and taste of you getting to him of course. 

Your fingers had barely brushed against his restrained length when he shook his head, nipping at your lower lip, “Oh no, baby, this is all about you.” 

You ignored him, palming him through his jeans and he moaned lowly before his eyes flashed, his hand suddenly back on your throat and he moved his hips away so you couldn’t get to him. “I said no.” It was almost a snarl, “This is about you. Not me.” His hand tightened just slightly around your throat, making it that little bit harder to breathe and your eyes rolled back at how delicious it felt. 

It was a huge kink for you, the idea of someone – of Bucky - taking control, being in control of your body even it was just for a little while. You didn’t need to think or do anything. Only feel and be at the mercy of his touch. 

You relented, legs falling open for him and you tilted your head back, searching for his lips. 

Bucky granted you the kiss, a slow, languid kiss at first that was all simmering passion and tangling tongues, the taste on you still lingering on his lips. 

He palmed your breast again, tugging and squeezing the flesh until he scratched his nails lightly down your ribcage and belly. 

Yes, yes-

He wasted no time, no more playing and his fingers slipped lower, circling over your clit with a delicious pressure that had you instantly moaning into his mouth.

He toyed with your clit a little more, before gathering your wetness and then sinking two fingers inside you, pushing all the way into his knuckles, then drawing back out slowly. 

As he withdrew, you moaned long and slow into his mouth and he began a steady rhythm. Pushing and curling his fingers inside you a few steps, then circling and pulling at your clit, ever so subtly switching it up with each pass so you couldn’t predict what he would do.  

It felt amazing, but… there was something still missing. It still wasn’t quite enough to send you over that final edge… it wasn’t what you’d been fantasising about. 

No, it was his left hand. That dark, golden vibranium hand that was currently seated around your throat. 

The knowledge of what it could do, the sheer power in it that could easily crush your windpipe or shatter your jaw with a single flick of his wrist. 

That is what you needed. 

Those cool, powerful fingers inside you, working you over – that was the best toy. 

It was like he could read your mind somehow, or the way your body sung to his tune. He lifted his head, looking down at you with those searing blues and he cocked his head, a slow grin lighting his gorgeous face, “Oh… This-” he scissored his fingers inside you, stretching your walls and ever so slightly brushing up against that spot, “isn’t quite what you want, is it, darlin’?” 

Holy Christ, he was going to destroy you before you even got what you wanted.

You looked up at him, panting, hips rocking to the slower thrust of his fingers and you shook your head.

Bucky swore softly, panting himself and he squeezed your throat once before lifting his fingers, “You want these, don’t you?”

Instead of answering him, you ducked your head, taking his three fingers into your mouth and immediately gliding your tongue around them, up and down in slow, dirty strokes. 

The effect was instantaneous. Bucky’s hips jerked slightly against yours, his mouth parting as he watched you suck his vibranium fingers, hollowing your cheeks, eyes rolling back in your head like… like it was something else entirely. 

He groaned, swore again and then almost ripped his fingers from your mouth and from between your legs at the same time. 

Your entire body mourned the loss, feeling empty, clenching around nothing but mere seconds later, he plunged those three vibranium fingers inside of you, slick with your saliva and how unbelievably wet you were. 

It stung a little, but only added to the feeling as your hips rose off the bed, “Shit, shit-”

They felt… like the best toy you could ever imagine. Smooth, cold, and hard enough that you could feel every faint ridge of the joints as he slid them in and out. You reached out, grabbing his arm with one hand and the bed with the other, needing something to hold onto as instinct took over. Your hips rode upwards, back arching as you rocked his fingers in deeper, feeling them in your spine almost. It was better than you could have imagined. 

Bucky dropped his head to your chest, spreading his mouth over your breast and his other arm slid over your hips, pinning them to the bed so you were forced to take it. “You wanted this, baby… You take it.” He bit down on the soft flesh of your breast before smoothing his tongue over it again, working an alternative rhythm to his fingers and thumb again, so that your brain couldn’t keep up with which one to follow. It knew only the waves of fire singing through your veins.  

Time may have very well dissolved, because you could only feel pleasure, tinged almost with pain. 

The thick, hard stroking of fingers as they stretched and wrecked you. 

The circling, hard-soft-hard pressure of his thumb on your clit. 

The bite of his teeth on your breasts, neck and chest, followed by the wet press of his tongue. 

The way he couldn’t help his hips slightly rocking against your leg. 

This was almost like a fever dream, expect your brain couldn’t have come up with something this mind melting. Not even if you were really, really worked up. 

The noises in the room were absolutely sinful. The unrestrained cries and moans from your lips, Bucky’s groans and his filthy words, the wet pump of his fingers inside you – it was obscene, filthy and completely, painfully mind-blowing. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, Bucky, please-” You had no idea what you were begging for, but every single nerve and muscle in your body was coiling tighter and tighter, your hips jerking against his arm as he pinned you down, forcing you to take this, to feel everything he was doing with no relenting. Tears were beginning to blur your eyes and the pleasure he unleashed upon you was almost painful. 

Bucky somehow moved his fingers harder, deeper, the ability of the tech in his arm allowing him to do so, “Let go, baby, come on, let it go for me..” He dropped his head, biting down on your neck and he pressed his fingers against that spot inside you, flicking your clit with his thumb and then it all just snapped. 

Waves and waves of hot fire flooded your body, dragging you up to the stars, further. It ripped the air from your lungs, made you half scream his name in a never-ending prayer. 

It just didn’t stop. 

Bucky kept moving inside you, drawing out every single second of your mind-shattering orgasm, letting go of your hips so you could grind them into his hand. “That’s it, baby… Look at you, so beautiful like that…” His praise spurred you on, making you feel almost like a goddess as you flooded his hand. 

He stopped only when you slumped back onto the bed, sucking in deep breaths as you tried to piece yourself back together. 

Better than toys indeed. 

~~

A little while later, you stirred from a light dose to see Bucky lounging on your couch again, cleaning the grooves and metal of his fingers with a soft cloth. 

The sight of him concentrating, taking such care and detail with the clean-up, the cleanup from the mess you had made, had you instantly wet again. “Bucky.” 

He looked up, hearing the low thrum to your voice and a smirk crossed his lips. 

You had a favour to repay for his helping hand, after all. 

#well #that happened #i am not sorry #bucky barnes #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x reader #arm kink

[whatifyoulivelikethat]

not allowed v, m | myg

pairing(s): yoongi x reader, mentions of jungkook x reader – est. poly relationship

summary: BTS have had a long, busy day. Heck, a busy week, preparing for 2021 Grammys performance and interviews. It’s finally over, and all Min Yoongi wants is to take a shower and sleep with his favorite person. There’s no one like you. He deserves some special treatment – some belated birthday wishes granted perhaps?

warnings: rated M (18+) for language; domestic shower care (aww) and shower sex (hell yeah); feels and fluff; smut (fem reader, dirty talk, fingering, nipple play, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, handjob / blowjob (with tongue technology), f-receiving oral, doggy, spanking); idol!BTS; occurs the night of the 2021 Grammys

part of ‘not allowed’ series, but can be read alone. basic summary: MYG asks JJK to fuck you, again, let’s keep this going, oop JK dyed his hair blue; based on real time.

–

"I'm sorry you didn't win."

"It's okay. It was a long shot anyway."

"Well, you are good at basketball, so you can make a long shot, easy."

A deep, raspy chuckle. "Next time."

