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bangtaninborderland · 9 months

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THE GENTLEMEN DAY THIRTY-EIGHT

Genre: f!reader x bts, smut | 18+ | 12.9k words

Warning: smut, pegging, threesome, oral sex, cockwarming, dom/sub scenes, fighting, mxmxf, orgy (kind of) lots of angst

A/N: this is my longest ever chapter for anything and I’m super nervous about it because I’ve never write from one of the members povs in a story, I feel like I messed up and I’m really sorry if this wasn’t up to your standards. I’ll keep working hard to write something you can enjoy. Also I’d like to credit @jhobiwan for some amazing prompt ideas, I wonder if you can guess what one I’ve used here? Also a massive dedication to @chasing-dreamers for being such an amazing reader. 💜

P.S confessionals are open!

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Yoongi watched Jimin for a while, always being the first awake had its perks. Like the first shower, the quietness but his favourite part was the way he could watch those he loved without them knowing, much like now with a grin across his lips he places a kiss on Jimins forehead. Covering the other with the sheet before slipping out of the bed.

He preferred his showers alone, the water hitting the floor, the steam fogging the room, it was like having a mental break. A moment where worries didn’t exist yet despite that he never dragged them out, wanting to be as efficient as possible.

He doesn’t spend an awful lot of time looking in the mirror, still, he admired the way the bright mint green of his hair had faded into a lighter shade. He had to give Jin his props, he loved it.

As usual, he chose comfort over fashion, pulling on a pair of loose black pants and a black long-sleeve shirt, only deciding to put socks on when he felt a coldness around his legs.

He threw his dirty clothes in the laundry, making his way to the kitchen. What was usually a silent room at this time was clearly occupied, the unmistakable sound of hushed moans filling the space. He peered around the corner, mouth watering at the sight.

Namjoon had Jungkook against the wall, holding the younger up as he fucked into him. Jungkook had his head against the other's shoulder, occasionally lifting his head to peck a kiss to namjoons neck. He holds back a snort at the way their pants are halfway down their legs, although desperate times call for desperate measures.

Yoongi jumps as an arm pulls him from his trance, Jin's soft hands around his waist. “he’s beautiful isn’t he?”

“Yeah, Hyung” The doctor swallowed hard.

“How do you feel watching our baby get fucked?.” The sound of Seokjins gravelly voice sent a shiver down his spine. “Keep watching him.”

“It - good.” Yoongi summarised, his voice no more than a whisper. “I want to take him apart.”

“H-Hyung.” Jungkook interrupted with a moan, his head thrown back against the wall. “G-gonna cum.”

Seokjin hand came down to rub Yoongis cock through his pants. “Look at you already getting hard. I want to watch you ruin Jungkook and then I want to ruin you.”

“You couldn’t ruin me Hyung, I’d have you bent over moaning long before that.” Yoongi shoved back, forcing seokjin to hit the wall.

Jungkooks eyes flickered over to them, Namjoon still oblivious. The younger doesn’t say anything, too lost in his own pleasure.

Yoongi loved the way Seokjin felt underneath him, there was a thrill in having someone bigger than you beneath you, bending to your every will. He felt a little high on the power he had with seokjin pinned against the wall. “If you want it rough baby all you gotta do is ask.”

Yoongi snorted, shaking his head as he leaned down for a kiss before taking seokjins bottom lip onto his mouth, sucking and biting it before releasing him. “Fuck your lips are so perfect.”

“Behave and Hyung will show you how perfect they look wrapped about your cock.” Seokjin spun them around, Yoongi against the wall. Yoongi noticed Jungkooks focus on them again, this time Namjoon looking too, the maknaes whines sounding so beautiful as Namjoon fucked into him again.

“If anyone needs to behave it’s you.” Seokjin grinned at that, his hand tugging on yoongis locks as he littered kisses down his throat.

Their movements paused to watch as Jungkook let out a series of broken moans, the boy truly looked beautiful when he orgasmed. Yoongi noted Namjoons thrusts coming to a stop as he held Jungkook against the wall.

“Hyungs watched.” Jungkook was breathless, Namjoon lazily looked over his shoulder. Smiling at Yoongi before winking at Seokjin.

Anyone in the house could see Namjoon slowly growing more confident, the shy demeanour he wore slipping day by day. Yoongi was rather proud.

“We did and it was delicious but let’s all get cleaned up now.” Seokjin gave Yoongi another peck before moving away.

“Hey!” Yoongi shouted, pulling Seokjin back. “You said you’d show me how pretty you looked sucking my dick!”

“Sounds a bit desperate if you ask me.” Hoseok called out from the other room.

“Shut the fuck up.” Yoongi shouted back, officially pouting.

Seokjin pulled him in for a hug, laughing lightly before releasing him. “Im going to shower soon.”

Yoongi nods, watching as YN walks into the room, Jimins hand in hers. He smiled to himself, everyone was becoming so much more intimate. “Hyung how come they get to fuck in the kitchen but when we do it you call us untrained animals.”

Yoongi laughed at that, eyeing YN, an unspoken memory clearly at the forefront of both your thoughts.

“Maybe I just wanted to enjoy the sight today.” Seokjin mumbles, flicking on the coffee machine.

Jimin rolled his eyes, and Yoongi stifled a laugh knowing the younger would argue futilely. “Yeah sure, like it’s not a good view to see YN spread out on the table like a fucking meal.”

“Actually, I have to argue, she looks rather good spread out on the counter.” Yoongi teased, he loved how red you got any time someone would bring up sexcapade. “I’ll cook breakfast today.” He decided, ignoring the scowl Jimin wore.

“I’ll shower now then.” Seokjin slipped from the room.

“We are gonna cl- we - we will be right back.” Namjoon guides Jungkook out of the room by his hand.

Despite his growing confidence Namjoon was still the most reserved in the house although no one actually seemed to mind, in fact the fond smiles everyone else wore as the pair walked up the stairs were similar to his own.

Besides, Yoongi thought to himself, he was a dignified man who could admit that Namjoon was both sexy, smart and warm-hearted.

“So what’s for breakfast Yoongs.” Yoongi smiled as YN walked to him, her arms wrapping around him. He loved the way her body fit into his as though it belongs there.

He kissed YNs forehead before releasing her from his hold on her, unable to stop a smile at the little pout she wore from it. “Whatever you want baby.”

“I want something sweet.” She smiled. “Pancakes.”

Yoongi chuckled. “Pancakes it is then baby.”

“Kiss?” YN whispered it was always adorable to him whenever you asked. Without a response, he leant down, hand on the side of her face as he kissed her. The kiss the both of you shared always had been like a breath of fresh air, a way to silence the storm in his mind. Yoongi pulled back eventually when the need to breathe became too much.

Jimin let out a low whistle, winking as Yoongi rolled his eyes and YN blushed.

“Nice also I don’t want pancakes.” Taehyung mumbled, Yoongi looked over to the younger, noticing immediately how sad he looked. “I want ramen.”

“I can make you some Tae.” Yoongi agreed, not liking the frown on Taehyungs face.

“What’s wrong?” YN asked, moving away from Yoongi to hug the other.

“Dunno.” He sighed, slumping down on a chair.

YN sat on his left, Jimin immediately rushing to his right. Looking at them from this angle Yoongi could see there was something different about them, the way Jimins playful mood was gone the second Taehyung seemed upset.

He guessed it was the same for himself, Seokjin and Jungkook though. Despite the group relationship you all shared each of you often filtered off into groups, Namjoon and Hoseok being close, himself, Jungkook and Jin and finally taehyung Jimin and YN, although YN was very much equally close with everyone. as someone who listens and observes he had noticed it, and confirmed his thoughts with seokjin during their early morning coffee one day. The other believed that it would change, that the longer the show went on feelings would develop and although there would always be house members that some gravitated towards more, they would all be a unit.

Yoongi could see that, in the way the jokes made bounced off one another, in the way comfort comes in abundance, and in the way no one is ever closed off from talking, listening and supporting. “Hyung?”

Yoongi was pulled from his thoughts as Jimin rested his chin upon his shoulder, his hands around his waist. “You okay?”

“I’m fine.” Yoongi nodded. “I need to start breakfast.”

“Do you need any help?” Jimin offered with a meek smile.

Yoongi shook his head, squeezing Jimins hand. “No, what’s up with Tae?”

“He’s sad about the rules being reinforced today. Think we all are.” Jimin sighed, closing his eyes as he rested his head against Yoongi.

“What if we just run away.” Yoongi laughed. Mixing some eggs into the pancake mix. “Fuck the show”

“Wish we could… dunno about you Hyung but I need the money.” Jimin snorts, releasing Yoongi with a pat on his back.

“Can't believe I’m playing best cock wins with you.” Yoongi laughed. Pouring the batter into a pan.

“Ah Hyung, you should be flattered to be against such a professional.” Jimin smirked, slapping the elders’ ass. “I’m going to give my babies some cuddles. Call me if you need help.”

“Yeah yeah, get out of my kitchen.” Yoongi huffed, the action purely a way to mask his own smile.

It didn’t take long for Yoongi to finish making breakfast, the heap of pancakes along with a pot of ramen for Taehyung and whoever else wanted it. Seokjin had come down just in time to help him set up the table, everyone flocking into the room as though the food had beckoned them.

“Well …” seokjin sighs. “this feels like the last supper.”

Everyone looked towards him, Yoongi felt YNs hand brush against his, with her on the left and Seokjin on the right he had a clear view of Namjoon at the head of the table with Taehyung, Jimin and Hoseok on the other side. Yoongi masked the surprise he felt at the former choosing to sit beside one another.

Taehyung was still looking down, as was Jungkook and if Yoongi didn’t know Seokjin as well as he did he would think the psychologist was happy. Yoongi didn’t bring attention to it, focusing on the pancakes on his plate instead.

It was YN who finally broke the melancholy silence surrounding the table. “This won’t do. I will not let you all be sad about the rules being reinforced. We have two weeks left and then it’s over. We have lasted up until now besides we still have just under three hours.”

Yoongi turned his head to watch her, she was a ball of determination. He truly loved that about her.

“I know but it’s hard for us, knowing we can’t show you how we feel, seeing you all the time and you being just out of reach….it wasn’t supposed to be this hard.”Taehyung slouches back, digging his fork into his pancakes.

“We wasn’t supposed to fall in love that’s why, but we did and now we have two weeks to get through. It hurts me just as much Tae, I hate seeing you laugh and smile and kiss each other when I can’t do the same but unfortunately, this is the best we can do for now. I love you regardless if we kiss or have sex.”

“It’s just two weeks. We’ve done longer up to now.” Seokjin supplied. “Let’s not end this experience with a negative outlook, I think if anything the past day with no rules has brought us all closer.”

“I agree.” Namjoon nodded. “It feels like we’ve all fallen into synch with one another.”

“Then let’s keep that going.” YN smiled. “It’s only two weeks.”

“Only two weeks.” Everyone agreed. The sour mood slowly picked up.

“Oh Hyung thank you for breakfast.” Jungkook perked up, shoving another heap of ramen into his mouth. “And the pancakes.”

“I’ll make coffee after.” Hoseok offered. “If anyone wants it?”

“That would be good, I feel tired today.” YN voices.

Yoongi turns to look at her, she even looked tired. “Didn’t you sleep well?”

“I did I guess it’s just been an emotional whirlwind the past few days.” She smiled weakly but Yoongis watched her enough to know it was fake.

Something was definitely bothering her, he wanted to ask then and there but didn’t, later, he promised himself. “Okay. Try and sleep earlier tonight. I’m sure Taehyung won’t mind giving you a massage.”

“My services are always open for you.” Taehyung winked across the table, evoking a blush out of YN.

“Okay.” Seokjin drops his tissue, hand hitting the table just enough to make a small thump. “I know I said I didn’t mind watching today but if you start any more horny shenanigans at my table over the food Yoongi cooked I will personally see to it that none of you orgasm for a week.”

“At least fuck YN first.” Jungkook teased, hiding his laugh by taking a sip of water.

Seokjin smiles at him, bringing a hand to rest upon his shoulder. “And for that, you can do the dishes.”

“What that’s not fair?!” Jungkook exclaimed. “Jimin Hyung fucked Taehyung in here before, make them do it.”

The table turned to stare at the pair, Taehyung shrugged looking down, Jimin as shameless as ever glared at Jungkook “Oh you’re definitely getting it you little brat! That was supposed to be a secret.”

“Enough!” Seokjin demanded, jokingly. “Jungkook can do dishes today and you two..” Seokjin points between Taehyung and Jimin “can do it for the next two days.”

“So unfair.” Taehyung pouts. “What if I told Jin hyung the time you co-“

Before Taehyung could finish his sentence Jungkook was chasing Taehyung out of the room, laughter filling the house.

“Someone should go after them.” YN chokes out , tears of laughter brimming in her eyes.

“I’ll go.” Namjoon stands.

“Actually…same here” YN smiles at Yoongi. “Coming?”

“Sure I guess.”

“I better go. God knows what you’ll all get up to?”

Seokjin turns to Jimin and Hoseok. “You coming?”

They share a look before shaking their heads. “No Hyung go ahead, have fun.” Hoseok winked.

The three of them walked together, eventually finding Namjoon pinning Jungkook down on the bed. Taehyung sitting in a chair across the room.

Yoongi noticed the way Taehyungs energy had changed from playful to powerful, the darkness in the other's eyes sent a shot of want straight to his dick. He watched as YN went straight to the bed. Seokjin and Him squishing onto the only spare chair left.

“What’s going on here then?” Seokjin asks.

“Jungkooks a brat.” Namjoon declared.

Yoongi grinned at that, not because it was funny but because it was the truth. “Maybe we should teach him a lesson then.”

“It’s been a while since I’ve seen you begging baby, I miss the sight.” Seokjins voice drops lower as he speaks, Yoongi leaning into his hyungs touch as he massages Yoongis neck.

Jungkook whines. “Get off me.”

“What’s your colour kookie?” YN asked lightly, despite the fact Namjoon was entirely on top of Jungkook, both of his hands holding the other down by his wrists Yn had placed herself above his head, stroking his hair. “Tell me.”

He huffed pushing again Namjoon once again. “Green.”

“I think he just wants to be thrown around,” Taehyung spoke for the first time, everyone looking over at him.

“I agree, Jungkook you did tell a secret. I think you should make it up to Taehyung.” Seokjin suggests, hand dropping lower on Yoongis's back. “Why don’t you let Taehyung be in control today? Be a good boy and show him you can behave.”

Taehyung perks up at that, seemingly interested. He looks at Namjoon before asking him “What do you think?”

“I-er” he stutters, looking at YN who just gives him a reassuring smile. “Sure.”

“You don’t have to do this, I’d enjoy watching you out Jungkook in his place.” Taehyung reassures, not wanting the other to feel pressured.

“No, let’s do this. Tell me what you want.” Namjoon smiles, this time with a sense of sureness to it.

“I want you to kiss YN. Don’t move, just kiss like that.”

“Hyung.” Jungkook whines, clearly unhappy about being left out of the equation.

“The more you talk the less you get Jungkook.” Taehyung says firmly. “Namjoon.”

At that Namjoon leans over, taking YNs lips in his, she pushes into him, hands coming to grip his shirt.

Taehyung watches for a few seconds, everything else around them disappearing. “Jungkook how do you feel about being pegged today?”

The question catches the throuple off guard. “Good, want that.” Jungkook responds, trying to push his hips up to grind on Namjoon, but unsuccessfully so.

“YN?” Taehyung eyes her, smiling back at the excitement on her face. “Okay then. Seokjin Hyung will you go and get the toy? Get it ready?”

“My pleasure.” He smiles, patting yoongi on his thigh as he shifts him enough to stand.

“Namjoon prep Jungkook. YN baby come here.”

Yoongis attention is torn as Namjoon begins removing Jungkooks clothes, grabbing the lube from the bedside drawer, also wanting to watch as YN slides onto Taehyungs lap, taking whatever kisses and touches he was willing to give, the younger in a particularly mean mood.

“Did I say you could grind on me petal?” Taehyung questioned, sliding a piece of YNS hair behind her ear. When she doesn’t answer he taps her jaw. “Answer me.”

“N-no but I can’t help it, I enjoy having you too much.” She responds with the lilt to her voice that Yoongi has come to notice none of them can refuse.

“Such a greedy thing, maybe I’ll keep you trapped under me, making you watch as I kiss someone else. How would you like that?” Yoongi stifles a laugh as she pouts, shaking her head.

“No, not fair.” She shakes her head. “I wa-

Before she can finish seokjin enters the room.

“You ready for YN to fuck you kookie?” Seokjin asks, running his hand through Taehyungs hair as he hands YN the strap on.

“Yes, big boss daddy over here is teasing me.” Jungkook whines, way too playful considering Namjoon was three fingers deep into his ass. The comment caused Namjoon to flush an unflattering shade of red.

“I think he liked that.” Yoongi commented, slightly revelling in the look on Namjoons face. “How would you feel Joon? If Kook called you daddy?”

“Uh-fine” namjoons voice was strained, once again Yoongi took great pleasure in it.

“I want to see YN fuck our kookie whilst joonie fucks our doll.” Seokjin grips Taehyungs hair, pulling the other head back as he bends over to kiss him, Yoongi can’t help but bring a hand to his cock, palming himself through his pants. “What do you think little prince?” Seokjin directs the question to Taehyung but Jungkook perks up at that, seemingly jealousy.

“Want that t-too.” Taehyungs stutters, biting Seokjins lip before pulling away and turning to YN “Off you go baby.”

Yn hops off Taehyung, eyes glassy from watching the two men kiss right in front of her. She’s naked within a few seconds, Yoongi enjoying the strip show just as much as everyone else in the room.

“On your hands and knees.” Taehyung directs to Jungkook, Namjoon moving off the bed for a second to allow the boy to move. Eyes raking over YNs before nodding towards the maknae. “Slide inside of him slowly Princess.”

Jungkook stays relaxed with Namjoon stroking his bare back as YN aligns to strap on with Jungkooks stretched hole. “How does that feel baby?” YN whispered to Jungkook, holding his hips as she bottoms out inside of him. “Too much?”

“No, more. More please.” Jungkook tries to push back but YN stops him. Namjoon fists his hair, leaning down to kiss his forehead. “You aren’t in control, Taehyung is.”

At that, Jungkook looks over to the masseuse “Tae please.”

“Give him what he wants petal, no cumming. I want to see jungkookie crying because he feels so good, but first, don’t you think YN should get a bit of pleasure too?” At that Namjoon gets naked, his hard cock bouncing as he frees it from his shorts.

He grabs the lube, coating his cock in it before shuffling on the bed to fit behind YN. “Ready?”

She nods, bending over just a little, evoking a moan from Jungkook as the strap shifts inside of him. “Fuck me, Daddy.”

Yoongi loved how shameless she could be, how she never hid what she wanted. She was bold, Yoongi loved bold. The room is filled with moans from all three as Namjoon fucks into YN with one slide.

“Enjoying the show, Yoon?” Whenever seokjin has THAT tone in his voice, Yoongi knows what’s coming. “How about you sit on my cock and maybe I’ll reward you?”

“Doesn’t sound too convincing, what do I get?” Yoongi grinds down on Seokjin, sitting in his lap has its perks.

“I could put a cock ring around you and then you won’t be cumming at all, like to see how you feel with blue balls.” Seokjin says curtly, hand resting atop the bulge in yoongis pants.

A particularly loud moan comes from the bed, causing Yoongi and Seokjin to look over. Jungkook was gripping the sheets so hard his knuckles were white, YNs thrusts Into Jungkook were halfhearted, Namjoon causing a ripple effect as he forcefully fucks into YNs pussy.

