#i filled out my OWN school forms since at least middle school

[ace-no-isha]

i’m literally a mother why am i enrolling my brother into a school rn

#eldest asian daughter yadda yadda yadda #i’m not even the oldest but i’ve always been the one who filled out the school forms #i filled out my OWN school forms since at least middle school #i always say my family functioned like two little sets of siblings for the longest #me being the eldest of the younger four and my older sister dealing with my brother #but i did HIS school registration too #screams #i’m the eldest daughter at home rn tho lol #older sister moved #i am so tired #i can’t wait to move out too one day

[luxaofhesperides]

For the ghostlights drabbles: “Say my name” with a favor being called in?

Duke had saved Phantom years ago, back when he was just out of high school and working to take down a branch of the government that was kidnapping and experimenting on people, targeting magic users and metas. Phantom had been working on his own to take them down, and they met in the middle, trashing a lab and freeing as many people as they could.

They had managed to shoot his back, knocking him down and making him bleed a glowing green. Phantom couldn’t move, protecting two kids with his body, and Duke couldn’t reach them in time before they were taken away by another swarm of agents. 

He was able to go after them in time, free Phantom and the kids, and evacuated the victims before Phantom rained hell down on the facility.

At the end, standing in the background as they watched paramedics treat the victims and take them towards the nearest hospitals, Phantom had turned towards him and thanked him.

Or rather, he thanked the Signal and offered him a bracelet with a rounded orb of ice, glowing faintly in the dark. If you ever need me, he had said, Hold this, and call me name.

Phantom vanished once the last of the victims were transported to a safer location, and Duke hadn’t seen him since.

He’s kept up with news about Phantom as best he can, but from what he could tell, Phantom is based primarily in Amity Park, Illinois, and the town is fiercely protective of their hero. News rarely leaks out of there, and with them running on their own servers and independent internet, it was nearly impossible to get in from the outside. 

Phantom remained a curious and distant figure in Duke’s life. He holds onto the bracelet still, guarding it carefully and sometimes running his fingers over the ice that never melts.

But he doesn’t call in that favor. He’s never to.

At least, not until now.

Sucking in a breath, Duke prepares himself and holds the orb of ice in the palm of his hand. He’s in civies, unable to hide his identity for this, and closes his eyes. “Phantom,” he says.

For a moment, nothing happens. Duke blinks his eyes open and frowns, mind already forming new plans to contact Phantom. Then the ice goes bitingly cold, almost painful, and the temperature in the room drops dramatically. The ice lifts up from his hand, floating in the air, then cracks open.

White-blue light spills out of it, growing brighter as it seems to swallow up the room entirely. Duke hurries to back up, an arm thrown up to protect his eyes. His breath mists out before him and he shivers as the sound of ice cracking fills the room.

And then, just as suddenly as it started, the light disappears and the cold fades away like a bad dream. 

Slowly, Duke lowers his arm and looks up at Phantom, floating in the middle of his living room with a crown made of ice, engulfed in blue fire, hovers above his head. He looks older, more regal, holding his head high. 

He regards Duke carefully for a minute, then tilts his head and says, “Signal?”

“Yeah, it’s me. Man, I’m so glad you came.”

“You… need help with something? You’re calling in your favor now, right?”

Duke nods. He understands Phantom’s confusion; being in the hero business means that favors like these tend to be used only during the most hopeless of times, when the world is close to ending, when the chances of getting out of a situation alive is close to impossible. It’s exactly the kind of thing Duke was expecting to call Phantom in for.

Not the kid sleeping on his couch.

“You’re a ghost, yeah?”

Phantom blinks at him. “Ghost king, now. Why?”

“Well…” Duke rubs the back of his neck, nervously. “I didn’t really know who else to call, and I can’t do this on my own since I’m not a ghost. But this kid got attached to me and won’t leave, so now I’m taking care of her and I have no idea what I’m doing.”

“I don’t know why you think I have any experience with kids but—”

“She’s a ghost.”

Phantom stops short. “Ah. I see.” He floats down until his feet touch the floor, and then he’s standing like any other person. “Where…?”

Duke looks past Phantom’s shoulder, and Phantom turns to follow his gaze. Chelsea, the ghost girl, looks to be around nine years old and is fast asleep on the couch, curled up under Duke’s softest blanket.

“Signal,” Phantom says quietly, “What, exactly, is the favor you need from me?”

“You can say no,” Duke starts. “I get that this is a lot. But I need help raising her. And since you’re a ghost, I figured you could help me learn about the ghostly side of things. You don’t have to raise her with me or anything! Just… I would appreciate any help you’re willing to give me.”

Phantom doesn’t say no. He doesn’t say anything. He just stares down at Chelsea, an unreadable expression on his face. 

On the couch. Chelsea shifts in her sleep, brows furrowing as she makes a choked noise in the back of her throat.

Moving on autopilot after so many nights of this routine, Duke kneels next to the couch, fishing one of her hands from beneath the blanket. He gives it a few reassuring squeezes, keeping it a slow rhythm to pull her gently from her nightmare. She settles down in just a minute, brow smoothing out as she continues to sleep. 

The silence grows and Duke is all too aware that his heart is the only one beating. 

He doesn’t hear Phantom move. Doesn’t realize he’s right next to him until he sees Phantom’s hand reach out towards Chelsea. When Duke looks, Phantom is sitting on the floor next to Duke, looking at Chelsea with something soft and devastated in his eyes. His hand hovers about her head for a long moment, then slowly lowers to rest on her head. 

The touch looks gently, barely putting any pressure on her head, but it’s enough to make Chelsea’s eyes snap open, suddenly wide awake. She stares at Phantom with wide eyes, then sits up and looks between him and Duke.

“Who are you?” she asks in a small voice that makes Duke want to stand against the world to keep her safe. 

Phantom smiles. It’s casual and charming and makes him look like anyone else, as if he’s not a powerful king from a realm unreachable to humans. “Hi there,” he says, “I’m Danny. I’m a ghost like you. Signal called me and asked me to meet you.”

The Ghost King is good with kids. Who would have thought?

Chelsea looks at him for confirmation and only relaxes when he nods. “I’m Chelsea. What do you mean ghost? I’m not dead.”

Both he and Phantom tense, carefully keeping their expressions neutral. She hasn’t told him much at all, just that her parents were gone and forgot her and she got hurt, so she wanted to stay with ‘Mr. Signal’ because he’s a hero and heroes keep people safe and he was the only one who was Black like her. Duke hadn’t had the heart to say no, and began searching for her family, only to find that her parents had fled the state, and likely the country, after killing their only child through neglect and a dangerous environment. 

It was then that he realized that her powers were not because she was a meta, but because she was ghost.

It still hurts to realize how young she is, how much of her life had been stolen from her in an instant. Duke hadn’t been brave enough to broach the topic with her, instead choosing to let her grow comfortable in his presence, get them both settled into a routine now that he was her primary guardian. 

“I know it sounds scary,” Phantom says, “And you may not want to believe me, but it’s true. I’m sorry that you died so young, but that just means you get to hang out with me and other ghosts from now on!”

Chelsea crosses her arms over her chest and glares at him. “I am not dead,” she says.

“Cici, I’m sorry to say this, but you are,” Duke cuts in. “That’s why I called… Danny. You have new powers as a ghost, and he can help you get used to them.”

“I’m not dead!” she says again.

“Kid,” Phantom begins, but Chelsea shakes her head hard and hops off the couch.

“I’m not lying! Watch, I’ll prove it to you!” She closes her eyes and scrunches up her nose, concentrating. Her hands curl into tight fists by her sides, and the glow around her grows dim. Two faint, stuttering rings of light appear around her waist. They flicker and wobble in the air, as if weak and uncertain of their own existence, then split apart, one moving up towards her head while the other falls to her feet.

Beside him, Phantom sucks in a sharp breath, but Duke can’t turn to see what’s wrong when he’s trying to take in the sight of Chelsea suddenly full of vibrant color, looking more solid that he’s ever seen her, very much alive.

“See?” she says proudly, lifting her arms and doing a spin to show off her right she was. “I told you I’m not dead!”

“No, you’re not,” Phantom agrees, sounding shell-shocked. When Duke is finally able to look away from Chelsea to check on him, he looks awed. There’s the smallest smile on his face, just the slightest upturn of his lips, but it makes him look softer.

Duke turns his attention back to Chelsea before he can be caught staring. “Cici, can you come here for a second?”

She goes before he’s finished speaking, crossing the space between them in a single jump, then grins up at him. Her hair is a bit of a mess, the two buns he managed to get her hair into falling askew. He makes a note to visit the old aunties in the Narrows later to ask them to teach him how to do hair. For now, he holds out a hand and Chelsea drops an arm into it.

It seems to good to be true, having her be alive, but her pulse is steady and strong when he presses his thumb against the inside of her wrist. 

“Well,” he says, leaning back and letting go of her arm. “You certainly proved us wrong.”

Chelsea doesn’t have much time to look smug before PHantom quietly says, “You’re like me.”

“What?”

“You’re like me,” he tells Chelsea. “A halfa.”

She tilts her head to one side. “What’s that?”

“Someone who is half human and half ghost. Both dead and alive.”

Duke blinks, taking in the words, then turns to face Phantom so quickly he’s worried he might give himself whiplash. Halfa, he said. Like me, he said. 

And sure enough, two rings of light, bright and strong, appear around Phantom’s waist before splitting in half, moving over his entire body. 

Gone is the Ghost King, all powerful and adorned in dark clothing with a crown of ice above his head. In his place is a guy who looks to be Duke’s age, eyes a deep blue and his black hair messy, feet set solidly on the floor. He looks completely normal, completely human, and no longer an impossibility.

“You still up for learning how to use all your new powers?” Phantom asks.

Chelsea grins. “Yeah!” And then, with a quick flick of her eyes going from Phantom to Duke that he almost misses, very innocently asks, “Are you going to stay with us then?”

“I… don’t know?” Phantom looks to Duke for an answer.

Already, Duke can see this going two ways. The correct way forward, the normal one, has Phantom popping in every so often, taking Chelsea out for a few hours to work on training her and her powers. It’s easy and routine and they can keep their boundaries uncrossed and be professional. 

The other path is what Duke wants most that he shouldn’t impose onto the literal Ghost King. He could have Phantom living with them while he’s on Earth and out of Amity Park, having a place at the table, a section in the closet for his own clothes, a quietly domestic night together while Chelsea sleeps where they can get to know each other more, get to know each other outside of news reports and texts on a screen.

“You can stay with us if you want,” Duke offers, casually, “It might keep my apartment safe from her powers acting up on their own again.”

“Are you sure? I could always just fly in on the weekends or something.”

“I’d appreciate having you around. So you can help Cici.”

“If you don’t mind,” Phantom says, looking away. Like this, fully alive with a beating heart, it’s easy to see the blush steal away across his cheeks. 

“I don’t.”

“I don’t either!” Chelsea pops in, looking far too gleeful by their awkward conversation.

Duke can’t help but laugh, feeling lighter than he had in ages. The relief of knowing that Chelsea is alive, for the most part at least, eases the guilt of thinking he had been too late to save her, that there was no chance she could have made it out and had a future, makes him feel weak. All the exhaustion of the past few weeks hits him all at once and he wants nothing more than to collapse in bed and sleep for twelve hours.

“Alright, squirt,” he says, reaching out to pat her head. “It’s late. We can talk more in the morning, so go to bed. In your actual bed this time, not on the couch.”

Chelsea stands up taller, ready to argue, but Duke gives her a Look™ and she quickly shuts her mouth, nods, and drags her feet back to her room (the former guestroom he can never give any of the other Waynes ever again, once they find out about her). 

Sighing, Duke collapses onto the couch once he hears the door shut behind her. Phantom joins him after a few seconds, sitting tentatively on the edge of the couch. The cushion moves beneath his weight, another reminder of how solid and alive he is right not.

Duke wants to touch him, to reach out and feel for himself his pulse, the warmth of his body, his chest lifting with each breath. 

He doesn’t move. He stays where he is, hands carefully still, and tries to think past the dizzying thoughts of she’s still alive, I’m not too late, he’s still here, he’s alive.

“Rough week?” Phantom asks, voice purposefully light.

“Something like that.”

“You should get some sleep too.”

“I don’t think I can. Not after everything. My mind’s too loud right now.”

Phantom shifts closer to him, hesitant in a way that Duke has never seen before in him, and asks, “Want me to stay with you until you mind quiets down some?”

“Yeah. I’d like that. Thanks, Phantom.”

“You know, if I’m going to be around so often as Chelsea’s halfa mentor, then you might as well call me Danny.”

Truth be told, Duke didn’t think that was his real name. He’s glad to know it’s not. 

“Then call me Duke.”

“...Are you sure? You could still hide your identity from me.”

“Nah, I trust you. A name for a name, yeah?”

Danny smiles. “Duke,” he says, testing out the name, and it’s never sounded better than when it falls from Danny’s mouth.

“Danny,” Duke returns. He belatedly realizes that they’ve leaned towards each other, drawn together like gravity, stuck in each other’s orbit. It feels natural. It feels like this is where they’re meant to be.

Maybe he should be more cautious. They’ve only meant once before, after all. But he’s read all he could on Phantom and has seen how Amity Park loves him. He’s stressed and exhausted and trying to figure out how to look after a half-ghost child that’s already been dealt a bad hand in life. He should be keeping Phantom at a distance, watching over him carefully to ensure he isn’t a threat to Chelsea.

But Duke saw how he acted with Chelsea, so gentle and understanding and kind. That’s all he needed to see.

He may not know much about Danny, but he knows this: he is trustworthy.

Enough to entrust his identity to him.

Enough to entrust Chelsea to him.

It’s more than a favor; it’s a promise to walk this road together. 

There’s no one he’d rather do this with. 

“Thanks,” he says again, “For all of this. I know it’s a lot.”

Danny shrugs. “I don’t mind. Really. It’s nice to know there’s another halfa out there, no matter how she came to be one. Makes things feel less lonely.”

“Will you tell me more about halfas?”

“Later. Once you get some proper rest. We’ve got time, haven’t we?”

“We do,” Duke agrees, affection settling warm in his chest. “We’ve got plenty of time.”

Learning how to control her new powers won’t be easy for Chelsea. Learning how to take care of her won’t be easy. Learning how to do things together, as Duke and Danny rather than the Signal and Phantom, won’t be easy. But Duke knows with a certainty he feels in his bones that they’re going to be fine.

So long as they’ve got each other, they’ll be fine.

#ghostlights #dc x dp #dp x dc #dcxdp #dpxdc #dc x dp fic #prompt fill #my writing #thought a lot abt what the favor could be but i could not resist the idea of surprise co-parents once i thought of it #here's a kid who clings to someone she knows is safe bc she is scared and alone!! #heres a stressed out hero trying to take care of a kid with no knowledge of how to do that!! and the kid is a ghost!! #heres a ghost king expecting to be used as a weapon and called in for a big battle suddenly finding another halfa!!! #so much going on here. so much to think abt with this!!!!! #i do love found family like this where they all kinda stumble into it and do their best to make it good #also could not resist making yet another oc. chelsea has my whole heart i love her <3 shes my daughter first #the bats dont know abt chelsea yet!! bc she can go invisble. its all been instinct every time they pop over to visit duke #soon she'll be able to control it and meet them properly #by properly i mean dukes gonna go over for sunday brunch and a little girl is gonna pop out from behind him like 'hi! im new!' #they will all love her of course. they will be shocked but happy!! #and a little less happy abt the GHOST KING duke has been hiding in his apartment that hes co-parenting with #sorry for the long tags im obsessed w this idea i want to Expand on it #maybe one day... with my other wips out of the way...

[short-black-diamond]

Could you maybe do one where Izuku x reader where he forgets his kids birthday and then give maybe a happy or sad ending. Like if sad then maybe like reader and his kid go to his office and see him drinking and talking with his friends and then the kid, 5 years old or smth, runs out and the reader is like so dissapointed in him and then Izuku realises what he's done.

i really like your writing style so i would like to see how you play out this scenario.

Thanks <3

AWW, no the poor kid...

Also thanks for complimenting my writng style! I didn't know I had one but good to know! And you guys have a daughter cuz you didn't tell me the gender and bla bla bla. Also I changed it a little with the office part and it gets suggestive in the end but not too much, I hope that's okay with you...

Happy reading!

I forgot, I'm sorry!

---

Summary: In which your daughter gets sad by her father's absence on her birthday.

You were happy in your relationship with Izuku. Everything was not alright, considering your husband's constant absence, but you guys managed. What you didn't like however, is how he always used the excuse of having to fight a villain or something which would ruin important dates the two of you had. the first date you two had when meeting up for a blind date, five minutes late. First anniversary, ten minutes late, okay. First meeting with the doctor for possible pregnancy, fifteen minutes. Birthing the child? Had to fight a villain, sorry! You kind of hoped that Izuku would at least try to not be late for your daughter's birthday, as it arrived in a month, and you even told him multiple times so that he wouldn't forget. But, it seemed like all your efforts of warning him and discussing things with him went out the roof when he didn't pick up the phone to play hero with your daughter and her friends on her special day. your offspring was looking at you with a sad frown and you swore you'd kill Izuku for not being there for your daughter. After the party was over; speak, her falling asleep in her little room and you waiting for Izuku to arrive, you cleaned everything up. And then, only then when you put away the last piece of popped balloon did the front door open. A drunken Izuku stumbled into the corridor, laughing giddily and you'd have beaten the living shit out of him if he only were sober. When he caught sight of your pretty face, he cooed at you. "Awwww, my sweet wife is thereeee! How are youuuuuuuu?", he sang, trying to get out of his shoes. Meanwhile, you were only frowning at him. When he didn't get an answer form you, he lifted his head from his shoelaces and saw your angry face. "Wha's wron'?", he slurred and you felt your face growing hotter by the minute. "What's wrong? You went out to fucking drink on your daughter's birthday, Izuku!", you whisper-yelled, not wanting her to find out about the argument you two would have. You stopped drinking the moment you received the news of your daughter in your belly and didn't consume a droplet ever since. You hoped Izuku would stop too. Right now, Izuku was frowning at you. "Her...her birthday...was...t-today?", and he seemed to wake up from the drowsiness, suddenly completely sober -if that's even possible- and wanted to go to her room but stopped when he saw her tiny figure by the doorframe.

"...you forgot about my birthday?", she asked, her eyes filling with big tears and she frowned angryly. "I-I'm sorry sweetie, I didn't mean to!"

She just cried and you took her in your arms before frowning at your husband. "Go take a shower and then we'll talk-" "I don' wanna talk do daddy! Daddy's stupid! He forgot mah birthday!", your child yelled at him and buried her head in the crook of your neck and nearly suffocating you with her arms around your neck. You understood your daughter's pain, having lived through that as well with your own father who always mixed up your age and your birthday, heck, he even thought you were still in middle school when you were in high-school. You couldn't believe that Izuku would have actually forgotten about it though, I mean, she's his daughter, no?

Izuku felt like crying too and went into the bathroom. After a few minutes, Izuku stepped out and held something behind him, calling your daughter's name to grab her attention. She reluctangly pouted at him, still holding onto you who was stroking her back while she sniffed. He showed her a dynamite action plushie and she sqealed in delight upon getting such a gift, it was limited edition after all. She hopped off your lap and you chuckled, your own anger melting away by the lovely father-daughter interaction and recording Izuku's cries for pleading for feorgiveness from your child who was giggling in delight. You wished there were more moments like these.

While your child was playing with the toy which resembled one of your close friends and Izuku's childhood rival, Izuku himself felt like his soul was flying out of his mouth. "I'm glad she's not mad...but why Kacchan?" You huffed in amusement before nudging him. "At least you didn't forget about buying her a gift beforehand. Also...why don't you take some time off? You're barely spending time with us these past days."

What you said was true, and even though you were still mad at him for not being there on her birthday, you couldn't help but feel bad for being mad at him. Izuku had so much on his shoulders and you wanted to take that weight from him.

Izuku groaned while nodding, feeling sleepy all of a sudden. That's when your daughter chimed her sauce into the conversation as well. "I wanna be an older sister, daddy! I want a younger sibling for my next birthday!"

Safe to say that Izuku fulfilled that wish the moment your daughter fell sound asleep and you got your world rocked yet again.

---

Bruh... I kinda cringed towards the end because I wanted it to be like, y'know, wholesome but because I'm also a huge perv so I wrote a sentence ending like that aaaannnnnd yea, I hope that was good or even half of what you were expecting.

Also, please tell me if it was good or not because this is like my third request or so, so I'm not really that used to receiving stuff like that. But it was fun! I am always happy to get requests from you guys!

Read you in the next post!

#deku x reader #deku headcanons #deku bnha #mha deku #deku midoriya #bnha deku #deku smut #midoriya izuku #kacchan #izuku midoriya #izuku x reader #midoriya x reader #izuku midoriya x reader

[rotationalsymmetry]

I love libraries.

One time I found this book in the library -- I'll just go to a library and wander around the shelves and grab a book that catches my interest -- called "why people die by suicide" by someone who both has a relevant professional background and who had a father who committed suicide, so he was pretty invested in figuring out why. As was I.

People. The book didn't talk aboht chemical imbalances. It offered up two main reasons why people want to kill themselves -- perceived lack of belonging, and perceived being a burden -- and talked about the difference between someone who wants to die and someone who goes through with it, which is largely about how much (I think he meant physical) pain they've already been exposed to -- suicide is a very extreme form of self injury, and people generally have guards against self injury unless something has happened to take them away. Which is part of why past suicide attempts, even ones that didn't have a realistic chance of ending in death, are the main predictor of suicide, basically sometimes people need to start small and work themselves up.

This very much checks out with my own experiences. Sort of peak wanting to die for me was when I was 21, it's not exactly that things had gotten worse relative to my teenage years (my teenage years sucked) but suddenly now I was supposed to be an adult and I went abruptly from succeeding at high school with flying colors, to failing miserably at doing the sorts of things adults are supposed to do. And agonizingly conscious of how much my college education, which I was not paying for, was costing. And at the same time I was having attempts at connection that were failing. Lack of connection, feeling like a burden.

And overall, the two things that most reliably affect how much I want to die are being in a relationship or not (and if I'm in a relationship, whether we're in the middle of a big scary conflict)c and whether I'm working or not. That's kind of settled down now that I haven't been working since early 2016, apart from a small amount of transcription, because I've mostly made peace with being disabled and not being able to do that shit, but I'm able to do that because I'm married to someone who does in fact earn enough for both of us.

It was also pretty huge when I went from assuming that being able to talk about very personal stuff had to happen within the context of a very close relationship with someone who'd always be there for me to talk, to realizing that actually a discussion group of near strangers worked very well for that as long as there was some mechanism to let me take my time and not get interrupted. Absolutely liberating. As a side note, I'm not in a group like that right now, but...I gotta say tumblr's been largely filling that role. Tumblr in Reddit. I get to go off about whatever and take as long as I want and no one interrupts me, and maybe strictly speaking it'd be better for me to be face to face with people listening and taking it in, I don't know, but just being able to get it out where at least in theory other people can read it is still pretty huge.

and private journaling is lovely and I very much needed that as a teenager, but I think there is a different quality when it's not private. But is anonymous :-)

#suicide cw #rotationalsymmetry original post

[jeonqkooks]

strictly platonic | jjk (teaser)

READ THE FULL FIC HERE. posted 17.07.22

Sometimes, Jungkook can be a little selfish; and sometimes, the lengths you would go to for his happiness mean relinquishing your own.

pairing: jungkook x reader

genre/warnings: best friends to lovers, college au, fake dating(ish) au, pining!, fluff, angst, smut

release date: TBD. hopefully by the beginning of july

word count: 788 for the teaser (final word count should be at least 10k, we shall see)

note: posting the teaser to actually put some pressure on me to finish this fic instead of letting it collect dust among my wips. also can y’all tell that i got lazy with the banner lol 😭

— if you’d like to be tagged when the fic gets released, go here and fill out the form ♡

Over the years, you have accumulated a list of annoying things about Jeon Jungkook.