Water drummed against the tile, the rhythm interrupted by you working shampoo through black hair, conjuring fistfuls of lathered white clouds. The head lifted a little and you were about to chastise him, but one look into those black-brown eyes and small sheepish smile looking down at you, and you forgot what you were going to say. 

"It was never about us anyway. We wanted to win so ARMY could brag about us."

You grinned, chuckling a little. "They always brag about you, Yoongi."

You saw something flit across his face, but he didn't say anything. You already knew. I wish you could brag about me. And you did, but not in the way he wanted, because he was Min Yoongi, SUGA of BTS, Agust D sometimes, and your secret all of the time. You closed the distance, a simple, sweet kiss in response to his wordless wish, I know, me too, hands curling in his soapy hair, smiling gently against his lips. Hm. You could feel Yoongi was thoroughly enjoying your wet breasts against his chest. 

Something hard was poking you quite insistently.

You drew back a little and Yoongi's hands circled your waist, keeping your hips to him.

"Thought you said you were sleepy?" you teased.

Yoongi grinned slyly. "I changed my mind."

You chuckled, tipping his head back to rinse his hair off, forcing him to close his eyes with a displeased grunt. You could tell from his dark circles that he was tired from the stress of the day, having to wake up at two in the morning and be ready for his call time at five, but he still insisted for you to come, still insisted for you to sneak around and be here when he came home. You didn't get to see Yoongi on his birthday and not during the weekend before either. He was too busy filming content and preparing for the Grammys.

You did send him a voice message of you singing happy birthday and he replied with, thank you, my love, instead of the usual, you would benefit from a vocal coach, which meant he missed you far too much to tease you. 

You carefully straightened his neck and Yoongi breathed out, raising a hand to push his black hair away from his face, slicking it back and exposing his forehead. 

Oof.

Sexy. 

Yoongi's eyes opened, dark brown orbs reflecting the mischief in his smirk. 

"You sure you don't want me to call the maknae?" he asked not-so-innocently. 

You narrowed your eyes at him. He knew what he was doing. 

Your boyfriend had posted a selfie this morning, only to be followed up by Jeon Jungkook’s adorable pose in a colorful fluffy flannel shirt on Weverse. Earlier in the week, Jungkook had cutely invaded and sang happy birthday on Yoongi’s celebratory live, and then put up a picture of himself on his post for said hyung’s birthday.

The absolute gall of the Golden Maknae. 

Needless to say, you were disappointed, but not surprised. Only slightly though. Jungkook was like that. A little bit – alright, a lot – of a naughty little shit that needed his cock brutally choked by your throat or pussy every once in a while. Actually, no, definitely both, just to be on the safe side. But this day was not that day.

"You said you wanted to be selfish today," was your calm response to Yoongi's question, reaching behind him to rinse off your hands, pressing your tits into his chest. Your eyes flickered up to his. Yoongi raised an eyebrow as your fingers trailed on his back, drawing small patterns. 

"Has he been a bad boy?" he chuckled, referring to, of course, the shameless audacity of your other boyfriend, well-loved and doted-on Jeon Jungkook. 

Your expression matched his, inquiring but already knowing the answer. A silent conversation between kindred souls that followed the same thought process. Closer, water gliding between your bodies, lips fitting against his, lightly nipping at his lower lip as if to say, we're both a little mean, Yoongi chuckling in agreement as he captured your lips forcefully. Hands all over wet bodies, pressing him to you and him reciprocating, hot water seeming hotter, steam getting steamier, kisses passionate and intense, Yoongi pushing you into the shower wall, not letting you get away.

Jungkook had known you were coming, but he wasn't allowed to attend this time. 

He said he was tired from the events of today and he wanted you to spend time with Yoongi alone because it had been Yoongi's birthday recently and they should definitely get special treatment during their birthdays, right?

"I want special treatment on my birthday, so I suppose hyung should as well..." 

"Ah, that's too bad, I was looking forward to punishing you."

"Noona...!" You could hear the shy pout in Jungkook's voice as it lowered, whispering into his phone. "Don't say stuff like that..."

You heard a sneaky cat-like purr in the background. "Say what?"

Jungkook started and you heard the violent rattle of the phone falling, followed by scrambles to retrieve it. Ah. You could see now why Jungkook's phone was taped.

"Hyung! Don’t... I thought you were still in the bathroom..."

"Mmm." You knew that what that hum meant. You've been on the phone for a while. And Jungkook had, lamenting that he wished they could have won the award and had a celebration live with ARMY and you had to reassure him over and over that there would be more chances and ARMY was already very proud with the nomination, yourself included. 

"Uh... do you want to talk to hyung? He's here..." Jungkook did not sound like he wanted to give his phone up. He was only asking out of politeness.

"No, Jungkook, I'll see him in a bit."

"She said no, huh?" Yoongi mused and then you heard the sounds of footsteps wandering away. 

Jungkook made a questioning noise, but you reoriented him rather quickly. 

"I want to hear your voice some more, Jungkook." You recalled the opening of the Grammys 'Dynamite' performance and his teasing, cocky nose scrunch. "Was feeling rather sexy during the recording, weren't you?"

"You saw?" An edge of excitement to his tone. "That was for you, noona," he added playfully. 

"No, it wasn't."

His faint, wicked snicker. "Okay, you're right, but I did think about you while doing it."

"Mmmhmm. What part of me? My smiling face or my warm mouth wrapped around your cock?"

"Noona!"

Alright, you did end up giving Jungkook a little bit of punishment, because neither you nor himself could help it. And at the very end, he played along, whining for you because he knew you wanted him to. Fuck, he was getting clever now, remembering all the things you liked. Stupid sexy Jungkook and his duality.

"Can't I come too? Please, noona?"

It took a lot of refuse his cute voice, but you did make a promise to Yoongi and you never broke your promises.

"Sorry, Jungkook, you're not allowed this time."

Reliving your memory was abruptly interrupted by two fingers sliding into your pussy.

"Excuse you," you muttered into Yoongi's lips. 

"What are you thinking about that's gotten you so wet, hm?" he drawled, dripping water down your cheeks and chest, kissing from your lips and up your jaw, slowly working his fingers in and out, your wetness thicker, warmer than the water, leaking down his knuckles. His voice in your ear, low and dangerous, making you fall for him more and more. "Thinking about me or the maknae?"

...

Min Yoongi knew you too well.

"T-That's..."

Couldn't think of a smart comeback, not with Yoongi's voice so sensual and invasive, staring up at the hazy ceiling while he sucked on your ear, biting your lip to stifle your moans, nerves lighting with shivering arousal. His fingers controlled, measured, focused on deeply penetrating you to graze your favorite spots, rubbing your walls and pressing his thumb into your clit, slow circles causing throbs of pleasure to glide through you. Yoongi knew all the places that made you weak, licking right under your ear to make you whimper for him, kissing and sucking up and down the curve. The warm water created a steady hum, background music for his dirty words. 

"Is that why Jungkookie ran so fast to the bathroom earlier today, hm? Mmm, you shouldn't mess with him so much. You should know better as his noona," Yoongi murmured softly, speeding up, catching your earlobe with his teeth and tugging on it, words slightly muffled as he continued, waves of heat flaring upwards with every thrust. "He'll keep teasing you, pretending it's for ARMY, and then when he has you next, he'll make you beg for his cock…" Teeth biting down, leaving a visible mark, his gravelly whisper sparking inhibitions. 

"And I'm going to watch you."

Fuck you, Min Yoongi, for always knowing the right thing to say.