The door opened, and a smiling jimin bounced into the room making a beeline for Taehyung when he sees him sitting alone. “what’s going on here?” Jimin questions against Taehyungs ear, voice dripping like honey. “Is my puppy in charge?”

Taehyung nodded, gripping Jimins throat and pulling him in for a kiss. Yoongi could feel Seokjins cock against his back and with that Yoongi couldn’t resist. “Let me cockwarm you.”

“Stand baby, clothes off.” Seokjin instructed.

Yoongi rushed to do so, feeling Seokjins movements mimicking his.

“Do you want Hyung on top or beneath?” Jimin questioned. Yoongi couldn’t stop watching them, it was beautiful to see as Jimin slid onto his knees, pulling Taehyungs cock out of his pants the second Taehyung mumbled the words “Beneath please.”

Yoongi couldn’t pull his eyes away, even as seokjin guided him to sit on his solid cock voice low as he asked “How does that feel ?”

“Good,” Yoongi responded, finally feeling settled, and satisfied as the psychologist wrapped a hand around his cock, stroking it lazily.

“Fuck Jimin.” Taehyung gasped beside him. Yoongi was torn between watching the pair or watching the trio on the bed. Jungkook was close, his moans and gasps were desperate. YN was no better, body lazy with Namjoon supporting her. Yoongi clenched around Seokjins cock as he watched Namjoon pull YNs hair back, biting down on her neck, causing her to scream.

“Taehyung please.” Jungkook whimpered, his focus on Jimin as the Dom continued sucking Taehyungs cock. “I need to cum.”

“Only- fuck.” Taehyung gasps as Jimin swirls his tongue around the tip of his cock. “Only once Namjoon and YN have finished, you go last bunny.”

“No Hyungie please.. can’t.” Jungkook sobbed, so beautifully. “Please.”

“Yn baby, let our bunny suck your fingers for being such a good boy.” Taehyung directed, YN following the order instantly, eager to please. Jungkook quietened a little, his sounds muffled.

“Hyungs going to fuck you now.” Seokjin explained, Yoongi nodded eagerly. He leaned back against the therapist's broad frame, using all of his strength to bounce on the other's cock whilst being fucked into. “Your ass is so tight.”

“If you don’t wrap your hand around my cock right now I’m going to let someone else fuck me.” Yoongi threatened grinding down as hard as he could on Seokjins cock. The other responded with a deep moan, hand wrapping around his cock and throat simultaneously.

Despite being fucked out of his mind Yoongi still watched the others, Taehyung finally granting Jungkook permission to cum only as Namjoon filled up YN. Jimin took his entire cock down his throat as Taehyung came with a whine.

Fucking beautiful boy.

“Hyung won’t last long Yoongi.” Seokjin informed, his moans broken and breathless as he sucks a mark onto Yoongis neck.

“S-same,” Yoongi grunted, his orgasm just about to snap.

As though their bodies were in synch Seokjin came into Yoongis ass just as Yoongi painted his thighs, and the floor, with his own seed. “Fuck.”

Yoongis dick twitched but softened against his thigh. Seokjin removed his hand so as to not overstimulate him. Yoongi glanced around, Jungkook was flat out on the bed his chest heaving, YN had slumped onto his chest, strap-on thrown to the side, and Namjoon was checking on them both, despite his own tiredness.

“I’m so proud of you my puppy.” Jimin was cradling Taehyung on the floor, taehyung seemingly out of it.

“Hyung will get us a nice bath hm?” Seokjin whispered to Yoongi, a bath right now seemed perfect, being covered in his own cum wasn’t something he wanted to experience for much longer.

“Yes. Like yesterday.” Yoongi agreed.

“You’ve got to get off me then.” Seokjin reminded him they were still attached, Yoongi could feel Seokjin going soft inside him. Body shivering he pulled himself off, seokjin hissing at the overstimulation the action brought.

“You could have been more careful.” Seokjin glared, pulling up his boxers.

“Oh don’t pretend like you don’t love being overstimulated.” Yoongi joked back. “Is everyone okay?” He directs the question to the room, a few groans and quiet “yes” are the only responses he gets but he accepts it, trusting Jimin to be able to know the signs of a bad scene. He leads out with seokjin. They forego a bath, instead choosing to be quick and opting for the shower and for once Yoongi allows Seokjin to join him, even going so far as to allow the other to wash his hair. He secretly loves it, loves being babied, loves being tended to with soft hands and softer words but he also loved being stubborn, loved being the reserved one, loved being teased.

The shower was quick well as quick as it could be with two people stuck in a post-orgasm haze. Seokjin excused himself to check on the others. Yoongi explained he was going to check on Hoseok who weirdly enough hadn’t joined their little sex adventure.

Midday was approaching and soon enough his chance to be with YN would be up. It didn’t take long before he found the other, sitting on the couch, phone in hand. H

“So.” Yoongi huffs, slumping beside Hoseok. “I have a question.”

“Go for it.” Hoseok laughs, turning his attention to the doctor, phone out away. “I’m all ears.”

“Why didn’t you join us earlier?” Yoongi asks, putting Hoseok on the spot.

“Well- I just…” Hobi trails off. “I guess I wanted to give you all some time to be with each other.”

“And you thought that you could be there because?”

“Because I can’t make love to you all the way you do one another.” Hoseok sighs, truthful as ever. “I wanted to give you all a chance to love each other without worrying about me or how I would feel.”

“You have never been a worry to us Hoseok. You are always welcome wherever we are, whatever we are doing. I don’t know how many times you need to be told this but I will say it as many times as necessary.”

“I just know there’s a difference.”

Yoongi nods, he wasn’t wrong. “Maybe, to some extent, but no one’s feelings in this house are entirely the same. Does that mean I shouldn’t kiss taehyung because Jimin probably loves him more? Should I just stop sucking namjoons dick because He doesn’t love me?”

“Hyung that’s different, at least they can love you.”

Yoongi clicks his tongue. “Do you care for me Hoseok?”

“Of course?” He responds as though offended by the question.

“Then that’s it. No more to it. You’re you Hoseok, those of us that do love you whatever way we do, love you and care for who you are because of who you are.” The doctor states, his tone leaving no room for arguments.

“You mean that?”

“I don’t lie. Don’t ever seclude yourself for that reason.” Yoongi scolds.

“Okay, I won’t.” The Dom agrees.

“What’s it like to be aromantic?” Yoongi asked and upon noticing the confusion on the dominant's face he rushed to add .”You don’t have to talk about it, of course, I’d never want you to feel uncomfortable but I guess I’m curious.”

“No uh.” Hobi blinks. “It’s okay, just surprised. No one ever really wants to know, funnily enough, I actually had a conversation with YN about this the other day. I guess It’s hard to explain, there are all these misconceptions, that we are uncaring, we don’t want affection, we don’t want to be loved and we can’t love. It’s not like that at all, just like with anyone of a different sexual or romantic identity one box does not fit all. I’ve met aro people who are married I’ve also met aro people who don’t even like having friends. There’s a very big difference between them but they are both valid.”

“Of course.” Yoongi nods, more so to encourage the other.

Hoseok smiles, genuinely happy he gets to discuss something so important to him. “For me it’s different, when I first came here I wasn’t big on hugs, kissing or intimate physical touch. I think over time here that’s changed, we could all hug and hold hands and I wouldn’t have much of an issue about it because I consider you all close friends, people I care about very much. I don’t really see myself in a long-term relationship, I don’t want one, I’ve never experienced a desire for romantic love and in some way, I’ve always been very firm on boundaries because I’ve seen how much having an unrequited love can hurt.”

“Do you think those boundaries and desires changed at all here?”

“To some extent, I still don’t want or desire a romantic relationship, I care for you all and love you all, maybe not in the way I know some of you love me but I love you in my own way. I don’t hate the idea of doing things that could be perceived as romantic, not anymore at least, I guess it’s like a squish, a platonic crush you know?….Can I be honest with you, Hyung?”

“Always.” Yoongis eyes soften. “Tell Hyung.”

“I know I can’t give you all the love you give me, I can’t give you a relationship but I have my own type of love, if you could call it that, and the seven of you are the only recipients. I don’t know how to explain that further, I know it’s not the same but it’s all I can do, I don’t want to do more, this is where I’m comfortable. The most I’ve ever felt, the only way I can feel, I feel it for my seven.” Hoseok isn’t one to cry, but it’s hard sometimes so just this once he lets the tears fall.

The thing about yoongi is he was never great with tears, but still, he cared for Hoseok maybe not love exactly but something akin to it, with that in mind all he wanted to do was comfort the other. He wrapped his arms around him, pulling him closer. “Is this okay?”

“It’s good.” Hobi mumbled, voice shaky. “Am I too different? I don’t feel like I had a right to include myself in something I know you all see as romantic when I can’t give you all the same kind of love you give me, although I do love you all as friends. Homo intended?”

“Hey.” Yoongi shakes his head, pushing the younger back to look at him. “The love you give us, although different, is never less. We all want you, regardless of the way it is, we are happy with you in our affinity and actually, it’s OUR seven.”

Hoseok laughs at that, thankful for yoongis ability to bring some light to the sombre mood. “I know YN loves me.”

“Not just YN.” Yoongi corrects, hand running up and down Hobis back. “You know you have your own form of emotion, at this point, we should just make up a term for it.”

The dominant's eyebrows furrow, mouth pulled down into a confused frown “What like a Hoseok equivalent to “I love you”?”

“Sure. Uh….” Yoongi draws it out before smiling. “Could always say something like “I hobi you”.”

Hoseok laughs at that, not just a chuckle but a full-body laugh, bending at the waist as he clutches his stomach, Yoongi joining along with him. “No offence Hyung but that’s fucking awful.”

“Well then you think of a term, if you wanted to talk to a human dictionary you should have asked Namjoon.” Yoongi rolls his eyes, shoving Hoseok away from him. “I’ll copyright it, then you won’t have any term.”

“Please do, save me the trouble of worrying someone else will you that awful concoction.” Hoseok wipes away a tear from his face, this time caused by happiness. “Thank you, Hyung, not for the term but for the talk.”

“I would say anytime but after that fucking disrespect you can go to our in-house therapist.” Yoongi scoffed, pressing his lips together to suppress a smile.

“Actually, I’m off the clock.” Seokjin declared, walking into the room as gracefully as ever. “Hoseok, YN is looking for you.”

“I’ll go find her.” Hoseok responds, dipping out of the room.

“Hyung?” Yoongi turns to Seokjin. The man busied himself on his phone.

“Yes?” The therapist hums.

“I think someday I’m going to love Hoseok in a way I shouldn’t.”

“That’s okay. You aren’t alone in that. I’m afraid I’ll love them all a little too much.” Seokjin frowns.

“We are really fucked, aren’t we?”

Seokjin nods, a fitting laugh following.

They spend the next ten minutes on their phones before one by one they are joined by the others as instructed by Sejin. They still had Fifteen minutes before their time of freedom came to an end, the long faces despite the impromptu orgy showed everyone’s true feelings about the matter.

“This won’t do.” Jungkook announced. “We are not ending this thing sad, stop being so sappy it’s not like we are all leaving. We just can’t fuck and kiss.”

“Great words Jungkook, so touching.” Taehyung snorts. “YN baby come and kiss me, we don’t have long.”

Yn happily obliges, standing from Seokjins lap to slide into Taehyungs, it’s hard not to enjoy the sight. The puppy and the princess fight for dominance in their mini-make-out session.

“Don’t hog her!”Jungkook groans. Walking over and pulling YN back to kiss him, taehyung just watches with a grin as he runs his hands up and down YNs thighs.

“Okay okay enough, come here dove.” Hoseok beckons her over, opening his legs for her to sip on his lap. “I’m going to kiss you.”

“But-“ YN goes to argue but Hoseok cuts her off. A finger to her lip before leaning down to place a peck on her lips, nothing intense or overwhelming but something truly special.

Yoongi watches on with a smile, it feels as though he shouldn’t be there but Hoseok pays everyone else no mind. His eyes open as he places another kiss on her forehead and pulls her in for a hug. “Never forget that you are Sir's favourite person.”

“What?” Namjoon asks. Jungkook snickered with Jimin beside him. “You said I was your favourite.”

“Do I Dom you Namjoon?” Hoseok asks lips in a firm line.

“No.” Namjoon scowls, jealous of course.

“Then you are not Sir's favourite.” He continues playing with YNs hair, eyes trained on her as he converses with Namjoon. “Do you want me to Dom you Namjoon?”

Namjoon chokes on his spit. “You-What?”

“Come back to me later when you can formulate an answer and then we will talk about favourites, hm?” He looks at Namjoon for a second before turning back to YN. “Now pretty girl, go and give our eldest a kiss.”

“Mention my age again and I’ll make you sleep in the garden.” Seokjin jokes, but not really, as he accepts YN back into his arms. Any other words swallowed by her kissing him.

They all hear the door open, they all know who it is but no one turns to greet Sejin as he sighs shaking his head at the sight of the intimate session. “You know I said midday right?”

“Oh no, did someone forget the alarm?” Taehyung gasps, and Jungkook sends a pillow hurtling towards him. “No one sent an alarm.”

“It’s fine just wrap it up.” Sejin waves his hand, choosing to look out the window until Seokjin finally releases YN.

“Great if that's all I’ll begin now.” Sejin rolls his eyes. “You had your prize for completing the random challenge. I hope you made great use of it.” Yoongi meets YNS's eyes and she looks genuinely happy, no worry on her face as there is when it’s time for eliminations and as he looks at the others he notices it’s the same for them too. Sacrificing time for prompts was definitely worth it. He turns his attention back to Sejin who was still explaining the next prompts. “Because there are only three gentlemen left prompts will become increasingly harder. That being said gentlemen please come and collect your prompts.”

Yoongi stands, alongside Namjoon and Jimin. As usual, Sejin hands them all an envelope and tells them to keep it to themselves, although that was pretty much a given at this point. “This week's theme is “Switch”

Yoongi, as always when this time comes, looks over at YN, her face already a picture of determination and focus. He bites back a laugh at her face and turns his attention to his own prompt.

This week you will mimic Jimin, you must as as he would during a scene to fulfil your prompt. Yn must not decipher this during the scene.

Well, that was definitely going to be harder. He looked over at Jimin, whose face was a mask of calm. He was never bothered much by the prompts but as always Namjoon, unable to hide his emotions, frowns at the paper. Yoongi would definitely pull him aside and talk to him about it, by process of elimination Jimin would be acting like Namjoon and therefore Namjoon would be mimicking him.

There was no way he could hide an entire sexual personality shift, at this rate they would all be sleeping in the empty room.

“So now that’s out of the way, Jimin you and YN will be picked up this evening for your date, don’t be late.” Sejin eyes Jimin, already used to his tendency to stroll in the room whenever it suits him, regardless of the time wasted. “And that’s it I’ll get out of your hair. If you need me you know where to find me. Remember the rules are now in effect if you do anything you know you aren’t supposed to do you will be removed.”

“Yes yes, we know.” Taehyung pouts, staring at YN.

“Right.” Yoongi stood up. “ I’m going for a walk. YN want to come?”

“You can’t kidnap her.” Jimin protests “Okay fair Hyung.”

“Oh piss of Jimin.” Yoongi snorts, YN wrapping her arm around Yoongis bicep. “You got the big date, just let me enjoy the baby for a little.”

“Since when am I “the baby?” YN ask, pulling a “what the fuck” face as she says the word “baby”

“Since always?” Jungkook responds, voice imitating the confusion of YNs voice.

Yoongi smiles as YN turns to him, so beautiful he thinks. “Yoongi take me away from here, these heathens I can’t take it.” She falls against him dramatically and he can’t help but laugh as does everyone else in the house.

“Let’s go, darling. I will save you.” Yoongi plays back. “Your knight in shining armour is here .”

“Cringe!” Hoseok adds from the couch. “Get out.”

At that they leave the room laughing, arms entwined the entire time spare for the few seconds they put their shoes on.

“How are you feeling now it’s back to normal doll?” Yoongi asks, their conversation from two nights ago still playing in his mind.

“I’m okay, I guess Jungkook was right when he said we had to stop being sad about it.” Yoongi opens his mouth to respond, closing it again when she continues. “I wish Hoseok joined us. He told me you two spoke.”

“We did, I think he is just adjusting. Over the past 24 hours, I’ve noticed a few things?” Yoongi mumbles, staring at the trees in the distance as they walk the grounds. “I think we all segregate ourselves into groups, I don’t know if that’s necessarily bad but I think it would be a better environment if we all stopped sticking by those we feel closest to.”

“We do-“ YN starts, Yoongi shakes his head, silencing her.

“We do. I stay with Jungkook and Jin whenever I’m not with you. I spent time with Jimin and Hoseok alone yesterday and today and I felt slapped in the face when I realised I’d rarely done that. Jimin rarely goes to anyone But you, Taehyung and Jungkook. Hoseok sticks by Namjoon as though he is unable to exist without him. At first, I didn’t care, I came here to win and maybe make a few friends but I love most of you and I’m sure enough going to love the others and I don’t see that working in the outside world if we keep segregating ourselves.” Yoongi finished out of breath, walking and ranting didn’t make for a good duo.

He lets the whiteness settle before then, YN not jumping to speak and he begins to feel afraid he said too much when YN stops walking and embraces him in a hug before pulling back and kissing him. “You’re right, you’re right, I want all of you even after the show ends and it’s not going to work out if we keep on like this. I can already imagine how it will go, maybe for the first few weeks we will all be okay but slowly we will fall apart and eventually, it will be us divided into little groups. I really don’t want that.” She frowns and for a moment he regrets bringing it up, seeing her sad was never worth it. “Do you think we should talk to the others?”

Yoongi takes a deep breath, nodding. “I think it would be beneficial.”

She presses her lips into a thin line. “Then let’s go back and do that.”

“Right now?” Yoongi asks, eyebrows raised. “What about our walk?”

“You’ll still have legs tomorrow.” She snorts, pulling him in the direction of the house.

Yoongi sighs, dragging his weight as he walks. He just wanted a fucking walk. The house grows closer but suddenly they stop moving, shouting coming from the house. Yoongi looks at YN before brushing past her, running in the direction of the noise.

They are met with a sight that no one could expect, there was glass shattered on the floor, Hoseok in the corner with Seokjin, as Jungkook and Taehyung shout at Jimin.

“Let me explain!” Jimin shouts, Jungkook throws another glass on the floor before breaking down into tears.

“You’re a fucking liar!” Jungkook shouts, pulling a sobbing Taehyung in for a hug. “You should have fucking told us!”

“I was going to! It wasn’t even a big deal!” Jimin defends, looking as though he wanted to step closer but couldn’t because of the glass.

“What the fuck happened?” Yn whispers to Yoongi and he shrugs, he has no answers, they weren’t even gone that long.

Taehyung pulls back, looking Jimin dead in the eye. “You’re a fucking cheater.” He spits, his words like venom.

“It was before any of us got fucking serious!” Jimin screams, glassy-eyed. “Just let me fucking explain.”

“Stay the fuck away from me.” Taehyung points at Jimin. “I will never trust you again.”

“You could have just fucking said something Jimin,” Jungkook adds, voice a little quieter.

“You mean he could have just told us the truth!” Taehyung is distraught.

For the first time since entering the room, Yoongi finds his voice. “Does someone want to explain what’s going on here?” He looks at Jimin first and then over to Jungkook and finally, where Jin and Hoseok stand in the corner. “Anyone?”

“Why don’t you explain Jimin? Oh wait you’re fucking awful at doing that. I’ll tell everyone then. Jimin has had a fucking girlfriend this entire time.” Taehyung walks out of the room, the words dumping over Yoongi like icy water.

He doesn’t know what to do first, to comfort a crying Jungkook who has run out of the room after Taehyung, demands Jimin gives them answers Or coddle YN who has been frozen for the past few minutes.