He’s very loud, and has absolutely zero subtlety. He’s competitive—perhaps to an alarming extent—and chews with his mouth open sometimes. He’s way too stubborn for his own good and would rather eat soap than admit he’s in the wrong. He’s childish and full of pride at the same time, which is always a combination for disaster.

He can be selfish though he doesn’t mean to; maybe it’s just a side effect of being an overgrown baby. He needs to cuddle when either of you sleeps over, or else he gets agitated and won’t stop whining until you slot yourself into his side.

Jungkook hogs the blanket. He forces you to go on 6AM runs with him. He thinks everything you own is also his by extension, but not vice versa. He constantly blasts music while you’re trying to study, and only turns it down a couple notches when you threaten to tell his mom about that time he was in middle school and broke one of her precious vases, but somehow managed to pin it on the dog.

Despite all that, Jungkook is very charming, effortlessly so. Ever since he had that growth spurt at 14, girls started flocking to his side and vying for his attention, and surprisingly, his previously quiet self morphed into someone more confident and outspoken.

Throughout high school and now halfway into university, Jungkook has become the person that guys wanted to be, and girls wanted to be with.

He looks as if Apollo had descended from the heavens and made himself home among mere mortals. With fluffy dark hair, sparkly Bambi eyes, a jawline that can cut glass, and a well-toned body underneath his oversized hoodies, he’s the textbook definition of “boyfriend material”. Wherever he goes, Jungkook just exudes that charisma that makes people stop and say, “Wow. That. I want that. Where do I get myself someone like that? Do they sell them on Amazon?”

He’s smart in that casual and infuriating way where he still manages to ace all his classes without ever really trying. All his professors adore him even though he’s almost always late to class and hands in his assignments at least a few days after the submission deadline without giving any kind of notice or excuse.

Jungkook seems like the total package—someone that mothers would love to call their son-in-law. (But, not everyone is privy to all his flaws like you are.)

And if all of that isn’t enough to knock the pants off of every wide-eyed college-aged girl, he’s a Fine Arts major who looks like he came straight out of a Pinterest moodboard, who wears a pair of those thin-rimmed glasses in class that always makes the TA just a little distracted. Who carries around a leather-bound journal wherever he goes like he’s a Shakespearean protagonist, just in case inspiration strikes and he needs a place for his sketches. It’s the journal that you saved up for three months to get him as a high school graduation gift, but also the very same one that everyone on campus daydreams about having a page dedicated to them in it.

There are, however, a couple of downsides to having godly looks and being the campus heartthrob.

You reckon this inconveniences you more than it does him. You can’t recall how many girls have come up to you for advice on how to approach him. Or how many love notes you’ve been asked to pass since ninth grade, only for him to skim and toss them.

(Jungkook doesn’t actually throw them away; he just never responds to any of them, thereby bestowing upon you the honor of watching smiles drop from eager lips when you regurgitate the same lines of “Sorry, he’s not looking to date right now” to his admirers.)

The attention gets to his head sometimes, but at least he’s never contracted the same asshole disease that guys get whenever someone throws a couple of looks their way.

You’re his messenger of heartbreak, as he once so annoyingly called it. It helps that he’s your best friend, and you make him treat you to a nice meal after each time. If it happens to be someone especially persistent who would constantly badger you unless you gave them his phone number, he would throw in five extra coffees for all your troubles.

What doesn’t make it easier, though, is the fact that you’re also one of those lovestruck girls whose hearts he breaks on a daily basis, but you’ll never let him in on that little secret.

You’ve known him nearly all your life, and you’ve been in love with him for half that time.

— all rights reserved © jeonqkooks. reposting, translating and/or modifying is not permitted by any means.

#jungkook #jungkook x reader #jungkook fluff #jungkook smut #jungkook angst #bts fic #bts x reader #bts fluff #bts smut #bts angst #bts scenarios #jeon jungkook #fic: strictly platonic

[thehiddenbaroness]

15 People, 15 Questions

I was tagged by @plumcoloredblazer -- sorry it took me a hot minute to get to it! I appreciate it. <3

1. Are you named after anyone?

I've long disliked that none of my names are 'mine', in that both my first and middle names are from other people -- my first is my maternal grandfather's middle name (which he also sorta went by), while my middle name is my mother's middle name (which she went by when we moved to the UK).

2. When was the last time you cried?

I had a few frustrated tears over the weekend, but it's rare nowadays that I actually cry-cry.

3. Do you have kids?

I do not, unless you count the two fur-babies. No intention to.

4. What sports do you play/have you played?

I played field (read: astroturf) hockey for a few years in middle school; before that, I was a dancer (yes I count dance as a sport). Lately I'm not really a sporty type but I am getting more active.

5. Do you use sarcasm?

Moi?

6. What’s the first thing you notice about people?

Usually what comes out of their mouth, but also how they carry themselves -- do they look interested in where they are? Are they engaged with what's at hand? Do they have good posture? Are they trying to shrink into themselves? Are they oblivious to being in someone's way? Are they close to the gap?

7. What’s your eye color?

Dark brown.

8. Scary movies or happy endings?

Err...I hesitate to say neither, because while I don't like scary movies and don't *dislike* a happy ending, movies with ambiguous/bittersweet or even tragic endings are typically the ones I've enjoyed more.

9. Any talents?

Writing, I'd like to think. I'm organized and efficient. I have a deep well of empathy and understanding and feel like I'm good at helping folks wrestle with life's troubles. I'm a spice sorceress.

10. Where were you born?

Baton Rouge, Louisiana.

11. What are your hobbies?

Writing (who knew?), history (especially art and natural, and archeology), reading, word games, languages, organizing and decorating, gaming somewhat, jigsaw puzzles, travel.

12. Do you have any pets?

We have two! Molly, our sensitive and loving Shepinois (German Shepherd and Belgian Malinois mix), and Penny, our eccentric and brave gray/peach dilute calico shorthair.

13. How tall are you?

A delightfully average 5'4; as my mother used to say, at least I don't have to bend down as far if I drop something.

14. Favorite subject in school?

I actually had a love/hate relationship with English since it was the one I was most invested in, but I liked it the most because I did the best in it.

15. Dream job?

Taking this to mean more of an occupation than a *job* -- since I think if something is a job it's not especially enjoyable or rewarding -- the answer is perhaps obvious: a published fiction author. But really, I want to be occupied with my writing, tending our dream house in the woods, making my own salves and tinctures, reading, entertaining close friends with the finer things. I'd like to be occupied with love in its different forms, and for my time to be largely my own.

===

No pressure, those of you who I'm tagging! Just something to perhaps fill an idle few minutes. @ohtobealady, @in-a-storm-glass, @dahliasgloom, @malglories, @webedragons, @oftwodarkmoons, @lastoftheptolemies, @daughter-rhaenyra, @karrova, @ofallingstar, @marrogerson, @naryamirie, @aryasnow, @modernamericangirl, @saffron-mantled-dawn

#scrapsofbiography #tag game

[dragonmuse]

@idfk42 Glorious! But now I want this story… the AU of the AU’s AU! How deep does the rabbit hole go?! (I don’t care, I’m here to the deepest point.)

@robinade I’m with idfk42, I love every iteration of this au, including the AUs of the AU (with an AU tangent 😆)

I think we all know what I've gone and done. It's time for another AU of the Au of the Au in bulleted list form. The rabbit hole continues every onward, I devour my own tail.

-The fearsome foursome stay friends naturally. Their ages are adjusted for this au so they’re all the same age. 

-Stede will not let Izzy get away with not applying for college. Izzy threatens, bluffs and eventually just writes the essay and fills everything out and lets Stede do what he wants with it. Faith and Mary work on theirs together.  Izzy gets into a decent state school with a scholarship thanks to some very liberal editing to his essay by Stede and his actually not awful grades. Faith and Mary get into a prestigious school close by. 

-”Where are you applying, Bonnet?”  “Oh, you know, just a few schools with good business programs.”  “You fucking hate business.”  “Yes, but my father-” “Yeah, no, where do you actually want to fucking go?”  Izzy, Mary and Faith bully Stede into applying to a fashion program under the guise of a ‘business for fashion’ degree which his father hates, but Stede has financial breakdowns of the industry that Izzy produced and convinces him it’s a smart move or at least is annoying enough that his dad agrees to make him stop.

-Look. Faith still dies. There’s no easy way to say it. Izzy has to call Mary and tell her and then won’t come to the phone at all. He assumes they’ll leave him alone now since Faith was the glue between them. 

-Instead, Mary and Stede show up with very nice luggage, pack all his shit and move him in quietly to Stede’s family’s second home until it’s time for school to start and they both lie more than they’ve ever lied in their lives so they can spend those three weeks together. Mary and Stede cry the tears that Izzy can't. They stumble through grief. They try to keep busy by kitting Izzy out for college, so despite being entirely broke, he shows up to his dorm with everything a rich kid could imagine you would need.

-Their friendship becomes an iron bond. They hold her memory between them.  Izzy, as he is practically designed to do, quietly swears his loyalty to these two fools for the rest of his life. 

-Stede’s college experience is very...eye opening.   And yet when his father demands that he marry That Girl or So Help You in the middle of his sophmore year, Stede goes to Izzy to help pick out the ring. 

-”No.”  “What do you mean no?”  “No you’re not marrying her.”  “Why not?” “Because I’m not sitting here watching you two be fucking miserable for the next million years. First off, it’s boring. Second, it’s pathetic. And third, it’s nauseating. I will puke on you, Bonnet.”  “There’s no need. I don't actually want...I mean, I do love her.”  “Yeah, so do I and you don’t see me proposing.”  “That’s different.”  “It’s not.”  

-Stede calls Mary instead and they talk about their options. They decide to fake a long engagement and that will get them out with their degrees at least.  Izzy, relieved, continues on with his very monastic life. He doesn’t have time to go find trouble because between making sure Stede passes all his math classes, spending hours in Mary’s studio space at her school learning a little second hand, doing his own schoolwork and stocking grocery shelves for spending money, who has the fucking time? 

-”I think I might be interested in men,”  “Yeah, no shit, Bonnet.”  “See this is why I picked you to come out to first. No drama. Just insults.” “Who insulted you?”  “I know how you feel about gay people.” “Trust me, you really truly fucking don’t. You want to go get a boyfriend, go get a fucking boyfriend.” Maybe I just want to...um. Get laid.”   “Say it with a straight face and I’ll believe you.” “I think the point is that I don’t have a straight face.” “Fuck off and go tell Mary, she’ll probably be supportive or something.” 

- They all graduate and Stede tells his father that he will not be getting married. His father can sort of stomach that, but then Stede says he wants to start a fashion line. As the designer. And that’s a bridge too far. He disowns him. Mary’s parents are slightly more forgiving, but they do decide she could use a year of ‘making it on her own and see how she likes it’. 

-There’s an apartment that Izzy gets them and there is a very frustrating couple of months as Mary and Stede figure out life without a lot of money. Izzy sits down and teaches them both to budget so there’s enough to pay the rent. They both say thank you a lot and try their best . Izzy still sort of wants to murder them both all the time.  He gets an accounting job and realizes that as difficult as the two of them can be, he can tolerate them far more than any of the stiffs in suits. They are actually, and don’t tell fucking Bonnet he even thought this, pretty good people.

-Mary charms and family connections her way into a job as admin assistant at a gallery. Stede accidentally gets a nannying gig.   

-In an incident that probably was inevitable, Stede and Izzy get two drinks in on a night Mary isn’t home and goad each other into a messy makeout. This being an area Stede actually has a head start on, he gives a persuasive argument into why they shouldn’t stop and Izzy caves. They start having sex with each other when they both feel like it.  They do not have feelings for each other. They still snipe at each other constantly. 

-Stede designs his heart out. He hustles a lot and finally gets a job at a big fashion house not yet designing, but at least in the realm. Mary shows her work in a small alumni show and sells her first painting. Izzy gets a raise and a concerned suggestion he use his vacation time once and a while. 

-Mary, who never does learn whatever lesson her parents were trying to teach her, is welcomed back into the fold anyway. When she meets a very decent man that she likes very much, she finally moves out and now in their late twenties, Stede and Izzy are left with each other. 

-This is fine. They both date periodically. But they are both not very good at it. Izzy gets sick of Stede moping about not making more progress in his career and sits him down again and makes him make a five year plan. Does Izzy have one? What does he need one for? He doesn’t have dreams. Dreams are for dreamers. 

-Stede makes clothes and makes clothes, filling their apartment with fabric and constantly asks Izzy for his opinions until Izzy starts having them. One very painful day when Izzy’s head is in his grief (like he’s going to stop grieving her. Someone has to do it), Stede presents him with an outfit. It’s not flashy or feminine, but it’s well made and flattering and the shirt is his favorite shade of blue. 

-Look. Izzy gets feelings. It’s a thing that happens to him. But not for Stede fucking Bonnet, okay? He tells Mary that when they are both very drunk and she doesn’t laugh in his face because she’s a very good friend.

-”Bonnet.”  “Hands. Are we being formal over toast again?” “Listen.” “All ears.” “I think we might be...in a relationship.” “No. Surely not?” “You’re wearing my shirt in an apartment we’ve shared for five years and you haven't used your own bed for two of those.”  “Is this your shirt?” “Yes- that’s not the point.” “It’s a little the point, I like this shirt.” “Fuck me.” “On the breakfast table?” “We only have one table, you fucking- stop it.”  “Stop what?” “BONNET”

-They do eventually agree that they have an informal, sort-of relationship. Nothing anyone is taking seriously.They will continue to date other people. 

-Stede shows at smaller indy shows. Then slightly bigger indy shows. Then he and Izzy write out a business plan and with all the optimistic energy only Stede can summon, he starts to look for investors. And gets them. His brand launches out of their apartment. The entire business is Stede, one part-time fashion student and Izzy. Izzy does not sew, but by now he’s experienced in a few aspects of business thanks to be very useful to his bosses. He can do the paperwork. 

-Thus supported, and with a gorgeous art piece by Mary for a logo, his work goes into two or three boutiques. Then four. Then ten. Then fifteen. Then a small bougie chain picks them up. And they can’t run it out of the apartment anymore. Izzy is doing Stede’s business more than his own job.  Stede opens an actual office with a workshop space. 

-”I want you to work with me.”  “Fuck off. I’m not your assistant, Bonnet.” “I said with not, for, you asshole. Be my business partner.” “Not qualified for that shit.” “Yes, yes you are. We’ll have to sign a contract and other things, but you do half the work. You should make half the profits.” 

-Izzy hates a lot about the fashion world, but Stede does most of the bits he doesn't like. Izzy stays behind the scenes and tries to keep Stede from accidentally bankrupting them. He’s got a generous heart and very ridiculous ideas. Izzy's heart is a stone and his ruthless practicality grows the business almost as much as Stede's designs.

-They keep living together. Why not? At least it’s someone who knows how you like your coffee or  tea in the morning. And the sex is pretty good.

-They go out to a local gay bar one night. They’re in their late-thirties. Mary is pregnant and most of the other people they know seem to be settling down.  

-There’s a person at the bar with long curly hair and the right kind of smile. 

-”I will not arm wrestle you over this, you utter pig.”  “Saw ‘em first then.”  “That is not how we handle things.”  “Please fucking tell me how we handle anything. I’d love to know if there were fucking rules to this chaos.”  

“Gentleman,” Eddy interrupts. “Both of you can buy me a drink. I’m thirsty as hell.” 

-The thing is that Stede takes Eddy home and Izzy is fine with it. Stede’s dated before. Dated people Izzy thought were attractive before. But this is different. There’s less room suddenly. The apartment that they’ve shared for fifteen years becomes smaller somehow. Izzy is always walking in on something or tripping over someone’s feet. Witnessing people fall in love in front of him in real time with no escape.

-He moves out. He has the money. He still sees Stede every damn day and they still eat lunch together, supposedly to talk business, but they talk about almost everything but. Mary has her baby and Izzy is informed he’s an uncle if he likes it or not. So he’s got a baby that he visits and a best friend and his business partner that he’s no longer fucking. He’s got a good life, okay? 

-He’s not sad. He’s not resentful. Maybe. Sometimes. He’s a little itty bitty bit jealous. Because Eddy is gorgeous and mean and funny. And Stede is more everything with them then he ever was with Izzy. It's like he's become the person he's always wanted to be.

-Izzy has Alma with him one day. Babysitting, because what else is he doing on a weekend? Might as well. She’s strapped to his chest, facing out and obviously being very charming as women keep smiling at him like he’s performing some kind of miracle instead of grocery shopping. There’s a guy by the melons. Young, cute. With another guy. They’re clearly together and having a very adorable time about cantaloupes or some shit. 

-”Hey,” the cute one said as he went by. “You or that baby know how tell when one of these is ripe?”  Izzy picked up a melon and tapped, handing it to him with a nod, “Tap this and listen, you want it to make this kind of sound, that’ll tell you. Baby knows fuck all except out to pull out hair.”  “She’s cute for a hair puller.”  The other man laughed, “you would know, Luc.” “Shut up, sweetie.”  

-Izzy leaves, but it’s his local grocery store and he runs into the couple or just the cute guy on his own a few more times. The cute guy is...flirting. Definitely. And he does it in front of the other guy.   

-”Mysterious,” Eddy laughed at him as he tried to get Stede’s opinion on the problem. “You’re a fucking silver fox, Iz. Guy just wants a piece and clearly his partner doesn’t give a damn.” 

-Izzy is not a silver fox. He’s got less silver than Eddy. But. He’s had a dry period, ok? Fucking Stede reliably had made him a little lazy about finding new people or something.

-He tentatively flirts back next time and the cute guy (“I’m Lucius, by the way, watch the teeth around my neck, I’ve got a day job.”) responds hard. 

-Mary, Stede and Eddy demand details. Demand to meet him, but Izzy holds back for weeks. Months. It’s the first thing he’s had to himself in years and he feels protective of it. But one can’t hold out forever.  Of course they all like him, Lucius fits into their little horror show of a group as if he was born to be there. 

-And the thing is that Lucius teaches Izzy a lot about how relationships can work and that you only get the things that you ask for.

-So he gets Stede alone one night, and he, very painfully and only after a few shots of bravery, just asks. And Stede kisses him the way only Stede knows how to do. It’s a teenage kiss in it’s own way, messy and rich with memory. 

-It’s a long negotiation. A complicated dance, but Izzy’s good at keeping plans and keeping track.  He wears her ring around his neck, Lucius’ cuff around his wrist, Stede’s fashion wherever the man is moved to put it and Eddy’s mark on his neck (“Not the fucking face, I’m a business man, for fuck’s sake.” “Yeah, no one here cares.” “I care”) and he’s about as marked as a man can be.

-and sometimes, when he's finally alone as he still is sometimes, he takes out a sketchpad and he draws a few things. cartoons of a group of kids, falling into each other and the right time.

#leda house and the kraken verse #au of the au #ficlet #if you don't have a breakfast club store bought is fine

[stopscammingartists]

(This went on longer than I thought please forgive me for making you read so much junk)

Here's something that's always been burning in my mind ever since seeing all the bullshit Glip and their collection of goons have done to people: How the fuck do they even get new members nowadays?

I know the answer is "Through the comic itself and the chance to have your own OCs be part of it" but why would anyone want to take part in such a erratic low quality piece of fiction? The story is a completely jumbled mess, most of the characters that get the spotlight are either just Glip self inserting into their new Sona of the week or someone else's OC used as a punching bag, and especially the severe degradation of the comic's art that went from a pretty cool cartoonish almost psychedelic aesthetic into middle school computer lab edgy MS Paint tier trash??? (It's been a while since I've seen any new stuff by Glip; last things I remember were those bdsm vent pieces and the covers for VNs actually looking similar to the stuff they made more of back then)

I can understand the poor people that have been suckered into liking Glip's bullshit ever since PMD-E, but what about Floraverse NOW is bringing people into it? Is it just people from the Discord just inviting their friends in? No way in hell can I believe that it's because they found the comic itself out of nowhere!

After attempting to read that shit a few times all it did was just keep me so fucking confused about everything, and then after seeing the art downgrade I can't even see anyone say "Well yeah the story's kinda trash but at least the art is cool!" It's all just this big burning pyre of shitty scribbles that just wants to scream at the OCs of people that dare insult the Golden Dogfucker Glip and their revolving motley crew of degenerate assets!

Ugh I'm so sorry for this being more of a rambling rant than just an ask, but holy shit man it boggles my mind still that this shitsmear of a comic can get anyone's attention nowadays that isn't related to the cult drama madness.

The Eastar server has people who joined hidden and you need to have a filled out character sheet so I'll only be looking at Owel for this exercise.

In Owel, 4 people have joined and introduced themselves in the past week.

An alt account of Iz, the wannabe rapist

A 19 year old who joined from the latest VN

A 21 year old who just started reading the comic and loves Andre

A writer who was working on a floraverse story

We can disregard the alt of the wannabe rapist. Person 3 joined because they started reading at the start of the comic. Which, makes some form of sense as the comics earlier material doesn't require knowledge on drama to understand and the art then was serviceable. Person 4 has already left or was kicked from the server (lol). Person 2....you got me, no clue why any of the latest VNs would attract someone.

Needless to say, 3 people joining a week isn't much and as person 4 shows, a person joining doesn't necessarily mean they will be staying. I would hazard a guess that more people end up like person 4 or end up just lurking then full on joining. Which is a good thing.

I checked back in April and there was about 450ish people in both servers. This remains true now in August.

I do think that, generally speaking, they aren't really gaining the dedicated sort of people.

#floraverse #forbidden flora #glitchedpuppet #foxflux #glip #forbiddenflora #fox flux #forbiddenflor

[igacasdes]

On the 25th November me and Ingel went to spend the whole day working for a food bank, which was placed in Sadyba Mall. Many of my friends were already there so we joined the team. We started with helping everyone pack the boxes which were full. Each item and type of food had its own category and weight limit so we had to count kilograms or liters to make sure everything was correct. This was a pretty tiring start as there was a lot of chaos around us. Others were talking with people who brought more food, counting the products, still filling out the newcomer forms and getting more flyers. It is probably the position I like the least in the food bank. Luckily I knew exactly what to do as I come to Sadyba for the food bank every year since middle school so this was my third time there. Because of that I wasn’t lost or confused and could explain Ingel what our tasks are. Then a lot of new people came to our stand so me and Ingel decided it could be fun to try out flyer distribution a bit further away. This was super enjoyable and we had a lot of fun advertising the charity stand. The people were very nice and we noticed that they actually didn’t care what we did or said so we spent a lot of time laughing at ourselves :D After a short food break we came back to the stand and went into the store to give more flyers and balloons to people with little kids. At that point I was very happy with my work but also very tired, as we spent in total about 11 hours working. We still made it to the end and the mall was closing so we helped pack all the final boxes, rolling them away in carts, putting them in a truck that later sorts and gives them away to people in need. This is when our day came to an end. I have to say I really enjoyed my work there even more since Ingel came with me and I didn’t have to stand alone at any point. One thing I would change when I come next year, is that I would distribute my work equally between the two days when the food bank takes place instead of spending my whole saturday working without breaks. Except for that I will definitely go again next year, as I think this is a perfect charitable activity that lifts spirits of a lot of people before christmas :)

Till next time!

Iga xx

#food bank

[blog-reflection]

ONE / Thirteen - Fragile - Pls be Gentle

Well back I am.

I’m back in Dover and well, nothing has changed. Except, power is back on. I may or may not got some help from Lucia, who helped me out after I told her what all happened. No sight of Mildret being here, everything’s how I left it a view days ago. 