Yoongi flicked your clit and you cried out, bucking into his hand, almost losing balance, but his left arm came up behind the small of your back and held you in place, strong and unyielding, orgasm cut short with your sudden worry of straining his recovery, but Yoongi already knew, cooing comfortingly in your inflamed ear. 

"I was dancing during the recording, remember?"

Right, he was cleared to dance, but still...

And again, Yoongi led you back into the proper headspace, kissing and nipping down your neck, tongue against your collarbones, stroking your side with his left hand as his right pushed in and out of you, building the pace and your needy gasps once more. 

"Shh, you're a good girl, don't move and nothing bad will happen."

A tinge of menace in his voice, indicating the double meaning, I won't get hurt and maybe you won't get punished. Only a maybe though, sending a delighted spark up your spine, pressing your shoulder blades into the shower wall, instinctively raising one of your legs to give Yoongi more space. You glanced down, but he wasn't looking at you, eyes calmly closed, soaked black strands sticking to his forehead as his pink lips wrapped around one of your nipples. Instant pleasure from his expert tongue, teasing the moans of his name out of you, praising him, fuck yes, Yoongi, so good, I love this, fingers filling you repeatedly, thumb knuckle grinding onto your clit, sucking on your hard nipple. You were so focused on the feeling that your torso froze up, head and hands pressed into the wall, back arcing as you came, pulses of ecstasy enveloping you, but Yoongi didn't stop, forcing another finger inside your tight hole, whines in your throat as your shuddering pussy sucked it in, still riding waves of aftershocks.

His left hand slid up and pinched your ignored nipple. 

"Yoongi, fuck...!"

You could only curse the gods that created the genius that was Min Yoongi, chuckling as he rubbed your left nipple, sucked on the right, thumb knuckle on your clit, three fingers fully stuffed inside you, so hard and so fast that his forearm was nearly vibrating. Too coordinated, too rough, too much, mind going blank, already orgasming, and again, and again, not stopping.

He was too good. 

Yoongi wasn’t going to stop until you made him. 

Your eyes rolled back, rocketing bolts of pleasure overtaking everything, entire body shaking and quivering with overstimulation, your own knuckles white because your fingers somehow curled into fists, moans rattling your chest as wave after wave of pleasure attacked you, pushing you to the brink of collapse.

"Y-Yoongi, oh, fuuuuuuuk, Yoongi!"

Your body made the executive decision for you, left hand shooting down and grabbing his forearm, gripping it tightly, gasping for air, making sure to keep his long fingers buried all the way inside, his hard muscle flexing under your palm. Fuck, so hot. Yoongi immediately stopped, detaching his mouth from your nipple, and you could barely protest, tremors thundering through your torso as your pussy spasmed and soaked his fingers with your sweet-sour juices, your inner muscles rapidly clenching and unclenching around him, his low moans filling your ears as he felt each strong pulse, stretching his fingers against your convulsing walls to amplify your pleasure and feel it all.

"Fuck..." Yoongi panted, leaning against you and your heaving chest. "Fuck, you're so pretty when you're wrecked." 

His lips on your temple, kissing you fiercely, grinding his crotch into your hip and revealing how hard he was as you tried to come down, tried to calm your heart threatening to pound out of your chest. You turned your head to face him and he was there, devouring your lips with rough kisses, pulling his fingers out to tug and pinch at your nipples with his knuckles, smirking at your submissive whines, your hands wandering down and gripping his length, leisurely stroking him.

Now Yoongi was the one gasping into your mouth, switching to rubbing your hard sensitive nipples to coax you to do more, switching your positions in the shower so his back was to the water. The two of you were only half-finished washing up, but neither of you seemed to notice or care.

You backed up a little, breaking the kiss, seeing Yoongi’s dazed expression as you lightly cupped the head of his cock in your palm, gently rolling into the slickness, continuing for several seconds before adding a little more pressure. He inhaled sharply, pleading for more with his breathing alone. His chin was slightly tilted upwards, black hair sticking to his forehead, pink lips slightly parted, water trickling in rivets down his neck and chest.

Yoongi noticed you staring and gave you his trademark open-mouthed smirk.

Who taught Jeon Jungkook how to be hot as hell?

It had to have been Min Yoongi.

You mentally took note of this image of wet Yoongi so you could masturbate to it later.

He cocked a brow and you cocked one back, challenging him. Then you dropped to your knees, careful with the slippery floor, and yanked his hips to your face so he blocked all of the water with his body. His stiff length smacked you in the lips and smeared pre-cum on them. You heard Yoongi gasp and you looked up, seeing him watching you, expectation and hunger in his dark eyes.

You smirked, tongue snaking out and licking your lips to taste him.

“Is my good girl going to do all my favorite things?” he drawled in his extra-low octave.

Your pussy throbbed at his domineering tone. You didn’t have to say anything, your scorching gaze alone creating that amused smirk on Yoongi’s lips. I know what you want. One hand holding up his cock, leaning forward, and Yoongi groaned in satisfaction, your mouth sucking in one of his balls, your deft tongue circling the other in loud, messy slurps, suffocating one while licking the other. You flicked your wrist back and forth, pumping his cock as you worked his balls, lips tight and pulling slightly, tongue flexed and slapping against the other.

You looked up at Yoongi’s dilated pupils, knowing that he could see flashes of your pink tongue against his balls, your hand stroking him slowly and deliberately.

“You’re so good, fuck… So fucking good at that,” Yoongi panted. “Every other man in the world is jealous that they’re never going to get to experience this.”

You popped your mouth off, making him hiss with pleasure. “That’s not true. I’ll give it to Jungkookie eventually.”

“Ah, he’s lucky that I picked him.”

You raised your eyebrows, you picked him, uh huh, I was the one stalking him on Twitter, and Yoongi nudged you with his hips, eyes narrowing dangerously, put my balls in your fucking mouth, and you obeyed, switching to his right side and sucking it into your plush lips, tongue snaking out to lap at his left one, now pumping him with your dominant right hand. He sucked in a breath, moaning softly, clenching his jaw as you increased to his favorite pressure and speed.

“Fuck, yes, make me cum just like this,” he snarled, as much a plea as it was an order, rocking his hips a little so he tugged on his balls in your mouth, forcing you to suck harder and lick more roughly to keep him in place, obscene slurps adding another layer to the song that was the falling water, Yoongi’s moans, and the rapid slap-slap-slap of your hand furiously jacking off his twitching hardness. You glanced up at him and he was observing you closely, drinking in every second of your mouth, hand, and spread-open thighs as you kneeled for him, water dripping off your nipples and ass, groaning your name, tone saturated with lust.

“Ah, fuck, I love you so much, you look so fucking good like this…”

You could tell he was getting close with how shallow his breathing was becoming. Tighter, harder, so devoted to the cause that you were whimpering to add vibration to the multiple sensations, drunk on the taste of his skin and the scent of his pre-cum right next to your head, needing it, wanting it, right now, your eyes telling him, please Yoongi, cum for me, want you to cum for me so bad, and he bit his lip, tense growl contained in his throat that morphed into a drawn-out wail.

“Fuck, now, fuck!”

You abruptly pulled off his balls and Yoongi gasped, startled and confused as you quickly repositioned yourself so he shot thick strings onto your mouth, painting your red swollen lips with drizzles of white, up your cheek and onto your nose, dark eyes wide as he witnessed his indecent mark on you. Like something out of a literal porno, your lips coated with glossy lines of his semen. You looked up at him, still holding his cock, sinfully triumphant.