Jimin notices the emptiness on her face. “YN! Baby I-“

She doesn’t give him a chance to explain, walking around the glass to go after Taehyung and Jungkook.

“Jimin what the fuck?” That is all Yoongi can say. Genuinely thrown back by the situation at hand. “Please tell me this isn’t true”

Jimin doesn’t say anything, he slumps to the floor, body overtaken by breathless sobs. Yoongi watches for a few seconds before walking over to him pulling the younger in for a hug. Regardless of what Jimin did or didn’t do Yoongi would always take care of him.

“Jin-ah,” Yoongi calls the eldest who is still frozen in place beside Hoseok. “Clean up the glass, please. Hoseok go and check on the others.”

They both nod, getting to their respective tasks instantly. “Jiminie baby look at Hyung.”

Jimin doesn’t look, his body shaking involuntarily as he sobs. “Let’s go and sit on the couch hm? Let seokjin clean up this mess?”

Thankfully Jimin stands, walking behind Yoongi to the couch. It hurts Yoongi to see him so upset, especially as he pulls his legs up to his chest and curls into himself, crying. “Oh, baby what have you gotten yourself into.” Yoongi sighs, pulling Jimin to him. His hand carded through the hair of the other in an attempt to calm him down.

The soothing actions work somewhat as Jimins choked cries soon become sniffles. “I didn’t cheat Hyung, I would never.”

“Then explain it to me minie.” Yoongi pleads. “I’m so confused here.”

Jimin sniffles one more time before sitting up. “Before I came here there was this girl, we had done scenes a few times but she was a really kind person, I wanted to help her find her footing in the kink world and we ended up going out to dinner a few times. This was before I was accepted on the show, I sent my application but I didn’t know if I was guaranteed to come on here, none of us did, so I continued with life, I kept doing scenes with her and netting her for dinner, we texted now and again when I first got here, she would send me encouragement, I guess sometimes we would flirt but I promise Hyung, on my life , on everything I love, the second I fell for anyone I stopped talking to her in that way. I tried to show Taehyung but he didn’t believe me.”

“Oh, Jimin.” Yoongi could see how it looked. “How did Taehyung and Jungkook find out?”

“They were using my phone to play games when she messaged, here.” Jimin pulled out his phone, opening the text threat before handing it over to yoongi.

“Oh.” Yoongi huffs. “Continue.”

“I was going to tell her that I didn’t want to, fuck taehyung is practically my fucking boyfriend but at this point if I put a fucking label on things I’d end up having 5 boyfriends and a girlfriend all of whom are mad at me!” He exclaims. A hint of desperation in his voice.

“She said you had late-night conversations, Jimin?” The question comes out a little harsher than intended but Yoongi can’t help it, he is only human and hurt and jealousy were very difficult emotions.

“She called me twice Hyung and I picked up thinking she would need something. We just spoke about how it was here, nothing happened apart from that, she asked me a few kink questions and I directed her to a friend that could help. That’s all.” Jimin searches Yoongis’ face. “Please believe me Hyung.”

Despite how the messages seemed Yoongi did believe him, call it gut instinct. “I do minie.”

“The glass is cleaned, I think we should talk.” Seokjin enters the room, an air of dominance to him that under better circumstances would make Yoongi in the mood to fu k, or get fucked. “Jimin explain please.”

Yoongi sits back as Jimin explains everything once again to Seokjin, much like himself he comes to the conclusion it was a misunderstanding. Despite that, it didn’t solve the resounding issues with the three beings upstairs, all of whom left the room hurt. “You need to talk to YN, you have your date tonight.”

“I need to talk to them all.” Jimin turns to Seokjin. “Please convince them to hear me out, they will take it better if it’s from you. They hate me.”

“They don’t hate you Jimin,” Yoongi argues.

“You didn’t see the way they looked when they read the messages or how quickly Jungkook agreed with Taehyungs thoughts that I was cheating. I thought they trusted me but they didn’t even give me a chance to talk to them about it.” Yoongi could understand that, the pain in Taehyungs eyes was unforgettable, Jungkook was the same and if he had a chance to properly look at YN he was sure she too would have been looking as hurt and betrayed as the rest.

“I’ll go and have a talk with them Jimin but bear in mind they may not be ready to talk, guilty or not they feel you’ve betrayed them and that isn’t something easily forgotten. I’m sure you too won’t forget the fact they dismissed hearing you out so fast. I’ll talk to them but let’s take this one step at a time okay?” Jin comforts realistically, it was one of Yoongis’ favourite things about him. Whenever Yoongi had a problem he would always seek Jin out first, not because he didn’t trust the others but because Jin was brutally honest, even if it hurt.

Yoongi pulls Jimin into another hug. “Let’s wait here okay?”

Jin nods at Yoongi before disappearing out of the room, the two sit in silence although it doesn’t feel awkward at all. Some time passes, and Yoongi isn’t sure how much, he doesn’t pay attention, instead focusing all of his energy on drawing shapes with his finger on Jimins shoulder.

They both perk up at the sounds of footsteps, YN walks in first, sitting opposite Jimin, and Taehyung follows behind, his hand holding Jungkooks, the pair sit the furthers away from Jimin as possible. Yoongi sees his hurt and feels his shoulders deflate underneath him just a little in disappointment.

“I want to explain, please just give me that chance.” Jimin starts, and Seokjin stands by the doorway.

“You have five minutes before I get up and pack.” Taehyung sniffles.

“What?!” Yoongi lurches forwards. “Pack for what Tae?”

“I can’t be here anymore.” Taehyung shrugs. Gaze flickering over Jimin before resting his head against Jungkooks shoulder and staring out of the window. From the lack of surprise, Yoongi guessed YN and Jungkook already knew about his decision.

“Please let me talk before you decide that, Tae. Baby please.” Jimin please, Taehyung doesn’t disagree and Yoongi takes that as a good sign. It was really just a misunderstanding.

Yoongi sat back as Jimin explained in detail. Despite it being the third time hearing it Yoongi still listened with the utmost attention, watching the other three to see their faces and hopefully their forgiveness.

“I promise I didn’t cheat.” Jimin finishes. Sitting forward as though he wanted to rush to their side.

“I understand.” YN speaks first. “I’m sorry I didn’t give you a chance to explain first, I just see Tae and Kook upset and when I heard I-“ she shakes her head. “I was hurt.”

“I’m so sorry it seemed that way, I promise the only people I feel anything for romantically are within this house.” Jimin says, hand gripping his knee. “Tae? Jungkook?”

“You said you didn’t cheat but you didn’t exactly go out of your way to shut her down Jimin. For all I know you could have walked out of here and asked her out on the same day.” Taehyungs words are spiteful but true.

“I didn’t want to cause any drama. She isn’t a horrible person and didn’t deserve to be shut down over a text message.”

Taehyung scoffed. “But we deserved you lying to us?”

“It was a lie Tae. I didn’t lie.” Jimin shook his head. “I didn’t even respond.”

“You didn’t shut her down.” Taehyung says firmly. “You maybe didn’t cheat but you fucking entertained it by not being honest with her.”

“Taehyung I did not cheat on you, yes maybe I made a mistake by not telling her instantly that I had absolutely no interest in her but I didn’t cheat. I have opened up to you all, you more than anyone. You were the first one I fell in love with. Is that what you want? Do you want me to be honest? Okay then fine fuck it I’ll be honest Taehyung. I couldn’t fucking help myself falling in love with you, I could t help Falling in love with YN after, nor could I help falling in love with Jungkook.”

Yoongi watched as Jungkooks eyes widened, clearly, he didn’t know.

Jimin continues. “Hell fuck me I couldn’t help myself starting to like Hoseok, having a crush on Jin and I’m pretty sure I fucking like Yoongi too.”

Yoongi himself bristles at that, attention turning to seokjin who stands just as surprised as him.

Jimin doesn’t stop there and Yoongi worries the dom may say something he regrets but doesn’t intervene, somehow he can’t. “Yes, I came in here too fucking prideful and trust me no one is more embarrassed about that than me. I came in here with no real fucking connections and I fell in love with you like a lovesick puppy but I couldn’t stop myself because every single time I woke up next to you it was like witnessing an Angel being born, I’m fucking mesmerised by you. So yeah you know what I’ll accept my fault For being too kind but I never cheated on you and the fact you didn’t even hear me out, instantly coming to your own conclusions shows me just how much trust we had”

Jimins crying Taehyung is crying, Jungkook is crying, Seokjin, YN and Yoongi are frozen, and Hoseok enters the too room at that point, he too freezes.

The air is thick with tension, so thick Yoongi is sure if he goes to the kitchen and grabs a pair of scissors he could cut through it.

“How long was she messaging you for?” It wasn’t Taehyung asking this time, it was Jungkook.

“Since the show started, I haven’t spoken to her since the start of the second week.” Jimin answers, honestly.

Jungkook nods, accepting the answer. “Will you tell her?”

“Of course, I will.” Jimin looks around for his phone, typing out a message that reads:

I want to let you know that I won’t be able to make it to dinner after the show finishes or any other time, I’m sorry if this hurts you in any way, you are always welcome to contact the other dominant I sent you the information of if you need guidance. I wish you the best going forward.

Jimin hits send, immediately blocking and deleting her number. “See!” He shows them all. “I would never choose anyone or anything over you.”

“Tae?” Jungkook whispered. “I think he’s proved himself enough.”

Jimin watched Taehyung. Yoongi could see the panic on his face as the masseuse stood up closing the space between himself and Jimin. “I will forgive you, but I’m not ready to talk to you right now. I won’t leave but please just give me some space.”

“Tae-“ Jimin tried but Taehyung was already leaving the room. Jimin looked helplessly at Jungkook and YN. “Please say something.”

“I forgive you. I think TaeHyungie needs some time, he’s afraid of being hurt min.” Jungkook stood, wrapping Jimin in a brief hug before sitting back down. “I’m sorry for not giving you a chance to speak.”

Jimin sat himself between Jungkook and YN, a hand coming out to touch her leg. “Yn?”

“I just- I don’t know what to say.” She shrugs. Bottom lip in a slight pout. “I thought you cheated, you didn’t cheat, and you didn’t exactly go far to close her down, I can understand your reasons why but you didn’t say anything to anyone about it which makes it seem like it was a secret but I know that’s highly unlikely which is why I’m giving you my forgiveness.” She smiled weakly at him, shifting to rest her head on his shoulder.

Despite the ⅔ positive outcome of the conversation, Jimin didn’t look any happier, he looked haunted. Yoongi wanted to fix it all, he really did, he hated confrontation, hated angsty feelings but he couldn’t do anything. He also really fucking hated being helpless. He would make for a shitty therapist, he thought to himself, setting a mental reminder to praise Jin for his therapeutic abilities.

“We don’t have to do the date tonight if you don’t want to, I’ll forfeit the prize.” Jimin looked at YN, dead serious.

She shook her head no. “I want to go, it will be good for both of us, it will give Tae some time away from you to cool off.”

Yoongi marvelled at her ability to think for those around her even when her own feelings had been hurt just minutes prior.

Yoongi noticed Sejin approaching the door, he pointed to it and they all turned their heads. “I’ll go and check on Tae.” Yoongi stands, not wanting to hear the explanation a fourth time.

He could hear Sejins voice taking over the downstairs space as he climbed the stairs two at a time, only growing more concerned as he heard Taehyung crying. He didn’t bother knocking, nothing could stop him from stepping in and comforting the sad boy. “Tae,” Yoongi called gently. Taehyung instantly opened his arms, welcoming Yoongi in.

The second they touched it was like everything inside of Taehyung crumbled. “He d-didn't.” Taehyung hiccuped, Yoongi rubbed his back, doing all he could to support him. “He didn’t t-tell her, He said he wanted to try really try with me but he didn’t even tell some stupid submissive from some stupid club that he loved me.”

“Tae.” Yoongi started. “Baby-“ he pause at the pet name wondering if he should take it back for a second, he was stepping into uncharted territory but he decided he didn’t care, not right now. “I truly think it was a misunderstanding, I don’t think he was cheating or even considering it. He loves you, he really does adore you.”

“B-but then why.” Taehyung cried harder, and Yoongi could feel a damp patch forming on his shirt. “I don’t- am I not enough.”

“Of course you are enough Taehyung, don’t ever let me hear you doubting that again.” Yoongi said firmly, that was something he wouldn’t stand for. “Try and see it from Jimins perspective. You know what his job is, he interacts with people like that on a daily basis and he cannot help it when someone thinks more out of a situation than he does. Would you want Jimin to quit his job? Stop doing scenes? Stop helping people who want to explore something new?”

Taehyung shook his head no.

“You’re Jimins puppy right?” Yoongi asked, this was either going to fix the situation or fuck it up more but something had to be done. “Can you imagine if you met Jimin outside of here? That girl was alone with the desire to try something new safely and jimin provided that for her. Imagine how nice it would have been to have someone as kind as him helping you discover and explore something you really wanted. Now tell me you wouldn’t have gotten your hopes up even slightly.”

Taehyung was quiet for a few minutes. “I can’t.”

“Can't imagine it?”

Taehyung shook his head. “I can’t be mad at him can I?”

Finally, they were getting somewhere. “I don’t think it’s the right thing but you also have to feel your emotions as they are, sometimes we don’t always have explanations for the way we feel.”

“I can’t imagine not falling for him, even outside of here I would have been just as hopeful as that girl. Jimin was still wrong to not shut her down instantly but I should have let him talk more. I said horrible things to him, he is going to hate me.” Taehyung sniffles, engulfed in a bout of self-pity and hatred.

“He doesn’t hate you.” Yoongi chuckles lightly, trying to be as comforting as he could be. “It was a bad situation, everything will be fine.”

“I told him I would never trust him again, I told him to fuck off before you came inside…I said that he was a shitty Dom.” Yoongi did not know that.

Yoongi bit his lip, this situation was a mess. “Did you mean those things?”

“God no I was just so hurt.” Taehyung looked up at him eyes puffy.

Yoongi nodded, there wasn’t much he could do. There was only one solution. “I really think you should talk to Jimin.”

“Can.. can you stay Hyung? Please?”

Yoongi raised his eyebrows, that would definitely make for an awkward talk. “You want me to stay when you talk to him?”

“Yes.” Taehyung nodded. “Please.”

“Okay.” Yoongi mumbled, considering it for s moment before agreeing. “Okay, just let me go and get him.”

By the time he got back downstairs Sejin had left, he would be sure to ask later what had happened but for now, he set his mind on getting Jimin and Taehyung talking. It was his personal project if you will. Jimin was still sitting on the couch, eyes glassy as he stared at the wall.

“Jimin?” Yoongi called out, getting no response. He cleared his throat, but still nothing. Huffing he slumped over to the Dom, waving his hands around his face like a maniac. “Jimin?” He tried again, this time the other finally taking notice.

“Hm?” Jimin blinks.

“Tae wants you.”

At that jimin is up in seconds, Yoongi swears he has never seen the other move so fast, not even for food. He stills only when reaching Taehyungs bedroom door, as though considering his options.

“What’s wrong?” Yoongi sighs.

Jimin turns to look at Yoongi with fear in his eyes. “He hates me.”

Yoongis face falls flat, he had officially had enough. “If you don’t get inside that room I will actually lock you both in the restroom for 24 hours. Do not test me Park Jimin, I am covered in snot and you both sound exactly the same.”

Jimin gives him a hurt look but nevertheless, he walks into the room. Yoongi sits himself in the chair in the corner, giving them space. It definitely ft weird to be present for it but if it made Taehyung feel better he would always stay.

“Please tell me you don’t hate me.” Taehyung sniffled.

Jimin looked surprised, Yoongi could tell he definitely wasn’t expecting that. “Tae no I don’t hate you, I was sure until Yoongi Hyung came to get me that you’d never speak to me again.”

“Explain it again, please. I promise I’m listening to this time.” Taehyung asked, Yoongi kept his focus on his hands.

Hopefully, for the last time, Yoongi listened as Jimin explained the situation. This time Taehyung was listening, nodding along. “I still think you should have shut her down immediately.”

Jimin nodded at that, he wasn’t denying his fault and Yoongi respected him for it. “I should have, I thought I was doing the right thing but I wasn’t. I made a mistake. I can’t change that Taehyung but I won’t ever talk to her again.”

“You shouldn’t have felt like you had to block her. She was someone you were helping and it was unfair of me to react that way.” Yoongi didn’t disagree with that, it wasn’t the healthiest reaction but the sudden outburst of emotions was understandable.

Heartbreak can make you do fucked up things. So can love.

“Did you mean it when you said you’d never trust me again?” Jimin seemed afraid to ask.

“I think I’ll need a little time to get over it, I guess…” Taehyung took a deep breath, Jimin didn’t say anything. Yoongi watched him, his frame still as he held onto Taehyungs pinkie as though if he let go the man would simply disappear. “I was so afraid of having my heart broken when I see those messages I just went into self-protection mode.”

“I can understand that and I’ll do my best to reassure you, it hurt the way you instantly labelled me a cheater even though I’d been so open and honest with you. I’ve never lied to you Taehyung and being so open has honestly been fucking terrifying so when you jumped to the conclusion you hated me and wanted me to stay away from you it felt like one of the worst things I’d ever heard.” Yoongi hated the way Jimins voice quivered, situations like these were never any good, and everyone ended up hurt.

Taehyung jumped forward to hug Jimin, Yoongi could barely hear the apology he muttered. “I’m sorry I did that, it wasn’t fair to you.”

“I just need to know you trust me Tae, everything we have is nothing if there isn’t trust.” Yoongi knew Jimin wasn’t just talking about their romantic relationship, everyone in the house knew Taehyung was Jimins puppy in a submissive way, that was literally impossible to maintain if neither trusted the other.

“I do I just… I need a little time to get over it. Call me overly emotional.” Taehyung joked, an attempt at lightening the mood.

Jimin didn’t argue with him, although Yoongi had half expected him to. “I can understand that, I think I too will need a little time to get over the things you said.”

“So are we okay?” Taehyung asked.

“Mostly.” Jimin smiled, albeit only a little, things were better. Not completely fixed but not irreversibly broken. “Hug?”

Taehyung nodded, eyeing Yoongi. “Hyung, join us?”

“Oh no. Nope. You two have fun, I need a drink.” Yoongi huffed, shaking his head. He wouldn’t drink but still, he could dream.

Jimin paused, looking back at Yoongi before placing a kiss on Taehyungs head “Yoongi Hyung is really mean isn’t he?”

“Yeah.” Taehyung agreed, laughing.

Yoongi was definitely not having that. “I played therapist all day you little ungrateful brats.”

“Yeah yeah, Hyung. We love you.” Taehyung shushes him and he can’t help but find it adorable. His chest swelled with pride at seeing them smiling again.

He truly hated when things weren’t normal. Yes, it would take a little healing, a few long conversations and maybe some trust rebuilding but things were gonna be okay.

Yoongi excused himself soon after. Feeling relieved when he found Namjoon sitting at the table as Seokjin prepared dinner.

“Need any help?” Yoongi called out.

Jin looked around before shaking his head. “I’ve got it covered just relax. How are they? ”

“Better.” Yoongi smiled. At that, Yoongi slumped onto a chair and rested his head upon his hands. Closing his eyes. “Where’s Yn, Jungkook and Hoseok.”

“Upstairs, they are helping her get ready for her date.” Seokjin replied.

Yoongi snorted at the idea of Hoseok playing beauty guru.

“What are you doing?” Namjoon asked as Yoongi rested his head on the table.

“Relaxing?” Yoongi responded dumbly.

Namjoon shifted one seat closer. “Can you help me with this Hyung?”

Yoongi was apparently appointed helper of the day. “What is it?”