Brighton is far away from all that Bullshit I had to deal with. And the best of it, the train to Windsor only takes around two hours which is one hour less than from Dover. It's not like I visit Jesse that often, but it's great to know that even the opportunity is given. I already texted them the good news, they were so happy and offered their help if needed. Soo Next thing will be, packing up everything I own. I already saved up a lot of boxes over the last month just in case that I do figure out a way to leave this place. Luckily, it’s a whole apartment. I’ve started with my desk, which I rarely used last month. Folders I’ve already forgotten, more than one million pens, pencils, acrylics, you name it, a tone of different coloured papers, books I didn’t even know I own and…what the actuall fuck!? How in the hell did Jesse snoop one of their tank tops in here? This thing must be in here for at least 10 years prior to today. It even smells like they frequent if I’m honest. It’s a basic one, dam coloured, leaves a tiny bit of transparency, has really small stripes and no sides. I think I’m going to keep it, not because I want to wear it but to have it as a memory of Jesse. Still funny though. I will nail this to my wall just because I want to see their reaction. If I’m honest I don’t even think they miss it at all, they lose track of so much and have a really small recall ability. I turned on the music and continued packing the boxes while doing awful and probably embarrassing dance moves throughout my room getting lost in memories of the old time, our old time. Jesse is quite a loud and extroverted person, after they were out of school. Apart from that, Jesse is living with the best person ever; Charles, Jesse's dad. He is just the nicest human being. He never had anything against anything. The way he had handled the quite emotional outing from Jesse was just done in the dreamiest way possible. Ever since, he uses the right pronouns, makes sure Jesse is doing just well and ensures to give them the time they need to not get stressed out. He cares a lot about Jesse without controlling them nor so ever. Some people say Mr. Owen doesn’t care about Jesse because he gives a fuck about everything. Truth is, he knows how Jesse's mind works and does everything to not get Jesse stressed. A few years ago, he left the two of us alone in the apartment for around a month. This was nuts, a lot of chaos and fun. I actually haven’t seen Jesse since I graduated 9 years ago. But we still haven’t lost connection at all. We chat on a weekly basis, update the other one with the latest tea and gossip, laugh and play a lot of online games, like Minecraft together. 

They are just the most talented people on the planet. Doing their own music, playing the guitar, is a master in arts and craftsmanship and a true gamer. Whenever we started something, they made it better. Even in school. The only subjects where I was superior were either history or forms. They are even able to read but compared to me that’s not really a hard thing to do. They are aware of me being jealous. Jesse can take it. I explained why it is the way it is but even this can’t tear us apart. We stuck together like a bag of wine gums in the middle of the summer left in the car. I started packing some boxes again, since there was no chance for me to sleep now.

I played some music in the background and continued filling some of the boxes. Four hours passed and I got around 30% of my stuff wrapped. I had some breaks whenever I found some old things that revived memories, especially the ones with Jesse. We somehow managed to get a lot of memories in a really small amount of time. Most of them are from my time in Windsor, when things were much worse. We had so much fun during that time. I looked towards a picture underneath the book that I just put away. We were so young. Jesse was so small, they were even shorter than me. Now It’s the complete opposite. Based on the pics we exchange sometimes, Jesse must be around six feet and some inches by now. I myself managed to get stuck on five feet and around eight inches. Their skin had this bright coffee touch, light brown curls with a touch of red all over the face. Jesse is a person that never sweats and is always a walking radiator. I barely see them wearing any clothes as soon as the temps rise over 20°C, especially in summer. They don’t show it off though, it’s just Jesse being Jesse. For me that’s normal. We’ve seen each other naked so it’s literally no big deal rather or not they wear fabric. Sometimes, I’d wish I’d be as confident in my body as they are. Jesse is just all pure, pure skin, pure mind, knowledge, smart, clever, outstanding, you name it. I could never pull off any of their trades. I’m really insecure sometimes, which makes life even harder than it should be. But Jesse knows that. They know I have a tendency for low self-esteem and, honestly, they support me so well in almost all the stuff, especially when I get stuck in BII. 

The picture was taken on the last day of year nine and showed the two of us. I wore one of Jesse’s tank tops and Jesse themself was not dressed at all. I can see that moment right before my eyes. It was mid-summer, a really really hot day, so we went to a local river Jesse knew about. It was a really spontaneous idea; therefore, we weren’t really prepared. We grabbed some stuff at a local store before heading to the lake for some good chills. We were alone, no one really knew about that spot, so Jesse did some proper skinny dipping. I for myself haven’t had proper swim wear, which resulted in me jumping in the water with my clothes. We had a lot of fun, but when I got cold and got out, I realised that I had nothing to change. Jesse said I can have their clothes, a tank top and some really short pants. I took it and dressed to feel warmer. We stayed at the river for a really long time. We talked a lot, laid in the sun, enjoyed the small breaths on our backs, made some kind of sandcastle and so on. Even when the sun went down, it was so hot that the temps did not fall. My clothes haven’t fully dried yet, since I’ve been jumping in and out of the water, so I asked Jesse if they brought anything to change. They just looked me dead in the eye, shrugged, got out of the water, shaked their hair like a dog after a rainy day, grabbed their bag and started walking. I remember how they looked back at me asking whether or not I’d follow. At the end, Jesse walked home naked,only covert by the night, me next to them, dressed in their clothes. This constellation was so horrendous, we laughed the entire way home. I’ve known that Jesse does not care about others opinions, but that got it up another level. When we got home, we took that pic to remind us of how much fun we had that day. That’s for the good old days. I framed the picture with a spare frame I found, wrapped it in paper and carefully put it in one of the boxes. I closed it and rested my elbows on it, holding my head. I looked through my room and thought…what a mess. 

Boxes all over the place, some of them were open, most of them closed and stacked above each other. It lowkey looked like a toddler, trying to build a cardboard castle or something. Truth is, it’s still a mess. Blankets everywhere, pillows, plants that I don’t even remember I had. I have lived in this room for around eighteen years. Never realised how much I got in those years. I changed the music to some Loft vibe music and set my focus on boxing and unboxing again. One shelf left, the one with the most values in my entire room. There are a lot of pics, one from my graduation, one from Jesse attending Royal Holloway for the first time, one with a not so happy family and yes, I did rip my dad out of it, trophies and certificates as well as a collection of pics with Jesse as well as with Lucia. I took the picture I framed before out of the box and took a slightly smaller one to proper store all of these memories. I found a cute pastel pink ribbon to secure the box, took a pink sticky note and wrote “!fragile, pls be gentle!” In a bold font of the note before sticking it to the box. I placed it on top of one of the smaller box towers next to a plant, which is held in a self-made macramé mesh and used to hang from my sealing window next to my fairy lights, which are now tangled up somewhere in those boxes. That’s it, within a week, this room will be empty. Or already occupied by something my mum has in mind. Truth is, she’ll be pretty alone once I’m gone. And if love is genetic, she will stay single for a while. I’ve never had an official boyfriend, at least not one I’d count to that. There is more experience to prove the fact that I like boys. But that’s all, no deeper connection, no hard feelings, most of the time we barely even talk. I looked over to my phone. Four am. Well, now I know why I took these weeks off work, so I can focus on the move. I got out of my jumper and crawled onto my bed. 

Orrr come one for fuck sake, not again. I stretched my leg to reach my phone, which is laying on the floor about four feet away from the bed. I almost fell out of bed when my toes finally hit the screen of my phone. I reached out a little further and with a hard pull I managed to kick it under my bed. I took a disappointing look towards the middle of my room before getting upside down and grabbed it. Now it’s chill time. I plugged in my phone and browsed through a variety of social media until I eventually fell asleep, around 6am, in the morning. 

Fun am I right? I’m not even tired. Well, not anymore.

#unboxing #memories #moving #blog.reflection

[casspurrjoybell-31]

The Consort - Chapter 10 - Part 2

*Warning Adult Content*

Finn

The clattering of dishes stirs me awake.

I squint towards the kitchen and notice Fiona's pink slippers have been replaced with her brown sandals.

They scrape against the tile with purposeful footsteps.

The refrigerator door opens and closes and then the brown shoes scuffle to the sink.

I open my mouth to call out to her but the taste of Brayden's kiss still lingers across my taste buds.

I swallow down the taste, reveling in it for my own, private of moment of bliss.

He probably hated the kiss.

Who am I kidding?

Of course he hated the kiss but he indulged in it long enough for me to have that moment with him.

I shake myself out of my daze and force myself onto my feet.

With a heavy yawn I trudge towards the kitchen.

This isn't the time for me to have dreamy, pathetic thoughts about an immortal.

This is the time for me to be here for Fiona, to be a support to her when she needs it most.

"Good morning," I say.

Fiona's hair is smoothed back into a bun, pinned to her head with precision.

She's wearing her nicest pair of black pants and an off-the-shoulder shirt that shimmers when she walks.

She glances over her shoulder and looks at me with a distant smile.

"Morning, Finn. I'm making oatmeal. Want a bowl?"

I scrunch my nose and slump into the nearest kitchen chair.

"Oatmeal?"

Fiona lets out a laugh that doesn't sound believable.

"It's brain food. I thought it'd be good to get me back into the swing of classes."

"Classes?"

It hasn't even been a full day since Fiona found out about Kelly.

Hell, less than twelve hours ago she was huddled into a ball of heartache and distress over it.

But now, all of a sudden, she's ready for school?

I open my mouth to object but then I remember the way my mom acted years ago after my grandpa died.

For a few hours she couldn't stop crying.

After that, she just acted like nothing happened at all.

I couldn't understand why but after time had passed, she explained it was her way of dealing with the pain.

It was her way to begin the journey of healing.

Fiona sets a bowl of steaming oatmeal in front of me and smiles, a smile that doesn't quite reach her eyes.

"Class is in half an hour, Finn. Eat up."

I stare at the bowl of mush and grimace.

I want to ask Fiona how she's doing.

I want to know if she's upset Kelly left without saying goodbye.

After all, when she fell asleep last night, Kelly was still here in the apartment.

It might not have been the 'human' form of Kelly but at least he was here.

She had to be hurt seeing him gone in the morning without so much as a goodbye or a note.

"They left in the middle of the night," I say.

Fiona stiffens at the sink.

Then she takes a hesitant bite of oatmeal before going back to her dishes with a shrug.

"I figured they would."

"I don't think they knew how to say goodbye."

"Listen, Fiona..."

"Stop."

She spins around.

Her face glows with a radiant shade of pink, an outward expression to showcase the anger and disgust filling her internally.

But I can't ignore her eyes, her now hollow eyes brimming with sadness.

I find myself dropping my gaze to my bowl of mush.

"Kelly is gone," Fiona says with a wavering voice.

"He was gone the night you two left town."

I nod, knowing right now my words aren't wanted.

She sucks in a staggered breath.

"And that... that thing that was here last night? That wasn't Kelly. And it never will be. Do you understand?"

Her question sounds more like a desperate plea, one I'm not sure how to answer.

I didn't know how Fiona would react to all of this but she's talking about Kelly like he wasn't here last night.

He was, though.

He might not be the Kelly she remembers but he's still Kelly.

He has to be.

"That thing that was here last night," Fiona continues, a dark edge layering her tone.

"...was vile. Those monsters took my boyfriend from me, Finn. So now I have to fight even harder, in Kelly's honor. He would have wanted me to."

"Are you sure about that?"

Fiona's eyes turn to slits.

"Open your eyes, Finn. This revolution is happening and it's growing by the day. By the minute. Even if you were blind to it, Kelly wanted this revolution for all man-kind. After seeing what they did to him, now I can honestly say I do too. And I will never stop fighting until we get it."

While she talks, my heart sinks lower and lower.

I knew Fiona and Kelly had been a part of this anti-human revolution but with everything that happened, I assumed it would pull her away from the revolution.

Not push her towards it even more.

I stir around my oatmeal, watching as the gooey substance thickens into an inedible blob.

Is what she's saying true?

Would the old Kelly have so little understanding for the vampire population that he'd want Fiona to turn her back on him?

If that's the case, what would he think of me for what I did last night with Brayden?

Would he turn his back on me too?

[littlespoonevan]

Congrats on 7k followers, holy shit. I trust you with any of the letter prompts, but if I had to pick, T. I'm super curious what you'll come up with. =)

aklsdjh alright, friend, you prompted "obscure au" and my mind went to a million different places, none of which i really vibed with. and then, last night, right as i was on the edge of sleep, my mind concocted an idea from fandom days of old:

professional cuddler evan buckley/touch-starved ball of repression eddie diaz

so this is...certainly a thing aksjdhf but also i'm lowkey obsessed with this concept now and i don't wanna let it go so if you could all please let me know if you would read a 5k-10k continuation of this fic, that would be great lmao

-

Eddie Diaz is a lot of things.

He’s war veteran, he’s a firefighter, he’s an (ex)husband, he’s a father.

What he is not, is good at asking for help.

Moving to LA had been an initially impulsive but still carefully constructed plan to snatch back his agency and his role as a father after feeling smothered for so long under his parents’ roof. In truth, he wouldn’t have had any problem becoming a firefighter in Texas but there was a special kind of vindication – a childlike ‘haha you can’t catch me!’ – that came with telling his parents he was moving to California.

And as proud as he is of himself for finally standing up for something he wants, moving to LA has been hard.

Not least of all because he’s got about a vault’s worth of unresolved trauma from his time in the army.

The combination of recently moving house, finally truly living as a single parent – who hasn’t managed to set up proper childcare yet – and beginning a new job as a firefighter has meant the walls he’s so steadfastly built up around himself to hold himself together since he first came home are starting to crumble.

And of course, because the universe absolutely hates Eddie, all of this stress and anxiety has decided to take the form of insomnia.

Possibly the worst symptom a single father who works 24 hour shifts could experience.

Which is why he’s one hundred percent going to blame his sleep-deprived brain for what he chooses to do.

It’s past 3am and Eddie is scrolling mindlessly on his phone when he first stumbles across the ad.

Some people, when they go online shopping at night, buy things they don’t need. Like a Fitbit or a novelty t-shirt.

Eddie…

Eddie buys a professional cuddler.

It’s the stupidest fucking thing he’s ever done but he’s so tired and he’d give anything to just get one full night’s sleep and the ad boasts about how prolonged and consistent hugs can help reduce stress and improve your heart health and before he knows it he’s filling out an application form.

He forgets about it by the time he does manage to finally drop off to sleep for a few hours before his alarm goes off but he’s helpfully reminded the next morning when he receives an email from an Evan Buckley who introduces himself as his prospective cuddle…associate? The email comes with a more detailed explanation of how the process works as well as a list of available time slots Eddie can choose from. Lastly, there’s an attached consent form detailing what is probably the opposite of whatever the hell one puts in a BDSM contract.

And the thing is, it’s stupid.

It was an impulsive decision his exhausted brain found in the middle of the night and he should absolutely just delete the email and pretend it never happened.

He doesn’t delete the email.

-

It’s a Tuesday morning just after he’s come off a 24-hour shift, Christopher is in school, the house is empty and Eddie feels like he’s about to crawl right out of his own skin when the doorbell rings.

Steeling himself, he takes a breath and opens the door to- well.

A stupidly gorgeous man.

The man – Evan Buckley, professional cuddler, he presumes – offers him a smile that rivals the brightness of the sun shining behind him and sticking out a hand.

“Hey,” he greets warmly. “Eddie, right? I’m Buck.”

Eddie stares, dumbfounded, for a beat before his brain catches up with itself and he hastens to shake his hand. “Yeah, sorry. Hi, I’m Eddie. You uh- you can come in.” He lets go of Buck’s hand – it’s warm, just like his smile – and moves back, opening the door wider to let him through.

Buck steps inside, looking around curiously, and Eddie feels self-conscious about the still-bare walls. His priority had been decorating Christopher’s room first and making sure he had everything he needed. Getting a couch and a dining table had been next on the list. The rest of the décor can wait until Eddie’s next pay check. Or next ten pay checks.

When he realises Buck isn’t making a move to go anywhere he scratches the back of his neck, looking helplessly between his bedroom door and the living room. “I uh, I know I signed the form and everything but I’m not really sure how this is supposed to work-?”

Buck’s expression brightens again. “Oh! Well, it really depends on the person. Some people prefer being in bed, particularly if they’re trying to fall asleep. But that feels too personal for some people so they tend to go for a couch or an armchair or something. It’s all about what you’re comfortable with.”

Eddie nods. He has no idea what he’s comfortable with. He still hasn’t quite reconciled that he’s agreed to pay this man to cuddle him, for fuck’s sake.

Buck seems to realise his indecision and his smile is kind in a way that makes Eddie want to duck his head in embarrassment. “You mentioned in your application form that you’re having trouble sleeping. Is it- is that what you’d like help with?”

“I guess,” he replies but he doesn’t sound sure even to his own ears. “I- I just came off a 24 hour shift so I was hoping to catch some sleep before I pick my son up from school later.”

Buck seems to take all of that information in his stride, nodding easily. “Cool. Well, in that case we could go to your bedroom if you’re comfortable? I can’t guarantee you’ll fall asleep first try but even just having your body at rest for a while can help you feel more recharged.”

And, because Eddie is clearly losing it, he nods and leads this veritable stranger to his room.

-

The actual getting-on-the-bed part is surprisingly okay.

Buck is dressed for the occasion, in soft sweatpants and an even softer looking pale blue hoodie, and he lets Eddie take the lead in selecting his side of the bed. However once they’re side by side Eddie feels himself clam up.

“What do you- what happens now?”

Buck eyes him speculatively for a moment and then simply asks, “Big spoon or little spoon?”

Eddie blinks. “What?”

“Big spoon or little spoon?” he repeats, the faintest glimmer of amusement in his eyes. “Once you figure out which you prefer the rest is pretty straightforward.”

Eddie feels himself flush, looking away as he thinks it over. It takes a good thirty seconds to remind himself that he’s paying for this and Buck probably already thinks he’s pathetic for having to hire someone to cuddle him instead of finding someone to be with the normal way, so he only feels a little embarrassed when he finally admits, “Little spoon.”

Buck grins and reaches for him and it’s possibly the most bizarre situation Eddie’s ever been in but he just- lets Buck rearrange them until they’re both lying on their sides. Buck presses right up behind him, pulling the covers up around them and wrapping a secure arm around Eddie’s waist.

Eddie holds himself perfectly still throughout it all, hesitantly settling his arm over Buck’s when he finally stops moving.

He counts five breaths before he has to break the silence, mouth dry. “What happens now?”

Buck hums and Eddie can feel the vibration of it where Buck’s chest touches his back. “Some people like to talk; others just like to lie in silence.”

Eddie contemplates it. He’s never been the most talkative person but he also can’t quite imagine lying here in silence for the next forty-five minutes of their session.

“So. Is this like, your full-time gig?” he asks before immediately cringing. That’s probably against some rule to ask.

Buck just snorts quietly. “Part-time,” he says. “I’m actually putting myself through the Fire Academy right now. I need some extra cash to help with rent until I certify.”

Eddie feels the ridiculous urge to laugh but it thankfully morphs into a yawn at the last minute. “I’m a firefighter,” he says and Buck does laugh.

“No fucking way?”

“Mm,” he hums. “Certified about a month ago. That’s why I moved here; new job.”

“People who suffer from insomnia can find the symptoms worsen under periods of stress or change,” Buck says, gently probing, and Eddie gets the vague feeling like he just sat down with a therapist.

“Yeah it’s-“ he starts, closing his eyes and releasing a tired sigh. “I really love it but it’s been a lot, with the move and everything.”

Buck nods, chin bumping Eddie’s shoulder, as his hand rubs small circles almost absent-mindedly against Eddie’s stomach. It’s around that point that Eddie realises his body has almost completely relaxed against Buck’s, limbs heavy in a way they haven’t felt in a while.

“How do you even become a…cuddler?”

Buck barks out a laugh, the action making him nuzzle into the nape of Eddie’s neck for a half a second. It’s the most intimacy Eddie’s experienced in literal years and he thinks for a second he might black out.

“It’s- I like research binges and a while back I got really interested in the benefits of physical touch therapy. I’d fallen down a love language rabbit hole,” he adds as an aside. “And the short version is I took a course and joined up with the company. I’ve been doing it for about six months now.”

Eddie makes a quiet noise of acknowledgement, staring at the wall opposite him until his vision starts to blur. “It must be a little strange for you though, right? I mean I know you have to fill out the whole consent form and everything but there’s gotta be some weird clients?”

“Not really,” Buck says, voice hushed. “Mostly it’s just been people who feel lonely. Or- or who have lost someone recently and aren’t used to being on their own. Or people who are struggling to sleep, like you.”

Eddie gets the vague urge to point out he’s so lonely he fears he might drown from it but he swallows it back.

Instead he lets the silence settle around them, surprised to find he feels so much more comfortable than he had at the beginning. Buck follows his lead, remaining a steady warmth at his back and continuing to run soothing circles over Eddie’s stomach.

And it’s been a long time since Eddie’s been held by anyone. Even when he came home from Afghanistan he and Shannon hadn’t been in a good enough place to lie like this all that often. But it’s nice, much nicer than he expects. He feels oddly safe in Buck’s arms.

He almost can’t believe it when he feels his eyes start to droop, lulled by the steady rhythm of Buck’s breathing. He’s on the verge of sleep, teetering on the edge of unconsciousness, when Buck’s phone starts vibrating.

Buck silences it almost immediately but it means he has to let go of Eddie to do it and Eddie feels an awful kind of bereft at the loss of his touch.

“Sorry,” Buck whispers. “That was the alarm for the end of our session.”

“Oh,” Eddie mumbles trying to rouse himself, shaking his head to clear the brain fog.

“Hey, no,” Buck says, hand going back to Eddie’s shoulder. “You’re almost asleep. Don’t ruin all our progress now.”

There’s something soft and teasing in his voice and when Eddie cranes his neck to look at him he finds a smile to match his tone. “Stay here. I can let myself out. It was really great to meet you, Eddie. I hope you get some sleep.”

“Thanks,” he replies and it doesn’t feel like enough but he’s too overwhelmed to say anything else.

Buck shoots him one more smile and climbs off the bed. Eddie listens as he puts back on his shoes, as he slips out into the hallway, and then as the front door closes behind him.

And miraculously, before he can think about it too much, sleep pulls him under.

-

When Eddie wakes up there’s an automated email on his phone.

Thank you for availing of our services! We hope your session was a fulfilling and comforting experience. We’d love to hear from you so we can continue to better or services. Fill out the feedback form to leave a review here. Or, if you’d like to book another session, please follow the link below.

Eddie thinks of the lightness in his chest, of the way he almost feels rested for the first time in a month, and clicks ‘Book another session’.

-

#buddie #911 fic #asks #littlerosetrove #my fics #follower celebration #i'm not joking i want to keep writing this #yes my last long buddie fic was about them cuddling shut up this would be different #how you ask? #well for one it's from eddie's pov instead lol

[diaphragmjellyfish]

Research

Finally wrote something again! Sorry it took so long. 

How exactly do you get a dog to lose your scent? Because avoiding your werewolf boyfriend Embry was proving a lot harder than you had anticipated. Last weekend was… eventful. You guys had finally done it. Gone all the way. After 6 months of dating and an imprint bond, you both finally decided you were ready to take that next step. And you’ve only had one thought since that night. 

That shit hurted. 

It was borderline unbearable. The pain was searing. You lied there until Embry was done, faking moans and even faking the Big O, and you were less than eager to do it again. Were you broken? He seemed to enjoy it, so obviously you were to blame. He’d been super clingy and lovey since that night, even more so than usual, and you didn’t have the heart to be around him knowing you had faked it like that. What if he found out? He’d be crushed. What if he wanted to do it again? You couldn’t take that pain another night. What if he faked it too and was going to break up with you the next time he saw you? Yeah, no. Avoidance was the way to go. 