Your devious smirk covered in cum.

“You wicked, dirty woman,” Yoongi breathed in amazement.

His hand was travelling down so you removed yours, already guessing what was coming next. You placed your hands on your thighs, sinking into the softness as Yoongi groaned, wrapping his fingers around his cock, pumping himself slowly to the image of your cum-covered puffy lips, red and white, upper body tilted back so your hard nipples pointed upwards towards him, squeezing your breasts together with your arms while your hands kept your thighs spread, wet pussy exposed to him.

“Fuck,” he hissed, so hard you could see the flashes of veins standing out through his fingers. “You’re too much, too sexy, come closer so I can use that mouth.”

You scooted nearer and Yoongi pushed his cock into your lips, moaning as he watched his orgasm smear down his length and disappear with each centimeter his cock into your tight, hot mouth, your eyes taking in the jerks of his shoulders and slack jaw, forcing you to take him all the way to the base. He was so turned on that you knew he wasn’t going to last as long as he wanted, but there was no stopping him now, already shallowly thrusting. You knew how to make him pause though, tightly tensing your throat muscles around the tip. Yoongi threw his head back, your name a desperate whine.

“Please, shit, I’m so fucking sensitive, fuck…”

Slowly Yoongi’s head rolled back and you took the chance to slide your tongue out, hands coming up to cup his balls, licking them in playful figure-eights with his entire length crammed down your throat, barely able to breathe.

You didn’t care.

Yoongi was in literal heaven.

Swearing, gasping, moaning, enjoying it for a good twenty seconds before fitting his right hand behind your head, tangled in your wet hair.

“Hold me,” he gritted out. “Hold me so I can fuck your face.”

You backed up a little to take a deep lungful of air, placing your hands on his hips. There was so much adrenaline coursing through your veins that you didn’t even notice that your knees were screaming in pain, completely focused on getting your throat ready for Yoongi’s abuse.

Your eyes flickered up to him, giving him the signal.

Yoongi grinned and began to thrust into your mouth. You adjusted your neck a little and Yoongi hissed, the throbbing head of his cock now rubbing against the roof of your mouth with every slide down your throat, rolling his hips into your face. You could tell he wanted to keep it slow, but his body craved the speed and he finally gave in, fucking your face mercilessly, fast and rough, nearly choking you but not quite, and that was the best part, Yoongi always knowing the edge, always knowing how much you could take, chuckling darkly as your moaned around his cock, trying not to dig your nails into his skin.

“It’s okay, do it,” Yoongi nudged, devilish edge to his voice. “Do it. No one is going to look there.”

Eye contact.

You sure?

He ticked a brow.

How many people were going to look at his ass? Eh, he was right.

You sank your nails into his hips and dragged them down, creating red scratches around his crotch.

“Yes, fuck, yes,” Yoongi gasped with your name, urging you for more, you clawing at his ass as he forced himself between your tight lips, marking him up, praying no one was going to ask why his ass looked like a cat’s scratching post, but it was doomed, your cries vibrating his cock, Yoongi losing control, lustful shudder as his cock jolted in your mouth, spilling down your throat. You swallowed greedily, puffing breath around his thick length, sucking a little so you could feel every quiver, his taste strong and salty, so delicious that your pussy pulsated with satisfaction even through it wasn’t being stimulated.

You felt Yoongi caress your wet hair, soft praises floating down to your ears. You licked him delicately, ghosting your tongue around and around the head. He shivered, exhaling hard.

“Such a good girl, taking me so well…”

You felt his cock soften. You did what any sensible human would do and took him all the way in your mouth to bounce his balls with your tongue.

Yoongi chuckled.

“You’re crazy.”

You gave him your gurgled response with his dick still down your throat.

“You’re right, I do love it.” He tapped your cheek. “But the water’s getting cold, so let’s finish this shower and get into bed.”

-

“Yoongi?”

“Hm?”

“What happened to my ripped panties?”

“From last time? Don’t know. Jungkook had them in his pocket.”

You frowned, working product through your wet hair. “I hope he threw them away safely.”

Yoongi looked thoughtful. “Ah, is that what he snuck over to Jimin’s room for?”

“What?”

He shrugged. “It would be a good cover.”

You gawked at him.

Yoongi didn’t elaborate, going back to daintily and dutifully applying his skincare.

-

Get into bed.

This wasn’t exactly what you thought Yoongi meant, but you weren’t mad at it.

“Fuck, that’s so insanely hot…”

You were kneeling on the bed, chin on the pillows, knees spread, hands on your ass cheeks to spread your pussy open so your boyfriend Min Yoongi could watch you flex your wet opening.

At least he gave you time to blow-dry your hair before ordering you around.

For the moment, you were staring at the headboard, keenly concentrating on the exact precision and force needed to open and close with varying degrees. Most of the time, there was no need to be this focused, but Yoongi had asked for a show, so you were going to give him one. You could hear him slowly stroking himself, panting with exertion and awe. The bed sank a little as his weight was added, coming up behind you. Anticipation zipped through your veins, heartbeat spiking.

“A-ah!”

You felt a cold, fine spray on your ass and back. The fuck? Then the scent hit you, sudden citrus mixed with a verdant musk and the base of pine wood. On your skin, it immediately morphed, turning warmer, almost smokier, different than how it smelled on Yoongi. You twisted your head around, giving Yoongi’s smirking face a startled look.

“Did you just spray me with your cologne?”

He tucked his tongue between his neat white teeth. “No.” Which obviously meant yes.

You narrowed your eyes. “You shouldn’t do that. Someone might figure it out.”

Yoongi raised an eyebrow underneath his fluffy black bangs. “I’m sure many people buy and wear my cologne, including women. Can’t keep anything a secret these days.”

There was a twinge of arrogance and wistfulness in his deep voice, but before you could break it down and ask, what about me, Yoongi leaned in and shoved his tongue into your pussy.

“F-fuck, Yoongi!”

His satisfied groan trembled through your nerves, igniting arousal and causing you to clench around his tongue involuntarily. He didn’t have to say it, both of you already thinking it, keep going, but now you were gasping, getting wetter and wetter with the addition of Yoongi’s tongue lazily sliding up and down as your muscles contracted and relaxed, letting him feel your skill and power, his moans vibrating through you from your core. It was already slick and getting slicker, Yoongi’s tongue gracefully sliding through your folds, thrusting into your hole, your juices like honey seeping onto his greedy mouth, so fucking good you didn’t need to control it anymore, it was just happening, and it took everything in you not to shove your ass into his face even though you wanted to, because you didn’t want to make any sudden movements and accidentally hurt him when he had already worked so hard today.

Yoongi chuckled.

“Fuck you,” you hissed, knowing he could see the strain in your arms and the tremble of your hips trying to keep your position as he sucked on your clit.

He removed his mouth and you grumbled in disappointment, cutting yourself off when you heard the distinct rip of a foil packet.

“No, fuck you.”

Yoongi said it as if he was telling someone the time and not about to forcefully plunge his dick right into where his mouth was a second ago.

“Ah, fuck yes, Yoongi…”

He sank right in, stretching you out deliciously, sighing as your wet walls molded around his cock, familiar and wonderful. You finally had the chance to remove your hands from your ass so you could hold yourself up, relieving some of the pressure on your poor knees.