“I’m seeking an opinion. I think if kind of figured out what I want to do, I’m just unsure if it’s the right choice.” Namjoon shut his laptop.

Yoongi considered it, not wanting to give bad advice. “What have you decided?”

“I’m going to finish my thesis, get my master's and then teach philosophy but if I win I’m going to use the money to help rent a space so I can have my own bookstore and teach philosophy part-time.” Namjoon smiles proudly, it’s as though for the first time Yoongi is seeing him at peace with himself.

“What are your doubts?”

“I like marine biology. What if I regret not doing something with that?”

“You always have time to go back and get another degree, you aren’t limited to doing one thing forever. If you want to teach philosophy and run a bookstore then do it, it won’t be easy but I’m sure if you need help there are seven of us here willing to do whatever we can. You’re looking at things like you have to choose right now and whatever you choose is irreversible. So what if you make a choice and it isn’t entirely right, you can always try again. Life isn’t one fit-all Namjoon-ah. Follow your heart as cheesy as that might sound do what truly brings you happiness. Forget everything else, forget what ifs, do what you know brings you joy right now.” Yoongi finished, pretty proud of his speech especially seeing the way Namjoon smiled back at him, dimples on show.

“Thank you Hyung, I can’t wait to tell YN.” Namjoon picked up his laptop, taking it out of the room before sitting back at the table, this time carrying a stack of plates.

Jimin and YN came down the stairs hand in hand, as always Jimin looked well put together, if it wasn’t for the puffy eyes you would never be able to tell that a difficult situation had broken out. YN was the definition of beautiful, a red dress, her hair wavy, makeup not too heavy but the smokey eyeshadow brought her eyes to life. Yoongi was tempted to turn them both around and take them upstairs to fuck, lazy fuck because he was tired but still fuck.

Maybe tomorrow.

Seokjin and Namjoon wandered over to YN, from the blush on her cheeks they were complimenting her an unhealthy amount.

“Where are you taking her?” Yoongi asked Jimin.

Jimin smiled at him. “A restaurant, then to a light display and then a walk.”

“Get her flowers.” Yoongi advised. “Actually , just one.”

Jimin frowned. “Why? I could get her a bouquet.”

“She’s awful at keeping flowers alive.” Yoongi jokes and Jimin pushed his arm, shaking his head in laughter.

“I’m great at keeping flowers alive.” YN must have overheard them. Yoongi rolled his eyes, opening his arms to her.

He breathed in her perfume, whatever she had on smelt beautiful. Yoongi pulled her closer, nosing at her neck it was a soft floral scent, Yoongis favourite.

“Cars here, we gotta go.” Jimin declared but Yoongi didn’t let go. “Hyung, stop hogging my date.”

Yoongi reluctantly let go, not before pulling YN in for a kiss, eyeing Jimin the whole time.

Jimins face hardens. “Don’t I get one too Yoongi?”

“Fuck off.” Yoongi laughed. Walking away from the pair.

Yoongi could feel Jimins glare at him and knew exactly what he had done, he hadn’t exactly forgotten the conversation they had during their challenge the other day, Jimin clearly said if he dropped honorifics it meant he was acting as a dominant, not as a boyfriend or friend. A part of Yoongi loved the fact Jimin couldn’t do anything, not right now at least.

Yoongi couldn’t help pushing, Jimin looked hot when he was pissed. YN seemed to have noticed something but didn’t bring it up, Jimin steadied her as she put her shoes on and then they were off.

…and Yoongi was horny but it would have to wait as seokjin started to bring the meat over to the table.

“Where is Jungkook?” Namjoon asked Hoseok as he trotted into the room. “And Tae?”

“Jungkook is coming down, just changing his shirt. I haven’t seen Taehyung.” Hoseok turned to Yoongi. “Hyung?”

Yoongi shook his head. “Not since I came down.”

Jungkook walked into the room, eyes focused on the table of food.

Hoseok patted him on the shoulder, grabbing his attention. “Jungkook where is Tae? Dinner is ready.”

“Oh.” Jungkook looked up at Hoseok. “He’s upstairs. I checked but he is asleep.”

Jin signed, frowning. “Poor thing, I’ll save him a plate.”

“Soooo…can we eat?” Jungkook rocked onto his heels.

“Yes yes, eat, god it’s like you’ve not been fed.” Seokjin laughed, taking a seat.

Jungkook made a look as though to say “Really?” He took some salad into his bowl. “Didn’t exactly have time to eat.”

“It was definitely dramatic.” Namjoon added, sliding a piece of meat into his mouth.

Yoongi didn’t have much to offer the conversation, focusing his attention on satisfying his forgotten hunger. It was already 8 pm and he was wiped out. He had some work to complete but that could be left for another day, he was wiped out.

Yoongi wasn’t afraid of emotions nor was he cold but when there was an influx of emotions going around he easily got overwhelmed by them, despite his deep understanding of emotions he never much bothered discussing them only when it was necessary. Maybe that was why he was so tired now.

“I’ll do the dishes.” Namjoon offers, practically all the food gone spare the plate that had been put aside for a still-sleeping Taehyung.

“What did Sejin say earlier?” Yoongi asked, remembering the man showing up for a while.

“He saw what happened but wanted to give us space to resolve it, he had to check to make sure it was okay but once he see it was under control he went back to his van. He did warn us no fighting and we have to replace to plates Taehyung smashed.”

Jungkook chuckled at that. “I will can’t believe Taehyung smashed plates. It’s been a long day.”

“Yeah it has, I’m going to have an early night. I’m exhausted.” Yoongi huffed, tucking in his chair before climbing the stairs. He knew he could get into his own bed but something about relaxing in Jin's room, stealing his sweater, felt eighth. So he did. It didn’t take long after brushing his teeth and changing his clothes his head hit the pillow and he was out like a light.

He was awoken much later as a sleepy Jin crawled in beside him. Yoongi lets himself be swaddled up in Jin's arms. “My baby had an emotionally draining day.”

“What am I? Your son?” Yoongi grumbles. “I’m not a baby.”

“Shut up and let me have this.” Jin scolds, placing a kiss on Yoongis's head. “I’m really proud of how you stepped up today.”

“Thanks.” Yoongi was half asleep but he still managed to smile a little at Jin's praise.

They both sat up a little as the front door closed, giggles growing louder, bodies thumping against the wall. Jimin and YN must have been back, possibly drunk from the way they did not worry about those sleeping in the house. A bedroom door closed and the house fell into silence once more.

“Kids.” Seokjin chuckled, pulling Yoongi back down to the bed.

Despite the dramas of the day he was where he wanted to be, wrapped in the arms of one of the many men he loved, with the other people he loved just down the hall. Everything was right in the world.

Whatever happened next they would face it together.

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allmyocsarebritish · 7 days

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Kiss, maime, kill - ch 1: the devil of delusion

Pairing: Alastor X killer! fem reader

Warnings!!!: Reader is a serial killer, convinced she is in the right, descriptions of murder, it goes without saying but I really don't condone this, Al's surname in this is Altruist cause it's even more ironic, but yes I know that's not canon

Word count: 1.1k

1927

Louisiana, New Orleans

You wouldn't consider yourself a crazed murderer. Murderer, yes, but crazed? Certainly not. Any and all lives you took were but a waste of space, and, as fucked up as your morals may have been, they were there, and that was all that mattered. You weren't an equal opportunity killer, there was always a means to an end, and, what started with clearing your once impoverished family's debt, became playing the hero in so many stories that one may believe you had grown some sort of bloodlust.

But you hadn't. You wouldn't.

That was what you told yourself as you wiped your bloodstained hands on your jacket, the ebony fabric clinging to your torso, drenched in the vital liquid. An adrenaline rush was only natural after such a heinous act, and revelling in the sinful delight was part of moralistic killing. Right?

*graphic content warning*

The corpse of your seventh victim was still bleeding from both the spinal chord and the liver; a painful death with no means of escape, though the man had long since taken his final breath. Experience had taught you a lot, from how to efficiently off those of which you targeted, to the best methods of disposal. Butcher's knife still clutched firmly in your hand, knuckles turning white with the tension, you began to hack at the joints and muscle connections, making for an effective burial.

Thankfully, this time you had thought ahead, and chased your prey into it's final destination before the hunt truly began. It made the cleaning process substantially more efficient. The small copse you had chosen as a final resting place for this man was carpeted in a thick layer of grass, something that would mask the grave. You took your shovel and began to dig.

Further, further, further. Deep was still too shallow. The thrill of the hunt ebbed away to a new kind of rush: not being caught. The familiar tingle engulfed you as your hands began to tremble and a sadistic smile etched its way onto your features. You continued digging.

Never one to recklessly abandon evidence, you shrugged off your jacket, used it to wipe down your knife, and dropped it in the tomb. A shame really, you had always favoured that one. Nevertheless, you began to fill the hole. 8ft or so, should you have had to hazard a guess. The strain on your muscles caused by the ruthless exercise was beginning to take a toll, and thus your pace slowed in covering your tracks. The exhaustion was rather overwhelming, albeit so much less than when you first started. Each kill became easier, and thus more enjoyable. Though of course, you still only committed these crimes for the good of your community. Right?

A gentle pat on the soil and you were finished; such a stark juxtaposition to the merciless way in which you took the life of the man below the Earth. That would teach him not to...

Well, you couldn't exactly remember what this one had done, but it didn't matter anyway. It had to have been bad enough to warrant death, you were sure of it.

Shovel and butcher's knife in hand, you made your way out of the copse, ducking behind trees in order to remain in the shadows - something that what was either to be the biggest mistake or blessing in your entire existence.

Your mind was filled with sadistic delight, as you twirled your weapon between your fingers, humming a gleeful tune. Pride coarsed through your veins, the adrenaline rush slowly wearing off. But it was okay; you could always kill again. There were plenty of bad people in the world. yourself included

SNAP

You whipped around, panic and thrill creating a pounding in your head. Nothing. Of course, you were in a forest: there was bound to be animals nearby. Still slightly shaken, and feeling more alive with each passing second, you continued on your way, albeit at a much faster pace.

SNAP

There it was again. Now you were convinced this was no animal. Footsteps were drawing nearer and nearer, shattering twigs and debris in their wake. The soft thudding rang sharp in your ears and sent the earth trembling beneath your feet. This was it; you had been caught.

SNAP

A final deep breath before you succumbed to your fate. You dropped the knife, and raised a palm, although keeping hold of the shovel with your dominant hand. Just in case. Turning around slowly, you weren't met with the sight of cops, nor police, nor any kind of law enforcement. No, instead you were met with a slender figure, clad in classy, dark attire, glasses perched on his delicate, upturned nose. His hair was sleek and brunette, shade deepened by the low light of nighttime. His heavy lidded eyes, framed with dark circles, held an aura of mystery and suspense, something that excited you and drew you in, locked in the gaze of this stranger. (This is so cliché I'm sorry)

"Are you some kind of detective?" Your voice was shakier than it should have been and you strengthened your grip on the shovel.

The stranger simply chuckled and couched down, picking up your knife and inspecting it closely. "Quite the opposite, my dear. In fact, I am one of you." His charismatic voice held a transatlantic accent, familiar to you for reasons you could not decipher.

"A killer?" You asked, raising an eyebrow.

"A hunter." His smile grew, a sadistic gleam in his eyes reflected by the moonlight. He held out a hand to you, still gripping your knife with the other. "Alastor. A pleasure to be meeting you, quite a pleasure."

"Y/N. Wait, Alastor? As in Alastor Altruist? The radio host?" That's where you knew him from. His voice was much smoother in person, without the overlay of static.

"The very fellow." His pride at your recognition was not remotely disguised.

"So, are you going to kill- uh, hunt me?" You stuttered awkwardly, cringing at your lack of social skills.

Alastor laughed again, truly a charming sound, despite the obvious malice it was masking. "Of course not, dearest! Where would the fun be in that? I want you to join me."

Your blood ran cold at his request, yet any fear or doubts that may have sprang in your mind was overshadowed by the thrill of adventure. Sadistic adventure.

"On what conditions?"

"What a cautious one you are! And rightfully so. I want to form a partnership."

"Why?" You were incredibly skeptical now; why the fuck did he want to ally with you?

"Why does anyone do anything? Sheer absolute boredom!" He dragged his hands down his face in a dramatic manner, causing you to suppress a laugh. "So, my dear. Do we have a deal?"

You thrust your hand into his waiting palm.

"Deal."

Ty @passifaggressifnahjustaggressif for help with the banner

Part 2!

#hazbin hotel #hazbin #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin alastor x you #hazbin alastor imagine #hazbin alastor x reader #alastor imagine #alastor x reader #alastor

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delightfulcollectivetyphoon · 2 months

Text

is it just me or does this pic radiate MAJOR predator/prey vibes? like he's just rawdoggin your soul. just me? okay

anyways, smutty thoughts below the cut

tw: loud concert, mentions of anxiety, mentions of wolves, mentions of smut, cuss words, kinda daddy issues?, fluffy angst (or angsty fluff)

a/n: so um yeah I meant for this to be like 10 sentences and I wrote a goddamn novel oopsies. and this ain't even the full thing.

You were sitting on the balcony all the way to the right of the entrance, at one of the smallest gigs you'd ever seen Metallica play. Wolf and Man was pounding into your ears, your senses blurring from the thrill of it all. You were watching Robert and Kirk run circles around each other, and you smiled at how silly these old men could be, like they were being kids again. You felt eyes burning into the side of your head and just 100 feet away was James, staring you down in a fierce manner. He didn't break eye contact as his tongue darted out to lick his bottom lip, he was hypnotizing. Your smile fell slowly as your lips parted, lost in his sultry glare. One of the spotlights fell on him so perfectly; you could see every beautiful outline and shadow of this masterfully sculpted man; his sweat covering his skin with a thin sheen. The massive screen behind the band was focused on him, and you saw up close how his eyes were clouded with something more than lust, a wolfish need, like he wanted to tear you apart, make you squeal, savor every inch of your skin. Something you had dreamed of ever since walking through the venue door and saw him in his vest and tank top. He smirked at you as he played the last few notes of the song and brought his tank to his mouth to wipe the sweat off his upper lip, the drops glittering his silver hair no more. The crowd screamed and clapped as the men gave their thank-yous and till-next-times.

-----------------------Backstage, a half hour later------------------------

The bag and ticket checks were brutal, and you started to wonder if this was a bad idea. Meeting Metallica seemed like a good idea in retrospect, yes, but now your anxiety was getting the best of you. Your palms were sweaty, your heart was racing, and your mouth was dry as the Sahara. The bottle of water sitting in your bag suddenly came back to mind as you snatched it from its pocket and tried to take off the cap. Your hand was shaking, making it difficult. You finally managed to get it off and sipped it for the next few minutes. Jesus Christ, was meeting 4 60-year-old men this fucking stressful? Some quick self-reflection brought you the idea that meeting Rob, Kirk, and Lars was exhilarating, but not stress-inducing. Meeting James was your main problem. It wasn't really a problem, he was just your favorite of the band, whether for his look or his playing, you didn't know, but you had chalked it up to a fair 50/50. This was a problem you were excited to have. Some parts of you were more excited than others, but you pushed that thought to the very recesses of your brain. If you had the scenario of screwing a man old enough to be your dad in the back of your head, it would definitely make its way into your conversation, which was more or less bound to get you a weird look and a premature "it was nice meeting you!" But God, his stare made you anxious in all the right ways and you just couldn't stop thinking of him staring into your soul as he chased you down, captured you, and made you his. You snapped out of your little thought bubble as you neared the platform. James was shaking the hand of a middle-aged man, someone you guessed was a father because of the 5-ish-year-old girl standing at his feet, holding onto the bottom of her father's shirt. James squatted down so he could be eye-level with the girl, and you instantly knew that he looked differently at others. He had reserved that stare just for you. Your brain ran rampant with the possibility that he might actually just want you, and that he wasn't generally so domineering and intense, but just when he saw you. In fact, his eyes returned to what you thought a 60-year-old's should look like, soft and sweet, teddy-bear-ish. He shook her tiny hand, and she shook it back and moved in for a hug. You couldn't blame her; he looked like just about the most huggable person there. He laughed as he closed her arms around her, telling the dad that it was okay after he tried to apologize and pull her away.

"Be good for your dad, okay," he asked, almost commanded as he straightened her jacket, ruffled from the embrace. He gave her one last smile as she nodded and walked off with her dad. The attendant ushered you forward as James picked up his water and took a sip at the same time you did. When he tilted his head back down, he saw you staring at his battle vest, or more importantly the tank top covering his chest and tummy. God, his tummy was hotter from up close. He caught you staring, and your faced burned with embarrassment.

"You like it?"

Your breath caught in your throat at his raspy tone.

"What?"

He laughed and set the bottle down on the table behind him. He gestured you to the chairs and table set up on the platform, probably decades-old wood that squeaked when you settled into it.

"My jacket, you like it? Saw you starin' at it, figured it interested you."

He was subtly fucking with you, letting you know he had caught you staring at his tummy, imagining it colliding with your back as he drove deeper and deeper into you, owning you. He had known that you were awe-struck by the idea ever since he saw you staring back during Wolf and Man. He had all the confirmation he needed.

"Oh, yeah, it's an awesome vest! I have one like it, just not as many patches. It's also a little less worn; I just bought it and started adding stuff about a week ago, actually."

He smiled and leaned back. The angle allowed his tank top to stretch tighter across his stomach; allowed his vest to cling to his shoulders, accentuating how broad he was. You involuntarily inhaled through your nose like it was the last sniff of oxygen you'd ever get. You'd tried your best not to gasp, that would for sure get his attention. He smirked.

"I know you're not here to talk about vests. I can tell something's on your mind. C'mon I have 3 kids, I can tell when something's wrong by poorly masked facial expressions," he joked, and you softened, comforted by his willingness to peer into your thoughts.

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thanks for reading, this is my first ever fic! i think i did fairly well, but feedback is appreciated! should i do a part 2?

#predator/prey #papa het #metallica #james hetfield #metallica fanfiction #metallica x reader #james hetfield x reader

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manjiroscum · 1 year

Text

LILY OF THE VALLEY

Character/s: snow leopard hybrid!Rindou Haitani

Warnings: f!reader, mature language, explicit sexual themes, dark content, canon typical violence, blood, murder, dub-con, marking, mentions of mating, hybrid au, kidnapping, yandere!rindou, dom!rindou, sub!reader, cockdrunk reader, implied multiple rounds, dacryphilia, unprotected sex, breeding, blackmailing/threats, pet play, and use of pet names. Minors do not interact.

Note: commissioned by @httn 💜 thank you love for trusting me with this! i hope you like it 🫶

Synopsis: Only fools come out to play with a feral cat.

WC: 6.1k

Crimson specks marred the freshly fallen snow akin to wine spilled all over a white linen cloth. The bullet wound on his thigh was slowing him down. Nevertheless, Rindou trudged up the small hill to reach the other side of the forest hoping he would escape his pursuers that were looking through his busted car for any signs of life. With his teeth gritted, the lost man was sure he might die today. After getting separated from Ran and the others, a car chase occurred as he fled from the warehouse when a bomb about to blow up the building was shouted out. In all his years of doing the same song and dance, one could say Rindou got used to the chaos that has intertwined into his life since the day he was born with the need to experience thrills.

But, fuck, he could never get used to getting shot or bleeding out. The first time hurt like a bitch and the second time it happened made him want to pass out. It was more irritating to face than shoot those who dare touch his tail. Now, Haitani Rindou was sure he will die. Whatever plan those bastards cooked up that would confirm his demise, he had to give them props because they might succeed. Car dead, his phone without any signal, the temperature dropping fast, and a forest that may span a thousand hectares was just the starter pack he needed to die in these woods.