He wanted to take you out to see a movie. You mysteriously came down with a case of allergies in the middle of winter. 

He wanted to pick you up after school and give you a ride home. You had the sudden urge to join a club that was meeting after school that day. 

He called, your phone was on silent. 

He texted, you suddenly became illiterate. 

But he kept trying. God, why was he making this so difficult?! Thoughts like this swirled through your head as you walked the long way home from school. He knew your usual route, so obviously that was out of the question. You took a path through the woods that would eventually spit you out right by the beach where you could sit and think. The forest had always felt like a second home to you. Peaceful, comfortable, private. You walked for some time before hearing twigs snapping in the distance. Probably a rabbit or something. Louder snapping. Bigger sticks. Definitely not a rabbit. You halted, waiting for the creature to pass, when a large gray wolf stalked out of the trees. 

Damn. 

He was wearing the softest, cutest, most “kicked puppy” look on his face that you had ever seen. Head bowed, he walked up to you slowly, whining. So he had noticed your avoidance. You held your hand out to him, petting the thick fur between his ears. He sniffed your hand, giving it a soft lick. 

“Hi,” you whispered. He whined louder at this. “Embry…” you started, before he crouched down, a silent cue for you to get on his back. He waited. 

Guess this was inevitable. And at least him showing up in wolf form gave you some time to think about how exactly you would explain what had happened. With another soft sigh, you climbed up on his back, holding the fur tightly as he trotted off into the trees. After about 5 minutes, you realized that he was taking you to Sam and Emily’s house. You weren’t in the mood to be around the rest of the pack right now. 

“Embry, I’m kind of busy today. I don’t really have time to hang out with the pack.” 

He ignored you, trotting along as if your statement was the buzz of a mosquito in his ear. When you reached the house, however, you quickly realized that no one else was there. They must all be out. It was a Friday afternoon, after all. 

When you reached the lawn, Embry stopped and crouched once more so you could dismount. When you did, he ran off behind the house, walking back out several minutes later as the inky-haired boy you had grown to love. His face was full of sadness, yours full of anxiety. 

“Let’s go for a walk,” he said. 

You silently followed him down the path that led to the cliffs, waiting for him to say something else. He never did, only kept walking. You struggled to keep up, but were too stubborn in your silence to ask him to slow down. You both finally reached the rocky cliffs jutting out over the frigid ocean. He stopped, staring out at the horizon. You paused next to him, waiting. After another several minutes of silence, you grew impatient. 

“It’s supposed to snow Monday,” you said. 

You waited. Silence. 

“The news said they might even cancel school.” 

A pause. Nothing. 

“I don’t know about you, but I could definitely use a three day weeken-”

“Is there something you want to tell me?” he cut you off, seeming agitated. For as long as you’d known Embry, he was never in a bad mood. Never anything but happy. Maybe sad on a few occasions, but never angry. Never frustrated. And it was making you nervous. 

And now it was your turn to be silent. Yes! You wanted to say. You hurt me! But you couldn’t. Wouldn’t. He didn’t do it on purpose, so why would you make him feel guilty about something that was your problem and your problem alone? 

“Because, if I’m counting correctly, it’s been 5 days since I’ve so much as heard from you. Barely a text back. Not a call, not a ‘hey! I’m super busy this week.’ Why are you avoiding me? I thought… after last weekend, we should be more in love than ever right?! Did it not mean anything to you?” 

You remained quiet, tears pooling in your eyes. You gave no sign that you were going to respond, so he kept going. 

“Just tell me where your fucking head is at, Y/N. You can’t keep brushing me off like this. Did I do something wrong? Do you regret what we did? Am I, like… not ripped enough for you or something?” 

“Embry, no,” you pleaded. You could see the insecurity behind his eyes. You had to tell him what was going on, but you knew it would crush him. “It’s not that at all.” 

He waited. “Then what?” 

You closed your eyes, a tear slipping down your face. You wiped it away quickly before taking a deep breath. “I have been avoiding you.” You looked up at his face at this, finding tears building up in his own eyes. “I love you, Embry. But last weekend, just… I can’t do that again.” 

He clenched his jaw, looking anywhere but your face and nodded. He was hurt. You definitely could have worded that better. 

“Let me explain,” you pleaded. He wouldn’t look at you still, but didn’t walk away, so you kept going. “I think I might be broken or something, because that… It didn’t feel right.” 

At this, he looked back at your face, switching from hurt to concerned almost immediately. 

“Why would you think you’re broken?” 

Another pause. “I know you would never hurt me on purpose…”

“You were in pain?” he panicked, fresh tears pricking in his eyes. 

“It’s not your fault,” you hurried. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

“Why didn’t you tell me that? Why would you let me keep going?!” 

“I’m sorry!” you cried, causing him to walk up and embrace you. You sobbed into his chest as he pet your hair, all signs of anger gone. “You were having a good time, and I didn’t wanna ruin it, but it hurt so bad…” 

“Shhhhh,” he cooed as he rocked you from side to side, letting you calm down. “It’s okay.” 

After several minutes, you finally stopped crying. He didn’t falter in his embrace, only left light kisses on your forehead and cheek. 

“Y/N, I am so sorry,” he whispered into your hair. 

“It’s not your fault,” you replied. 

“Yes, it is. I’m supposed to take care of you. It was my job to make you feel good, and you were hurting that bad and I didn’t even notice.” You sniffled, just enjoying being in his arms. A few more minutes passed as you both calmed down. 

“To be fair, I did take a drama class last semester. I’d say I put on a pretty convincing performance,” you added weakly, an attempt to lighten the mood. 

He huffed a laugh, if for no other reason than to make you feel better. “Had me fooled,” he added. 

You smiled, looking up at him. “I’m sorry for avoiding you.” 

“It’s okay. I just wish you would have told me as soon as it started to hurt that you wanted to stop.” 

“I know. I should have, I just got all in my head about it.” 

“And I’m sorry for hurting you. I’ll never forgive myself, and I understand if you don’t want to be with me anymore,” he answered, nervously awaiting your response. 

“I forgive you. And of course I still want to be with you, Embry. I love you. We just need to work on our communication skills a little bit,” you laughed. 

“We do. And I’ll start. I would really love another chance to make you feel good. If you promise to be honest about how you’re feeling, I know I can do a way better job. But I understand completely if you wanna wait a while… or if you never wanna do it again. You’re in charge here.” 

His words had your heart melting. He really did care about you, and you knew that if you had told him in the moment that you were in pain, he would have done anything to get you feeling good. You were always his first priority. 

“I’d be willing to try again, but what we did last time didn’t work. I think we need to think of some new techniques or something,” you mumbled shyly. 

“Tell you what. I’ll do some research, get some stuff, and you can come over tonight… if you want to. And we can maybe try again? And if you get there and aren’t feeling up to it, we can just watch a movie and cuddle. No pressure… I just miss you.” 

You thought for a second. Worst case scenario, you’d cuddle on the couch and eat junk food. You trusted Embry completely, and if you said stop, you knew he would. 

“Okay,” you replied. 

__________________________________

After a long shower, some fresh makeup, and a cute-yet-comfortable outfit, you were ready to go over to Embry’s. Sure, the nerves were kicking in, but you trusted him when he said he would do some research. When you pulled up, he was already standing in the doorway smiling. You ran out and gave him a giant bear hug (or wolf hug), and he picked you up and carried you into his room, kicking the door closed with his foot. 

“I missed you,” he said, face buried in your hair. 

“You saw me like 3 hours ago,” you giggled in response. 

“Yeah, but I haven’t seen you all week! Gotta get my Y/N fill or I might die!” 

You laughed loudly, hands threading up into his hair as he sat down on the bed with you seated in his lap. 

“Yeah, yeah, just try not to crowd me,” you cheekily replied. 

He raised an eyebrow before tackling you back onto the bed, tickling you like a maniac and placing playful kisses all over your face and neck. 

“Like this?! Don’t crowd you like this?” 

“Embry stop!” you laughed, trying to suck in a breath between his manic tickles. When he finally stopped, he was lying between your legs, one hand grasping both your wrists above your head, the other propped beside you so as to not crush you. He stared lovingly at your face before leaning down and placing a soft kiss on your lips. His grip on your arms loosened, as if to say You can stop me anytime, but you didn’t. You kissed him back, arms staying in place to tell him that you were okay. 

The kisses grew slightly more heated, but Embry kept them gentle. And every time you thought he was about to take things to the next step, he’d just kiss you some more. You were growing slightly impatient, breath labored and blood pumping fast. Your stomach became slightly warm, and every time you leaned up, he’d pull away. 

“You’re being mean,” you whimpered. 

He just looked at you and smirked before leaning down and capturing your lips once more. You could feel your blood heat in every part of your body. From your head to your toes, you felt warm and fuzzy, yet desperate for more,,, more touch, more pressure, more Embry. Growing frustrated, you hooked your legs around his waist and tried your best to pull him closer, unintentionally grinding your hips into his. When he brushed up against your core, you let out an involuntary sigh. It actually felt nice. He smiled into the kiss, pulling his lips away from yours and dragging them down to your jaw, and then your neck, suckling and sucking and leaving light red marks that made your head spin. The hand that was holding your wrists came down behind your back and up into your hair, firmly pulling your head back to give him better access to your neck. 

This movement made your entire back arch up into his body. His grip in your hair tightened slightly, lips sucking your skin up into his mouth as he nibbled, before soothing with his tongue. Your toes curled, legs pulling him impossibly closer. When he felt this, he ground his hips down into yours. The combination of his hands, lips, and weight on top of you made you let out a gasp. Your hands held onto his shoulders for dear life, pulling his shirt up in an attempt to take it off. He got the hint and sat up to remove it, being away from your body for far too long for your taste. He didn’t lower fully back down, however, instead sliding his warm hands under your shirt and onto your stomach. You sat up, taking your sweatshirt off and throwing it violently across the room. His eyes widened as they looked down at your bare chest in an almost feral fashion. He gripped your thighs, tugging you down the bed with ease, and resuming his position on top of you, hands roaming all over your torso. He cupped your breasts gently, rolling your nipples softly between his fingers. You shut your eyes and threw your head back, enjoying the sensations. His kisses trailed from your neck and down to your chest, softly. Lovingly. When he reached your nipples, his tongue poked out and licked around each of them, before taking them into his mouth and sucking. His hands continued to caress your back, and he took his sweet time switching from one breast to the other, and back again, until he felt your skin grow almost as hot as his. You were writhing underneath him, panting as your mind tried to comprehend the sensations. And his mouth, God it was so warm. You felt him kiss the undersides of your breasts, and then your stomach, and then lower… 

When he reached the waistband of your leggings, he brought his hands up as if to pull them off of you. He stopped, looking up at you for permission. You gave a lazy nod Yes, and lifted your hips to help him. He pulled your underwear off as well, spreading your legs and almost salivating at the sight of your soaking pussy. Not wanting to waste another second, he once again began placing kisses on your lower stomach, and then down to your hip bones, scraping his teeth lightly against the skin, which had you shuddering. He trailed lower, to where your thighs met your core, and began to suck lightly and the soft skin there. Your clit was throbbing by now, desperate for any sort of attention. You thrust your hips up, desperate for his mouth on the place you needed him, but he only pulled your legs over his shoulders and brought his arms across your stomach to hold you in place. Your hands went to his hair in an effort to control any aspect of this situation, but the boy was strong. He teased and teased and teased, until you thought you might very well crawl out of your own skin if he didn’t properly touch you soon. Embry brought his face right up to your center and licked into your entrance, making your toes curl once more. His hands gripped your hips as he brought you as far onto his tongue as he could, nose not quite brushing where you still needed him. 

“Embry…” you whimpered, about to tell him what you needed. 

“I know, baby. I got you,” he spoke, as he finally brought his warm tongue to lick a firm stripe up to your clit, swirling it around and sucking the swollen nub into his mouth. 

You let out a moan. A real one. Your first real one. And it only encouraged Embry, as he began to suck and lick with a steady rhythm that caused your legs to shake. You felt your stomach start to coil after several minutes of this, hands fisting Embry’s hair even tighter. It felt amazing, but that coil wouldn’t snap. He started to notice you coming down slightly, orgasm fading away, when he brought his index finger into your mouth. You sucked on instinct, before he pulled it out and brought it down to your entrance. He swirled the digit around a few times and began to push in slowly. One knuckle. Then two. And then he was fully in you. Sucking your clit into his mouth yet again, he rubbed his finger up into your front wall, massaging the ridges there. 

“Oh… Embry, oh my God,” you moaned. He used more pressure, and then brought his finger out and added another, slowly pushing them in together and resuming the ‘come-hither’ motion. You felt your muscles shake, losing all control, and the coil in your stomach tightened rapidly once again, only this time, it broke. Your back arched, eyes shut tight, mouth open in a silent scream as you came hard. Waves of pleasure drove through you, hands holding his head firmly onto your center. When you came down and opened your eyes, you looked down at his face to see an excited grin. 

“If you tell me that was fake, I think I’ll cry,” he chirped. 

You calmed your hard breathing enough to mutter a “That was real.” 

“Do you wanna keep going?” he asked. 

You nodded, taking note of the obvious tent in his shorts. You reached a hand down to grasp him, when he grabbed your wrist and said “Nuh-uh, I’m still making it up to you.” 

He stood up off the bed and went over to a plastic shopping bag on his desk. He opened it and pulled out a condom, some lube, and a small pink toy. Your eyes widened, and he cockily stated, “told you I’d do some research. Come here Sweetheart.” He held a hand out to help you up, and moved you so that you were on your hands and knees, bum facing him as he stood at the edge of the bed. He tore the condom packet open with his teeth and rolled it on, and then opened the bottle of lube and slathered it all over himself. He then brought what was left on his hand up to your sensitive core, distributing the substance gently. Throwing the bottle onto the floor, he lined himself up with your entrance. 

“You sure you wanna keep going?” he asked. You nodded in response. “I need you to say it, babe.” 

“Yes, I want to keep going, Em,” you almost cried. 

“Okay, but I need you to tell me if it hurts even a little. Promise?” 

“Promise.” 

He grasped your hip with one hand, guiding himself in with the other. Slowly, carefully, he became fully seated inside you, giving you a moment to adjust. You felt no pain, just a delicious stretch inside your walls. When Embry saw that you were relaxed, he pulled himself out a couple of inches and softly thrusted back in, looking for any signs of discomfort. He found none, and continued. He dragged himself in and out of you at a torturous pace that made your breathing pick up yet again. You needed more. You began rocking yourself back onto him, begging for a faster pace, and he complied. He pulled out several inches more this time, shoving back in at a quicker pace that had your toes curling and your moans going up in pitch. At this, he stopped holding back. Embry began pounding into you, hands gripping your hips tight enough to leave the good kind of bruise. You were moaning loudly, brain turning to mush. This is what sex was supposed to be like. What you’d always imagined it would be like. Passionate, loving, amazing. 

Embry found himself reaching the edge, but would not allow himself to finish before you. He reached down onto the bed for the small pink toy that you had forgotten about. He flicked it on, brought his other hand down and around your throat to pull you up against him, and held the small vibrator right onto your clit. The pounding pressure of his dick paired with the fervent vibrations had you seeing stars. You came. Hard. You didn’t know how long the orgasm had lasted. When you came to, you were lying on your back on the bed, breathing still labored, as Embry cleaned your thighs off with a damp towel. He noticed you looking up at him. 

“Hey, Sweetheart,” he cooed.

“Hey,” you responded weakly. 

“How ya doing?” 

“Really good,” you laughed. 

“Yeah?” he beamed at you as you nodded in response. “Good. I’m gonna get you some water and then we can cuddle, okay?” You only smiled in contentment as he walked off into the hallway, returning shortly with a cup of cold water. “Sit up for me?” 

“Can’t,” you answered, eliciting a laugh from him. 

“C’mon, I’ll help you,” he spoke as he gently held the back of your head, supporting you as you leaned up to drink from the cup he was holding up to your mouth. After you took a few sips, he seemed satisfied and placed the cup on the floor, lying down next to you and pulling you close. “If you start ignoring me after that, I might have to kill you,” he teased. 

“Don’t worry. I won’t ever ignore you again.” You sighed in contentment, listening to Embry’s soothing heartbeat, before you began to wonder. “By the way, what the heck kind of research did you do?” 

He huffed a laugh before responding, “Some guy on the internet called Owen Grey.” 

#twilight #wolf pack #embry call #embry call x reader #embry call smut #twilight smut #sam uley #jacob black #paul lahote #quil ateara #seth clearwater #jared cameron #leah clearwater #edward cullen #embry call x reader smut #paul lahote x reader #paul lahote smut

[cloudteawrites]

chapter: seven ( 12.3k ) rating: mature (death, past abuse, eventual smut) genre: mystery | romance | hurt/comfort tags: bts x reader | ot7 x reader | hybrid | poly summary: when an estranged uncle leaves you his massive fortune you wonder if the universe is playing a joke on you. when that fortune comes with seven hybrids, you know for sure that it is. << first < previous | next > last >>

The sound of your phone ringing rips you from sleep. You sit bolt upright, confusion and panic dousing you like twin buckets of ice water. You’d been having a nightmare about something, but you can’t remember what. The tattered ends of it are already slipping away, just out of reach. You don’t chase after them.

You fumble for your phone in the dark, fingers groping uselessly at your blankets until they close around it. The bright white light from your screen blinds you as you flip it over and you blink blearily, rubbing at your eyes with one hand and trying to answer with the other.

“Hello?” you rasp, mashing the speaker button. “Who is this?”

“Apologies for disturbing your sleep, ma’am.” A woman’s voice crackles over the other end of the line. You can hear exhaustion dripping off every word. “This is Officer Kwon from the Namhyeon-dong precinct of the Seoul Metropolitan Police Force.”

You squint into the dark expanse of your bedroom, a little frown on your face as you struggle to process what she’s saying. “....okay?”

“I’m calling because we’ve got two of your hybrids in custody.”

You blink slowly. “Hmmmm, I don’t think so...” you mumble through a yawn. “They’re all in bed.”

“We ran their numbers through the registry and you were pinged as the owner of both.” You hear papers shuffling and her voice get distant as she transfers the receiver to her shoulder to free up a hand. “We’ve got a rabbit calling himself Jeongguk and a Seokjin who the rabbit says is a deer-” She sighs. “Listen, I’m at the end of my rope here. They won’t tell me where they came from and the phone number of the business they were registered to before you is out of service. They’re hurt pretty bad, worse than what we can take care of here at the station. We can’t get them any sort of medical care without their guardian’s permission, so-”

Your eyes glaze over as you groggily connect the dots.

A deer and a rabbit.

Not canine, not feline.

Other.

Other.

You shove the covers down your legs and kick them over the side of the bed. “I’m on the way,” you tell her, already adding up the distance between your building and Namhyeon-dong. It’d take an hour to get all the bus transfers you needed- your eyes narrow as you squint at the time on your phone. 3:27 AM. You’d have to get a cab. Your stomach twists at the thought of the fare, but you shove the feeling down. This was no time to be thrifty. “Do whatever you need to.”

The officer exhales in relief. You can practically hear the tension leave her shoulders. “There’s a little hybrid clinic in the neighborhood. I’ll see if I can get the vet up and convince them to go.”

“Thank you,” you breathe. She gives you the address and you type it into your notes app, reading it back to her twice to make sure you got it right. She hangs up with a promise to see you soon and your phone locks, leaving you alone in the blue-black gloom of an early morning.

This wasn’t great. This wasn’t great any way you sliced it. You’d thought you’d have an extra two weeks to get the canines settled and all five hybrids to at least not want to kill each other. That’d been the plan, at least, when you’d sequestered yourself in your bedroom without telling Jimin and Taehyung goodnight or doing any introductions. Now the others were coming and you were on borrowed time. You drag your hands down over your face. “What are we gonna do?” Nothing but silence answers you.

When you were a kid and you’d had anything big before you- a massive school project you’d waited til the last moment to start, having to walk yourself to the market because your mom was too sick to go, a hard conversation with a friend- your mom had always told you to break it down into smaller pieces. Make the big thing small; do what you can for now. So, that’s what you do.

You shove your phone into the pocket of your sweatpants, tug your backpack out from under your bed and grab a pair of socks. You slide them on as quickly as you can and head for the door. You tug it open and try to rush through, already on the way to your next small thing- but you stumble over a shoulder and go down.

You let out a yelp of surprise that quickly morphs into one of pain as your forehead knocks against the other person’s. Your hands slam down on either side of their head and their own fly up to your waist to steady you. You blink down at them, willing your eyes to adjust to the dark.

Hoseok is beneath you. He’s squinting up at you, his hair in disarray and his cheeks puffy with sleep. “Ow,” he croaks.

You wince. “I’m sorry,” you whisper, rubbing the spot on his forehead your own knocked against on autopilot. He seems to wake up a little at that, eyebrows inching up his forehead. You snatch your hand back. “Ah, sorry. I was worried I hurt you-”

“I’m okay,” he rasps, his voice still thick with sleep. “You didn’t hurt me.”

“Okay.” You disentangle yourself from him and rise back to your feet. He struggles to get up too, mirroring you. The blankets pooled around his hips fall to his feet. You frown at the picture he makes, his shoulders slumped from exhaustion and indents on his cheek from the hardwood. “Did you...did you sleep out here?”

His ears fall and he lowers his head a bit between his shoulders. “Yeah,” he admits, rubbing the back of his neck. “I did…”

You wrote off a lot of the behavior the boys exhibited that you didn’t understand as just a part of them being hybrids. When Taehyung affectionately headbutted you, or Jimin always hopped up on counters or Yoongi lapped from glasses instead of sipping, you just accepted it and stashed it away to google later- but this was a little more concerning. Did he not feel safe in his room? You’d tried to put him and Namjoon as far away from the felines as you could, but you also knew the cats weren’t thrilled about sharing their space. You hoped they hadn’t made him feel too unwelcome after you’d collapsed into bed.

“Is everything okay?” His ears twitch as the smell of your worry fills his nose. He leans forward and for a moment you think he’s gonna close the distance between you- but he pulls back.

“No,” he answers. You feel your heart sink. “I just...your room is closest to the front door.” You blink at him slowly, not following. You don’t know how his sight is in the dark, but he must see the confusion furrowing your brow,because he continues. “Your room is the only one on the first floor and it’s close to the living room and front door. We all sleep upstairs. If someone broke in, they’d get you first.” He tosses a finger down at the blankets. “I was sleeping here so that wouldn’t happen.”

“Nobody’s gonna get me, Hoseok,” You soothe, trying to assuage his fears. “I’m nobody-”

“You don’t know that,” he argues back. “And you’re not ‘nobody’ to me. I waited my whole life for you. I’ve gotta keep you safe.”

You don’t know what to make of that. You’d known Hoseok had been trained specifically to protect the person he’d eventually be sent to, but you hadn’t expected him to be so adamant about it. After all Namjoon grew up in the same place- No. Your expression sours as the thought stops you. No he didn’t. The wolfdog hybrid had been locked away for most of his life and interaction with others had come only in the form of meal delivery. He wouldn’t have had the director’s lessons drilled into his head everyday in the same way Hope had.

Still, no one has expressed this level of care for you since your mom died. You’re not entirely sure you deserve it.

“I was gonna wake up before you did and go back to my room,” he mumbles, kicking gently at the blanket and not meeting your eyes. “I promise, I was. I didn’t expect you to be up this early.” He fiddles with the hem of his shirt, his ears drooping more and more the longer you look at him. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable…”

“You didn’t make me uncomfortable, Hoseok,” You tell him and his ears perk up a little. It was true, he hadn’t. His actions were sweet, if a bit misguided but you were more worried about him than anything. “I don’t know what the director told you or what you’ve heard, but I promise there’s no one after me.” He frowns at that, lips twisting into a little pout. He goes to interject, but you speak again before he can. “If you’re worried about anything, just tell me okay? If there’s anything you need to do to make yourself feel more at ease here, just tell me.” You implore him softly.