“I’m choosing to ignore your disrespect,” Yoongi purred, placing his hands on your hips and bottoming out, his balls smacking your engorged clit roughly, earning a low hiss from your throat. Your fingers twisted into the sheets, breathing hard as your body adjusted. He was asking you how you wanted it. You clicked your tongue and turned your head back, seeing him watching you closely under his black hair shadowing his dark brown eyes.

“What a nice guy,” you remarked in a cool, defiant tone, borderline bored.

Come on, Yoongi, mess me up.

His lips curved into that devious, open-mouthed smirk you loved so much.

“Mhm.”

He slid out and slapped his crotch into your ass, hard.

“Yes, Yoongi, fuck!”

Your nails sank into your palms and you shoved your fists into the sheets, locking your upper body so you could push back into his rough thrusts, pleased grin on your lips, his perfect cock filling you over and over again, core tensed tight to feel all of him, the thick head forcing its way deep inside slick velvet, the rock-hard length twitching against each ridge, his balls bouncing against your inflamed clit, so full, so good, so intense that it almost hurt.

It wasn’t enough.

Panting hard, chest shuddering, you reached up and planted a hand flat against the headboard and clenched your jaw, bucking back into Yoongi’s crotch. His voice was mind-numbingly deep, full of desire and danger.

“Harder it is, my love.”

You smirked, then gasped as you felt the hot sting of Yoongi’s palm on your ass, the sound reverting against the apartment walls. He didn’t stop, fucking you hard into the bed and slapping your ass as you kept up with his pace, doing half the work for him so he could focus on each sharp spank to make your ass bounce on his cock, the bed screaming for you two to stop, but neither of you noticed, completely focused on chasing wild, feral pleasure, Yoongi growling your name and you moaning at his carnal tone, soaking his skin with thick, sweet-smelling juices, pussy violently massaging his length.

“That’s it,” Yoongi hissed, breathing rapid and shallow, ceasing his slapping of your red ass to seize your hips and fuck you even harder, digging his nails into your skin and marking you with his lust. “Feels so good fucking this perfect body just the way I like.”

Fuck, his voice, taking your heart and setting your world into lustful wildfire, no one like him, nothing like this, making you lose your mind and fuck back against him harder, the roller coaster climbing higher and higher and higher, Yoongi cursing under his breath, and you were so far gone that you almost didn’t pick up his words.

“Shit, Jungkookie would have loved watching you get wrecked by me.”

A low moan ripped from your throat, the thought of Jungkook’s needy voice and expression seeing you get pounded by Yoongi’s full strength, being told to watch and probably not being able to help touching himself, fuck, you wanted it, wanted Jungkook so bad at that very moment, wanted to show him how ruined you were, knowing he would love it, crave it, desire it, fuck, it was too much and you came hard, seeing stars, planets, fuck it, the whole fucking galaxy, fingernails curling into the headboard and whining at the sensitivity, body rolling onto Yoongi’s cock and squeezing it powerfully. Yoongi gasped out your name, grip tightening as he spilled into the condom, his length pulsating and twitching into your walls. You thought that was it, but Yoongi’s fingers snaked down between your legs.

“Oh, fuck, Yoongi, Yoongi, fuck!”

He roughly rubbed your aching clit with two fingers, forcing you to cum again around his cock, moaning loudly with every convulsion of your overstimulated pussy, viscous juices clinging to the insides of your joined thighs, completely defeating the purpose of the fucking shower, but neither of you seemed to remember that, Yoongi too busy using his last ounce of strength to push you to your limit, flicking the sensitive bundle of nerves and vibrating his fingertips against it, your eyes rolling back and spine clattering as another orgasm blasted through you, up your torso and straight to your head, numbing pleasure overtaking everything, arm going slack and forgetting to hold yourself up, hand slipping on the headboard, fatigue finally having its way.

Yoongi was quick to slide his hand up your belly and keep you up, wiry strength of his right arm balancing between your breasts to prevent you from falling into the bed.

“Holy f-fuck…”

The words sounded far away even though they were yours, the resounding beat in your ears being your pulse trying to catch up, nerves tingling all over, acutely aware of the tiny flinches gliding across your skin, aftershocks of a particularly explosive orgasm. Your pussy was still throbbing around Yoongi’s spent cock, locking him in your embrace. You planted your hands onto the bed and lifted yourself up rather shakily, taking the burden off Yoongi’s arm.

“You okay?” Yoongi asked, caressing the underside of your breast lightly.

You had the energy to raise one hand and give him a thumbs-up.

He rapped your ribcage. “Stop that.”

You chuckled, finding your voice a bit hoarse. “Why? You always do it in pictures.”

You heard Yoongi mumble disapprovingly behind you. “Is that why you do that? To make fun of me when I take photos?”

“Almost eight years of being an idol and you still don’t know what to do with your hands in pictures,” you teased.

He pinched your nipples roughly and you yelped.

“I know what to do with my hands around you,” Yoongi growled, rubbing them between his fingertips, your moans radiating off his walls. “And that’s what matters.”

-

interlude 20210419 drabble — “This is not allowed, you two.”

part vi “Shh, you’re not allowed to tell anyone.”

--

masterpost

#yoongi x reader #yoongi x you #yoongi smut #bts smut #suga x you #yoonkook x reader #min yoongi x reader #min yoongi smut

[parkers-gal]

yay! okay so I was thinking, what I'd the reader and Tom had a fight, could be over anything, but the reader was pregnant and a few years after, they bump into each other and they get back together. Sorry if it doesn't make sense.

this has been sitting in my inbox for a fat couple of months… sorry 😭

wc: 1.7k ! <3

—

“No, because you’re selfish and you can’t handle the fact that my life doesn’t revolve around you and your needs.” Tom spits out the words angrily, viciously, voice harsh and crisp.

You’re both frustrated beyond belief, and the bubble that had been overblown had finally popped, splattering your relationship and all the joyful aspects of it. Right now, you felt as if all that was left was the toxicity of two unbearable people who happened to love each other. You knew, deep down, that you loved each other enough to get through this, but with every passing moment, with every exchanged word, you realized at least one of you wouldn’t survive the damage.

“No, Tom. You’re selfish. You’re conceited and you only care about being a goddamn movie star. What happened to the family man, huh? What happened to staying tied down with me and your brothers?”

“Nothing happened to him! I’m still that person. I am a family guy.”

“Not to me, you aren't.”

“Well you’re not family!” He seethes through his teeth, anger radiating off of his short-tempered demeanor. You don’t even know how to react, so you spend the time soaking in the situation and how you should respond instead of actually doing it.

“You’re a fucking jackass. I asked when I could spend time with you and now you don’t even consider me as part of the family.”

“No,” He’s clear and concise even through the anger. “You asked when I’m going to stop living my life.”

“I said no such thing.”

“You didn’t have to! We both know that’s what you meant.”

“You’re not even on the same page as me anymore,” You scoff, arms crossing. “Seems like all this time in Hollywood made you forget that you’re not always the main character.”

“Fuck that, Y/N! Fuck! That!”

“No, Tom. Fuck. You.” You over-express your emotions, and after two more minutes of unbearable silence and screaming, he’s leaving your apartment just as fast as he arrived. You’re in shock, fingers shaking while you clear your throat, which is frayed and sore from all the yelling.

You sit back, elbows on your knees while your hands smoothen out your forehead. Tear after tear escapes your sobbing body, and eventually, you fall asleep on the couch.

In the weeks to come, you’ve realized the blow-out of a breakup could’ve been handled so much differently, but Tom hasn’t seemed to cool down at all — he’s petty enough to unfollow you on all social media, and you figure it’s time to let the hatred be mutual. You don’t touch your imessages, however, letting the love in those texts linger for a little longer.