Rindou can’t die here. It would just be pathetic. So pathetic that they might make jokes out of it. His death would only make people say he deserved it or it is the consequence of having an unpleasant lifestyle. And honestly, fuck them. He has to live. He has to get out of here and seek shelter before the frost bites his fingers, ears, and toes off. What would his enemies think? What would Bonten do? What would Ran do?

What should he do?

A million thoughts raced through his mind as his knees finally gave away. His eyes fluttered close for a moment, inhaling the cold air sharply that he was quite sure it could cut his nostrils like blades made out of ice. A trail of blood followed him from where he started all the way to the top of the hill. In contrast to the icy atmosphere around him, his lungs burned. During these times, delusions would enter his mind to distract him from the impending doom that was looming above his head. Death was now breathing down his neck as if they were old friends. Its voice called out to him through the chilly breeze that brushed past him and the strong trees that appeared like shadows of those whom he wronged and killed to survive. If he had to guess what hell looked like, this was possibly the closest description minus the flames. Why would such a cold environment bother him in such a way? This has never happened before. He could think of countless reasons why a hybrid such as he who was meant to thrive in such an environment was slowing down.

Ah, that’s right… He never had to be out much to do his dirty deeds. It was always his underlings. Pawns who would readily obey him for various goals. He and Ran, without fail, get away from taxing jobs. After all, meaningless fights never appeased their appetite for violence. Something always had to interest the brothers for them to act. Looking back on those memories of merely partying and finding someone to toy with, Rindou couldn’t help but exhale deeply. His lips were chapped due to the lack of moisture in the air.

If my life is flashing before my eyes, perhaps I am indeed dying…

And yet, amidst the snow and harsh winds, a merciful angel came into view. Rindou thought he was already a goner for his eyes to conjure such a beautiful sight. Vivid colors murked into a blur as his vision steadily failed him due to exhaustion finally catching up to him. However, the second that angel spoke, voice soothing despite the panicked tone evident in it, he realized this was reality.

“Sir? Oh my god, w-wait. I need to call an ambulance—”

“N…o.” It took all of his strength to move his lips and tongue. The woman before him met his dazed stare, shifting her attention between Rindou and something behind her. “No am…bulance…”

“W-what? Why? No, you need immediate attention…”

Haitani Rindou, one of the infamous criminals Bonten has in their arsenal and the fearsome younger brother of Ran was still vulnerable to things that exude innocence. Perhaps it was just in his nature to be drawn toward something he can never be and so he tried to push away the person who came out on a snowy night to help him. This earned him a surprised expression and more questions he couldn't answer. Rindou’s efforts were in vain as his eyelids finally shut, and the last of his energy left him unconscious in the hands of a stranger.

I’m sorry, Ran…

There was a sea of trees you had to drive by to reach your parents’ house. The road was slippery due to the snow but you had to go after promising to drive carefully. After a hearty dinner and entertaining their inquiries about whether you will get married or not, you were set on heading back to your apartment. Tomorrow is Monday and you had to wake up early for your nine-to-five job at the cafe your cousin owned. Normally, your schedule ranged from mundane to the occasional unexpected events that usually revolved around your job or your parents. Yet they were never anything spontaneous or something that will make the hairs on the back of your hair stand until you had to rescue this man now sleeping on a makeshift bed in a veterinarian’s clinic.

Ignorance could sometimes save a person’s life. The second you saw the hanafuda tattoo on his neck, you knew the shit you were about to get into could get messy. Never had you ever thought of bringing an infamous person, let alone one of Bonten’s henchmen, into your home. The veterinarian you called for help swore his secrecy after he commended you for doing first aid, but commented that men like him shouldn’t be saved. Yet, your conscience wouldn’t let you sleep soundly at night if you left him there on a cold winter’s night to bleed to death or get feasted on by bears.

“Are you… his girlfriend or somethin’?”

“No, I’m not,” you responded while cleaning up the bloody clothing and gauze after Rindou’s wound was stitched up. “However, as a human being, I couldn’t just leave him there. I’m… not capable of such cruelty.” The man shifted his attention back to the dangerous person fast asleep and then squinted hard as if his patient was just pretending. Grunting, the veterinarian gathered the last of his tools into his bag and made his way to the door, but not before leaving you some sound advice.

“Be careful because this choice you made might just bite you back. I’ll be back as soon as possible when I find a doctor in the area. Don’t worry, I’ll make sure this secret doesn’t reach the authorities.”

Thinking back to what happened earlier, you were sure your blood ran cold at the sight of a broken car by the road. Initially, you thought the vehicle broke down and that the owner must be somewhere nearby since it would take around twenty minutes to get to the nearest town. Unless they had to hitch a ride because it was freezing and decided to leave the car. But the second you saw what seemed to be bullet holes in its body, uneasiness coated your nerves like thick molasses. The dread of finding a dead body doubled upon seeing blood on the snow, leading up to where you found the dying unknown man.

Damn it all. He wouldn’t harm someone who rescued him, right?

No, scratch that, this man wasn’t a stranger to you. You were the stranger—not him. Everybody who worked in Tokyo and heard the news was all aware of Bonten, the most dangerous gang in the country to date, enough to rival the yakuza. Those hanafuda tattoos they branded on their flesh bear the symbol of their loyalty to the man who founded the group, Sano Manjiro. The Haitani brothers were as famous all by themselves. It didn’t have to take you long to know everything they committed under the sun or the veil of night. Rumors of the brothers and Bonten always circulate on the internet. In short, they were individuals you had to avoid to live long.

Eyes glancing at your phone sitting by the couch, you debated whether to call the cops and turn him in. Maybe getting Rindou off your hands will be the first step to having your normal life back… Or will just cement the death sentence he shall bestow upon your unfortunate soul once he recovers.

“What the fuck am I supposed to do now?” you groaned into your hands. Sleep was out of the question. You had to monitor Haitani Rindou for two obvious reasons—one because he might wake up and two because he might silence you the second he does. Gruesome pictures of your death flashed on the television screen ran across your imaginative mind and honestly, you were scaring yourself. Clearly, you didn’t think this through. But, what’s done is done. There was no way you could throw him out now. “Let’s… just make sure he’s fine enough to walk out of here on his own. Y-yeah…”

Exhaling a defeated sigh, you sat down on the floor and stared at Rindou’s unconscious form. For a man as big and bad as him, you bet he would snore loudly. Yet, he looked almost like a corpse—unmoving and quite fragile. The biggest shirt you had at your disposal appeared tiny in his huge frame. The veterinarian even gave up on giving him something to wear on the lower part, muttering how he shouldn’t even be bothered to clothe the criminal. The thought of Rindou being naked down there was slightly distracting, making your eyes wander down from the hanafuda tattoo on his neck to the intricate design on his torso until you slapped your cheeks to make you stop eyeing the muscular hybrid.

What the—don’t do this to yourself. He is a criminal, for fuck’s sake!

Rolling your eyes, you grabbed your phone to check for any messages. There was only one from your mother, checking up on whether you arrived home. A humorless laugh escaped your lips as you lied to her. Besides, she will definitely panic if she knew you were looking after a criminal in a vet’s clinic. You hoped to distract your mind from spiraling into endless regret by watching adorable videos of dogs. A good turn deserves another… You just wished Haitani Rindou was a person who would reward good deeds.

The morning was rough on you. With a stretch or two, you cursed your aching back while you proceeded to order breakfast for three. Your cousin was kind enough to give you a day off after phoning in with a fake cold. The minute you finished offering him apologetic words after lying through your teeth, you then grabbed the takeout and sped off to the clinic Rindou was moved to. Caffeine and sweets were the things keeping you sane save for the veterinarian and a doctor, whom he roped into the situation, present in the room. Dr. Hinohara was silently observing Rindou’s body while giving a blood transfusion to the still-sleeping hybrid. Compared to last night, the younger Haitani looked slightly better. He still appeared like he crawled out of hell and survived, though.

“I guess we don’t have to bring this man to the hospital,” the doctor spoke after some time. “There doesn’t seem to be a bullet stuck to his thigh. He did lose a lot of blood. I’ll just make sure to monitor him in case he needs more blood transfusions and if there could be any infections on the wound. If he does turn for the worst, I will have to bring him to the hospital—”

You were quick to object, leaving your cup of coffee to stand up. “H-he told me he shouldn’t go to a hospital. I’ll pay you, Sir. I’ll make sure to pay you for treating him. J-just don’t bring him there. Please…”

Dr. Hinohara sighed at your statement, sharing a glance with the veterinarian. Just as you were ready to shoot down their suggestions of you putting an end to your good samaritan role, the doctor then nodded solemnly in resignation. Appeased, you backed away before sitting yourself down once again. Seeing that there wasn’t anything left for him to do, the veterinarian excused himself and left the establishment. A few minutes later, Dr. Hinohara did the same to attend to his outpatients. It wasn’t until lunchtime when he came back that you decided to head back home to catch some sleep after a long warm bath. To be in a room alone with Haitani Rindou, awake or not, was making you anxious. Your eyes were often fluttering close, trying to stay conscious and alert in the presence of an infamous gang member. To let your guard down would be serenading death.

“You can come back tomorrow afternoon,” Dr. Hinohara said with a gentle smile upon seeing you out. “I don’t think Mr. Haitani would wake up today anyways. Go home and get some rest. I’ll call you if anything changes about his current condition.”

“Thank you, Dr. Hinohara.”

If you knew that the day you saved Haitani Rindou would be the last time you could ever experience a normal life, perhaps the future wouldn’t turn out like this—with you almost sticking to a corner whereas Rindou glared at your quivering form. Dr. Hinohara was nowhere to be found on the second floor and your mind concocted various scenarios at the sight of the trashed room. How could the man be up and ready to threaten you with his sharp claws when he was just barely conscious days ago? You even recall Dr. Hinohara remarking about Rindou being too weak to open his eyelids. So just how?

Irises sharp as his claws remained on you, hues of ultra violet hoping to unmask your intentions by staring right into your soul. Behind his predatory gaze were promises filled with violence and a whole world of pain if you so much as make a single move that he will deem a crime towards him.

Haitani Rindou was not a man to be trifled with.

“You… Didn’t I tell you not to bring me to a hospital?” he questioned in a demanding tone, taking a step closer to you which prompted your weak legs to fall back. This is the very thing you hoped to avoid. Maybe if you were given the foresight that Haitai Rindou would recuperate enough to stand today, you would have come prepared to negotiate. Negotiate with him not to kill you and to leave you alone because you did what he asked. However, he didn’t seem happy at the idea of recovering in a clinic, afraid his location would be alerted to the police. “What’s the matter? Suddenly can’t use that tongue of yours? From what I remember you weren’t mute—”

“This isn’t a hospital. Y-you’re in a clinic, can’t you see?”

The hand you used to gesture at the area shuddered upon seeing him move. Rindou was obviously confused as he surveyed the room, unsure whether to take your word or not. You couldn't blame him, though. Blood rolling down his thigh akin to raindrops on a glass window captured your attention, taking away the assertive statements off of your lips. Your fear for him was outweighed by your concern for his wound that might have reopened due to his carelessness.

Rindou was quick to create distance between you two. Your eagerness was mistaken as an act to lunge and subdue him which was something you couldn't do. He realized this the moment he winced in pain, hand applying pressure on his bleeding thigh. You clicked your tongue and hurriedly helped him back onto his bed. His hostility towards you disappeared with each pang of pain that erupted around his injury. Of course, he just had to be slowed down by this and for you, this was a blessing in disguise.

“Stay here, okay? I’ll go see if Dr. Hinohara has returned.”

Any deity above must have heard your silent prayer for the doctor announced himself inside Rindou’s room, eyes wide at the condition of his patient and the messy room. Minutes passed, and the hybrid was now waiting for the pain to subside once his wound was attended to. Lips in a tight line, you sat by the side, waiting for the doctor to say something—anything that will get rid of the awkward air that settled in the room. Instead of something positive, Dr. Hinohara approached you with a dejected expression that caused your heart to momentarily stop beating. His next words almost had you wishing you were sitting down due to the implications of it.

“I’m sorry. I know I shouldn’t do this since I am a practitioner of medicine and should have empathy for my patients no matter who they are… But I can’t have Mr. Haitani stay here any longer. You must understand. My other patients have caught a whiff of his presence here and are too scared to come over. I-it’s bad for me.” Dr. Hinohara then added to soften the blow, “If he stays over at your place, I-I promise to visit and check on him from time to time. Although, I doubt I could do much since he’s close to full recovery.”

Bullshit.

It was utter bullshit. There was no way his other patients knew about Rindou being treated in the clinic. Based on the days you visited the hybrid when he was still unconscious, everyone who visited the doctor didn’t display any signs of uneasiness. Yet, you couldn’t do anything to appeal for Rindou anymore since the doctor was more than eager to kick him out. For all you know, the hybrid trashing the room was his last straw.

Exhaling a heavy sigh, you turned the stove off and poured the hot soup into two bowls. The Bonten executive sat on the living room couch, watching a daytime show. He was unbothered by the small space of your apartment, thankfully. Rindou barely fussed upon arriving, probably because he did not have any other choice. Even with his infamous reputation, throwing him out was inhumane.

You wanted to help him, but it has been years since you took care of someone sick or injured. Plus, your mother’s temperament was far different from Rindou's.

“You okay with miso soup?”

Rindou merely grunted in response, avoiding your gaze while he took his bowl from you. Fighting the urge to roll your eyes at his moodiness, you took the seat across from him prior to drinking the soup you made. For the hybrid to keep sulking like this, you figured it was because his wound hasn't fully healed, and limped every time he walked. Men like Rindou hated weakness. To display his vulnerability to you like this must be torture to the mighty snow leopard hybrid—someone who isn't used to being on the other side of the spectrum.

Yet, he never dismissed your acts of assistance. No matter how much you teased him in an attempt to lighten the mood or receive his narrowed gaze, Haitani Rindou never made a move to hurt you during his stay here. Or at least that is what he's trying to do—to lure you into a sense of comfort before he strikes like an apex predator. Nevertheless, you continued to meet his needs.

“You okay?” you asked him when his spoon fell to the floor. Your legs were up and running to get a towel once you saw what happened. He dropped his spoonful of miso soup on his bandages because his limpid eyes couldn’t be torn from the show he claimed was too boring. “Mr. Haitani, you shouldn't pay attention elsewhere while eating.”

“Can’t help it,” he answered with a scoff. A ghost of a laugh slipped past your mouth at the thought of him acting almost like he was a big cat distracted by the pretty colors that led to this situation. Shaking your head, you wiped off the droplets of miso soup from his thigh. After you tossed the towel to the side, you stood up straight and placed your hands on your thighs. Rindou’s tail went stiff at your stare which was accompanied by a smile. “What?”

“Are you… enjoying the show? I thought you found it boring?” The giggle that followed your inquiry did not go unnoticed by the hybrid. The tips of his ears turning red were proof of that. Hearing no reply, you continued to tease him. Your hands are busy fixing up the couch before taking your bowl once more. “I mean, it’s alright to admit you like these soap operas. My mom enjoys them too, you know. Well, not enough to be—”

“I wasn't distracted,” he huffed and averted his gaze at your silly smile. “I was just… surprised.” Rindou never elaborated further on whatever stunned him. You merely shrugged and slurped your soup, content with sitting next to him on a Thursday morning. This has been your life lately—taking care of breakfast and Rindou in the morning, going to work afterward, and then coming back during lunchtime. Despite the reasons you came up with, your cousin never questioned you as to why you requested to come in later than your usual hour. He did, however, tasked you to stay until closing time. A small price to pay. After all, this isn't going to be the norm forever. Rindou will have to go back home and disappear from your life as soon as his wound heal.

Somehow, the reality had sorrow creeping up your heart. Rindou staying in the apartment and seeing him every day made you think he has always been there. His sulky expression softens up whenever his guard is down. He wasn't even aware the corner of his lips was curling up once. The way he dismisses you the second he realized he was showing happiness was cute in its own way. You were used to stifling your laughter at his displeased face that did not match well with his tail swishing side to side. His silhouette blended into your little space, making himself at home. And unbeknownst to you, Rindou felt the same way.

“Don’t act like such a big baby. It’s good for you!” You pushed the plate of rice with natto on top. His irked expression eased down while he took his chopsticks. The smell of the fermented soybeans did not sit well with his nose as he ate to appease you. Yet, he willingly ate, especially with you grinning in front of him. “There you go. That wasn't so hard, was it? Can’t believe a gangster like you dislikes natto.”

Innocent things like you were bad for his health. You were poison to his system—having him think of stuff he never gave a second thought on. Rindou lost count of how many ideas of him whisking you away where no one else can see you crossed his mind. Everything about you exuded a normal and peaceful life—a luxury for him who couldn’t afford it anymore. He should’ve turned you away and let himself die that night because now he didn’t want to leave. His wound was almost closed up and he didn’t have to limp around or ask for your help whenever he bathed. Rindou has grown far too fond of you to merely go back and forget about your kindness. For your sake, he held himself back and enjoyed you doting on him despite the numerous teasing you’ve thrown his way. Pretty but lethal flowers were only meant to be admired from a safe distance. Preferring to keep his claws hidden and the space between you wide, Haitani Rindou liked it this way.

Until he didn’t—until he got greedy.

Dr. Hinohara just had to burst the bubble Rindou protectively held with a single statement that the hybrid was free to go. You couldn’t describe the emotion that swirled within you, ignorant to the deathly stare Rindou gave the doctor. Dr. Hinohara swallowed thickly at the heat of his gaze, slowly taking a step back in case the hybrid decided to kill him on the spot. The younger Haitani wished he could turn back time and stop the old bastard from revealing his secret. Despite sabotaging the stitches for so long to keep it from healing too fast, Rindou’s game was up. And yet, not all of his cards were played.

His trump card has yet to fall onto the table.

Ran came over to your apartment the second Rindou rang him up after a month of no contact. The reunion happened under the stillness of the night where not a soul could be found on the streets. The chloroform his older brother brought was put to use to make sure you wouldn't scream or do any trouble as he placed you in Ran’s car. Rindou then discarded the baton hidden at the back of the trunk, already cleaned off of Dr. Hinohara’s blood, into the nearest waste bin before letting Ran drive down the road heading south.

The moment you woke up from what you thought was a terrible nightmare, you were chained to a bedpost in an unfamiliar room in someone else’s bed. The collar on your neck was a bit tight and the chain attached to it wasn't long enough for you to reach the door. A little bell was hanging on the collar and it jingled with every movement you made. You thanked your lucky stars that you were still fully clothed but that feeling of relief waned away too fast. Your head pounded while your eyes frantically searched for signs of where you are. Rindou entered the room with a tray of food. His eyes slightly went wide at the discovery of you greeting the conscious world then his lips broke out into a grin.

“I see you’re awake.”

“R-Rindou? W-what… Where am I? What’s going on?”

Your inquiries fell from your mouth like the teardrops on your cheeks at the realization. Rindou hushed you multiple times while he set your meal down on the nightstand but you never took heed, fearing for your life. It wasn't until he took out his phone to show you a picture of your parent’s house that your tongue felt like it was made out of metal. Your hands balled up into fists at the image.

“Don’t hurt them. P-please…”

“Looks like you're smart enough to guess what I’m implying here, huh?” Rindou chuckles at your horrified tear stricken face. “I guess calling you a big baby right now won’t be satisfying.” Hand underneath his chin, the hybrid let out a contented sigh. “I knew I was right. Other girls I’ve met before weren't as intelligent as you. Saves me from explaining what will happen to your family if you try to escape.”

“What do you want from me?” you demanded, nerves and voice shaky. His irises shone brighter than amethysts as he observed you on his bed. After a month of nursing him back to health, Rindou was intent on returning the favor—just without outside interference, of course. There was no way your parents would allow him to date you and to see you with a faceless nobody would be the icing on top of his cake meant to insult him. He can't have that. “Rindou, what do you want? I-I’ll do anything! Just please leave me and my parents alone. If you want an apology for all those days I’ve teased you or said something wrong, I’m w-will to do so!”