Hoseok nods slowly and you see his tail give one small wag. You nod back, and turn to go, but his voice stops you. “I think it would help a lot if I could sleep down here.” Your brow furrows at that.

“This is the only bedroom on this floor, though?”

He whines and looks like he’s about to explain- but a soft voice purring in your ear cuts him off. “He could sleep on the couch,” Jimin supplies, his arms entwining around your middle as he rests his chin on your shoulder. “It’s quite comfortable...Y/N-ah, do you mind dogs on the furniture?” His tone is light, free of the haze of sleep and a little teasing. From the way Hoseok’s ears droop and the way his shoulders curve in, you could tell Jimin hadn’t crept down here for a bit of good-natured ribbing. Your scent sours as your expression does, irritation with the leopard hybrid pricking at you. He lets out a little disgruntled murr in protest as he noses at your neck, trying to get you to soften for him. You tilt your head away from him and disentangle yourself from his arms. It’s three in the morning, you have to cross the city to deal with the fallout from God only knows what, and your neck still aches from the bruise Yoongi had left on it. You have too much on your plate to deal with Jimin needling his new housemate.

“Leave him alone, Jimin,” You exhale, side-stepping the leopard hybrid and heading down the corridor for the door. “Hoseok, you can sleep where you want. I’ve gotta go.”

The doberman takes a step forward. “I’ll come with you-” the icy look Jimin shoots him has him slowing but it’s not until the leopard hybrid bares his teeth at him that he stalls entirely. The sound of his whimper has you whirling around, but when you do, you find Jimin looking at you, blasé and Hoseok eyeing him with uncertainty

“I’ll be back as soon as I can, I promise,” you toss back over your shoulder as you slide your feet into a pair of shoes. “Please, just...if you can’t be friendly, just do your own thing ‘til I get back.” You lace up your sneakers as quickly as you can and duck out the door. “Text me if you need anything; I’ll call on the way back.” And you’re gone, leaving the leopard and the doberman in the dark.

You are not at all confident in their ability to maintain a truce while you’re gone. You’re almost certain that if you hadn’t shoved your way between Namjoon and Yoongi last night, they’d have come to blows right there in the lobby last night. You punch the button for the ground floor and slump back against the railing of the elevator, exhaustion settling heavy on you now that you were alone again. You’d known Yoongi, Jimin and Taehyung weren’t thrilled about sharing their space, but you hadn’t expected this kind of fallout from bringing new hybrids home. You don’t know if there’s anything you can do to make things a little easier, but you want to. Sighing, you resign yourself to more research. You pull out your phone and start typing.

why are my hybrids freaking the fuck out

You backspace. Venting at google wasn’t going to help you figure out what the sharp looks Jimin kept throwing Hoseok while he thought your back was turned meant or why Yoongi had been so furious the other hybrids’ scent was on you.

why don’t my hybrids like each other

Just like all your other searches, this one turns up millions of results. You thumb over the links but none of them are helpful. They’re dealing with puppy hybrids bickering and cat hybrids hissing at each other. None of them cover cross-species beef. None of them deal with exotics. You sigh, lock your phone and tilt your head back to stare at the soft yellow lights in the elevator’s ceiling. You were out of your depth. You’d known that from the moment Mr. Seo turned you into an heiress with a wave of his fountain pen. You get the urge to run, that old niggling feeling that settled like a stone in your mind and made your palms itch.

It’s been years since you last felt the need to pull a disappearing act. You don’t think you’ve done it since the one year anniversary of your mom’s death. The foster home you’d been sent to was a shit show. You found out the woman in charge had been pocketing the money you gave her every month for your mother’s columbarium fees and her urn was in danger of being thrown out. You’d shoved everything you owned into your school bag and walked across the city to get her. When the police found you, you were striding down the side of the highway, her urn clutched to your chest, determined to go anywhere but there.

You hadn’t known where you were going then; you still didn’t now. All you’d had was the urge to flee and fire under your feet. All you’d had was a singular focus on the road ahead.

The elevator reaches the ground floor with a soft ding, the automated voice letting you know you’ve reached the lobby. You step out and shuffle across it with your head down, careful to avoid eye contact with the receptionist watching you warily from behind her desk.

It’s a cold night. A blast of frigid air hits your face the second you’re out the door. You curse under your and fold your arms around yourself in a futile effort to keep warm. You should go back upstairs and get the coat Yoongi made you buy. You shift from one foot to the other, weighing your options- and decide against it. If the conversation you’d had with Hoseok was enough to wake Jimin and send him slinking toward you, you running in and out of the penthouse would almost certainly wake Yoongi up. Memories flash in your mind: his hands gripping your hips tight, his rough tongue laving over your neck, that self-satisfied smirk he’d let spread over his mouth. You pinch yourself, trying to stem the heat you can feel crawling out the neck of your sweatshirt. It had upset you, there was no denying that. The warm feeling that’d bubbled up in your stomach at being touched didn’t wash away the fact that him marking you had nothing to do with your friendship and everything to do with warding off the canine hybrids.

Yeah, you decide, quickening your pace down the ice-slicked sidewalk. You’d much rather face the cold than him.

You make quick work of the walk from Haneul Tower to the streets of the club district. It’s only two blocks up and one over, but by the time you get there, you feel like a giant icicle. You’re out of place in a sweatshirt and scuffed up sneakers among the glitz and glamor of the club-goers, but you don’t have time to deal with your imposter syndrome. You duck into the first taxi you find, pass the old man the address Officer Kwon had given you and settle back.

He complains nearly the entire time about how far out of the way you’re making him go. You apologize as much as you’re able and promise him return fair back to Gangnam if he waits for you. He huffs and puffs, but he still takes you. Forty minutes later, you’re standing on the sidewalk outside of Happy Tails Hybrid Clinic, rapping urgently at the glass. After two minutes that feel like twenty, someone finally answers you.

You think she’s in her late twenties but the dark circles under her eyes she keeps rubbing at make her look older. She’s dressed in the typical winter police uniform, minus her jacket. The pale blue sleeves of her dress shirt are rolled up above her elbows and are blotchy with pale red marks she’d tried to scrub out. Blood. You swallow, your throat suddenly dry.

She unlocks the door and pokes her headout. “Y/N L/N?” She asks, eyes narrowed against the glare of the street lamps.

“Yeah,” you answer, giving one short nod. “Yeah, that’s me.”

“Officer Kwon; we spoke on the phone.” She opens the door for you fully, stepping back and ushering you in urgently. “I’ll be honest,” she says once you’re safely inside and the door is locked back tight again. “I wasn’t sure you were gonna show.”

You frown at that. “Why wouldn’t I have shown?”

“Most of the time when hybrids run, it’s an abuse case.” She drops into one of the plastic chairs lining the waiting room. Her head falls back with a thunk against the yellow plaster. If it hurts, she shows no signs of it, just stares up at the fluorescent lights. You settle on the lip of the chair next to her, feeling awkward and anxious. “The rabbit broke into an Olive Young to steal antiseptic and bandages,” she supplies without you having to ask. “He said he did it for the deer. When he showed me he was…” Officer Kwon exhales sharply and tips forward to rest her head in her hands. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen that much blood.”

“I wouldn’t hurt them,” you insist softly. “It wasn’t me.”

“I know,” she answers, voice muffled against her palms. “I pulled your name and ID picture from the national database and the rabbit didn’t recognize you. Even if you didn’t do it, I didn’t think you’d wanna deal with it.”

Your anxiety spikes at her words. What had happened to the hybrids before she found them? Who’d want to hurt them that badly? Your mouth feels dry, but you force it to move. “Do you know who they were running from?”

Officer Kwon shakes her head and drags her hands down her face. She lets her arms fall to her knees as she hunches over in her chair, back bowed with exhaustion. “Whatever the rabbit knows, he’s not sharing,” she exhales. “-And the deer’s in no position to speak up. He’s been unconscious since I found him.” As if sensing you tense, she adds, “He’s on the table now. I think Dr. Cheon put him under sedation.”

You don’t know what to say. You’re not sure if there’s anything you even can. You have a million questions buzzing around in your mind, but so heavy is the weight of them on your tongue that you can’t find the strength to ask a single one. You’re saved by the doctor coming out from the back.

The door right next to the counter that reads STAFF + PATIENTS ONLY swings open and a middle aged woman in cat print scrubs comes out, shoulders hunched in like she’s got the weight of the world on her back. You can’t blame her; she looks every bit as tired as you feel. She stops just short of you and Officer Kwon, peels off a pair of blue medical gloves, dyed sticky red, and tosses them into the garbage can behind the reception desk. “Well,” she huffs, dragging her fingers through the greying wisps of hair that’d escaped from her braid. “It’s done.”

“How is he?” The police officer asks before you can. Dr. Cheon grimaces and leans against the counter.

“If you hadn’t found him in time, it could’ve been much worse.” You think she’s trying to put you at ease, but you don’t want compromising optimism. You want the truth. “An hour or two later and we’d be dealing with a very different situation, medically.”

You swallow and force yourself to speak. “Do you have any idea how this could’ve happened?”

Dr. Cheon turns her attention to you and blinks slowly, like she’d just noticed you were there. “...this is the guardian?” The police officer nods. The doctor takes you in, eyes roving from the mess of your hair twisted into a bun atop your head, to the scuffed rubber toes of your sneakers. She’s judging you, you know, trying to find something that’d mark you as the reason for the pain and suffering of the hybrids she’d helped. She finds none. “It didn’t happen to them,” she sighs. “Someone did this to them on purpose, likely over the course of several hours.” She tugs the office chair out from behind the desk and sinks into it, her limbs going to jelly the second she’s seated.

“Jeongguk won’t tell me what happened, but I know the signs. Puncture wounds around the entirety of Seokjin’s ankle, remnants of both sedatives and epinephrine in both of their blood, what looks like a bullet graze wound on Jeongguk’s side and he’s got a broken arm,” she rattles off symptom after symptom, each of them making the knot in your belly wind tighter and tighter. “The worst of it is Seokjin’s head. Hairline fractures all along the top of his skull and lacerations on his pedicles. They took his antlers from him.”

You feel sick to your stomach. You knew there were people who hurt hybrids, just like there were people that hurt animals and other people. You just hadn’t expected to ever have to deal with the fallout of one such incident. “Will he be okay?”

“He’ll survive, if that’s what you’re asking,” Dr. Cheon allows. “But he’ll need to be monitored closely during these next few weeks. They were hunted. If they decide to come with you instead of going to the shelter with Officer Kwon, you’ll need to be cognisant of the fact that the trauma from that could manifest in unexpected ways.”

Hunted. They’d been hunted.

You knew hunting was illegal in South Korea, you had that little tidbit tucked away in the recesses of your grade school memory along with the list of provinces and their capitals and the names of all the sailor scouts. It’d been outlawed in the fifties with the rash of hybrid centered legislation after a hunter up in Chungcheongbuk-do had shot a black bear hybrid he’d mistaken for a real bear. It was determined that since humans couldn’t distinguish between regular animals and hybrids shifted down into animal form, hunting had to be outlawed to prevent any accidental killings.

“Were they shifted down?” You ask. “Did someone not realize-”

“No.” Dr. Cheon’s answer is swift and final. “They knew. This was a choice.” The disgust in her voice is palpable.

“There are places that...Some centers cater to people that want to hunt.” Officer Kwon cuts in. “They have hybrids as employees and they let people rent airsoft or paintball guns to come hunt them. It’s supposed to be more ethical than actual hunting. No matter how distasteful I might personally find it, if they have a permit, there’s not really much the police can do unless a law has been broken. ”

“And without any information on where they came from, we can’t prove that one has,” Dr. Cheon finishes. “The most I can do as a vet is submit a report to the police about a possible abuse case and hope it makes its way to the hybrid crimes unit.” You hear the words she doesn’t speak, the meaning behind them. There’s nothing more we can do. They’ll get away with it. This is the end of the line.

Dr. Cheon drops her palms against her knees and forces herself to stand “Jeongguk’s injuries should heal just fine outside of the clinic,” She sighs. “But Seokjin-” she clicks her tongue against her teeth and gives a single shake of her head. “Cervine hybrids don’t shed their antlers like real deer do. There’s no telling if his will grow back or what they’ll look like when they do. All we can do is keep the wounds clean and pray.”

You nod numbly. She gestures for you to follow her and you do, making your way around the reception desk and through the staff door with her.

It’s dim in the back. The overhead lights are off and your path ahead is illuminated only by what light spills over from the reception room and an exam room up ahead. There’s only four of them, but the door to this one is slightly ajar. “Wait here for a second,” Dr. Cheon instructs, slipping through the door and leaving you alone in the corridor. You can hear her speaking softly to someone inside and them answering in even quieter tones. You have to strain to pick up the edge of their voice and even then, you can’t understand what they’re saying. “Would you like her to come in here, or would you like her to stay outside?” You hear her ask. The response is too soft for you to catch but a second later the door swings open.

Dr. Cheon steps out and gestures for the shadowy figure behind her to follow. “It’s alright,” she assures them. “No one here is going to hurt you.” Slowly, they shuffle out from the back.

It’s Jeongguk. There’s no denying what he is, not with the black velvet ears you see poking up out of his mop of wavy, dark hair. They’re alert; they prick toward you when your breath hitches. His eyes are dark and wide and the tip of his nose twitches when he looks at you. You muster up a smile you hope is reassuring and this right foot taps once against the linoleum. Yes, he’s a rabbit- but he’s also fucking huge.

What little research you’d managed to do in between apologizing to your taxi driver and keeping an eye on the fare had been straightforward: rabbit hybrids were naturally timid, needed a lot of attention and were small. Most sources you’d checked seemed to concur that they very rarely cleared 5’5. Jeongguk is pushing 6 feet and he’s built like a professional athlete. You suppose that’s what happens when you’ve spent your whole life running for it.

He’s wearing a teeshirt that’s too tight on his chest, the logo of the Seoul police force stretched thin, and a pair of grey sweatpants that are too short for him, both obviously on loan from Officer Kwon. His feet are bare, but there are bandages wrapped around both of them. True to what Dr. Cheon told you, his arms in a cast and wrapped in a sling. There’s scrapes on his knuckles and bruises blooming on the right side of his face. He looks like he’s been through the wringer. Still, he doesn’t slouch or shrink before you.

“Jeongguk, this is the woman we talked about,” Dr. Cheon tells him. He nods, but doesn’t move his gaze from your face once. “You’ll be going home with her-”

“Only if he wants,” You interject and she nods in agreement, quickly adding that caveat in.

“-only if you want.” He nods again and swallows, his bare foot giving another little tap against the floor.

“What about Seokjin?” He asks you.

“If he wants to come too, he’s welcome to, but neither of you have to if you don’t want to.” There’s a little frown on his face as you answer and he finally looks away. You can’t help but think that’s a bad sign, that he thinks he and his friend would be safer in a shelter that they ever could be with you- but then he asks another question.

“Do you have a husband or a boyfriend?” You frown at that. Why was it that every hybrid in the city was suddenly so concerned with your marital status? Hoseok had asked you in the car last night and now Jeongguk seemed worried about it as well. Sensing your confusion, he clarifies. “Do you live with any men?”

You wince. “Oh! Yeah, I live with five.” You see his expression darken as his ears sag. “They’re mostly predator-”

“If they’re hybrids, it’s fine.” He interjects, a little tension leaving his shoulders. “I can live with them.”

You relax too. From what you’d seen, most shelters weren’t nice places. They were overcrowded and underfunded. If the news was any indication, some of the worse ones got treated like grab bags by fighting rings, who’d shell out a couple thousand won for a canine hybrid and turn him into a prize fighter. You didn’t want that for them, not if you could provide an alternative.

But was it one though? He said he could live with them, but could they live with him? You think back to Yoongi and Namjoon snarling at each other last night, about Jimin’s little jabs at Hoseok. Yeah, you’d need to have another house meeting when you got home if this was ever going to work. Jeongguk had just been through hell and back; the last thing he needed was a territorial bobcat trying him.

“You can change your mind any time,” You tell him softly. “If you get there and feel like it’s not a good fit for you and Seokjin, you can go, okay?”

He dips his head. “Okay.”

“I think Seokjin can decide for himself.”

Your eyes rocket just over Jeongguk’s shoulder. There’s a man leaning heavily against the doorframe of the room the rabbit hybrid had come out of. He’s in a blue exam gown, his feet bare except for a plain white cast on his left leg. Every part of his head from his eyebrows up is bandaged, but you see soft tufts of red-brown hair poking out from between the layers. He looks human. You’d almost think he was if it weren’t for the oblong pupils in his hazel eyes and supple ears you see twitching as he observes you.

“What are you doing up?!” The alarm in Dr. Cheon’s voice is palpable. “Those sedatives should’ve kept you out ‘til morning.” She takes a step like she’s going to rush to his side- but stops short when he tenses and tilts his chin to his chest. Just for a second, it looked like he was preparing himself to square off against her- like he was brandishing something that wasn’t really there. His antlers, you think. He was trying to protect himself with his antlers.

Seokjin forces himself upright, his knees wobbling as he tries to stand on his own. He looks off-balance, and it’s not just because of the cast. He looks like he’s trying to figure out how to stand now that a piece of him is missing. His legs are trembling. “What can I say?” He huffs, sounding like he just ran a marathon. “I like to surprise people.” And then his legs buckle underneath him.

He hits the floor with a heavy thud. Jeongguk and Dr. Cheon rush to his side but he waves them off, eyes closed and brow knit in frustration. “I’m fine,” he insists, pinching the bridge of his nose and trying to struggle back to his feet. “I’m fine, I just…I just need a moment-”

“You need bed rest.” Dr. Cheon goes to latch on to his arm to help him stand but Jeongguk catches her wrist, gives a single shake of his head and she drops it back to her side.

Seokjin manages to get himself back standing, but he sways precariously. “If this were a hunt, I’d already be dead.” He swallows and inhales shakily through his nose, doing his best not to gulp down air. “You should have left me, Jeongguk. You know the rules. One falls, but the herd rises-”

“The herd is gone, Seokjin.” The bitterness in the younger hybrid’s voice takes you aback. It’s a black wave, threatening to drown all four of you right there in the corridor. Seokjin stares at him, his jaw slack and pretty brown eyes wide.

“What do you-”

“They’re gone.” The rabbit hybrid’s bruised fingers clench into a fist and he fixes his glare on the tile. “All of them.”

Silence rings in the corridor. Dr. Cheon’s mouth is pressed into a thin line, but she doesn’t press for details and neither do you. She’d been right. They’d been hunted. The thought of it turns your stomach. Seokjin closes his eyes, long lashes fanning out over his cheeks as a muscle tenses in his jaw. He’s thinking. When he opens his eyes again, his gaze is settled on you. Your heart jumps as your nerves get the better of you, and one of his ears flicks back.

“You’re taking us?” He asks. You swallow.

“Only if you want me to.” An unreadable look passes between him and Jeongguk, the younger’s nose twitching.

“Speaking strictly as your doctor,” Dr. Cheon speaks up, interrupting the hybrids’ telepathy. “You need time to rest and recuperate-”

“Is there any special reason I have to rest and recuperate here?” He asks. You can’t help but notice the slight challenge in his voice. The corner of the doctor’s mouth twitches.

“No, I suppose not,” she acquiesces. She doesn’t look particularly pleased about the prospect of letting her patient go when he was still in the danger zone, but if the look of determination in Seokjin’s eyes is any indication, she doesn’t have much choice.

“Then, we’ll go.” The tone of his voice is final, letting everyone present know that he’s done talking about it.

That's the last that’s said to you or anyone else about it. Jeongguk falls in line with his orders easily and so doesDr. Cheon after she manages to get him to accept a pair of crutches she’d foisted upon him and passes off a prescription for pain meds and both of their check up schedules to you.

“It’s important that they don’t miss these dates,” she tells you at the reception counter, tapping the sheath of papers with one clean, blunted nail. “A single one of them. And make sure they don’t shift ‘til I’ve given them the all clear. Hybrid injuries are tricky, but they’re aggravated by the shift.” You nod, hanging onto every word she says, forcing your tired brain to take mental notes. “And-” she cuts her eyes at Jeongguk and Jin, both of whom are lingering in various extremes in the room, the deer hybrid sitting ramrod straight in a chair in the far right corner and the rabbit pretending to browse informational pamphlets. Once Dr. Cheon’s deemed it safe, she leans closer to you across the counter and gestures for you to come closer as well. You blink in confusion but acquiesce. “It’s important that your current hybrids be made to feel secure with the new additions coming.” She tells you, voice gravely serious. “Do you know about scenting order?”

After a beat, you nod. “Yeah. I mean, I read about it online but-”

Dr. Cheon tuts her tongue against the back of her teeth. “Online sources are shaky at best, wildly inaccurate at worst- particularly forums.” Your stomach flips. Had all your research been for nothing? “What did they tell you?”

“Um…” your brain boots up slowly as you try to recall the hours of research you’d done. “Uh, dominant hybrid first, then in age order?”

The corner of Dr. Cheon’s mouth quirks in an odd way. “That’s certainly a simplified way of looking at it.”

You wince.

“Hybrid group dynamics can be…” She searches for the right word. “Messy to start out with, especially with hybrids who don’t know each other who find themselves with an inexperienced handler. They’re all going to be trying to figure out where they fit in the pecking order as well as how their relationship with you works. There’s likely to be a lot of posturing, not just in order to impress you, but to solidify their place as well.” Dr. Cheon drags a hand down over her face. “Seven male hybrids under one roof...It’d be a miracle if no one’s missing fingers by the time the week’s out.”

“Is there any way I can stop them from being mean to each other?”

“I’m not a behaviorist,” The doctor sighs. “But I’d suggest you start with a conversation.”

You slide into the back of the taxi a little after 5:30 AM and pull out your phone. You’d promised to call on the way back and you don’t want a repeat of what’d happened the last time you’d forgotten. You scroll down your contacts, thumb hovering over Yoongi’s name and you hesitate. You remember warm lips, a rough tongue. You remember hands gripping your hips tight and a possessive growl in your ear. You press Taehyung’s name instead.

The tiger hybrid picks up on the third ring. “Hello?” His voice is slow and scratchy, still thick with sleep.

“Hey, it’s Y/N-” Almost immediately a happy rumbling starts from his end of the line. You can hear the sleepy joy in it and it makes your face warm.”A-and I just wanted to let you guys know I’m on the way home.”

Taehyung hums in acknowledgement, a low, musical sound. “Where’d you go?”

You bite your lip as nerves spark up in you. Well, all things considered, it was probably better for him to find out now rather than later. “The last two hybrids my uncle got…they were hurt and I had to come get them.”

The line is quiet for a moment and you gnaw at the bottom of your lip. Finally, Taehyung speaks. “Ah.” That’s all he says. Somehow, that’s worse than whatever Yoongi growling at the new hybrids or Jimin icing them out.

“I’ll be home in about another forty-five minutes, okay? Could you have everyone get together in the living room for me? We need to have a conversation.”

“Yeah, I can.”

You wince. There’s an almost imperceptible change in his voice. You swallow. “Taehyung, are you upset?”

He hums again like he’s considering it. “No,” he answers after a moment. “I don’t think i am. At least, not with you.”

That does little to allay your fears, but you force yourself to sound upbeat when you tell him, “I’ll see you when I get home, okay?”

“Okay. I’ll see you when you get home.”

The line clicks off and you drop your head against the headrest. A conversation. It should be a simple thing, but you spend the entirety of your taxi ride back to Gangnam with your stomach in knots. If the thought of introducing your two (very injured, very vulnerable) new hybrids to a house full of predators wasn’t enough, you have to try to allay Jeongguk’s inexplicable fear of the taxi driver. The middle aged man isn’t thrilled about ferrying hybrids across the city anyway, but between Seokjin swooning and Jeongguk thumping his foot so hard the whole car rattles whenever the man so much as looks in his rearview mirror, he’s almost ready to put all three of you out on the side of the highway. You have to promise him a 50,000 won tip just to get him to relent. He rolls up the partition, but even that doesn’t put Jeongguk at ease.