Before you know it, you’re throwing up into the toilet boil, coughing violently at the action and spitting the bitter taste as best you can. You clean up, and when you check your phone, a small notification from your period tracker app alerts you that this is the second period in a row that has gone by without a hello.

Worried, you call Aisha, your closest friend and confidant. She’s over in no time, bringing along her girlfriend while you rant on the phone about your worries. They stop at the drugstore on the way.

The cause of your problems is discovered that day, and you collapse on the bathroom floor in agony, hands wiping at your face — through all the anger and fear and worry, you still love Tom. So much that Aisha even attempts to call Tom. But, alas, it’s sent straight to voicemail, and you realize he might’ve gone to extreme extents in blocking everyone.

You’re stuck going to the ultrasound with two lesbians and a frail old cat. Aisha is as supportive as ever, but as the doctor explains the process of each option, you feel sicker and sicker about the idea of getting rid of the fetus. In the end, you choose to keep the child you’re bearing, even if your ex-lover isn’t even in the picture.

Inevitably, the months pass, and as baby Charlie is brought into the wonderful world, you realize life as a single mother isn’t as scary as you thought it would be. In the first few months of your pregnancy, you’d kept tabs on what film Tom was doing and which was coming out next, but after the hormones and cravings, you’d decided to let the past sizzle and fade out in the way it was meant to all along.

It’s been almost three years since that fateful breakup, and Charlie is just reaching two and a half years old. You’re still single, and you’re okay with that. Charlie is all you need, all you’ve ever wanted, and the most important thing in your life. He’s young, and school is still a couple years away, but you enjoy having the toddler by your side, walking hand in hand with you because you’re his guardian, his provider, his only parent. You make him your only priority, because you don’t want him to grow up without anyone to love, or anyone to love him.

It’s hard, though. It’s hard because he’s a constant reminder of what didn’t happen, a constant reminder of what went wrong and of what you no longer have. You miss Tom more than words can express, and Charlie’s mop of brown curls reminds you of all the moments you’d run your fingers through Tom’s hair. You reminisce more than you’d like to, about Tom and your past, and though Charlie is technically half of the Brit, he’s one hundred percent yours. Because you’re the only one here, and that’s alright.

“Mummy,” Charlie tugs on your shirt’s hem while you move the shopping cart forward through the aisle. “Can we get the goldfish with superheroes?”

You jutt your lip out in a smile, nodding happily. “Of course we can, bub.”

As you step forward, you pit stop in the aisle, nearly tripping on the cart. You make direct eye contact with the man you used to love with your entire heart. The man who walked out with your heart and never gave it back. He’s staring right back at you, curls looking as fluffy as ever, face still a soft glow. Your breath hitches, and it’s then that you realize Charlie is still talking.

“Mummy?” He asks, and it’s just loud enough for Tom to hear. Harry, who’s beside Tom with an arm full of crackers and chips. Tom moves forward a few steps, hastily in an attempt to get more information.

“Uh, hi,” His smile is tight lipped as he stands at the other end of your shopping cart. Charlie shies away from strangers, standing behind your leg and holding your shirt with his grubby hands.

“Hi,” you return his awkward, reserved demeanor.

“Mummy who’s this?”

“‘Mummy?’” Tom has a follow up question for everything, and you internally panic, unsure on how to approach this.

You’d spent so long deciding how you should tell Tom that he was a dad. You spent hours debating on if you should pick up the phone or drive over just to tell him a truth you’ve kept inside for so long. You’ve abandoned social media, only sharing aspects of your life you can afford to post. Charlie is only occasionally on your page, but it’s not like Tom would see that, not after all that’s happened.

Your mouth opens and closes while you debate on how to reply. You’re physically incapable of saying your response, and it makes you even more nervous. You’re nervous on how he might react, what he’ll say, but most importantly, if he’ll stay.

“Is this…?

“My kid…” You fill in. “I- I mean our… our kid.” You pull your bottom lip between your rows of teeth, and you watch as Tom’s face undergoes thousands of expressions all at once. He’s surprised, shocked, happy, afraid, uncertain. You want the world to swallow you whole, suck you up so you don’t have to go through any of this again. But you don’t. Instead, you hold Charlie’s hand a little tighter.

“Our kid?” He drops a can of soup and you flinch at the loud noise.

“Mummy, who’s that?”

“That’s…” You don’t know how to answer his question. Instead, you lean down to his level, comfortingly and gently. “He’s a man.”

“Who’s that man?”

“He’s… your daddy.”

“I thought… no daddy?”

You purse your lips and furrow your brows. Tom’s watching the entire encounter from his place, but after a few beats, he steps forward, entering your bubble. Charlie doesn’t cower away this time, but looks up in curiosity.

“Hi, Charlie,” Tom extends his hand, adjusting his jeans so he can lean down just as you are, kneeling beside the young boy.

You look down, avoiding your worries and Tom’s gaze. He’s tearing up, and you want to cry too. You’re in a fucking supermarket, for god’s sake. This wasn’t how you envisioned any of this planning out, and though you’re mentally kicking yourself for letting it happen this way, you can’t help but feel like maybe this was meant to be. Written in the stars or whatever the folks say — you’re just grateful Charlie has at least a sliver of hope for two parents. Not that you can’t handle it, because you can, but you know someone like Tom wouldn’t want to miss something as important as this.

“I’m To- I’m…” He swallows thickly, making brief eye contact with you before looking back at Charlie. “I’m your dad.”

“Do you love my mummy?” He’s not shameless, but he’s still that shy little boy. “My friend says daddy’s love mommy’s so you must love mine, right?”

Tom lets a tear fall while he exhales a chuckle. He swipes the drop with the tips of his fingers, and the hand gripping Charlie’s squeezes it a little tighter. A glance in your direction is all it takes for him to answer Charlie’s question. “Yeah, buddy. I do.”

want more? my masterlist.

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#tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #tom holland x pregnant!reader #dad!tom holland #dad!tom #dad!tom holland fic #tom holland fluff #tom holland angst #tom holland fanfic #tom holland imagine #tom holland oneshot #tom holland blurb #tom holland request #tom holland fluffy #tom holland angsty

[goldengoddess]

call it what you want - bucky barnes

pairing: bucky barnes x reader

summary: falling in love with your best friend is hard, especially if all you want is to wear his initials on a chain round your neck & kiss his face

a/n: oh my god i’m so proud of this i’m in my feels just writing it :’) pls understand the reference and appreciate it, my swiftie heart needs it !!!!! pls lmk what u guys think <3

warnings: a lil angst but honesty it’s very fluffy okay

bucky barnes was not a man of many words. he was a man made up of long looks and subtle hints, mysterious in nature. unpredictable and yet incredibly reliable. 

but most importantly he was a man made up of so so much love. brimming with it, actually. bucky was made to love others.

you knew that, of course. he had shown you in every way how it felt to truly be loved.

but his love was slow, and painful, and often time consuming. the kind of love that came out in little actions, that took months, even years, to really feel it.

you'd been more than happy to be patient. to wait while bucky realized that you weren't going anywhere, that you weren't afraid of him, that he didn't need to push you away. your patience had been worth it, all beautiful things take time.

and your friendship with bucky was just that, beautiful. he trusted you more than any other person in the compound. well, other than steve of course. 