“Nothin’ much, angel. I’ve passed the need for anything.” He then pulled you up by the collar of your shirt. Leaning down to whisper into your ear, Rindou’s lips curled up. “I’ve already got you.” The second he spoke those words, a shiver ran down your spine. Not giving you any time to collect your thoughts or to wipe the tears from your cheeks, the Bonten executive took a step back and gestured at your clothes. “Strip.”

Hands trembling, you did as he said. More tears exited from your glossy eyes which Rindou couldn't wait to lick away. As soon as you got rid of your pajamas, you covered your exposed stomach and breasts until he clicked his tongue. You winced at the sound of it.

“All of it, angel.”

You heaved a deep breath. Your panties slid down your legs agonizingly slow. The rest of your body burned in shame under his piercing gaze. It was as if Rindou would be struck by lightning if he dared to look away from your gorgeous form. You steeled yourself once he took away your clothes.

“Go and eat your meal. I’ll be back.”

Rindou shut the door behind him. You couldn't stop crying even while you ate the meal he prepared. It was hard to know where you were as the window was bolted shut and barely let natural light in. Your heart beats wildly inside your chest whereas you stiffened at the sight of him returning. His violet irises landed on the empty plate before nodding approvingly.

“Good. I’m going to give you a drink now.” He took off the chain from the bedpost and pulled it for you to follow him. But not before commanding you to do it on all fours. His sharp canines peeked out when he smiled at your obedience. The fear strumming its chaotic cords to have you obeying the hybrid. “That’s it, angel. Make sure not to bump into anything on the way to the kitchen.”

Even with Rindou as your sole audience, your soul was close to dying out of shame. Your pussy folds were out in the open, clit throbbing uncontrollably for the wrong reasons as you followed him from behind. It didn't take you long to figure out this was Rindou’s house—or his temporary home. You were too busy making sure you were keeping up with his huge steps and not falling behind to scan your surroundings. The hybrid then paused and turned to you. His hand gestured to a bowl made for a pet sitting on the floor. It was filled up with what seemed to be milk.

“Go on. Drink it all up, angel.”

Cheeks burning, you hesitated for a second. It was when he walked behind you that the panic kicked in again and you unwillingly bent down. Your tongue was stuck out, ready to lick up the milk to appease Rindou, deaf to the sound of unzipping. The palm of his hand was cold against your cunt, causing you to yelp. His free hand was quick to keep your head from turning around to see him.

What the fuck is happening?

“You’re not the only one who’s thirsty… Shit, you’re wet?” He was more amused than disgusted at his findings. This was fucked up. There was no way you were turned on despite what occurred. Maybe you were sick in the head all this time and Rindou’s actions just brought this to light? You would never know as your mind started to grow hazy due to the pleasure of him rubbing his palm across your slit. You were no virgin but it has been a long time since you’ve done it. Perhaps that was the reason why?

Why does it feel like that’s a lie?

Retracting his claws, he plunged two of his fingers into your warm pussy that parted easily for him. Front teeth digging into your lower lip, you kept back the moan bubbling up your throat while Rindou rubbed his fingers against your tight walls. Slick coated his hand which made it easier for him to feel around your gummy walls. His pleased groans were too much for your ears, his hard length brushing on your ass. His tail swished around before curling around your leg. Your hands keeping you upright were trembling as the onslaught of bliss was increasing, gaze glossy.

“Fuck, this pussy is so tight… Are you going to let me fuck you, angel? Huh? Does my pet deserve this dick?” he questioned with mirth in his tone. Another finger was added, widening your hole. You couldn’t help the whine leaving your lips, eyes shut as you fought back more from coming out. Rindou held you by the waist when your legs gave out, cooing into your ear. The hybrid brought up his hand coated with your juices, inhaling it then tasted your slick. “It’s that good? I’ve waited so long. Held back and let you have your way. You’ll let me have you, mhm? Been good, angel. The least you can do is return the favor…” A silent gasp was what Rindou earned when he tapped the head of his cock against your pussy folds, rubbing his length on the damp flesh. Slowly, he entered you.

“A-are you gonna—ah!” You were sure he was going to tear you apart. It stung as the girth of his cock stroked your tight muscles, molding its shape there. Rindou took a few seconds to get accustomed to the way your pussy enveloped his dick, hissing under his breath at how heavenly you felt. And now that he has finally held you, Haitani Rindou was damn sure he has found his mate. Now, he will make sure to keep you by his side whether you want to or now. He’ll just have to give you something that will make you reluctant to leave… Or fuck you so hard you wouldn’t be able to walk out of this place without him. Maybe getting you pregnant will be the solution to this problem. “Ah, fuck… S’ big. R-rindou!”

“Angel, wanna give you cubs. You’d want that, huh? You want to be mine?”

His thrusts were hard and rough, causing you to moan and squirm. Lust rendered you blind as you took and took what Rindou gave. Time was no longer relevant at this point. All you could remember as he continued to fuck you like a savage beast during the mating season was the way his claws dug into your skin, marking you as his. The place’s layout slowly etched itself into your mind as he made it his mission to fuck you in every area with the endeavor of filling up your womb until all you could feel was his cum running down your thighs. Your breasts and nipples hurt after going through the abuse done by his mouth. Hickeys littered your torso and the skin of your neck. Clit and folds puffy, you couldn’t tell how many times you have squirted. Rindou always patted your head each time before tugging your nipples in a teasing way. The collar still wrapped around your neck jingled along with your breasts, soaked with your sweat and tears.

“R-Rindou! I-I can’t—”

“Yes, you can, angel. You can take more.”

He never gave you a break or a minute to rest and catch your breath. The moment he finished inside you, his balls emptied another load, replacing the cum he spurted into your cunt that dribbled out. Mind all in a mush, you sobbed at the overstimulation. Finally, the hybrid set you down on the couch, panting above you. A puddle of your essence and Rindou’s cum sat around your ass. The furniture wasn’t the only unfortunate victim of its owner’s quest to impregnate you and claim you. Mouth wide open, your eyes were fluttering shut due to exhaustion. Yet even as you stared at Rindou with those tired eyes, he held his cock glazed with both of your fluids right in front of your face in expectancy. The tip was red and super sensitive after hitting your cervix countless times while he fucked your brains out.

“Don’t tap out on me, angel,” he mumbled. Mustering up all your leftover strength, you sat up and licked on the reddish tip, earning a pleased groan. His hand reached forward to brush away the strands of hair from your face then carded his fingers through them. “Good girl. Always remember this, okay? Good kittens should clean up after playing. Good kittens shouldn’t make a mess.”

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degloved · 3 months

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been hoffmanblogging for days now but don't think i've forgotten about peter strahm. don't think that for a second! i'm not a strahm kinnie for nothing. issue is i don't even know where to begin with him. what do you even say about special agent peter strahm, uncle sam's best boy? what do you say about the man who rocks up to the gruesome crime scene of a brutalized cop, and when everyone looks away from the gore, his eyes only linger on the mangled flesh till the sight imprints itself into his memory? what do you say about the man with a golden band about his finger, the heaviest thing he's ever carried, yet who never speaks a word of his wife, not her name nor a passing reference? what do you say about the man who has, by appearances, always been aware of his very loose handle on the anger that he tirelessly lugs around, heavy on his shoulders, thick in place of blood in his veins, always surging first to his fists—and then to his throat, squeezing and choking like a phantom hand? what do you say about the man who is more a bloodhound than a man, who catches the scent of blood in the water and doesn't—can't—stop pursuing? (for better or for worse, never losing sight or scent of the trail yet never lifting his nose far enough off the ground to see the vultures circling him overhead, eager to be fed if the creature tracking him in turn becomes hungry enough soon.) (it will.) what do you say about the man that calls it bringing criminals to justice and doesn't know it's the thrill of the chase he's after, hooked on adrenaline and hankering for a fix wherever he can find one? i guess you could say that he didn't think he'd cry, at the end of all things. he's an agent, of course he's thought about dying, don't be ridiculous. only, he'd figured he'd be going out in a blaze of glory, giving his last hurrah, laying his life down for something meaningful. always meaningful. and that never involved crying or even screaming, and yet—and yet look at him now. the walls are closing in—literally—and he's crying like he's never cried before, and what grips at him is not anger but terror, terror in its purest form, such as he's never felt in his life. i guess you could say that he's pacing the increasingly smaller room like an agitated, paranoid animal, that very bloodhound at a pound, the bloodhound at a kill shelter. i guess you could say he doesn't want to die, but he doesn't want to climb in there with hoffman still—even now, knowing what comes later, he doesn't want to. it leaves him in a sort of limbo. in picking between life and death, he can't make a decision. the decision is made for him, of course, but that's beside the point. i guess you could also say he's never imagined that anything could be more painful than a bullet tearing through flesh and viscera, though that was a belief conceived before the bone in his forearm (ulna, he remembers its name) comes out through the thin skin of his inner wrist—and for a second, just a second, he thinks he might be lucky enough and bleed out. there's a lot of blood. it splatters against glass. hoffman's looking up at him, and still he can't puzzle out the expression on his face and in his eyes. but it doesn't matter. peter realizes he will not bleed out fast enough. he has never been that lucky

#i need to. go sit down maybe. i need to be prescribed seaside air #peter strahm #mark hoffman #hoffstrahm #saw #n #thinkpieces

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lavendertales · 1 year

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Sweet lies: Chapter 1

pairing: Frankie Morales x f!reader

summary: you return to your beloved hometown and you're set for a night out with the old gang. But the night isn't short of surprises.

word count: 3.4k

SERIES WARNINGS: former friends who were in love with each other, angst, mutual pining, tension, eventual smut, jealousy, infidelity, wrong choices, kind of arranged marriage too I guess.

A/N: I NO LONGER USE A TAGLIST! If you want to be updated on my works, click “Get notifications” on this blog! Comments & reblogs are forever appreciated 💕

gif: @uuuhshiny

series masterlist | AO3

The pleasant memories of this place are still vivid. Unchanged, unsoiled by time and the pain it carried along with it. But it’s not that easy to focus solely on the good. It never is.

There is also melancholy to be felt. Deep and sharp, soaring through you like a black veil of smoke. It’s intangible, yet it still aches. All the contradictory emotions that come with you simply standing there, gazing around, are still very much alive in your chest, as it’s the day when you left it all behind.

And you sure remember that day, clear as the sky above you, and cold as the crisp February air around you.

You were only eighteen. Still a child, barely beginning to trace out the steps on your life’s map, but it was your dream. You had the opportunity to fulfill it, and you could not miss it. You knew you’d never forgive yourself if you missed it.

After months of sending out applications, you finally received the answer you’ve been hoping for. You had been accepted into one of the most prestigious universities in the world. Cambridge University, full scholarship. Just like that, you embarked on the most wonderful adventure yet, chasing the dream of studying abroad.

But it wasn’t that easy. That much was clear.

You were, of course, going; nothing was going to break your way. You packed all of your things, mentally prepared yourself to move abroad indefinitely, perhaps for good. Yet, you found yourself utterly weakened by the idea that you had to say goodbye to your friends. It would be tough, but you knew they’d be completely supportive. You wouldn’t even have dreamt of anything else.

On your last dinner together as a group, you were joined by the Miller brothers, Will and Benny, Santiago, Rose, the only other girl amongst you, and Frankie. They all offered you their sincere congratulations and support, just as you had anticipated. Though they were saddened that you would no longer participate in their daily lives—at least not that actively—they promised to call and write to you, and to catch up as often as possible.

But each time you looked around the table and noticed Frankie’s pleading and soft glare, you began to question everything, from your decision to study abroad, to your own damn sanity.

The impact that man had on you was simply magnetic. Even now, thinking back on it, nothing ever came close to the rush you had being around him. It was a warm thrill, if that made sense. You were the best version of yourself when he was around, and before you knew it, you were hooked. Being around Frankie was the closest you’ve ever gotten to feeling love in its most flawless and pure state. He was soothing, loving and warm, everything you forgot you could be. You thought that even if you were to spend every second of every day with him, it would still not be enough. There was just something between you two that boiled right underneath the surface, simmered in unbearable heat. Unspoken, begging to be released in one way or the other. It never materialized, though. Neither of you addressed it, for one reason or the other, so you left.

There were times when you swore you had imagined that Frankie could ever reciprocate your feelings. You managed to convince yourself that it was all in your head, that your mind had fabricated what your heart desired in order to cope with the fear of rejection and loss. And you survived on that knowledge. Knowing that it was unrequited love made it easier for you to survive abroad all those years.

Ten of them, to be more precise. Ten years you’ve been gone. Well, not gone gone, but it sure felt bizarre to return after so long.

Few things have changed in town: new shops, new infrastructure, but that’s about it. Nothing really palpable to you. You can’t help but look around though while you wait for Santiago to pick you up. The people seem the same, like you’re the only one who’s aged in the past decade. You wonder how many of those people walking by had dreams, and you wonder whether they followed them or had to push them aside in survival’s favor.

Tonight, you’re meeting the old party for dinner in the same restaurant you met ten years ago. With a few exceptions, of course: Rose can’t make it, but promised to make it up to you in the following days and the Millers are bringing their girlfriends. Santiago remains single from what you know, and you couldn’t bear thinking too much about Frankie, so you were running on sheer curiosity and a “we’ll cross that bridge when we get to it” basis.

But your subconscious runs wild with questions and scenarios: is he married? Is he bringing his kids? Is he single? Is he gay now? Anything feels possible at this very moment, when all you know is fear and doubt.

“One thing’s for sure, life abroad agrees with you.”

The voice is unmistakable; you turn, being greeted by Santiago’s bright smile and open arms. You practically sink into the embrace, a lovely sensation of friendliness and home nearly overwhelming you. He hugs you tightly, sincerely, rocking you a little to the left and to the right, then he lets you go.

“You look absolutely beautiful,” he continues, eyeing you up and down.

“Save something for dinner, Santi, damn.”

“Oh, speaking of that. Something you should know.”

You don’t like his tone when he announces that; your heart drops in your stomach. Don’t think it, don’t think it, don’t think it…

“Frankie isn’t coming,” he says, and you can’t help but feel relieved in the slightest. “Something about building… something. I don’t know, honestly. Might be furniture. I think.”

“Not really surprising, but good to know.”

Santiago looks at you in a way that’s meant to make you feel sorry for what you said.

But you’re not.

“Come on. It’s been ten years.”

“I am over it, Santi, I promise. But I do think I at least get to be snarky.”

“You know what, tonight is about you. Go for it. Shall we?”

You nod, getting in the car, all while entertaining Santiago with stories from your most recent whereabouts.

But there’s a warzone happening in the back of your mind. That part of your brain can only reminisce the cruel way you and Frankie ceased to exist as friends.

You loved him. That much was true and as real as it could be. But you loved him as a friend first. He had been the most positive influence in your life, so much so that you managed to quit smoking and get straight A’s on your SATs. You spent most of your time together in the senior year of high school talking, laughing, sharing music and stories, and simply caring for each other.

Then one day, it all stopped.

He had kept in touch with you for a little while after you moved away, but conversations grew thinner and rarer, and you could tell something was wrong. He insisted that everything was fine, and a week later, he vanished from your life altogether like he was never there to begin with. No phone calls, no texts, no emails, nothing. He was gone, without ever saying goodbye.

You even thought of him as being dead. It was infinitely easier than lying awake at night trying to understand what could have been done differently, what went wrong and what could you have done to prevent the rupture from happening. Cruel and bizarre, yes, but easier to cope with.

Because losing your dearest friend wasn’t something eighteen year-old you knew how to process.

Whenever you spoke with any of the guys, you asked not to be told about Frankie other than answering the question “Is he alive and well”. The answer was always yes. He was alive and well, and that made you happy for him, but in return it made you feel bitter and alone.

That was the extent of the contact you kept with Frankie. The guys respected your wish as well and never went into details about him, so you had no clue what his life looked like now.

“Now that you moved back in town and the group is essentially back together, are you just never gonna see or talk to Frankie again?”

Santiago’s question is blunt and to the point, but it’s only natural he be curious about it. Everyone in your little party knew about your feelings for Frankie, and they all knew how devastated you were when he subtracted himself from your life.

“I don’t know,” you reply honestly. “I could.”

“Can you though? I mean, you’re bound to run into each other at some point.”

“I—I don’t know, Santi, okay? I obviously miss him, I think I might miss him forever, actually, but at the same time it’s…”

“Yeah.”

He quickly glances over at you, offering a trademark Santiago Garcia compassionate look that, oddly enough, calms you down a little.

“It’s hard,” you finish saying, heart back in your throat.

“I know. But look, neither of us is forcing you to do anything. We’re just glad to have you back and we hope things can be okay between us all.”

“I sincerely hope so too.”

“And Frankie’s part of our lives whether you like it or not, so you either gotta get over it fast and accept that, or things will be very awkward.”

“I did move on.”

“Tell that to yourself.”

You feel some anger to his remark, though not the primal kind that got you in trouble.

“It’s hard to just erase someone out of your life, someone you cared for so fucking much,” you blurt out. “Obviously not to him, he did it perfectly, but I can’t do it so easily. It’s been ten years and it still hurts to think about it.”

“If you think it’s been easy for him too, like it was a light decision to take, you couldn’t be more wrong.”

You exhale loudly, hoping that will be a good reveal of your annoyance with the situation. Luckily, Santiago is great at picking up cues, so it does not require any more effort on your part.

“I’m not saying what he did was smart,” he tells you, his voice soft and filled with regret. “Personally, I think it was idiotic. But one thing I do know, is that he was in a lot of pain for a long time after it. Which means it wasn’t easy to do.”

You make a grimace, feeling surprisingly at peace hearing that. “Good,” you say, and even you recognize how mean you sound right now. “Why should I be the only one miserable?”

Santiago chuckles, nodding his head as if to say “you two idiots are killing me”. You know that look. You’ve seen it plenty of times before. You’ve even been on the receiving end of it a few times, too.

“But things really started to pick up for him,” Santiago continued. “In the past few years, he’s really—“

“Can we not talk about him or us or anything remotely related to that tonight? I just want to have a nice dinner with you guys and not think about him. Not yet. That’s… tomorrow’s problem.”

“Alright, sure thing.”

And true to his words, he didn’t speak another word about Frankie, nor did he even mention his name. Truthfully, even that is more than capable of awakening all the feelings you had fought so long and hard to bury deep within. You know it’s only a matter of time until you’d inevitably run into Frankie again, but that is an issue for tomorrow. You don’t have to mentally prepare for it until tomorrow.

All you want to do is relax, have a nice dinner with your friends and tell yourself that you are home.

The moment you walk through the restaurant’s door, you see a fairly big table on the right, and the first figure you notice is Will’s. Being the tallest of the group, it’s virtually impossible not to spot him in crowds. He’s always played the role of the mentor among you, the quiet, yet wise one that you all came to for advice at some point in time.

He’s the first one to remark you, too, and he smiles instantly, standing up to greet you. Then off goes Benny with his exuberant personality, excited like a loyal dog reunited with a friend. They both reach to hug you, patting your back and squeezing you gently into their arms.

“Long time, no see!” Benny exclaims. “And it is quite the sight, might I add.”

“First Santi, now you… I’m on fire tonight, huh?” you laugh.

“Here, have a seat,” Will encourages you, pulling a chair for you.

“Thanks.”

“This is Mia, my girlfriend.”

The girl named Mia extends a hand to you, smiling politely at you as you introduce yourself. She’s a beauty indeed; luscious, brown curls cascading down her bare shoulders, a red dress fitting her body, and when she smiles at Will, her eyes sparkle in a truly mesmerizing way. She even seems to be on the quieter side, which matches Will’s persona to a T.