The rabbit hybrid is curled up in the corner of the backseat, his back against the door, his injured arm cradled close and his knees pulled up to his chin. His ears are on high alert, twitching at every passing car or stray siren. His whole body is tensed up like there’s a current running through it, like if he lets himself relax for a second, he’ll disperse into nothing. He’s glaring daggers at the partition, but you know he can’t see the driver. The car rolls over a speed bump a bit too fast and he flinches, hand shooting out for the door handle.

You watch him, concern coloring your scent. It’s not your place to ask, you know, and you feel almost stupid doing it, but the words slip out of their own accord. “Are you okay?” It’s a ridiculous question. You can still see the bruises blooming on his cheekbone, see the angry red of his split lip in the stray light of street lamps. His dark eyes flick toward you, round nose twitching.

“How do you know he’s taking us somewhere safe?” His gaze shifts from you, to the partition, to Seokjin, dozing fitfully on your otherside. The deer hybrid had finally surrendered to his pain meds not a second after you’d helped buckle him in. He’d been out cold before the driver had pulled away from the curb.

“Because that’s what I paid him to do,” you tell him, truthfully. You’d never given much thought to how much trust you placed in taxi and bus drivers to not kidnap you before. You certainly had to now, especially when Jeongguk seemed hyperaware of the fact that you’d entrusted all of your lives to a stranger. The rabbit hybrid swallows, his adam’s apple bobbing in the long column of his throat. He gives a little shake of his head.

“He could take your money and still take us somewhere bad. He could take us up into the mountains and Seokjin and I wouldn’t be able to do anything because we’re hurt and-”

“That’s not going to happen, Jeongguk,” you say in as soothing a voice as you can manage to muster up. “It’s really unlikely that that’ll happen, but even if it did, I’d do my best to protect you.”

He snorts, ears tilting back. They brush the roof of the car as they do and he shrinks himself, shoulders hunching forward. “What can you do?” His tone is derisive. “You’re only human. You’re not as fast as us or as strong-”

“I’d try,” you insist, some strong, unnameable emotion tightening your chest at the thought of them in danger. “If if came down to it, I’d still try to protect the pair of you-”

“You don’t even know me.” Jeongguk’s voice is edging somewhere between disgust and disbelief. You look away from him then and at your hands, gripping your knees.

“I don’t,” you agree easily. “But I’d like to. Even if I don’t- even if I didn’t, people should still help each other when they can. We owe each other that much.” The taxi is quiet for a moment, only the sound of tires rushing over the slick pavement and other cars zooming by filling the empty air between the two of you. Finally, the rabbit hybrid exhales shakily.

“I’m not a person.” He sounds resigned to that fact, like he’s accepted a burden far too heavy for him. “I’m not even an animal. I’m a-”

“Just because you aren’t human…” you start off hesitantly, very much aware that you might be crossing several invisible lines. “...doesn’t mean you’re not a person. You have your own thoughts and feelings and emotions. You deserve to have them heard. I know I’m not as fast as you or as strong, but the least I can do is listen to you, right?” The car is silent again. You’re too nervous to look at Jeongguk, worried that you’d gone too far- but then there’s a warm weight against your side. It starts slow at first, just your shoulders brushing against each other, but before you know it, Jeongguk’s leaning his whole body against yours. He’s slumped over with his head tucked beneath your chin like he doesn’t have the strength to hold himself up anymore. You swallow, your throat suddenly dry. “Jeongguk-”

“I’m afraid.” He admits in a whisper, like it’s the worst thing in the world. “Everything in me tells me to run all the time, but I can’t anymore.” His ears droop and his pretty dark eyes slip shut. This close, you can hear his heart beating at breakneck speed in his chest, feel how he shudders with every shaky inhale. “I’m so tired of running.” He’s terrified. You wouldn’t have guessed from his posture. Maybe the reason he held himself so tight was to stop himself from shaking apart.

You watch in surprise as the rabbit hybrid links his fingers with yours and drops your hand on top of his head, right between his velvety ears. “Help me like this.” You’re frozen, unsure what to do with a six foot tall man practically crawling into your sweatshirt with you. Was this really okay? He’d just been through something traumatic, the details of which you know nothing about. You hadn’t thought he’d want anyone to touch him, much less you, a virtual stranger. You don’t know what to do. The car jerks to a quick stop and the taxi driver leans on his horn, curses jaywalkers. Jeongguk’s grip on you tightens and he flinches so hard you’re surprised he didn’t knock his head into your teeth. He exhales shakily, tilts his head up and brushes his nose along the underside of your jaw. “Please,” he asks in a voice so small you know it’s killing him. “Just ‘til we get there, please just let me be weak.”

That breaks something inside you. Despite how awkward you might feel, he’s sure to be feeling worse. You wrap your arms fully around him, hesitant until you feel him go lax in your arms. You slowly stroke the back of his head and he buries his face in your clavicle, his eyes squeezed shut. “We’re almost there,” you assure him gently as he fists his good hand in the fabric of your sweatshirt. “You’re almost home.”

By the time the three of you arrive back at Haneul tower, the sky is lightening in the east and the first wave of office workers are making their way from your building into the streets of Gangnam. It’s not even 6 AM yet, but the city is stirring.

It takes you a good ten minutes to rouse both the boys and get them out of the taxi. After you’d let Jeongguk cling to you, the rabbit hybrid had fallen asleep quickly, the exhaustion from his turbulent day finally catching up to him. Even in sleep he was latched on to you, a small crease between his brows and his nose wrinkled up. Seokjin hadn’t fared much better. The cocktail of meds Dr. Cheon had given him had rendered him dead to the world for the entirety of the drive back. Even now you were having trouble rousing him.

“Seokjin…” You shake the sleeping stag’s shoulders but the only response you get is a slight hitch in his snoring. “Seokjin, please wake up, we have to go…” You can practically feel the glare the taxi driver is giving you in his rearview mirror. Yeah, the meter is still running, but you’ve taken up enough of his time as it is. “Seokjin, come on…” Jeongguk is standing behind you, staring bleary-eyed up at the apartment building, his free hand fisted in the fabric of your sweatshirt. If he’s cold in his thin tee-shirt and bare feet, he makes no mention of it.

Without warning, the taxi driver leans on the horn. Seokjin’s eyes fly open and he sits bolt upright, fear making his body tight. Jeongguk jerks so violently you think he’s going to rip a hole in your sweatshirt. You stumble back a few paces, trying to steady the rabbit and stop the pair of you from tumbling into the street. When you manage to right yourself, you slam a palm against the roof of the car and glare in the window at the driver. “Yo, what the fuck?”

The man glares back at you and waves you off. “I don’t have all day!” He shouts. “Get your animal and get out!”

You want to argue with him, you want to make him apologize- but the sight of Seokjin disoriented and afraid stops you. He’s looking at you with hazy eyes, his whole body stiff and his chest heaving. It’s for his sake alone that you hold your tongue. You reach a hand out to him. “Come on, buddy.” You say. “I got you.” He looks from your face to your hand and finally, slowly, places his own in it. His fingers are long and elegant and his hand dwarfs your’s. You tug him from the backseat and he leans heavily on you, hopping awkwardly to avoid walking on his broken foot. You pass him his crutches and he takes them, wobbling awkwardly as he tries to set himself to rights. “Can you stand?” You ask him. He nods and starts limping for the glass doors of Haneul Tower. He’s doing his best to look strong. His back is straight and his head is high, but you don’t miss the tremble in his fingers or the way he winces whenever the wind blows over the top of his head. You shove some bills at the taxi driver with a final, disapproving look, usher Jeongguk up onto the sidewalk and head inside after Seokjin.

The moment the three of you breach the double doors, Jeongguk drops his hand from your sweatshirt. His eyes rove over the glass and granite, round nose twitching at all the scents and his ears standing at attention on top of his head. He pauses, a little furrow between his brows. You’re halfway to the elevators, hovering a foot behind Seokjin in case he falls, before you notice the rabbit hybrid isn’t following you.

You cast a look back over his shoulder and find him gawking up at the hanging lights, mouth slightly ajar and starry-eyed. The corner of your mouth twitches. He’s cute, you decide. The thought leaves you almost instantly when you see Mr. Park powerwalking over to him, a sunny smile on his face. Jeongguk takes notice of him only a split second after you do and his eyes wide. You see him tense up, watch the fingers on his uninjured hand curl into a ball.

“You need to get him,” Seokjin says, sounding like he’s out of breath. You turn your attention back to the deer hybrid. He’s leaning heavily on his crutches and his face is pale. “You need to get him,” he repeats, nodding at Jeongguk. “That man gets any closer and Jeongguk will kick him.”

You whip back around. Mr. Park is closing the distance between them, seemingly unconcerned by the look of distress on the rabbit hybrids face or how his foot seems to be tapping a mile a minute.

“Excuse me!” The older man says, reaching out to put a hand on the rabbit hybrid’s shoulder. “Where’s your-”

“Mr. Park!” You practically sprint over as fast as you can, sliding between the receptionist and the hybrid just as he’d started winding his leg back. Mr. Park blinks, surprised to find you so suddenly in front of him. You offer him a tight smile. “He’s with me.”

“Oh! Ms. L/N, I apologize. He didn’t have a collar, so I assumed he was a stray.” The statement pricks at you, but you know he means nothing by it, so you try to stamp down your irritation. “It’s rare but we do occasionally have them come in in the hope someone will take them in.” He clucks his tongue against his teeth. “Such a shame really.”

You feel Jeongguk’s hand fist in the fabric of your sweatshirt. He wants to go. You nod emphatically at what Mr. Park says, already heading back to the elevators. “Yeah, totally,” you agree, shuffling the rabbit hybrid in front of you and putting some distance between him and the elderly man. “Well, have a good morning! I’ll see you later!”

“Ms. L/N, I actually need to speak with you-”

You wave him off and duck into the elevator Seokjin had called in your brief absence. “We’ll talk later!” You tell him, pressing the close door buttons as quickly as you can and willing them to shut before he can catch up.

“But it’s about your-!”

The doors click shut and you’re blessed with silence. You exhale in a short puff, press the button for the penthouse and slump against the cool metal wall, finally letting yourself relax for a moment. The elevator starts rolling and Jeongguk flinches beside you. He duck his head like he’s going to crouch down- but he stops himself, grips the railing instead.

“It’s okay,” You soothe. “It’s just-”

“I’m fine,” he insists, forcing himself to stand up straight and release the death grip he has on your sweatshirt. “I’m fine; my time’s up.”

It’s just like he’d said in the car. Just ‘til we get there, let me be weak.

The rest of the elevator ride passes in silence outside of the automated bell dinging as you pass each new floor and Seokjin panting quietly. He’s in a bad way. He’ll need another dose of pain meds soon. You arrive on the top floor, punching in the key code and pull the door open. “Let me get Seokjin settled, Jeongguk and I-” You run directly into someone.

Their arms wrap around you, covered in a brown cable knit sweater. It’s soft and they smell of vanilla. They press their cheek against the top of your head and exhale, a little rumble kicking up in their chest. “You’re back.” Taehyung.

“Hey, buddy.” You pat him on the back gently and peer around him. Yoongi and Jimin are both sprawled on the couch, legs kicked out so there isn’t room for anyone else to join them. Namjoon is sitting on the stairs shooting daggers at the back of Yoongi’s head and his arms crossed over his chest.Hoseok is lingering in the no man’s land between the living room and kitchen looking like he’d much rather be anywhere else. The atmosphere is tense to say the least.

Taehyung dips his head down. “I got them, like you said,” he whispers, lips brushing against the tip of your ear and his breath warm. You have fight off a little shiver, but if he notices it, he doesn’t react. “I don’t think Hyung and Jiminie like the others very much.”

You give a little nod of acknowledgement. “That’s okay,” you tell him. “We all just need to get to know each other a little better.”

Seokjin hobbles through the door, past the tiger hybrid and drops himself onto a stool on the kitchen with a heavy exhale. “Well, I’ve got maybe fifteen minutes at most before these meds catch a second wind, so let’s get this over with.” He’s doing his best to sound cavalier but he’s pallid. You don’t miss the thin sheen of cold sweat on his face and neck. “Seokjin. Twenty-eight. Red stag.”

All the other hybrids are staring at him in a mix of confusion, irritation and, in some cases, open dislike. It seems like they don’t know what to make of him. It’s Yoongi who speaks first. “If you’re a stag,” he drawls and you already feel dread welling up in you at what you know is going to follow. “Where are your antlers?”

Seokjin fixes him with a tight-lipped smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. “I only put them on for special occasions.”

“Okay!” You clap your hands together trying to diffuse the tension you can feel building. “New house rule: let’s not ask each other about injuries past or present unless we’re asking how to help.” Yoongi looks miffed, but he settles. It’s weird. Normally, you’d have expected him to say something snarky back to you. He’s trying not to push his luck after last night, you think. “Yoongi, why don’t you go next?”

His ears flick in annoyance, but he does as you ask. “I’m Yoongi, I’m twenty-seven and I’m a bobcat-”

“I’m Jimin,” his junior pipes up before he’s hardly had time to finish. “I’m an amur leopard and I came here with Yoongi-hyung and Tae. We’ve been with Y/N the longest.” He says it like it’s an important piece of information for everyone to know.

Beside you, Taehyung lifts one hand, palm up. “Hi,” he says calmly. “I’m Taehyung. I like the color purple.” Everyone watches him to see what else he’s going to say, but the tiger hybrid is finished. You give him a little nudge with your shoulder.

“Tell them how old you are and what your hybrid is,” you suggest.

“Oh,” he lifts his eyebrows like the thought genuinely hadn’t occurred to him. “I’m twenty-four and I’m a tiger.” Suddenly remembering something, he tilts his head forward in a little bow. “It’s nice to meet you all.” A sour look takes over Yoongi’s face and Jimin rolls his eyes, gestures for the youngest of their group to come sit beside him.

Hoseok is the next one to pipe up. “I’m Hoseok!” He seems to perk up a little when you turn your eyes to him, his docked tail giving as much of a wag as it’s able. “I’m a Doberman, I’m twenty-six and Joonie and I came from the same pla-”

“My name is Namjoon.” The wolfdog cuts off the other canine with a growl. All the wind goes out of Hoseok’s sails and you don’t miss the way Seokjin freezes up at the dark sound, suddenly alert. You weren’t sure if prey hybrids still avoided predator hybrids like their animal counterparts did, but you’d need to learn and fast. Namjoon leans back on the stairs, his jaw clenched. “I’m the same age as him-” he jerks his head at the Doberman hybrid. “-so I guess I’m twenty-six too.” He makes no mention of his hybrid and you don’t press. You don’t know how sensitive a subject it is for him yet, but you don’t want to find out the hard way.

Hoseok looks back at you and cocks his head to the side, his gaze fixed on a spot just over your shoulder. “Who’s he?”

Five pairs of eyes follow his. You turn around. Outside the apartment, still in the corridor, is Jeongguk, his back pressed against the wall and his eyes wide as he surveys the mixed bag of hybrids spread out in front of you. Your eyebrows furrow in concern.

“Do you wanna come in?”

His gaze flicks from you, to the cats, then to Hoseok and finally to Namjoon. It’s only when he sees the wolfdog hybrid that he moves from the wall. He takes halting, jittery steps one after the other until he’s planted by your side, his eyes on his bare feet. Every move he makes makes it look like he’s fighting against his own body, forcing himself to tamp down his instinct and move.

“Can you introduce yourself?” You ask him softly. “Or do you want me to?”

His good hand clenches into a fist and forces himself to look up. He meets each of the other hybrid’s eyes evenly. “My name is Jeongguk.” When he speaks, there’s no shake in his voice. “I’m twenty-three years old. I came from the same place as Seokjin but we don’t know each other that well. I’m a Flemish Giant Rabbit.” So that was why he was so big. You’d never seen a Flemish Giant in real life, but you’d happened across the odd youtube video of them once or twice in your suggestions. They were huge.

With introductions out of the way, you feel a little tension melt out of your shoulders. That was the biggest hurdle. Maybe now that they all at least knew each other, they’d be a little more open to being around each other. You let out a little exhale. “And I’m Y/N. I’m also twenty-three and this is my uncle’s apartment. He’s the only that bought all of you but I only found out you were coming a little over a week ago, so please forgive me for being unprepared.” You rub your palms against your eyes, trying to combat the exhaustion you can feel crawling over you. “I don’t know that much about hybrids, but I’m trying to learn. A lot of things you’re gonna have to help me with. I’m not expecting you guys to be pets or best friends or anything, but if we could all try to get along I’d appreciate it.” You offer all seven them a weary smile. “Thanks for getting up early to do this, guys, I appreciate it. If there’s anything you need, literally anything, please don’t be scared to ask-”

“Um, Y/N?” Hoseok is looking at you like he’s been dying to say something for the past five minutes. You turn your attention to him and squint as you try to focus on what he’s saying. “I did a sweep of the apartment earlier-” That was concerning. You make a mental note to tell him he doesn’t have to do security sweeps anymore. “-and there’s only four bedrooms.”

You blink at him in confusion.

“There’s eight of us.”

Oh. Oh. You drag your hands down over your face. You hadn’t accounted for lack of space being an issue. When you first moved in, Oliver’s penthouse seemed like it went on forever. “Okay,” you start, crunching some quick numbers. “Some of us are gonna have to double up.” There’s a disgruntled mrow from the couch and without looking, you know it’s Jimin. “Yoongi, Jimin and Taehyung are already sharing so they’re exempt, but Seokjin needs his own room- at least until he recovers.”

“That’s fine by me,” the stag chimes in. “But that leaves Jeongguk without a-”

“Hyung, can I stay with you?” The room goes quiet.

“Seokjin really needs his own room-” You pull your face out of your hands to address the rabbit hybrid, but he isn’t looking at the stag. His eyes are fixed on Namjoon who’s looking at him in a mix of confusion and alarm. The wolfdog looks from the rabbit to you.

“I saw a camp bed out in the greenhouse while you were showing us around last night.” He says, standing to go. “I’ll sleep out there.”

“Namjoon, you don’t have to sleep outside-”

“I like it out there.” He calls back over his shoulder as he climbs the stairs. “I can see the sky.” Then he’s gone and the six of you are left.

“Well,” Jimin purrs, rising and crossing the living room to you. “Best of luck.” He rubs his cheek against yours, folding you into a loose hug. You think he’s about to pull away, but he whispers in your ear, “If you want to share with us, you know where we sleep.” And then he’s gone, sauntering up the stairs with Taehyung and Yoongi in tow. The bobcat tosses a look at you, but you look away quickly, missing the way his ears sage when you do.

Now, the only ones left are you, Jeongguk, Hoseok and Seokjin who’s rapidly fading. “I’ll take the couch,” you volunteer. It wouldn’t be the most comfortable thing in the world, but right now, the stark white cushions look like heaven to your sleep-deprived mind. “Seokjin can have my room-”

“He can have mine,” Hoseok interjects. “And, if it’s okay, could I stay with you?” There’s a light whine on the end of his words and you don’t miss the way his ears prick up in anticipation of your answer. “It’s what I wanted to ask you earlier.”

Oh. When Jimin interrupted him, that’s what he’d been trying to say: he wanted to sleep in your room to be closer to you. To protect you.

“Yeah,” you agree easily. “Yeah, that’s fine.” Sharing beds wasn’t a big deal for you. You’d grown up in a flat with your mom and had shared a bed with her til she’d been taken from you. Then in foster homes with too many kids and not enough resources, you’d had to double- and sometimes even triple- up. It was a matter of convenience and space.

Hoseok’s tail gives a little wag and he nods, happy with your decision.

“Great!” Seokjin cheers weakly. “Now can someone please help me lie down.”

It’s Hoseok that helps the stag hybrid up the stairs and into bed. He’s stronger than you and taller, so it only makes sense. You show Jeongguk to his new room and stay with him for a few minutes while he feels it out, making sure it’s safe. It’s only once he’s sequestered himself under the covers and dismissed you that you leave, closing the door quietly behind you as the rabbit hybrid settles down for some much needed sleep. You turn to head back for the stairs- but you find Yoongi at the other end of the corridor, staring you down. You stare back. He swallows.

“Can we talk?” He asks, his voice quieter than you ever remember hearing it.

You give a little nod. “Yeah,” you assent. “We need to.”

He meets you halfway, his hands shoved into the pockets of his joggers and his gaze anywhere but on your face. The seconds stretch out and you exhale, closing your eyes. “Yoongi, about last night-”

“I’m sorry,” he interjects. “About what happened in the elevator. It was disrespectful and immature. I won’t do it again.”

You balk at him. You’d honestly expected him to tell you you were being childish for reacting so strongly to it when you’d told him he could mark you whenever he was ready. But he hadn’t. He shuffles back a few steps, his head still low.

“Well, that was all I wanted to say to you, so-”

“Do you understand?” You ask him. He stops short. “Do you understand why I was upset?”

His tongue darts out to wet his lips and you see a little furrow between his gray eyebrows. “Because I marked you.”

“No,” you insist, emphatically. “I was upset because it didn’t feel like you were doing it for me.” He does look up at you then, yellow eyes unreadable. “It didn’t feel like you were marking me because we’re friends or you wanted me to be a part of your group. It felt like you were doing it to show off in front of Namjoon and Hoseok.” You swallow. “And that hurt my feelings.” It feels good to say. It feels good to talk about.

He lets out a little chirp of distress. “I don’t wanna hurt you,” he rasps. “I just-” He rakes a hand back through his hair and shakes his head. “Fuck, I just felt like if I didn’t do something right then you’d get bored of me and send me away. I thought you’d replace me with them.”

Your heart twists. You know the feeling more intimately than you’d like to admit. You reach out, hesitantly and squeeze Yoongi’s arm. “Yoongi, I’m not gonna send you away. Ever. It’s important to me that you know that. Unless you wanna go, you can stay. There’s room enough for all of you.”

“No there’s not, that’s why we’re sharing rooms,” he drawls.

You roll your eyes and let out a little chuckle. “Okay, smart-ass.”

The corner of his mouth curls up at the playful insult. After a moment, he speaks. “I don’t, for the record,” he says. “Wanna go, I mean.” He stares down into your face, yellow eyes intense. The seconds drag on and something between the two of you grows tight. He leans down, face nuzzling the soft spot between your ear and your jaw. He huffs. “Bunny scented you,” he mutters, tail flicking in annoyance, but there’s no heat behind it. You’re relieved.

“He was afraid in the car,” you answer softly. “I think it helped.” Your hands slip from his arms around his back and he purrs. It’s the first time you’ve heard him make that sound. It sends warm vibrations through your whole body and you giggle. Yoongi smiles against your skin and your heart leaps. He’s never smiled around you before. You can’t see it, but you can feel it. You know it’s there. “Do you want to try again?”

Yoongi exhales, his breath warm on your neck. “Can I?”

“Yeah,” you say, tilting your head to the side for him. “You can.”

This time is different, you can feel that from the onset. His fingers wrap gently around your hips and he nuzzles into your skin. He nips lightly at the skin below your ear, the corner of your jaw, all down the column of your neck until he reaches the spot where it joins your shoulder. He hums, wraps his arms around you fully and pulls you flush against the hard line of his body. Your breath hatches and you can practically hear your heart thudding traitorously in your chest.