though neither of you had ever said it aloud, you were his person. and he was yours. the two of you relied on each other more than you cared to admit. during missions, when his command and voice had saved you a countless number of times. but also just in your daily lives, where your comforting presence put him at ease in uncomfortable situations.

 your heart was bursting with love and admiration for the man you had watched grow out of his shell into something better, someone stronger.

and how could you not fall in love with someone like james buchanan barnes?

frankly, it was inevitable. 

everything he did made you fall deeper into this sinking, fantastic, terrifying, love for him. the way he said your name. the way he looked for you in a crowd. the way he understood what you were thinking before you even had to say it aloud. the way he always placed his fingers on your back as you walked. the way he adopted a stray cat off the streets and let you name it. 

falling for your best friend? more likely then you might think.

and even though just the color of his eyes made you want to kiss him senseless, you couldn't do anything about it. 

it would be selfish of you to act on your feelings. it would mean taking away the lifelong friendship the two of you had built. 

so as you sat beside him on his bed, your head on his metal shoulder, some cliché movie you told bucky he needed to watch playing in front of you, your heart longed for the soldier sitting next to you. 

bucky's hand traced little patterns on your thigh, just lines and every now and then a small circle. you were more focused on his touch than on the plot of the movie, the way bucky was.

but bucky's mind was on everything but the film. all of his attention was focused on your breathing, the way it hitched slightly whenever he let his fingers linger on your thigh for too long. the way you closed your eyes in content whenever something funny happened. he was watching you, in awe of you. 

lately, bucky couldn't do anything but admire you. 

as the movie played on you fiddled with your hands as a distraction, praying that your plaguing thoughts would calm down so you could enjoy this moment with bucky. but when he started drawing letters on your thigh you knew it was no use. the movie was the last thing you cared about right then. 

you peaked your eyes at him, finding him already watching you. you averted your eyes to his hand on your thigh and focused on the letter. “h” you said out loud, “e,y. hey,” you combined his letters. you felt bucky nod his head and then begin again, spelling out ‘doll’ on your thigh. 

you grinned up at him, feeling the air leave your lungs at the icy blue of his eyes. “hey doll,” you laughed, “hey buck.”

he smiled back at you. the way you said his name made him turn into an absolute mess. he knew he’d do anything for your if you just said his name in that pretty way of yours. 

his smile had a similar effect on you. a blush spread across your cheeks and you moved your eyes back to your fingers on your lap, wishing your had a ring or something to fiddle around with. 

bucky furrowed his brows at your anxious movements, “you okay honey?”

you nodded your head but the anxious butterflies in your stomach increased at his much too sweet nickname. 

he lifted your head off of his shoulder, forcing you to sit cross legged facing you. you let out a small whine at the loss of contact, since he had to move his hand off of your thigh. he chuckled and grabbed your hands so you’d stop moving them around, “honey?”

you let out a sigh, if only you could tell him what was really bothering you. if only you could tell him that every single touch, word, action from him sent your body and mind into overdrive. tell him how unfair it was that he had so much control over you. “just wish i had something to mess with” you said lightly. 

bucky thought on your words for a moment, visually searching his room for something he could give you. then he heard the familiar ‘clink’ of his dog tags touching around his neck. he let out a shaky breath at the idea but this was you. he let go of his hand and slipped the chain off of his neck and around yours.

you let out a small gasp as the cold metal pressed on the back of your neck. your fingers instinctively went to the tags on the chain and pressed them between your fingers. your mouth was parted in shock as you looked up at him, not understanding why he’d given you his most prized possession.

he shrugged, as if it was the most casual thing in the world, “just mess with my dog tags. it’s no big deal.”

that was it. those words send you over the edge. enough was enough. how could he say it wasn’t a big deal? when the action made your mind go wild. it was a big deal, by giving you his tags bucky was giving you yet another part of him.

a part of him you didn’t want to have as just a friend. these tags were meant to mean something. you needed them to mean something. because you wanted to mean something more to bucky.

you let out a scoff and took the chain off of your neck, aggressively placing them back in his hands.

the look on bucky’s face was a mixture of confusion and hurt and it broke your heart in two. but you couldn’t do this anymore, the what if scenarios, questioning if every one of his actions was friendly or romantic, the possibility of something more right around the corner.

you climbed off the bed and patted your wrinkled clothing down. you gave bucky a look that you hoped conveyed what you were feeling, heartbroken and angry. angry that you couldn’t have him the way you wanted to.

“what’s wrong?” bucky asked softly, moving towards the edge of the bed so his feet were placed firmly on the floor.

you shook your head and made your way towards the exit of his bedroom. it was childish, the way you were reacting. your anger wasn’t at bucky, even if you were slightly taking it out on him. it wasn’t even about his dog tags. your anger and hurt was directed towards this situation, towards yourself. you were angry at yourself for falling for the person that meant the most to you in the world.

before you could open the door though, bucky had gotten up and grabbed your wrist, effectively turning you to face him. “doll, what’s wrong?”

you let out an angry huff and poked at his chest, “it’s not a big deal? really buck? they’re your dog tags, they’re the biggest deal! how could you even say that?”

he tilted his head to the side in confusion, “you’re angry about my dog tags?”

you let out a frustrated groan and moved away from him. as you paced back and forth across the room you tried to explain yourself, “it’s not about that! it’s about everything else! it’s about us. i don’t want to not be a big deal to you. i want to wear your initial on a chain ’round my neck! because you really know me! i want those dog tags to be something we can share. but not if it doesn’t mean anything to you. not if it doesn’t mean to you what it means to me. how i feel about you is a big deal james.”

you sucked in a breath and realized you had stopped pacing. you didn’t dare look up at bucky. you knew he was watching you, could feel his stare. you hadn’t outright admitted your feelings but you might as well have. there were few ways to interpret your words.

you watched his feet step closer towards you, until you were sure that if you looked up you would meet bucky’s intense gaze. he didn’t give you much of a choice, grabbing your chin with his flesh fingers and forcing you too look at him.

his eyes were glittering with something new. some hidden feeling you’d only seen a handful of times. an emotion bucky tried to keep hidden away for a long time.

“doll” he pleaded, not adding anything else.

you shook your head and closed your eyes in an attempt to keep your embarrassed tears at bay. “just say it” you said, just say that you don’t want me like that, that i’ve lost you forever.

you kept your eyes closed as you felt him let go of your chin. you prepared yourself to hear him walking away, closing the door behind him, never to speak to you again. instead, for the second time that night, you felt cold metal on the back of your neck and an unfamiliar weight against your chest.

you opened your eyes and found bucky staring at the chain around your neck. he picked up his hand and caressed your cheek lovingly.

he took a deep breath and both of you prepared for whatever he would say next. “honey. i did one thing right, and that was trust you. it was letting you see all the parts of me, and trusting that you would still want me around. you love my love me like i’m brand new. and it’s all i’ve ever wanted. you, are all i’ve ever wanted.”

he picked up the tags hanging on the chain and rubbed them with his other hand, “this is just another part of me i want you to have. you already own my heart and every other part of me, might as well have my initial ’round your neck too.”

the blush on his cheeks made your own face heat up. you couldn’t quiet comprehend what he was saying, couldn’t accept it as a reality. this whole moment felt like a day dream.

bucky ducked his head down and placed his forehead against yours. you closed your eyes happily. all of the anger and tension from earlier, dissipating from your body, replaced by pure bliss at the feeling of bucky so close to you. the air was charged with something new, and the both of you could feel it. and you both welcomed it.