“And this is Emily, my hot-shot girlfriend,” Benny says.

The other girl named Emily shakes your hand and smiles all the same. She’s just as beautiful as Mia: red hair, green eyes, stunning dress and lips so full even you’d spend all day kissing them.

“We’ve heard so much about you,” Mia says. “The guys sung your praises a lot.”

“You really shouldn’t talk so much about other girls, you guys,” you tell them, menu in hand. “Especially not when your girlfriends could be models.”

Both girls giggle, but it’s not one of those fake laughs that you can spot from a mile away. They seem genuinely flattered and nice.

“Em did model for a while a few years back,” Benny gloats, wrapping his arm around her.

“Benny, come on.”

“What? I can’t brag about my incredibly sexy girlfriend?”

“You are, we can all hear you,” Santiago says under his breath, his vulture eyes locked on the menu.

Will chuckles and moves his glare on you.

“We heard you studied at Cambridge, is that right?” Mia asks you.

“Yes. I was lucky enough to get a full scholarship there for the Arts program.”

“Oh, what did you study?”

“Business Management.”

“So you know she really means business.”

Everyone giggles at Benny’s words and gets ready to order. Meanwhile, Will’s gaze never leaves your figure. He’s on your left, one seat over Santiago, so he gets a pretty good view at your creased brow.

“Did Pope tell you?” he asks suddenly, and you realize seconds later he’s addressing you.

“Tell me what?”

“About—Frankie.”

He falters, like the name is some forbidden cuss word neither is supposed to say.

“Oh. Yeah, he—he did mention that he couldn’t make it tonight.”

Will makes a grimace, exchanging a look with Santiago that makes you feel left out of whatever little secret they got going on. But then you begin to suspect maybe that’s not what Will meant at all.

You’re in no mood to discuss anything Frankie-related tonight, so you let it slide.

“Yeah, he couldn’t make it tonight,” Benny agrees. “Too bad. It would’ve been nice to have all of us here.”

“Mhm.”

You add nothing else after the hum, and the guys don’t ask anything else, much to the girls’ curiosity. But when the waiter asks for your order, you all place it without second thoughts.

Although you highly doubt you’ve heard the last about Frankie this evening.

“How long have you and the bros been together, ladies?” you ask.

“Well, Benny and I just had our one year anniversary a couple of weeks ago, and Will and Mia have been together for… what, five months?”

Will nods, stroking Mia’s hand. “Six month anniversary coming up soon,” Mia gushes. “What about you and Santi?”

You and Santiago look at each other in somewhat of a panic, then you both start to laugh, just as your drinks are being brought before you.

“We’re not together,” you laugh. “Nope. Not a chance. No. No, no, no.”

“Four no’s? Really?” Santiago asks. “Punch me in the face, it’ll hurt less.”

You pat him gently on the arm, which steals a smile from him.

“I’m sorry,” Mia apologizes. “I heard about you and the other guy from the group and I assumed—“

“No, no.”

“That’s—not me.”

Silence intervenes again, with Benny clearing his throat out loud, thus capturing everyone’s attention as he leans in to whisper to Mia, “No, that wasn’t Santiago, that was… Frankie.”

“Oh, that’s right, Frankie!”

“Okay, let’s clear the air. I had a fallout with Frankie ten years ago, and we haven’t spoken since, but that’s about it. No need to walk on eggshells around me, no need to act like his name is some ancient-long curse that cannot be spoken out loud. It’s okay.”

“Dully noted,” Benny says, sipping from his beer. “So what was his excuse for tonight?”

Everyone turns to Santiago, expecting an answer, with the exception of you. You slowly nurse your wine, finding the table cloth much more interesting than pretending to care about that man.

Except you still do, and it’s tearing you inside in ways you could never even describe.

“Something about building furniture, I guess,” Santiago finally replies. “He’s been quite into remodeling lately.”

“Oh, cause of—“

“Benny.”

Will’s voice is firm, yet low and menacing enough for his little brother to receive the message. But of course, that only captures your curiosity and interest alike, raising more questions rather than silencing them.

“Because of what?”

“We haven’t told him you’re back in town yet,” Will announces, seemingly taking it upon himself to be the spokesperson. “We weren’t sure if you wanted to tell him either.”

“That’s okay,” you say. “I know this is a bit awkward and uncomfortable, but… it’ll be fine.”

“Doubt it,” Benny whispers strictly to Emily, who playfully slaps his shoulder.

“We’re gonna run into each other at some point and we’re gonna have to talk. But until then, I just want to celebrate my return with my dearest friends.”

“Here, here!”

The sound of glasses clinking fills the salon and you all emerge into conversations over dinner. You immediately bond with the girls, discovering more and more about them, and thinking how perfect they are for their respective partners. Then again, either of the Miller brothers would be a great catch.

“So what really brings you back here?” Mia asks you after a while.

“I scored a position as editor at a publication in town. I’ve done business and everything related to it, but I’ve always loved writing, so when this came up… I couldn’t pass it. Especially since it’s in my hometown.”

“I think it’s so great you’re back,” Emily says with a fond smile. “Your whole life is here, your family and friends… you’re living your dream, basically!”

“Almost, yes.”

You don’t tell them how you’re always going to miss a piece of yourself from this very town.

You don’t tell them how much you missed and loathed this place at the same time.

You don’t tell them how you’ve felt incomplete for years, bruised and deceived, unfairly so.

Instead, you finish your meal and your wine and excuse yourself to go to the restroom, trying to organize your thoughts and not let them spiral out of control.

But that takes a turn for the worst.

You freeze on your way to the restroom, in the middle of the restaurant. The face you’re met with is unmistakable, both that of a ghost and of a friend. You can practically feel the color draining from your face and your limbs going cold. You can’t move; you feel frozen in space and time, like there is nothing but the two of you and like no time has passed, but also like an eternity did. Every contradictory sensation you could possibly fathom, it’s right there in your body, swallowing you whole.

Then, a whisper of your name brings you back to earth. Completely shook, you can only murmur one word. The one word you’ve tried so hard to forget.

“Frankie.”

#frankie morales #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x you #frankie morales fanfiction #frankie morales fic #frankie morales angst #francisco morales #francisco morales x reader #francisco morales x you #francisco morales fanfiction #francisco morales fic #triple frontier fanfiction #triple frontier fic #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal fic #sweet lies series

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soullesserror · 7 months

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That was so incredible. WARNING!!! THIS IS GONNA BE A LONG APPRECIATION POST WITH A FEW GRAMMAR AND SPELLING MISTAKES BECAUSE IT IS LATE BUT SOOO MANY THOUGHTS!!! Also kind of a few character studies?? I guess?? YEah. I just need to get it out while it's still fresh.

I'm so impressed with all of them and the way Cellbit described stuff and all the different sounds he made?? absolutely nerve wrecking. The deaths were so like.. made my heart beat so so fast and the monster chases??? All the different npcs with different vibes to them he captured them so well. I love all the little references to the qsmp. I love the fact he included fitmc and his egg child. I'm so sad that he killed fitmc and his egg child.

They way Baghera roleplayed Lucie and how Lucie changed from hating this little brat and calling her that, and then changing it from a mean nickname to one of endearment, saying that Emi is the best for bringing the keycard but she needs to shut up. The way she gave her life for Emi, and she probably would've even if Carol didn't sabotage Emi. When she was dragged away and dying, all she could think about is that she was alone. That she was a failure. Her very last thoughts before she died were its not fair, but this is it. And it wasn't fair. She died alone. She was killed just for the thrill of it.

It was so cool the way Quackity laughed when Lucie died. The roleplaying was just so.. Chef's kiss. It changed Benito. It changed the way he saw Emi and yeah, he said he would help kill that child but seeing someone else doing that, it made him change his mindset. He never liked Carol, and seein her wanting this CHILD Lucie sacrificed herself for dead made him utterly pissed off, and he made sure that he would protect Emi. In the end, he says to himself that he started as an angry and cynical person who cared for no one. He said to himself that he will continue to be like that, but he has someone he needs to care for now and protect, because he will not let Lucie die in vain.

And the way Bagi roleplayed too?? I did NOT like Carol or trust her, she was so sus but oh my god Bagi is incredible. She was so in character, and Carol was so sure what she was doing was the right thing. She knew all of them were infected, and that meant they would need to die because if she lets them live she won't protect the world. But she wasn't there from the start. She wasn't there to form a bond with these people, and she focused her energy on killing a child, and in the end that's what got her killed. I almost wish she had lived longer, just to see what more there was to her. She was interesting narrivately, and I love that.

AND GOD. PAC. Pac was absolutely gut wrenching to look at after Diego heard about Lucie's death, just moment's before laughing with Jeffrey and being healed by him, only to hear that his best friend, likely for years, had been dragged away and killed by a beast, and it was to save a child he didn't even like. His first reaction was to deny it, even if the beast was right above them and he was so loud that it just.. GOIUGH. Pac's expression for the most part after that was zoned out, empty and like there was nothing to live for anymore. After Benito's speech about Lucie living on in Emi, he probably decided that Emi needs to live on. For Lucie. Like Benito said. Diego offers his everything for the people he loves. And he loved Lucie, it doesn't matter what KIND of love, but it was so important. And Pac captured that so incredibly well. ALSO LIKE. THE WAY HE SAID "She must've been terrified" MY HEART.

OUGH FOOLISH. His expressions. His noises. All the little things. He was soo in character. Jeffrey is a coward, and maybe it's more of an unknown trauma response to what happened to him before. Needing to run because he won't survive otherwise. His pep talk to Diego was that he [Diego] needs to bottle up his feelings for now, because otherwise he won't survive, but when they get out of this he can cry and they can get therapy. He's not telling Diego to keep it bottled up, but to seek out help. He throws a bunch of stuff, and in the end that's what saved them. He kept his phone and that moment!! That moment when Foolish said that he throws his phone at Mikael, I reacted the same way as Cellbit. Gasping, mouth open, jaw ON. THE. FLOOR. It was incredible.

AND EMI. She was broken. She saw her dad's infected body and she promised she would find a cure for him. She stayed with Lucie, held her hand until they had to split up and she was forced to stay with this boring guy that the only adult she liked didn't trust, and they were saying they didn't want her to stay there, but she would be safe if she did. Then, she finds this keycard, and her first instinct is to leave this boring guy and find Lucie. She does. And Lucie calls her the best for finding the keycard. And then, even if she doesn't realize it, she alerted the creature who chased her and Lucie, and this stupid doctor and new person who she does not know at all, down. This new stranger tries to offer her to the beast and Lucie sacrifices herself for Emi. Emi's only response was "She was the one I liked" I know some people were saying that she didn't act like a teenage girl (or like a 11/12 year old?) but she did!! I was talking to someone in dms and we were freaking out and he works with kids and I know teenagers. They are that sassy. They swear, and they absolutely swear a lot if they learned english from youtube or the internet, and being Brazilian I am simply assuming that's where Emi learnt it from. Cellbit did so well, and Emi also went through a LOT of traumatic events in such a short span of time. After Lucie died, she immidately latched onto Benito and never let go of his hand. And I don't think she will for a while.

Mikael sucked but also I kinda understood him in the end, but it also turned out he was wrong. That creature wasn't one of a kind, but he never got to know that. I don't have much to say about him because he was so sketch and just like. fuck that guy

i want more of this. so much more.

I KEEP ADDING ONTO THIS POST BUT OH MY GOD I AM APPLAUDING THE PEOPLE BEHIND THE SCENES. SO SO COOL. ALL THE ARTISTS AND THE PEOPLE HELPING CELLBIT WITH EVERYTHING WAS SO COOL. THANKY OU SO MUCH EVERYONE IN THE CREDITS

#opq #child death mention #opq diego #opq lucie #opq emi #opq luis #opq jeffrey #opq benito #cellbit #opq carol #i could tag this with qsmp but i will not

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igotanidea · 1 year

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It was worth it :Dick Grayson x f!reader

Massive thanks to @pinkcherryblossom18 for letting me use her idea for this story: Titans!Dick who unexpectedly shows up at his old friend house to seek help for Rachel, even though he knows how pissed said friend is going to be at him. So, the girl is just spending the day with her adoptive mother, Selina Kyle, planning on doing sth fun when someone knocks on the door. And even after being welcomed in a vigilante/villain style, Dick still thinks it was worth showing at reader's doorstep.

“So…..” Selina started stretching her arms lazily and leaning back on the couch, crossing her legs

“So what?” the younger girl, her not-so-official adoptive daughter rolled her eyes trying not to show how annoyed she was

“So, I was thinking about a little bit of a mother-daughter time would be fun….”

“You’re not my mother.” The girl pointed out. They may not have been related, but during the years Selina Kyle raised Y/N Y/L/N the latter took a lot from her. Teasing and playing around was definitely one of those traits. “But I’m listening. Honestly, it’s getting boring living in this hell hole. God, I miss Gotham sometimes.”

“From what I can tell you keep yourself rather busy” Selina leaned down and grabbed one of the stray cats Y/N was taking care of, absentmindedly starting to rub its fur, much to the animal’s delight “Such a cutie” she purred at it “though I miss this freaking city too. Sometimes.”

“Let me guess why” the girl smirked “I bet it’s because of one particular Gotham vigilante…”

“Watch your tongue, dear. Such insinuations are way beyond your level. I taught you better.”

“Yeah, yeah you did. No matter how hard I try I always get back to the old ways.”

“Call it instinct, honey.” Selina flashed a smile and fluttered her eyelashes.

“Oh, stop it. Can’t fool me with that trick” Y/N rolled her eyes again “Cut to the chase”

“You won’t let me have my fun, do you?” Selina sighed dramatically but soon turned back to her calculated self. “You know, there’s a new boutique on the 34th. We can go full fashion. My wardrobe really need some renewal and judging from your T-shirt, yours as well.”

“What’s wrong with it?” Y/N took a quick glance at her hoodie and tilted her head. “besides all the cut fur, of course.”

“Oh, honey….” Selina sighed “I’m gone for what? Two weeks….”

“Two months.” The girl corrected crossing her arms

“And you’re already turning into someone …. Ordinary. Such a shame. I really need to get you back in shape. What do you say? A little shopping spree. Don’t you miss that thrill?” she smiled and a few flashbacks run through Y/N’s head. One of them of how one night when she and Selina were running the streets after one particularly good action and surprisingly were stopped by two male-counterparts. But. Putting that aside, Y/N did miss some action and night blood rush. The cold night air on her face as she was jumping from one rooftop to another. The chills and adrenaline when she was flexing and doing her most crazy acrobatic shit. The act she put on while flirting with whoever could her to the object of interest, pretending to be innocent and gullible only to show her mastermind and perfect plan behind all of this. She was smart, she was shrewd, fast-think and ….. lazy. As much as she hated to admit it, moving out and being left all by herself made her…. Unwilling. Selina was right. It was such a shame that of late her abilities were going to waste.

“What’s going on in that head of yours?” Selina asked a bit worried about her protégé.

“Nothing” the girl shook her head “But….. can I ask you a question?”

“I don’t need to answer, right?”

“Actually, I would like you to answer. Please” Y/N looked at Selina with pleading, honest and sad expression and it moved something inside the Catwoman’s heart.

“All right. Don’t make me go all soft on you.” she hissed covering all the feelings raising in her chest. Despite everything, she treated Y/n as a daughter (or maybe younger sister, since thinking of herself as mother made her feel old. “What is it?”

“How do you still find all of it funny and thrilling?”

“I’m sorry?”

“You know. For me, the best part wasn;t the fact that we… I…. was doing something forbidden. It was rather the part of being chased. And sometimes, getting caught. And… you know…..” Y/n’s cheeks were now a bit flushed and Selina knew exactly what, or rather who she was referring to.

“Oh, honey. You really do need something to get your mind off things” she gently caressed girl’s face. “you reminiscence too much and that is no good. We’re going tonight. Hope you can still use that charm of yours.”

“Right” Y/N looked down. “I…..” before she could say a thing she was cut off by a firm knock on the door “Sorry, let me just check who intend on ruining my evening.”

Unwillingly she stood up from the couch and with a couple quiet long steps opened the door.

“I’m not interested in whatever you are selling so leave …. Oh, shit…..”

“Hi Y/N” the young man on the other side smiled lightly and awkwardly.

“No.” Y/N was quick to reach the frame and shut the door close. What the hell!? What was he doing here?! It’s been what? Three years? Three years since his titans team fell apart and he rushed away from everything he knew, her included. Three years of radio silence on his part (well, she did not reach for him either, but still it was his fault since he was the one who disappeared without a trace). Shit! And now he was standing by her door and she was wearing an old hoodie and stretched pants. Her hair were a mess and she still had that freaking pelage everywhere. Damn it! Her heart was pounding like crazy, blood rushing straight to her head. Even after all those years, he had such an effect on her. Groaning in annoyance she leaned her back on the door, praying he would just go away.

“Who is it?” Selina emerged from the room with her most hypnotizing stride “Definitely someone worth attention if you’re left like this.” She chuckled

“Dick Grayson” Y/N smiled viciously watching Selina’s expression drop

“Is he….?”

“From what I can tell he’s alone, but who knows?” the girl shrugged “You know the bats, they lurk in the shadows.”

“Fuck. “ Selina cussed “This is not how I planned on this day to go.”

“You think I wanted this?!” Y/N scoffed

“Well, you mentioned something about missing being chased…..”

“Oh, shut up!” the girl finally let her rage go. “Sorry.” She chucked “I know the rules. Play it cool. Play it nice.”

“Precisely. You did it so many times before, what’s one more. Deal with it fast and I’ll meet you on our rooftop at 10 p.m.” she patted girl’s cheek in a condescending manner. “Don’t let me down.” And with such words she slipped through the open window.

“Don’t let me down.” Y/N mocked sticking her tongue out in a child-like behavior. “Whatever you say, mother. Coward. Running away because the bat may be on her track.” She muttered to herself.

“Y/N. Please, open the door. I need your help.”

“You need my help, now, huh?” once again she opened the door abruptly, standing face to face with her old (more than) friend. “How about I give you a hand?” she raised an arm in attempt to slap him, but he was faster and grabbed her wrist. She did not falter as she used another hand, that reached the destination and with a loud snap met with his cheek.

“Ouch.” He hissed and let go of her arm.

“You deserved that! Three years, Grayson! Three fuckign years and now you just appear out of thin air with….. a child?”

“Y/N, meet Rachel. She’s ….. she has some powers….. Can we come inside so I will explain it further?”

“No.” Y/N took a step to the right blocking the entrance.

“Y/N. I’m begging you…..”

“Well that is a new thing…..”

“Don’t make a scene.”

“And why not exactly?” she pondered. “Because you are afraid of being embarrassed in front of…..” she hang the sentence waiting for them to remind her the name of the girl

“Rachel” the youngest of the three helped

“Right. Rachel. Sorry for that little display, bet your friend Dick did not mention who I am.”

“Not…. exactly….”

“Oh, okey. Well, long story short, we used to be….. frankly, I don’t even know how to describe our relationship….”

“Y/N…..” Dick sighed, his face still red from the slap. Y/N was definitely stronger than she looked at first sight.

“I am talking now.” Her face was now filled with rage and it made her look so powerful and fierce the boy shut his mouth instantly, suddenly being reminded why he fell for her so easily in the past. She was a force not to play with, but on the other side she had this soft side, only a few people knew how to reach.

“I already like her” Rachel smiled.