It’s not a big deal, you tell yourself as he laves his rough tongue against your feverish skin. It’s not a big deal; marking isn’t sexual. This isn’t a big deal, there’s no need to be nervous or get- the points of his teeth scrape over the mark before he laps at again and you have to bite back a whimper. Your knees feel a little weak- that is, until Yoongi slots his thigh between them, keeping you up while he finishes his work. Your hands ball up into fists in the fabric of his t shirt and you grit your teeth together with the effort of keeping quiet. He pulls off your neck with a wet pop and you swear you’re imagining it when he presses a final kiss to his mark. He noses your ear, still purring and you think he’s gonna mark you more- but then his warmth is gone and his standing before you, eyes a little hazier but no worse for wear.

He reaches up and flicks you in the forehead. You grumble at him, covering the spot up with your hands before he can do it again. A lazy smirk spreads out on his face. “Welcome to the family,” he drawls. Then he’s turning on his heel and heading back to his shared bedroom. “Don’t wipe this one off this time, okay?”

You nod mutely after him as he disappears, your hand cupping your mark. “What was that?” You wonder. You descend the stairs in a daze, your mind whirling. None of your research had told you creating a mark would be like that. You’d thought it was a quick thing and Yoongi had just been showboating for the canines. Even in the videos you watched, the hybrid had leaned in close to the human, given then a few quick swipes with their tongue and moved on. Then again, those hybrids had all been domesticated dog or cat breeds. “Are exotics different?” You muse, turning the handle to your bedroom- and promptly tripping over someone.

This time, you don’t go all the way down. You make it halfway before Hoseok catches you. “Ah, I’m sorry, Y/N!” The dog hybrid whines, fussing over you as he sets you back to rights. “I’ll do better about staying out of your way, I promise-”

“It’s okay,” you soothe, trying to stop him from fretting. “It’s okay, I’m okay.” You survey the floor of your bedroom. It seemed like in his security sweep earlier, Hoseok had found the linen cabinet and made use of the spare blankets. His pillow and a comforter are set up in a little pallet on the floor in front of your door. It seems he’d been putting the final touches on it when you’d stumbled over him. “Hoseok…” you start slowly. The Doberman looks at you, ears pricked up. “Hoseok, I wasn’t expecting you to sleep on the floor.”

He cocks his head to the side, doglike even in his confusion. “Then where…?”

“The bed is big enough,” you say, gesturing to the queen sized bed dominating the center of the room. “I don’t mind sharing if you’re comfortable with it.”

His adam’s apple bob’s in his throat as he swallows, suddenly serious. “Yeah,” he says with a nod. “Yeah, I’m comfortable with it.”

You nod and pat him on the shoulder, passing him as you head to bed. “Come on, then.” You collapse onto your bed face-first and slip back under the covers with a groan. “I’m just gonna take a quick nap before I’ve gotta get up and deal with stuff…”

The room is quiet, but somewhere in it, you can hear Hoseok shuffling around. “Maybe I should check to make sure everything is safe one more time?”

You exhale, your eyes slipping shut. “Hoseok…”

“Did you lock the front door after you came in? I think the rabbit...Jeongguk was the last one in? I don’t remember him locking-”

“Hope, bed. Now.” He doesn’t say anything else, but a few seconds later, you feel the far side of the bed dip with his weight. You sigh as he shifts to get under the blankets and you snuggle down further into your pillow. “Sleep well, Hobi.”

He mumbles something under his breath about security being a serious issue, but you don’t catch it. You’re already halfway to dreamland.

#thebtswritersclub #hybridbtsnetwork #bts fic #bts x reader #bts x y/n #hybrid!bts #ot7 x reader #seokjin x reader #namjoon x reader #jhope x reader #yoongi x reader #jungkook x reader #jimin x reader #taehyung x reader

[sparklysung]

✨SWALLOW YOUR WORDS – l.d.h.✨

© sparklysung – 2021. all rights reserved. no reposts, modifications and/or translations allowed.

pairing – lee donghyuck x female!reader

genre – smut | non-idol!au, enemies to lovers!au

warnings – switch!donghyuck, switch!reader, lap dance, cumming in pants, grinding, dry humping, cum eating, hair pulling (giving and receiving), spanking, mirror sex, protected sex (reader’s on the pill), degradation, dirty talk, bondage (belt), possessiveness (i guess?)

word count – 6.043 words

summary – it only took a couple of words to make the blood boil in your veins and being the competitive individual you are, you had to prove lee donghyuck, your all-time enemy, wrong.

note – not my best, probably could've done better, but oh well. also this was frkng hard to write, damn, and i may have changed things a bit? BUT, i think it's better like this so… hope you enjoy! btw, i got the idea while reading this, so go check it out –it's good–.

taglist – @prvncejxon, @iwishihadabettername

another friday night wasting your time at some random classmate’s party. you were everything but happy to be there. you didn’t even want to go there in the first place, only finding yourself sitting on the kitchen counter, drink in hand and an ugly scowl adorning your face, because of your annoying best friend.

“hey, i get it, you didn’t wanna come here when you could have been peacefully sleeping in the comfort of your room, but come on, at least try to have some fun. you’re already here anyway.” eunbin –aka your annoying best friend– said, pouting her lips in a failed attempt of looking cute.

you kind of felt bad for her, you suppose it wasn’t exactly easy to deal with your lazy ass. but still, she was supposed to love you and appreciate you just the way you were.

and most of the time she did, just not in this specific situation.

“this isn’t fun at all, i just wanna go home. there’s nothing in here for me at all.”

you brought the red plastic cup to your lips, taking a sip of the bitter liquid eunbin had mixed for you. you weren’t lying, there really wasn’t anything that would make you want to stay, only a few friends of yours getting drunk somewhere in the big house you were currently in.

“come on, please, stay for me,” eunbin fake cried, and for a moment you thought she was going to give up and let you go. “in a bit the guys are gonna play something fun! we should join them, please?” as her last resort, she looked at you with puppy eyes. she was playing dirty and she knew it, you both knew you couldn’t resist them.

giving in with an exasperated sigh, you jumped off the counter to get yourself another drink from the bar in the living room. you were minding your own business until you heard him, the last person you wanted to see at the moment.

“so, i’m telling you guys, she was literally begging me to fuck her, she even moaned while sucking me off–,” donghyuck’s obnoxious voice filled your ears, making you roll your eyes. he was surrounded by a couple of other guys you didn’t know so well but were sure you had seen them before around campus hanging out with him.

“shut up already, dongdong, no one wants to hear it.” you interrupted, walking past him and towards the half empty bottle of vodka on the bar counter.

the group of boys stopped abruptly, all of them turning to look at you, ready for the scene that was going to take place in matter of minutes. donghyuck’s attention also turned to you, biting back a triumphant smirk with a raised eyebrow. he could see past you so he didn’t mind the mocking nickname you used; he could tell you were trying to irritate him enough to make him go away. but he wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon. he had been eyeing you all night, trying to find ways to get under your skin to catch your attention. and finally, after staying at a safe distance for a while to not spark suspicions, he got what he wanted.

“why so feisty, babe.” the cocky smirk he gave you just made your blood boil, the growing desire to punch it off his pretty face only getting stronger the more you stared at him.

“don’t you get tired of talking shit all day?” you barked, eyes trained on his body while pouring yourself a good amount of alcohol.

you were certainly going to need a lot of liquid courage to get through the night.

“you boast about girls begging for you but i think you’re just trying to hide the fact that you’re the one who has to beg to get laid.”

“i don’t beg, baby.” you rolled your eyes and muttered a ‘sure’. “also, if you’re jealous of me fucking other girls you just had to say it. i wouldn’t be against giving it to you instead.” the stupid wink he threw at you made your body shake in anger, already fed up with the conversation.

“you wish, asshole.”

“actually, i do.”

donghyuck was so fucking annoying, always teasing you and never leaving you alone. your personalities clashed constantly resulting in fights filled with screams and curses, sometimes to the extent of interrupting the class and getting the two of you kicked out of it. he enjoyed watching you struggle and suffer due to his awful pranks, so you were his favorite target. you couldn’t even have a proper date with anyone because he made sure to mess it up either by scaring the crap out of the guy or sabotaging your plans. he almost completely ruined your love life and cockblocked you forever.

you did not get along and everyone knew it.

although eunbin thought it was pure sexual tension and you just needed to get your frustrations off of you with a good fuck.

it wasn’t though.

or was it?

“let’s go hang out with the guys,” your best friend nudged your arm excitedly and you sighed, not feeling like playing anything with them. every time you decided to give in and take part in ‘something fun’ with the guys, it always ended up with you either in trouble or scarred for life.

you had a bad feeling about this all.

“ugh, fine.” she cheered and pulled you through the crowd of drunk people until you reached the basement.

the sound of laughter and screams drowned the music blasting upstairs, there were empty bottles of alcohol sprawled all over the floor and tables and a circle of people in the middle of the room. both of you joined the group with you sitting between eunbin and mark, a close friend of yours that you sadly shared with donghyuck. while you casually chatted and played around with the boy, happily laughing the night away, you could feel a pair of eyes burn holes into your skull. you didn’t have to look up to know who those eyes belonged to, as said person wasn’t even trying to dissimulate.

and by said person you meant donghyuck.

donghyuck hated the way you leaned on mark’s body, how you let his friend rest his head on top of yours and wrap his arm around your waist.

he was jealous, really jealous of your close friendship with the older boy.

mark and you had been friends for a long time now and you could even consider him your best friend, so you were comfortable around each other. you usually hugged, held hands and cuddled, he was used to you wearing his clothes –half of your closet were stolen hoodies that once belonged to him–, he even had a spare change of clothes in his room just in case you decided to drop by for an improvised sleepover. so it wasn’t surprising when sometimes when the two of you hung out on your own, people –even your friends in common– mistook you as a couple.

and the idea of you two dating made donghyuck feel sick to the stomach.

“we’re playing truth or dare, who wants to start?” seoyeon, one of your friends, spoke while looking around for someone to volunteer.

“i’ll go.” lucas raised his hand and everyone nodded, not minding.

the game went smoothly for a while and eventually, the more alcohol everybody drank, the crazier things got. mark ended up getting dared to lick whipped cream off of yuta’s chest and xiaojun had to cross-dress and dance on a table. everything was fine, you hadn’t been picked by anyone yet so you were pretty much having fun just enjoying the show.

until someone called your name.

“y/n, truth or dare?” jaehyun asked with a smirk.

he had an evil glint on his eyes making you feel suspicious. you knew you couldn’t choose truth or else everyone would make fun of you for being a pussy. and jaehyun just knew you well enough to know you weren’t going to let that happen.

you weren’t one to back down.

still, the way he stared at you made an uneasy feeling settle in your stomach.

what could he possibly have in mind?

“dare.”

seems like your gut feeling was right after all.

“give hyuck a lap dance,” jaehyun said immediately after the words left you mouth, making everyone in the room shake, some in excitement and some –you– in anger. donghyuck wasn’t expecting to take part in the dare, but he really wasn’t complaining either. “thank me later babe,” his shit-eating grin only adding fuel to the fire.

fuck.

just as eunbin, donghyuck could sense the sexual tension. and unlike you, he acknowledged it.

but for him it wasn’t just that.

you two had known each other –or at least acknowledged each other's existence– for a few years now, since high school. he was forced to see you almost every day at school, so, naturally, fondness for you started growing slowly in his chest. but it wasn’t until you both left for college that your ‘enemies’ label was established.

and if someone thought he may possibly like you, they were damn right.

he did.

it all started during freshman year, when he tried to befriend you during one of the classes you shared. you seemed irritated by his advances and wanted him away from you, so after a few attempts of softening your heart, he resolved that the only way to stay close to you was annoying the hell out of you.

childish? yeah. he cared? not really.

“come here, babe.” donghyuck tongued the inside of his cheek, a smirk forming on his lips. as he saw the grim look on your face, he sprawled his legs, patting his toned thigh invitingly, eager to get things started.

the look jaehyun gave you had ‘you’re not backing down, are you?’ written all over.

“shit, i hate jaehyun, why did he have to do me dirty like that?” you mumbled angrily to eunbin and she just laughed, finding the situation way funnier than you.

“maybe tonight won’t be as boring as you thought? maybe you’ll end up getting laid.” she wiggled her eyebrows suggestively and you only scoffed, “shut up, dumbass.”

“why did you have to do me like that, huh?!” you almost screamed at the older, taking a mental note to beat him up later. he just shrugged and threw you a wink, “asshole.”

mark patted your back to help you relax, he could see you weren’t exactly happy about your dare.

“come on, which song would you like, my lady?” lucas asked, scrolling through his spotify for suiting songs.

“or nah!” yangyang answered before you could even open your mouth. just as you were about to ask for a less sexual song, cheering erupted through the room.

everyone was pumped, adrenaline running through their veins and pushing them to do stupid stuff they would probably regret the next day after waking up hungover. and things just took a rather interesting turn, so they obviously were excitedly awaiting the next series of events.

yay, more stupid memories to regret later.

on the other hand, donghyuck was as doomed as you. he knew the song well, he knew the lyrics by heart but what he didn’t know was if he could control himself with you basically dry humping him in front of a bunch of people to the rhythm of it.

he wasn’t sure it was a great idea.

as soon as you got up to complete the dare, you heard cheering and clapping. and you weren’t going to lie, you wanted to throw yourself out of a window.

breathing deeply in an attempt of relaxing to just get it over with, you made your way towards donghyuck until you were standing a few feet in front of him.

as the music started playing, you started moving. running your finger on the surface of his clothed shoulder, you walked slowly around him, like a predator circling its prey. he tried not to follow your movements, already getting anxious by your closeness and nervously waiting for your next move.

i’ma smoke this joint then i’ma break you off.

i’d be lying if i said you ain’t the one.

you pushed his legs open and settled between them. your hands rubbed his thighs teasingly, fingers drawing closer to his crotch but not quite getting there. you took your sweet time feeling him up, softly scratching his strong arms and leaving red trails behind. donghyuck was so into it, enjoying the sight of you kneeling before him so much that his pants were already starting to feel tight.

heard you not the type that you take home to mom.

is we fuckin’ when we leave the club or nah?

i ain’t spendin’ cash for nothin’ i wanna see you take it off.

and oh how he wanted to see you take it off. all night he couldn’t take his eyes off of your figure, you looked really good in the outfit eunbin had chosen for you.

so good it was almost making him drool.

you sat on his lap, hands going to caress his toned chest and stomach. it was well-known that donghyuck exercised frequently, but it still surprised you. he felt so good you had to bite your lip to prevent a sound from coming out.

when you shifted to sit closer to him, his hands flew to your hips and you could tell his intention was to move them lower to grope your ass, but you weren’t having it.

do you like the way i flick my tongue or nah?

you can ride my face until you’re drippin’ cum.

“if you try to touch me again, i’ll tie you up,” you said with a sweet smile plastered on your face, grabbing him by the wrists and harshly dropping them away from you. donghyuck let out a startled gasp at that, obviously not expecting your attitude. with his hands twitching to grasp anything, he went to grip tightly the sides of the chair.

can you lick the tip then throat the dick or nah?

can you let me stretch that pussy out or nah?

your hips ground against his crotch at such a slow pace that donghyuck was having trouble not pushing you down on him faster. he was getting embarrassingly hornier as seconds passed and wanted nothing more than to fuck you right then and there, even with his friends’ eyes on you both.

donghyuck tried so hard to restrain himself from touching you. he wasn’t one to follow orders, but he tried just for you, he really did.

i’m not the type to call you back tomorrow.

but the way you wrappin’ ‘round me is a prob.

and everything was fine until you kissed him. synchronized gasps filled the room, the sudden show of affection confusing everybody. not even your intoxicated self could understand what the hell were you doing nor who you were doing it with. his breath got stuck in his throat, heart thumping against his chest at an alarming rate. his hands almost tried to bring you closer, but he realized what he was doing on time to stop himself.

he finally broke down when your mouth sucked on his tongue, making his hips grind up against yours unconsciously as his hands grabbed you by your waist, pressing your body flush against his.

that was it.

“you asked for it,” your movements came to a stop as you took off your black leather belt, sticking to your threat of tying him up if he didn’t quit it.

pussy so good, i had to save that shit for later.

took her to the kitchen, fucked her right there on the table.

“oh shit,” donghyuck stirred under you trying to get out of the situation.

this couldn’t be happening.

“no, please,” he whimpered as you fastened the belt until it was wrapped tightly around his wrists, locking his arms behind his back. your audience was unable to hold in their surprise, some mouths falling open. he fought against the restraints to no avail, desperate to free himself, “please, let me go,” he cried out quietly, not wanting the other occupants in the room to hear him.

“stop complaining or else i’ll also gag you,” you spat harshly in his ear, done with his attitude, and he swallowed hard. as you nibbled on his lobe, you felt a strong sense of confidence. it made your chest swell in pride to see the usual big mouth jerk with a smug grin constantly attached to his face falling apart under your touch.

seems like he was the one to beg, after all.

you moved your hips to the rhythm of the music, making sure to press harder against the sensitive tip of his cock, which was already leaking precum. although you weren’t an expert, you’d given a fair share of lap dances, so you knew what you were doing.

and donghyuck could certainly tell.

don’t play with a boss, girl take it off.

take it for a real one.

you gon’ get it all.

“whose bitch are you now, huh?” donghyuck couldn’t speak properly, way too hot and bothered for his brain to come up with any smart-ass response.

you tsked disapprovingly at his lack of response.

“when i ask you a question, you answer.” your fingers tangled in his hair and with a harsh tug you forced him to look up. donghyuck was dazed, lips swollen from you biting on them, eyes glassy from arousal, and mind clouded with lust.

“yours.” he whimpered quietly, forgetting momentarily about your audience.

“good boy.”

you loved how easy it was for you to break him and leave him wanting more, to have him so putty in your hands. specially since hearing comments of other female classmates about donghyuck teasing them almost till the brim of tears was part of your day-to-day life. it felt like you were getting revenge for all of them, so you were enjoying it a lot more than anyone could imagine.

your plump lips trailed down the length of his neck, leaving wet kisses along his honey-like skin, and he threw his head back to give you more access. as you licked, sucked and bit the flesh, donghyuck could hear his heartbeat loud over the music. he usually wouldn’t let a girl suck hickeys on his skin, but the idea of you marking him while everyone watched was rather exciting.

he swore the seconds passed slower than usual. you were just halfway through the song but he didn’t know if he could survive any longer.

donghyuck felt light-headed and painfully aroused, and he wasn’t going to last long if you kept kissing him and moving your hips the way you were.

“i’ma go as far as you let me,” your movements became slower to tease him, making the poor boy want to cry in agony. his jeans felt way too tight to be comfortable and he hoped everyone could just leave you two alone to take it off.

“shit, please,” donghyuck’s eyes closed, head falling forward and hanging low as drops of sweat slid down his forehead. the room felt like an oven and he didn’t know if it was a result of the significant amount of people in such a small space, the alcohol, his choice of clothing or your body pressed closely against his.

probably the latter.

girl, is you sucking me or fucking me or nah?

can i bring another bitch? let’s have a threesome.

“keep saying you’re a freak, you gon’ prove it or nah?” you quietly sang along, pulling his face closer by his hair and grinding down on him harder.

donghyuck was going crazy, he had never expected you to be so sexy, to behave so dirtily. but he loved it, and by the prominent tent in his pants, everybody could tell he was in for the ride of his life.

you’s a ride-or-die chick, you with this shit or nah?

say you not a side bitch, you all-in or nah?

you gon’ make them eggs cheesy with them grits or nah?

you brought him in for a hot kiss that left his head spinning.

donghyuck was growing restless as his climax neared, he was so close he could almost taste it. he couldn’t remember when the last time he got so close to cumming only from some teasing was.

everything was happening so quickly he wasn’t able to stop himself before giving in to the pleasure.

“h-holy fuck,” with a shaky moan that you swallowed, donghyuck shot his load, staining the crotch of his dark jeans. you could feel the wetness seeping through the piece of clothing and dampening your bottoms. his hips gave a few more sloppy thrusts, legs shaking weakly and cock twitching from the confines of his jeans, before falling limp on the chair.

or nah.

as the song ended, he came down from his high. you freed him from the iron grip of your belt, the skin on his wrists was red and slightly swollen. you may have tightened it too much in the heat of the moment, but you weren’t apologizing after giving him probably the best orgasm of his life.

the bewildered expression on his face quickly turned grim as it hit him.

he came in his pants like a fucking teenager.

in a room full of people.

in front of his friends, yours and you.

his friends stood there, both confused and surprised to see donghyuck so affected by your touch. nobody had expected things to end the way they did.

“damn, are you okay my man?” johnny asked, laughing at his friend’s flustered state.

“shut up,” donghyuck answered bitterly. he shot up from his seat, grabbing your hand and shoving you inside the nearest bathroom in the house. he didn’t even care to cover the wet spot on his pants, walking with his chin up and a scowl plastered on his face.

and blame it on how riled up you had gotten from the feeling of his hard dick pressing against your needy pussy, but damn, he looked good.

“i wanna go next!” hendery spoke excitedly. you couldn’t tell if he was just messing with you or if he actually wanted you to give him a lap dance too. either way, it made your lips turn upwards in a smug grin.

once you both made it to the bathroom, he locked the door before pushing you against it, back pressed flush into the hard piece of wood. the ambience took a 180 turn, your confidence faltered slightly at the sight of his angry form.

“you think it’s funny, yeah?” he hummed angrily in your ear. “you think i’d let you do whatever you want and embarrass me in front of my friends just because you feel like it without payback?” the look on his eyes getting darker as the words left his mouth.

“if so, oh baby, you were so wrong.”

trying to test him, you decided to answer.

“you’re all bark and no bite, what else am i supposed to think?” you smirked devilishly when you saw him clench his jaw.

“you’re gonna regret being a brat,” his slender fingers wrapped themselves around your waist and with a harsh tug, he pulled you closer to attack your lips, biting and sucking on them, making your legs wobbly. he tasted sweet and bitter at the same time, probably from the liquor he had been drinking all night, and you couldn’t seem to get enough. his lips were soft and plush as they mingled with yours, teeth roughly clashing and tongues fighting for dominance, “am i?”

donghyuck hissed through his teeth as he unbuckled his pants, letting his cum-covered shaft spring free. he was already hard and you unconsciously rubbed your thighs together to ease some of the tension building up between them. his hand shot to your throat, tightening his grip until you couldn’t breathe properly, before forcing you on your knees.

donghyuck tapped his hard and heavy cock on your lips a couple of times before speaking. “open up, slut,” and you did as you were told, parting your lips and poking your tongue out, waiting for him to slide in.

but he didn’t.

he wanted you to lick him clean, he wanted to see you do as he said, follow his orders like a good girl without complaints.

“clean the mess you’ve done. now.”

the harsh tone of his voice sent a wave of arousal straight to your core. your hands immediately shot up to grab a hold of his length, but before you got too close he stopped you. confusion was written all over your face and for a moment you worried he had changed his mind.

“no hands, i want you to work on it only with that dirty mouth of yours.”

with your hands gripping onto his thighs, your tongue swiped from the base to the head of his cock, eagerly licking him clean. once you had swallowed every drop of his cum, your mouth took him whole, hollowing your cheeks, one hand massaging his balls. donghyuck threw his head back as yours bobbed at a rapid pace, the tip of his cock reaching the back of your throat as you swallowed around him.

when he was about to cum, he pulled away from your mouth, making you whine at the loss. wrapping his hand once again around your throat like a beautiful necklace, he forced you up on your feet. he turned you around before pulling you closer by a rough tug. your clothed ass pressed against his dick, a mixture of his arousal and your saliva wetting the cloth. your hips ground back to both tease him, desperate to feel something, anything. his hands went to the front of your jeans, rubbing his fingers over your clothed clit and a whimper fell from your lips.

“more, i need more,” you pleaded, the barrier of clothes making the feeling less pleasurable.

he surprisingly complied without resistance, dipping the digits under the restricting cloth. a deep groan vibrated against the side of your neck when he felt the wetness that had been gathering inside your panties since your dare.