“hey bucky?” you whispered, still not opening your eyes in fear that it would break whatever spell you two were under.

“yes doll?” he whispered back and you could practically hear the smile he was more than likely wearing as he answered.

"what's this thing between us?” you asked hesitantly.

bucky moved his head away from yours, causing you to open your eyes. he grabbed the sides of your face and grinned like a fool, “call it what you want to, i just know i want you.”

later, as the two of you sat tangled together, closer than ever before, you couldn’t help but touch the dog tags around your neck. now they didn’t feel so foreign. they were familiar, the same way bucky was familiar. bucky traced little patterns on your thigh that night, similar to how he had earlier. but now you felt the distinct outline of little hearts, and you knew that nothing else mattered much when you had bucky.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #james buchanan barnes #bucky barnes x gender neutral reader #bucky barnes x you #marvel au #marvel mcu #mcu #marvel #bucky fluff #happy bucky #bucky

[foodieforthoughts]

Down in History

Summary: Your first award function with Henry as a couple.

Pairing: Henry x Reader

Word count: 1.3k

Warnings: Fluffy comfort

A/N: This is a birthday fic dedicated to the wonderful Lisa (@killjoy-assbutt-1112). Babe you deserve the world and here's to me trying to make your day a little brighter. Hope you enjoy and I'm sorry I'm a day late. 🙈

Also, thank you to @the-soot-sprite for helpful writing tips and @infinite-shite for listening to me talk about this. ❤️

Song inspo:

Title: Down in History

I looked out the window as hordes of paparazzi lined outside to snap a picture of their favorite celebs. The police tried to contain the crowd, failing miserably like I was failing to contain my growing anxiety.

Closing the curtains, I turned to the beautiful dress hanging on the mannequin. It was a gift from Henry for our first red carpet event tonight. I ran a hand lightly over the satin dress, feeling the silky fabric glid smoothly beneath my touch. The bodice was embroidered with silver crystals, glinting as the light caught in them.

I chewed on my bottom lip and wound my arms around my body. I was nervous beyond explanation. The media had dissected our relationship left, right and centre. They had scrutinized Henry for being with a girl who was nearly two decades younger than him, again.

"Miss," Maurice peered from behind the door, her cat-eyed glasses perched low on her nose. "We need to start getting ready." She informed and with a nod from me, she entered with her posse behind her.

I sat on the swirling chair they had placed in front of the mirror. While the ladies got to their work, I took the opportunity to look into my relationship with Henry.

As soon as our meetings became more frequent and the paps started getting more content, our faces started to appear on blogs and websites. My life became an open book with everyone trying to pull it apart piece by piece, commenting on things they had no business getting into. I had a fair idea about Henry's 19 year old ex-girlfriend and how much slack he had gotten for it. It was the sole reason why I was reluctant to officially date him even when he persistently asked for it.

After months of running into each other every day on our daily morning runs, Henry had finally stopped me for a chat one day. I had been a bubbling bundle of nerves when he had asked my name. The sexy Hollywood heartthrob seemed like he had planned on bumping into me that day for his questions seemed like he had memorized them. I wasn't the one to complain and when he had asked if I was free for coffee, I had agreed in a heartbeat.

"He's in the other room, miss. Maurice insisted that this room should be Female Central."

"Where's Henry?" I asked, turning slightly in my seat to look at our assistant sitting on a chair typing on her iPad. "I didn't see him since morning."

"Guilty." Maurice commented as she curled the ends of my hair to fall down my shoulder in waves. "Are you nervous?" She asked, talking to me through the reflection in the mirror.

"Very. I think I'll pass out even before I reach the red carpet."

She tapped lightly on my shoulder. "Don't worry. I heard Henry tell his friend he's not going to leave your side the entire night."

Despite all his efforts, I had once almost broken up with him. Henry had been away for filming and I had stayed back at his house. Somehow my location had gotten out to the public and I had been chased by the paps and fans, asking questions about Henry. I had locked myself in his house, too afraid to go out and when Henry was unavailable for calls because of the time difference, I had been a crying mess. In the heat of the moment, I had texted him that once he is back it is going to be over for us. After a long call later in the night, lots of crying and soothing, we had pulled through.

I felt a flutter in my heart.

Henry had been the most supportive boyfriend in the world. He had been with me through thick and thin, gently easing me in his life. He had promised me that whenever possible, he wouldn't let anyone harm my image in anyway. And he had rightfully held his promise. He had assigned PR representatives to look after my public image and gone as far as to make a big celeb gossip blog retract their article spreading personal information about my life.

Maurice eased me into my dress with the help of her assistants and started making the necessary adjustments to it. I stood with my arms out, looking at myself in the mirror and marveled at the image that looked back at me.

I worried about how people were going to perceive me tonight. They were going to complain how the dress had lost its charm because it was on me. Or they would comment how I look like Henry's child, like they always did. Or maybe this time they'll comment on the way my body was built.

My eyes welled up in tears and I sniffed, looking up and trying to not ruin the makeup. A knock on the door, distracted me from my inner turmoil. I waited for one of the ladies to open it and when they did, the sight in front of me nearly took my breath away.

Henry looked daper in a suit, made to perfectly fit his body. His eyes softened as he took notice of me and he entered through the door to walk towards me. "What's wrong baby?" He asked and took my hands in his.

Maurice and her assistants were done with their work on the dress and they quietly left the room to give us some privacy. I felt my lips tremble as the self doubt began clouding in my mind.

"I-I'm scared." I muttered. The welling tears in my eyes were threatening to fall down.

"But why? I'll be by your side the whole time. You don't have to worry about anything." He reassured me, walking me towards the bed and making me sit beside him.

"They are going to comment on our age," I mumbled quietly, twirling my fingers in a curl, refusing to look at him.

"I don't care, baby. And you shouldn't either. What's important is that we love each other and I accept you for who you are."

I weakly smiled at him as Henry kissed my cheek. The tears were threatening to fall but I managed to blink them away. He held my hand, gently circling his thumb over my skin in circles. I heard him sigh and run his free hand through his hair.

"What?" I asked, worried he had something running in his own mind.

"I was going to do this after the event, but-" He said before sliding down the bed and on his knee.

My mouth fell open, stunned at the turn of events. I stared at him wide eyed as Henry fished out a signature blue Tiffany&Co box from his pocket. He smiled sheepishly at me as I could only stare at him.

"Henry, what are you..."

"Baby, I love you. I have been searching for a person like you my whole life. I have never been happier before in my life. I don't care what people say, all I want is to spend the rest of my life with you." He pressed his lips, trying to breathe calmly. "Will you marry me, baby?"

Henry opened the box leaving me mesmerized by the beautiful double halo diamond ring sitting on the plush velvet cushion. But it wasn't the ring that made me cry, it was the love that seemed to be overflowing from within me for this man. I didn't care about the ruined makeup, nor the sobbing mess I was becoming.

I barely could nod a 'yes', before Henry with tears in his eyes smiled brightly up at me. He sat up and pulled me in for a hug as I wound my arms around his neck. He kissed my lips softly, before he pulled the ring out of its box. I bit my lip and watched as he slid the platinum band on my finger, overwhelmed by the rush of emotions as it sat snugly around my slim digit.

"Now, let's go to the event and let everyone know that you aren't just my girlfriend, but also my future wife." Henry said before kissing me until I couldn't breathe.

#Henry Cavill #Henry Cavill fanfic #Henry Cavill x reader #Henry Cavill rpf #Rpf #Lisa's birthday fic