“Y/N look, she has nowhere to go. Her mother was shot, she never knew her father and I know you know how that feels……”

“I…..” she dropped her gaze. He knew exactly where to hit. The point was, she really did know the feeling. Her parents abandoned her when she was barely 9. For four years she was running around foster homes, never really wanted, tossed like a used glove, never really taken care of, until Selina saw something more to her and took her in, and trained her and showed her something better in life. “I hate you, Grayson. Now, get in, both of you.” she pulled her unexpected visitors into the narrow hallway. “You can go wait in the living room, pet the cats or whatever. They are not as predatory as they seem.”

“Just like someone else I know” Dick smiled at Y/N when Rachel left.

“Stop it.”

“What?”

“You know what. Why did you come to me? Why not any of your Titans friend? Donna? Dawn? Hell, even Hank would be better choice than me.”

“No.”

“What?”

“They wouldn’t . They don’t really know how it feels like to be raised without parents. You and I. We do. And you have a thing for stray living beings.”

“I ….. I don’t…..” she snorted with disgust but couldn’t hide the fact that only a second later she was checking out what Rachel was doing, making sure the girl was all right “I’m not like that….”

“You are. Even if you don’t want to admit it. I know you.”

“You knew me years ago. How do you know I did not change for worse?”

“I know.”

“Ok, I’m gonna ask you again” she punched his chest only to get some of the accumulated energy out “why. The hell. Are. YOU. here? And how did you even find me!?”

“I missed you.” he confessed

“Oh, hell no! I’m not falling for that. Our parents followed that path and look where it got them. I’m not making the same mistake. I can take the girl in and that is all. I want nothing to do with you. Not after….. after everything…..”

“I made a mistake, all right? I never should have….”

“Shut up! Just shut up! I don’t want to hear you!” she covered her ears not wanting to let him sweet talk her “ I’m over you, don’t you understand that. I never wanted you to come back and haunt me and …..DAMN IT!” out of frustration she started throwing punches. The kind of kicks he could have easily dodged, but didn’t “why don’t you just fight back?!” she hissed and finally her fist met with his jaw, taking them both by surprise.

“Selina would be proud of you.” Dick muttered making sure his maxilla wasn’t dislocated.

“Don’t think so. It’s hard to impress people who take their alter-ego from an animal. You know that” he nodded taking a deep breath “If anything she would be disappointed I lost control like that. Does it…. Does it hurt much?”

“See. Soft spot. Told you.” Dick smiled widely and immediately hissed in pain

“Do you want another, symmetric punch on the other side.”

“It was still worth it, you know. Coming here. Seeing you. I meant what I said, I really did miss you.”

“If you keep running your mouth I’m gonna kick you in the groin.”

“Ok, all right. I’ll stop. You really did not change a thing.”

“I hate you. Now, tell me what is wrong with that demonic child you decided to put on my shoulders.”

@pinksirensong @somest1

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hanayumi · 1 year

Text

𝐛𝐚𝐥𝐥-𝐣𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐝

— bonten! sano manjirou x fem!reader x sanzu haruchiyo

part 1.5 of brittle to the bone || prev.

a prelude to your time with the man masquerading himself as your ‘guardian’.

wc. 3.5k

tags breathplay, toxic/unhealthy relationship dynamics, implied drug abuse, yandere undertones, haruchiyo pov, sfw

notes i really have no words except take this *drops the fic in your hands*

snapshot ;

It’s alien. Intangible. And as if bringing to light something that’d been kicking at the edges of his consciousness for a long long time, hinting at something his thought process was but a little slower to grasp, all at once Haurchiyo's brain flashes with the lingering memories of that same intimacy.

That tacit understanding. That silent obedience. Is it love that hides behind the way Mikey touches you when he thinks no one is looking — gently, like a lover, so different from the way he always does? At times commanding, as if bending you to his will (though he doubts you had any in the first place) — is it the way that, despite everything, you still come at his beck and call, ready to slide your arms around him at a moment’s notice even as your legs are trembling like they’re about to give out?

As far as Haruchiyo is concerned, Mikey has always been like this. Always stoic, always tip-toeing between the inconspicuous realm of boredom and apathy, and so little did he reveal his innermost thoughts. No one could ever dissect what was going on in his boss’ mind. He was unreadable to the point where it became his own trademark, with hands capable of far more violence than any of his subordinates combined. Perhaps in that invincible, impenetrable nature does Haruchiyo find solidarity: there is no one like Sano Manjirou.

But if there’s one thing that Haruchiyo has in common with his boss, it’s that it’s a losing battle to keep them listening during meetings. Frankly, if he were to be speaking facts, no one aside from Takeomi and Kokonoi bothers to pay attention. Who could fucking care less about those bottom-feeders plundering chunks outta their cargo supplies? This building, its occupants— the arteries. Drugs, inhalants— the blood. He could, theoretically (speaking in Kokonoi’s breath), put everything into its place, restore this apparently ‘delicate balance’, within a moment's notice with that gleaming steak knife of his. If only, if only they’d let him.

Money, women, drugs. That’s nice and all, but that’s not really why he joined Bonten. (Well, he might choke on that last one.) No, never, Haruchiyo isn’t infamously known as the ‘Mad Dog’ for no reason. He is a cruel, mad dog. He revels in the thrilling chase and the dizzying catch — the first strike, the feel of warm, real blood soaking his talons, and the sick wicked delight of toying with the limits of human endurance — and, guess what? He got none of that within the frigid meeting room.

What did he get instead?

Instead he got a mystery. One that eats away at him like maggots from the inside with every painstaking day. And the more he sees you, the more he is forced to remember this fact, forced to regurgitate it like a cow chewing on blades of rubber grass. Day after day after day after fucking day.

Because you were always there, your presence accompanying them more times than he can count (to serve entertainment on the side, he thought at first, except you did more than that. You distracted him. You kept his eyes on you. And you somehow chewed your doll-faced, mouselike way into his boss’ heart).

And the thought persists long after each and every meeting, sinks paranoia under his skin like pinpricks and suckerpunches to his gut; like the arctic chill circulating in the meeting room, penetrating through layers of clothing made for this sole purpose (because, he supposes, Mikey is so thick-skinned that even air-conditioning toils to have an effect on him).

He bided his time. He waited, patiently, just as his King filed out order after order — kill them, torture them for information, find out more about them, kill them…

But the order never came. It was never ‘kill her’.

(But what’s worse? That his King is taking an awfully long time to get rid of his plaything, or that said plaything can’t help but intrude his thoughts at every given moment? Desecrate his plane of thought like you had more power than everyone gave you credit for? Feeding into his horrible addiction and piercing his brain with images of herself — whimpering and snivelling, legs so shaky and fragile like a newborn foal, damp bottom lashes glued to her skin, and if he squinted he could see fresh tears brimming at the edges, eyes filming over like liquid glass — stop.)

He sighs and tosses a tiny, familiar oval-shaped object down his throat — one to last him the rest of the hour and half the bottle for the rest of the day — swallowing it dry with an exaggerated gulp. One after another, it’s almost like candy at this point. If he tries hard enough he’ll remember a time when he found salvation beyond this drug-induced haze, but at some point he stopped caring. Stopped reading the labels and recommended dosages. (Why bother? Why bother looking through the haze when he has a job to do? Especially, especially one that involves getting the answers he so desires.)

Fingernails tap a broken rhythm on the glass of a clattering pill bottle, slow and steady, like the eerie thrum of a premonition. A finely-pressed suit, dyed a deep violet with gold embroidery branching out in elegant water lilies — worn with pride by a gentleman who has known nothing but to stain it with savage killing. His elbow is propped up against the wall, and his emerald-toned gaze teeters back and forth between the other two occupants of the room. Tiredly, boorishly.

He’s tired of waiting.

Actually, more than that — he’s tired of so many things grating on his thinly-stretched patience. (He is not a man known for his patience.)

Today’s the big day. Mikey hasn’t said a word since Haruchiyo was called up to the penthouse. The top level has always been sacred — reserved for him and only him — but it’s no place that Haruchiyo hasn’t been in once or twice. Sometimes he simply sought orders in person or felt like snooping around. There was never anything of interest, though (well, nothing except you).

He fastens his eyes on you warily, keeping a reasonable distance and not making a move in fear of upsetting Mikey. Staring too much or showing remotely any interest in you always seemed a surefire way to set him off. It’s hard to believe that Takeomi was able to convince him to let you stay behind. Especially with himself, of all people. (Not that Haruchiyo thinks he’ll do a bad job. Far from that, actually; if Mikey told him to sit and stay he would do just that even if hail the size of a planet came hurtling down to earth.) He’s surprised, but he knows it isn’t like Mikey not to think ahead… perhaps, his boss has finally realised that you don’t need to be babysat like a fucking toddler.

But even toddlers have a mind of their own. Haruchiyo frowns when he looks at you, all jittery and silent, albeit for a different reason than him. You're waiting obediently by the door as Mikey throws his coat over his shoulders. He grabs his gun, his cigarettes (since when did he smoke?), his cellphone… Everything he does is agonisingly slow — every action deliberately calculated as if his brain was rewired to take the slowest route possible to the sleek black car waiting in the lobby. There must be something compelling his boss to stay, because no sooner when his hand touches the doorknob does he hesitate as it slips back down to his side.

Not again.

Haruchiyo’s chest heaves, puffs out by an inch as he gets ready to breathe a huge, exaggerated sigh — he sighs a lot these days — only for it to catch in his throat.

Mikey is hugging you.

Something does not click in him, does not register. Like a severed connection, Haruchiyo is made acutely aware that an anomaly has caused his systems to lock up and sizzle into haywire at the scene before him. Something is wrong here.

An indescribable sentimentality comes through in the way Mikey’s arms lock around you like a cage. Engulfing, territorial, as if he were trying to swallow you whole; and if Haruchiyo could see his face right now he is sure his boss would be drilling holes into his skull just for staring. Stop looking. He’s gonna get mad. But the amazement — as amusing as it is that Haruchiyo can even feel such an emotion — overpowers his obedience, when not a second later your arms come to creep around Mikey’s waist. Melding yourself into his chest, almost instinctively, as if it’d shield you from the harshness of what he’s become. Haruchiyo is almost convinced, from the compliance bleeding through your actions, that you’ve been doing this for a long time.

And, try as he might, he can’t tear his eyes away from the quiver in your bottom lip as you meet his single bewildered gaze from across the room, almost looking as if you wanted him to save you — looking like a tender lamb collected whole within the jaws of a lion. A fraction of a second, a near imperceptible intensity of emotion, and then you’re sliding your face into the side of Mikey’s neck, the subdued tremor of your shoulders the only evidence of your breathing. Everything looks of the frozen stillness of death; a snapshot taken in a graveyard, the headstone masquerading as Greek statues of lovers holding each other in death — in eternity, in life, being unable to part.

Mikey silently digs his palm into the back of your head, the small action nudging you deeper into his embrace as if the proximity wasn’t enough, never enough, and Haruchiyo feels his mouth going desert dry. Nothing makes sense. You, your presence, Mikey’s attachment to you — nothing fits together, it’s all a fucking mystery, just like the mismatched pieces of a jigsaw puzzle. (And now, it is as if he’s the toddler sitting hunched over children’s toys manufactured wrong, the miniature pieces fundamentally made to jut and protest against each other.)

He can’t understand.

It’s alien. Intangible. And as if bringing to light something that’d been kicking at the edges of his consciousness for a long long time, hinting at something his thought process was but a little slower to grasp, all at once Haruchiyo's brain flashes with lingering memories of that same intimacy.

Haruchiyo is stiff as a frozen lake, but his gut stirs with unease (why?), and for a second he wonders when exactly he became so observant to anyone besides himself and his King.

His eyes settle arbitrarily on exposed skin; it’s your neck. The same neck that Mikey now has his hand wrapped around, with the same palm that was but a split second ago caressing the back of your head. His bony fingers press deep into the skin, not hard enough to form bruises, but hard enough to aggravate the existing ones and pry a mousy noise out of you.

(How does it taste, to have the king of Bonten cradling you in his arms as if the world could collapse on you at any second? And in the next minute, have his hand around your neck, the pressure just short of suffocating you, tightening ever so slowly?)

Not that good, he supposes, because from the sounds you’re making (the choked whimpers) he’s sure that you’re terrified.

“Be good.”

Mikey’s voice drags through the silence like a thin dagger. Unsympathetic. Cold.

Haruchiyo’s eyes dart away from your neck to stare at his own hand — for some reason, it’s shaking. His breath is coming out in shallow patterns, but no one except himself seems to notice. It’s almost as if he were invisible, a ghost, like you could break free of Mikey’s grip and run straight past him.

The grip on your neck tightens taut. Haruchiyo imagines the veins that pulsate beneath Mikey’s skin, the blood, the resistance. An arm twists like a leash around your waist; you panic. You mouth half his name in confusion, but it’s difficult to speak when your airways are restricted, the second half teetering into a whimper as if your voice burnt off your tongue. You put your little hands over his, sliding underneath the gaps of his fingers in an attempt to loosen them. Pathetic, choked squeals gradually increase in volume, and Haruchiyo starts to feel his own breathing stutter, and he has to start holding his breath for fear of making his presence known.

Is this it? Is this where it ends? He has his hand on your neck, Haruchiyo swallows. You’re fragile. You will die. You will snap.

But before that— before the unthinkable happens— Mikey will decide to stop. He always does. That’s right, he always does.

The palm recoils, drops, retreats back into Mikey’s shadow, allowing you enough leeway to suck oxygen down your throat. He watches on wordlessly as you still clasp your hands feebly around his for balance, amidst jagged breathing, amidst wobbling legs.

It’s then that Haruchiyo sees them. Sees the grisly purplish swirls and bite marks decorating your neck like a collar, disappearing into the thin sheet of your nightdress where he knows there must be more. Deep violet mirroring the silk-like fabric of his clothing, replicated and imprinted onto once unmarred skin; looking at you makes him think of flowers trampled underfoot. Callously bestowed, deliberate bruises that Mikey lets you parade around in, worn like a brand. A mark of ownership. Oh, my—is that what this is? A show? A display of his King’s indisputable, iron-clad authority? Haruchiyo stifles a shudder.

Mockingly similar to reaching for a kiss, Mikey leans in, his lips hovering over the shell of your ear, whispering something too soft for Haruchiyo to hear that has you freezing on the spot. Your panting breaths almost halt momentarily. He waits for your reply, a tiny little nod, after which your eyes fly downcast, mouth still parted slightly with any possible parting words left unsaid… and Haruchiyo discovers that he is just the least bit disappointed. Empathy has never been his strong suit — never had to use it, let alone learn it. He wishes he could break free of this trance and ask you: how does it feel, to be the only woman that Mikey could treat with such gentleness?

The only one.

His jaw stiffens. Somehow, the bottle in his hands has grown slick with his sweat. Somehow, his adrenaline levels have spiked from watching his King put his hands around your throat.

Mikey’s dark shadow retreats from your face when he pulls away. Beige, watered-down sunlight filters in despite the drawn blinds and bounces off the walls, flicking a certain light grey sheen over his hair when he takes a few steps. He brushes past you without a second look, drifting like the afterimage of a phantom, before he pauses. His head cocks back just at the mouth of the entryway, empty stare boring right into Haruchiyo.

(So he had noticed his presence.)

That abyssal black — that bottomless pit of emptiness. Bare-bones sin that Mikey is on his way to commit. This is what you come close to every day. This stare. All Haruchiyo can do in the face of this radiating bloodlust is incline his head in a nod. And his King is quick to fade from view, having faintly acknowledged his second-in-command. The thudding of his steps — thump, thump — reverberate as if he were treading in a black swamp.

You don’t move, don’t break free from your position where he left you, and Haruchiyo doesn’t make a move either, as if the both of you suffered under the after-effects of the same spiritual possession. Until you hear the sound of the elevator dinging amidst pin-drop silence. Slowly, as if thawing out every inch of your ball-jointed body, your figure comes back to life, all in front of his eyes: ruby-scented lifeblood flowing back into the steep crevices of your fingers, your arms, your legs, your head which turns just a sliver of a fraction —

Only to turn stiff as ice when you’re met with him in your way.

Haruchiyo can plainly see how your natural instinct to bolt like a foal kicks in, dousing your body in a bonfire’s blaze — as if a switch was flipped in your head, detaching you from the perfect doll with a thousand-mile stare. An olive gaze burns into the glittering fear reflected in your wide eyes, the widest he has ever seen them to date. He takes a step forward. Then another.

They’re even more enticing up close, he realises. Pretty.

Are they as watery as they look?

If he reaches out he thinks he can juuust about graze the spinning globes in your eye sockets. And, fully intending to test this theory, his fingertips start to raise, almost like marionette strings tied to his instinct — inching and inching, closer and closer. But true to your own instinct you recoil in abject fear, backtracking only for your back to hit against the wall, your little half-squeak sending him hurtling back to reality and blinking twice and… oh. Well. Would you just look at that?

A curious smile upturns his lips; he’s got you cornered without trying. No fun, you’re no fun. He toys with the imagination of what you see with those doe eyes so big with terror — eyes that played witness to so many impromptu executions within the pristine conference room, eyes that bored into his sleep where he could only dream of tarnishing a beauty so unknown to him. But now you’re alone. It’s just you, him, and the sun straining through opaque blinds.

What do you see? A monster? A killer?

He can’t blame you.

“I’m sorry, I-I just, um,” you stammer, your throat bobbing as you swallow — a toddler’s first words? You’re on the floor now, soundlessly yearning to escape from him as far as you can because that look in his eyes cannot mean anything good. Your lips that parted just enough to let those few words slip into the tense silence remain agape, as if you were on the verge of pleading for him to spare your life. Your fingers twist in the material of your sleep shirt, clinging to the cotton, slowly retreating into yourself like a small mouse.

A giddy excitement shoots through his veins. He straightens his back and pops his joints, making a show of stretching the muscles that’ve gone stiff from waiting, the action accompanying a shuddery chuckle. Ah. There’s something innate about you that rouses sympathy from others. If he decides to scare you a little… he doubts it’ll take much work before you’re on your knees shaking.

The scarce luminescence in the room tumbles and shifts like the different stages of limbo. He continues to hold your gaze, admiring how your pupils reflect the light. A hand extends to you and you flinch fiercely, immediately, much to his amusement. “Hey hey hey, what’s wrong? No need to be afraid,” he coos, crouching down to your height, studying your shivering form. “It’s just me, little bunny. I don’t believe I’ve properly introduced myself.”

He feels the effects of the drug start to kick in, the sluggish blurring of his conscience, but more than that he feels the beginning of an urge to press his thumb into your eye socket. “It’s really such a shame, seeing how long we’ve known each other.”

It’s going to be fun— it’s going to be delightful, he decides. A delightful little side-project while his king is off setting things straight. By the time Mikey returns, he wants to have his fill of satisfaction. Of contentment. Life has been so damn stale as of late; nothing about tormenting glitzy prostitutes rings the bell of happiness in him anymore. Mikey will probably kill me, he turns over this thought in his mind, frowning, and decides he wants to live just a little longer — so, sadly, anything fatal will have to be put aside for now.

Just for good measure, just to show respect to the wicked plan solidifying in his head, he reaches for your hand (because it’s not like you’ll willingly offer it to him, right?). He curls the tiny little thing into his own palm, beginning to feel your pulse through a thin muscle in your hands, the rapid thudthudthuds pulsating like a tiny animal fighting to preserve its life. A single word surfaces in his mind: soft. Your hands are soft, tender, just like fondling translucent silk. Huh.

A little life in his hands.

“Bonten’s number two. Sanzu Haruchiyo. You’re in good hands.”

Oh, but truthfully, in everything he does, Haruchiyo tends to overdo it. If not by a teaspoon, then by an enormous handful — an avalanche, even.

#tw yandere #tw breath play #yandere tokyo revengers #tw choking #tokyo rev x reader #mikey x reader #yandere haruchiyo sanzu #haruchiyo x reader #yandere sanzu #chiyu; dark

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