“look at you, so damn wet,” his mouth watered at the feeling of your needy heat. at this point, donghyuck knew everyone had an idea of what you two could possibly be doing, and although he would enjoy returning the favour by eating you out to his heart’s content, there wasn’t enough space nor time to do so comfortably. but he swore he would make it up to you some time.

“for who is it, baby?” the answer was obvious, but still, he wanted to hear it directly from you. he inserted one long finger until it was knuckles deep inside of you and you let out a squeak, head falling back onto his shoulder.

“for you donghyuck, all for you.”

“that’s right, slut, only i can make you that wet, only i can touch you like this. you’re mine, don’t forget that,” he inserted a second finger and pumped them deeply into you.

“yes,” you breathed out softly, too far gone to fight back with a snarky remark.

although his fingers felt good and you could possibly –with a bit of an effort– cum just from them, you still wanted more. you wanted to feel the nice stretch of his cock tearing your walls apart.

“please, donghyuck.”

“what do you want?”

donghyuck knew what you wanted. fuck, he wanted it too, so bad. he had been waiting for an opportunity like this for a long time and now that he could finally have it, he was going to make the best out of it.

“fuck me,” your core ached to be filled so you swallowed your pride and spoke out.

“condom?”

“we don’t need it, i’m on the pill,” you rushed, stomach twisting and turning in excitement, “please, just fuck me.”

donghyuck’s eyes turned darker, lust clouding both of your minds with the only desire to fuck each other stupid. he pulled down your jeans so they were pooling on your ankles and went back to pump his fingers inside you to make sure you were ready to take him. as he entered you, you had to lean on the sink in front of you to hold yourself up or else you would have faceplanted the mirror.

“you feel so good, fuck, so fucking tight,” donghyuck growled when he was balls deep in you.

whimpers fell from your lips from the delicious stretch of his thick cock. after a few seconds of you adjusting to his size, you backed your ass into his hips to let him know you wanted him to move. he gave a couple of thrusts to test the waters before picking up his pace and you gripped the sides of the sink as he pounded into you. his mouth worked on your neck while you brought one of his hands under your shirt to play with your breasts.

“such a pretty sight, don’t you think?” he tugged harshly at your hair to force you to look at your reflection on the mirror, thrusts never faltering.

your makeup was ruined; lipstick smeared messily all over your lips from the hot make-out session, neck full of bruises donghyuck left to claim you, shirt pulled above your breasts displaying your puckered nipples while one of his big hands grabbed your boob as they bounced with every hard snap of his hips.

“you have no idea how many times i had to control myself not to pounce on you,” his eyes never left your quivering reflection, completely in love with the way your frame molded with his, “every single time you couldn’t keep that pretty little mouth of yours closed and all i wanted to do was shut you up with my cock.”

“f-fuck,” his thrusts turned rougher as his free hand wrapped around your neck, tightening his grip and amplifying the mind-blowing sensations he was giving you.

your asscheeks slapped against his hips, which drilled against you at an unhuman pace, hitting the right spots with every snap and making your eyes roll to the back of your head. you couldn’t keep your mouth shut, loud moans threatening to fall from your lips so you slapped your palm over your mouth to muffle your sounds.

“don’t, i want to hear you,” he gave a particularly hard thrust to try and draw a sound out of you, “i want you to be so loud that all of our friends know what we’re doing, i want them to know how good i’m making you feel.”

specially mark.

but he wasn’t going to tell you that.

“h-hyuck,” you couldn’t hold back the broken moan that fell from your lips, pleasure overtaking your body. your hands gave in and you almost fell forward, but donghyuck reacted sooner and pulled you by your hair, holding you up.

“address me properly, brat,” he growled in your ear. you felt a hard slap on your ass, the skin of the abused area stinging from the impact.

“i’m sorry… fuck, donghyuck,” your cries went straight to his dick, urging him to fuck you harder. he kneaded the flesh soothingly before spanking it again and again until you could make out the imprint of his big hand on your asscheek.

“f-faster, please,” you pleaded in a whine and he tsked, shaking his head, “such a greedy little slut.”

“what would everyone think of you if they could see you so eagerly taking my cock, mm?” donghyuck hummed, “begging for me to fuck you until you can’t walk properly?

shocks of pleasure shot through you, his dirty talk helping you reach your release faster than you anticipated. his grip on you was so tight you were sure you were going to be sore the next day. your moans turned pornographic as you neared your release, your walls squeezed around donghyuck to the point he was unable to move, so he started drawing circles over your sensitive clit to help you get off.

“let go, baby.”

and soon, his touch threw you over the edge, causing your body to shake and a broken moan to fall from your lips, legs weak as your whole weight only relied on your arms for support. he followed shortly after, grunting as he filled you up with his warm and sticky essence.

as he pulled out, a mixture of your slick juices and his seed leaked from your abused hole, dripping down your inner thighs. his fingers slid over to gather the drops of cum and opposite to your assumption, he didn’t push it back inside of you but brought the digits to your face, waiting for you to open your mouth.

“suck.”

and you did, eyes locked with his through the mirror as your tongue swirled around his fingers to lick them clean.

“fuck,” donghyuck sighed, “i didn’t know you were so dirty, sweetheart.”

and the teasing comes back.

“do you want me to remind you how i made you cum in your pants back there in a room full of people?” you rolled your eyes in disbelief and he just let out a breathy laugh.

“whatever. either way, even if they didn’t have the pleasure of fucking you or at least seeing you get fucked, they surely could hear you from how loud you were screaming my name.”

“good thing mark now knows who you belong to,” the words slipped out of his mouth before he could think and both of you shared a look of pure shock.

“did you just mention mark?”

“…no?”

“you did! what the fuck? were you jealous of mark?” you asked, eyes wide as you remembered the disgusted look on his face when you and mark got too touchy with each other during the game.

“i am jealous of mark.”

“what? why?”

“oh my god, you’re so dense.”

“shut up, i’m not.”

“yes, you are. i like you dumbass, that’s fucking why. why wouldn’t i be jealous if you two act like you’re dating but always deny it when questioned? i can give you my hoodies, i can cuddle you and hold your hand, i can spoil you with cute stuff. i can be your boyfriend, it doesn’t have to be him.”

everything was so weird.

you were supposed to be enemies for fucks sake.

but he looked cute with pouty lips.

“well, you sure have got a damn weird way of demonstrating it.”

“shut up, okay?” donghyuck snapped, done with trying to get you to shut the fuck up. “i just didn’t know how to approach you or talk to you at all, alright?” he sighed, a scowl forming on his face. “you always seem to be angry when i’m around.” the change in his voice shocked you, it was much softer now, as if he was afraid of you hearing it.

“hey, don’t beat yourself for it, alright?” you sighed, feeling bad for being so mean to him for no reason. because you really didn’t have a reason. whenever you weren’t at each other’s throats and you got time to observe him from afar, you saw how caring he was with his friends, even if most of the time he annoyed the crap out of them.

donghyuck actually seemed like a good guy… if you ignored his teasing.

maybe you didn’t hate him as much as you thought.

“so, would you be my-,”

suddenly, the sound of banging on the door resonated through the room.

“are you done already? i need to pee.”

you quickly fixed your clothes, embarrassed by the presence of someone outside the door waiting for you and donghyuck to get out and momentarily forgetting about the boy’s proposal. just as you were about to open the door and get yourself the fuck out of the situation, his arms wrapped around your waist to pull you closer and whisper to your ear in a way you could feel your panties get damp once again.

“we’re not done yet, princess.”

–lia:)

#nctcreations #neosmutcollective #lee donghyuck #donghyuck fic #donghyuck #haechan #lee haechan #nct x reader #nct scenarios #nct 127 #nct smut #nct imagines #nct u x reader #nct u smut #nct u #nct dream #nct dream donghyuck #nct dream haechan #donghyuck smut #haechan smut

[notlycheesden]

Rearview Mirror

Heyyo ✌🏻 this is my first written piece for Endeavor , as a gift for my friend @kogo for the evil exchange. so I hope you like it my dude 👍🏻. A piece I will def be coming back to write more for sure.

⤍ Endeavour x reader

⤍ 3.6k

⤍ TW.incest, TW.dubcon, TW.father/daughter

⤍ Summary:

Enji was trying to be a better father, a better man.

And you never lied to him.

Guess it was a time for a lot of firsts.

Everything was always red between the both of you.

It's past four when his phone rings.

He was awake. even on his day off -those becoming more frequent now- years of routine were still strong. His body alert and aware way before the break of dawn for hours of training before patrol, and later to go to his own agency, the literal empire that wouldn't run itself.

He was pretending to be asleep, unmovable laying on his stomach, face buried on his pillow. Deep breaths in and out in a rhythmic pattern. His massive frame takes most of his king-size bed that for more than a decade he slept right in the middle, no reason to let the right side of it unoccupied.

It was almost meditation-like. There in the quiet and calm of his bedroom between his sheets, he could organize -or at least try- his thoughts. A time in his day where he gets lost in self-reflection. The things he would have to do that day, what work in his agency he would have to supervise, and even stubbornly he would do a little steaming out, analyzing his “actions and emotions”, passing commentary from the resident agency therapist threw his way.

“A strict but good man, if not for some, mishaps, from your intense and fiery nature.” was his professional opinion about Endeavor. The man really lived to throw things his way.

It used to help calm his turbulent mind. But lately there was nothing in his head but turmoil.

It was something he would do until 6 AM, when he couldn't take any longer and had to get up, body and muscles aching from staying in bed for too long, the sun already rising on the horizon, painting the sky with yellows, pinks, and reds.

The silence of his room is broken by the ring of his phone. Instead of the familiar tone of the morning alarm, it was his normal ringtone. When he opens his eyes, the room was not bright as he expects, still shrouded by darkness. Endeavor sits on his bed at once, alert.

Getting it from the bedside table quickly, his posture falls when he catches the time and the already saved contact of who was calling him: Natsuo.

Enji picks up, but before he could question the call, the time, or even say hello, Natsuo speaks, voice grave and serious.

“You need to pick up your daughter right now.”

It’s a punch to the gut. One that makes all the air from his lungs escape at once. In a second, he feels like he is thrown into a rollercoaster.

The only thing he can muster in his shock is a guttural and deep bark of incredulity “What?”

Natsuo cuts Enji off immediately. His tone triggering him into snapping, memories hushing in -not the time for this- “She just called. She was a crying mess, begged me to come for her but I live two hours away-Shouto is on patrol and not picking up and Fuyumi is with her fiance's family at the onsen-”

Enji inhales sharply. Dread takes hold of him while he can't even see straight with the sudden rush of adrenaline, sirens blasting off in his head.

“She was supposed to be with fuyumi at the onsen.” His voice echoes back at him in his bedroom walls, he doesn't realize he is shouting.

“Look, this is really not the time. She has no money and her phone’s dead. I was able to get her to tell me an address before the call dropped. she's all alone there. Are you gonna pick her up?”

Natsuo calms his own breaths now after snapping and shouting back, and he can hear shuffling noises on his father’s side of the line. The older man was up in a second, not really seeing anything, rushing through his stuff picking his keys and wallet. He hates the way his father could make him snap so easily.

Enji was completely distraught.“She said she was going to be with fuyumi…” He mutters under his breath while running through the corridors, even forgetting the phone by his ear, his son still on the line.

But Natsuo hates even more the blatant difference in the way his father treated all of them and you in comparison. Always. Like he could fix his mistakes. Hide his sins.

“Well. Think your little princess lied to you old man.”

Enji didn't even register the venom in his son's words, nor when he hangs up on him.

He’s out of the house in a blink. He tries not to rip the door out of its hinges on his way out.

——

He drives fast, almost no other car in the streets making it easier to speed up in his nervous state. The GPS voice droning about the directions, a forty-minute drive that he would make in twenty.

you said you were going to spend the weekend with your sister.

You lied to him.

Enji’s heart hammers in his chest and his flames burst multiple times on his face out of control. His grip on the wheel tightens to ground his shaking hands, his jaw set with such force that he could feel a headache already forming.

Thoughts were flying through his mind a mile a second. Where are you? What happened to you? Who were you with? Were you safe? Why were you crying?

Why did you lie to him?

It was like his heart was being squeezed by dread and being broken at the same time.

You were his youngest. After he realized what he did to his children as a father, he tried his best to do better; connect, communicate, but he was emotionally and socially stunted -Thanks doc.- and by the time he tried to reach out, it was just a little too late.

Fuyumi was the pillar of the household, replacing their mother too much young and having to fit in a mould not meant to be hers, barely holding the treads of the family and house together. Natsuo was out of the front door as soon as he finished high school and got into med school, choosing to live in the dorms and work part-time rather than stay at the manor. Shoto was another history in itself.

And there was you, a couple of years younger than your now up-in-the-ranks pro hero brother, at the time just a pipsqueak. Too young to remember Rei, remember the worst of Endeavor.

And when he tried to connect, you were there. As if just waiting. Wanting your father to look at you. Frail and innocent and just in want of care, of attention, of love. You welcomed him into your life with open arms and heart.

Enji did try to make it right by you. And for some time things were progressing, even his other children were starting to turn their heads around his direction.

Until Touya’s incident.

The media cracked down on him and his family with a vengeance, almost nothing was left unturned or whole.

Natsuo was the first to cut ties. Shouto threw himself into his hero work, completely closing himself off. Even Fuyumi decided that she was done, took the next step, and went to live with her now fiance, completely ignoring whatever Enji tried to shout about costumes or honor.

Then it was just the two of you.

He tried to be a good father.

He was a quiet man in his private life, strict and with a violent nature, but he reached out for outside help to make it right. An older and trustworthy housekeeper to not chain his daughter down at the manor, guidance from therapist to help him become a better father, a better man, anything to do right this time.

Call it atonement, call it his redemption, call it hypocrisy, he didn't care.

He only cares that at the end of the day, you were there at his side, happy.

This morning he saw the note on the fridge.

Going to onee-san family trip,

Be back on Sunday.

You never had lied to him before.

Guess it was a time for a lot of firsts.

——-

The music blasting through the night tipped him off even before his car's GPS tells him he arrived at the destined location.

He parks way down the street and assesses the place inside the darkness of his car.

Enji’s way out of the city now and inside the industrial district, the building seems old and falling to pieces, people are lingering all around the street, but it’s thicker there. At surface level the building was empty, but the music was definitely coming from there.

He dreads the worst.

Getting out of the car still in his sleeping sweatpants and tee, he throws the hood of his workout jacket over his hair to conceal himself. He’s going for discretion, get you and get out, no need to make this a public affair. Not with this, not with you, not right now.

He searches around but still can't find you. Half an hour has passed since Natsuo called. He's in a frenzy. Endeavor forces himself to calm down and think.

His son didn't mention music. He looks far into the street and he can see the entrance of an alleyway, he hushes there.

His stomach tied in knots when he sees in the dark your small figure crouched down beside a dumpster. your shoulders ate shaking with silent sobs holding your dead phone for dear life, trying to make yourself smaller than you already were, head down.

Enji barks your name and your head snaps to the entrance of the alleyway in shock, your body trembling and fat tears running down your smudged makeup.

“Daddy!”

In a second you were up and running, throwing your body against him and hugging his middle. He doesn't know what to do first, but he opts for following his instincts. Enji hugs your shaking form, shushing you lightly while petting your head. He doesn't know if it's him or you who's shaking more.

He doesn't remember how, but he manages to walk both of you to his car without being seen, his hulking form covering your smaller one.

He's shaking. When Enji puts you in the passenger seat and the car lights momentarily shine everything in an amber glow, rage fills his chest. You are in a dress he has never seen before, he knows it was not yours. He would never allow a thing like that or let you use it in public. Your makeup that before being ruined by your smudging and crying, was heavy and meant to seduce.

He closes your door and gets in the car.

He's shaking.

——

Enji can only control himself enough to not rip the wheel or step on the gas right through the flooring for only three blocks. and thank the gods again for the hour, because he could not quite see the streets in front of him. If they weren't deserted while he drives double the velocity permitted, it would be likely that the fears of his family being again under the cruel and ravenous judgment of the public eye would become reality, although for a completely different reason from the ones he has been dreading until this point.

When he reaches the fourth block, he makes a sudden stop, turning and parking harshly with the front of the car almost all the way over the curb, the tires skidding loudly into the quiet of the night and scaring you out of your still shell shock state. your small sniffles stop when you let out a muted yelp of surprise.

Enji quickly pries his hands that have a death grip on the wheel and smash the roof of the car to turn the lights on in such a way that later he’s impressed he didn't send the entire ceiling flying. As fast as he did that and the darkness of the car is now cast in warm gold, his hands are on your small frame like a striking snake, a big calloused one gripping your face between meaty fingers, squeezing your wet cheeks and the other one in your far shoulder, turning you in his direction with a barely controlled yank. Enji wasn't sure if the shaking was coming from your body or his.

He's frantic, hectic, eyes going up and down your body trying to find anything, something. “Are you hurt? tell me,” His voice is harsh, too loud into the small space. You jump startled, but his grip locks you in place, he doesn't notice.

Why did you come to a party? Why are you dressed like this? Why did you do this?

“Are you?? Someone did something? Gave you something, touched you?” He barks again louder, bending and twisting to be in your face now, eyes scanning all over your body. But again and again, they would be drawn to the too short hem of your dress, from your ruined tearstained makeup and down again to your soft and creamy thighs, trying to find a mark, a scratch, a stain. Anything, something.

“Fucking answer me!”

“Dad please!”

Enji lets you go as if you just slap him in the face. He blinks.

You are shaking. Looking at him in fear, silent tears running down your cheeks. Your jaw is set as you try to hold your whimpers back, his fingers make red marks bloom on your face and arm under his digits.

Memories come back rushing. Phantoms scourging in blue flames.

He releases you as if you burn him.

His hands hover in place, and he doesn't dare to move, still crowding you. Both of you staring at each other in fear and confusion as if something would break.

He slowly backs away, and you keep still. He turns the light off and stares at the road.

Enji couldn't take more things between both of you breaking.

He takes a deep breath. Starts the car again to drive back home.

——

Friday nights are your nights.

Enji doesn't really remember when it started. But he knows it wasn't something that was spoken of or agreed beforehand. It happened once, then twice, then his job got in the way, then thrice, and when he noticed, it was a routine between him and his daughter.

Like most things between both of you, it just… fell into place. And it just felt right.

Endeavor would arrange his schedule in a way so that his Fridays would be empty, any emergency at the agency could be easily solved that way, patrols and hero work set on the weekends so he could come home at a sensible hour, just by dinnertime.

He would be just taking his blazer and shoes off at the entrance when Enji would hear your running steps from the kitchen, your pinky apron-clad figure hushing to meet him with a bright smile, eyes shining.

you would get a hold of his tie and gently tug down for him to bend at the waist to your level, your arms were thrown in a warm hug on his neck and a sweet and lengthy kiss on his cheek after he steps through the threshold. you would giggle against his face from the tickles you got from his stubble while warmly welcoming him, the food still hot on the table.

It was one of your multiple habits together, just the two of you. And it felt right.

It was routine. And it felt so domestic, warm and right.

Friday nights are your nights. After he gets home, you guys have dinner, something you cooked by yourself, sending the older housemaid away earlier.

Sometimes it is a new recipe, sometimes something you already tried before. But it's always good, and when Enji compliments your cooking skills and how much he enjoys it, your cheeks blush red. You daintly try to hide your smile as you thank him, bashful behavior so alluring even when he knows is just a little act, playing coy. There's warmth in his chest.

The lights in the dining room cast everything in this whimsical warm glow and maybe it's the beer, but Enji thinks it reflects lovely on you and the color of your blouse today. He says so.

“Looking so pretty tonight, princess.”

The red on your cheeks grow stronger. From across the table, he hides his smirk behind his can at seeing how you fidget in place, trying to contain your coquettish smile while biting your plush bottom lip. The warmth spreads lower.

Only later it dawns on him. Enji was flirting with his own daughter. And it was a habit.

It was routine.

Enji is sprawled on the big sofa comfortably, already showered and in his sleeping clothes after dinner, the second movie of the night halfway through.

It was a period drama and he tries to pay attention to the main points for your quiz about it the next day, but he was mostly checked out, lulled by the comfy dark of the living room, the buzz of the beers he drank, sleep and your warm body draped over his.

He doesn't really remember when it started, but he knows it was gradually. One day in your Friday movie nights, he notices you were glued on his side, and on the next one you had an arm draped over his torso while both of you were laying on the reclining couch, and since then, you were always over him, arms and thighs and breasts glued to his body, but most of the time cutely laying on his chest.

That night was no different. You are laying on his broad chest, using your arm as leverage to look down and back at the tv in front of the sofa, and for you to not slip he has one big palm over your waist and the other in a secure hook on the slope of your knee, propping your bent leg higher across his stomach. Your breathing matches his, and if not by your little grunts and noises of surprise, the redhead would have thought you had fallen asleep on him. It would not be the first time.

The clothes you are using are small and had hiked up a long time ago, a loose tank top and booty shorts, both of them old and worn out, sleep clothes.

From where he was, he could see all your body over his. From the crown of your head to the slope of your waist as it dipped under his scarred hand. His gaze follows the curve of your thigh draped over his waist to the fat of your ass pointing high. He muses in a daze that he could see the inside of your tank top, the soft swell of a breast making an appearance. He leers.

You move a little, and this time, he can make out the shade of a nipple. It’s pert and small and pretty, and blood rushes to his clothed cock, but is late, and he's tired and buzzed out. It doesn’t connect in his mind.

You move. you are getting yourself higher on his chest. Enji feels small hands wandering under his shirt. Presses of lips on his neck. Wet kisses on the stubble on his jaw.

The soft touches pull him deeper. There's a young and wanton body over his. It’s been so long since he truly touched another, let himself be touched. Smooth lips and an uncertain tongue were kissing him, and he wants to devour them. It’s hot and burns and makes his insides coil, his cock hard and heavy inside his pants. A warm slit humping it.

Could have been the tiredness, the beer, the comfort of the situation, anything really.

Enji kisses you like a man starved. Head moving and ravaging your much smaller mouth with his tongue. His hand yanks your tank top down exposing your breasts, and now he’s pulling and pinching the sweet nipples in a way that makes you moan against his tongue with a voice he couldn't recognize.

His other hand was down at your ass, guiding your movements back and forth on his erection with vigor, the friction against your slit makes you weak, but he keeps you moving, his calloused hand encompassing most of your behind. At each needy thrust his fingers would slide down between the cleft of your ass more and more.

His meaty fingers push the bottons of your shorts aside with a flick of his wrist, and now he's touching directly your puffy lips that are messy and wet all over. Enji growls in your mouth as you moan louder when he starts playing with your pussy, a pitched whine as he flicks your clit up and down, a strong hold on your breast.

A loud bang from the TV is what snaps him back to reality.

It was his daughter.

His daughter was over him. It was his daughter that was humping his cock, that he was sucking her small tongue and tweaking her nipples until he made her squeal.

He jumps to his feet and throws you across the couch.

Different from him, you look wide awake. Flushed face and startled eyes stares up at him, exposed breasts still heaving. Nipples rosy and hard. Between your legs, a glistening trail of where his fingers dragged when he ripped them off of you. Your shorts are drenched.

There's a moment of silence.

Enji snaps. He sprints to his bedroom, leaving you alone in the living room.

He locks his door, drops to the floor, and whips his hard and heavy cock out. in three pumps, thick ropes of cum cover his hand and clothed middle.

Taking big gulps of air trying to calm his breathing, his eyes glancing everywhere in a panic state, he looks down, and spot the wet patch on his clothed thigh. Yours juices that leaked on him. Its still in his other hand, fingers wet.

Enji wants to cry.

He tried to be a good father.

He ruined it again.

#endeavor x reader #Enji Todoroki #Endeavor #Enji todoroki x reader