#the others hang out on the standing feeder but not this one. he stays at the edges of the pigeon flock(s) and forages for seed

[magistralucis]

#jackdaw #birds #corvid #cute #good morning 🌻🌻🌻 #so i have discovered in regards to our jackdaws #that unlike many of the other birds that visit our garden... these critters are Smart™ #not that our pigeons and sidney's family are not smart ofc. but the jackdaws fundamentally understand mankind cannot be trusted 🤣😭🤪 #maybe it's because they aren't tame yet? they don't fear us but they are wary of me hovering with the camera and will fly away #to the extent they recognize when we're nearing the windows for any reason by watching our shadows behind the curtain 🤣 #tl;dr this is the only jackdaw i've managed to take video of at length because he feeds with the pigeons on the ground #the others hang out on the standing feeder but not this one. he stays at the edges of the pigeon flock(s) and forages for seed #ryzhik hates him 🤦‍♀️ if he goes near ryzhik rushes in and tries to drive him off #but he continues to stick around. this was him after the pigeon flock had left and he was eating all the leftovers #a canny eyed creature)) #that's our newest garden drama. i hope to return with more exciting jackdaw vids sooner rather than later 😄 #may your sunday be a good one my friend! 💖💖💖💖💖

[momotonescreaming]

Teenage Dream - Part 5

AKA - the Jeff and Eddie have crushes on jocks series Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four

“Jeff!” Eddie shouted, voice raised over the roar of the cars entering the student car park. Jeff whipped his head to look over at his friend, waving his arm from the other side of the car park, hanging out of the side of the van. “Dude!”

Vinnie gave him a look, raising a judgemental eyebrow in such a way that only middle schoolers could, as Eddie hollered for his attention. He was in no position to judge, Jeff’s met his friends.

Jeff sneered back, gently shoving at his brother’s shoulder, pushing him in the general direction of the middle school. “Move it, squirt, or you’ll be late.”

“As if,” Vinnie huffed, rolling his eyes, but walking off anyway. Brothers.

By the time Vinnie had left, Eddie was across the car park, leaning on the roof of Jeff’s old Ford. Keys in his hand, jingling against his rings. “He giving you shit?”

“When is he not?” Jeff replied, swinging his bag over his shoulder as he locked his car. Falling into step with Eddie, the pair walking in tandem towards the doors to Hawkins High. He found himself scanning the crowds, looking for Frank, or Gareth, or any of the Hellfire freshies. He found himself scanning for strawberry blonde hair, for blue eyes, for the familiar green of the cheerleader uniforms.

“He giving you shit about Chrissy,” Eddie sing songs, biting his lip and smiling as he nudges his shoulder against Jeff’s. He’s not shouting it from the rooftops, which is nice, but man, Eddie could stand to be a lot quieter. If anyone heard, Jeff was going to give Eddie a wedgie.

“Oh shut up,” Jeff replies, although he laughs as he shoves at Eddie back. “He doesn’t know and he’s not gonna.”

“Boo.” Eddie says, fake pouting. “That’s no fun.”

“You’re just saying that because you have no siblings,” Jeff replies, pushing open the doors and heading into the halls of Hawkins High. “Would you want someone in your house constantly giving you shit? I’m not giving them both any ammunition to be more annoying than they already are.”

“I mean,” Eddie starts, dragging out the word. “I have Wayne.”

“You told Uncle Wayne?” Jeff asks, brow furrowed as they manoeuvre through the halls to Eddie’s locker. He knew Eddie was out to Wayne — that it was part of the reason he was staying with Wayne and not his father (before he got shipped off to prison. But he didn’t think Eddie would openly admit his crush on Harrington to him like that. It would open a whole can of worms. Imply that there was something more. Something serious. If he was telling Wayne about it. It’s basically one step removed from meeting the parents. “About you and you-know-who?”

“Well no,” Eddie admits with a tilt of his head, swerving out of the way of a gaggle of sophomores, taking up the entire width of the hall. “But the old man can read me like a book. He knows things, I’m sure of it.”

Jeff snorts, leaning against the lockers as they stop at Eddie’s. Watching as he unlocks it, and sifts through the piles of shit he’s got in there. “You always say that about him, though. What makes this different?”

“He’s giving me looks, you know?” Eddie says into his locker, pulling out a ragged notebook and a stray textbook, before turning back to Jeff. “He’s figuring things out and he's going to be insufferable about it.”

Jeff snorts as Eddie shuts his locker, books in hand, as they head towards Jeff’s. They’ve still got time for once, normally Jeff heads to his locker alone, and Eddie arrives in a flurry later — speeding into the parking lot with a screech of his tyres. “Because your uncle has nothing better to do than speculate about your secret love life?”

“Exactly,” Eddie jokes, grinning back at Jeff. “But enough about me. Do you think you’ll meet her in your free period again?”

And thank god Eddie didn’t say her name, not here, surrounded by the teenage sharks of Hawkins. Any glimpse of vulnerability, something to exploit, the bottom feeders getting too big for their station — it was brutal.

“I’m not that lucky,” Jeff laughs, nudging Eddie’s side with his elbow.

“Wanna bet?” Eddie jokes, nudging Jeff’s side with his elbow. He’s biting his tongue to hold back his laughter.

“One’s enough thanks,” He replies. “And I am winning that one, by the way.”

“Oh eat shit Jeff,” Eddie laughs, before sobering dramatically, whirling around to face him. Continuing to walk down the hall at an angle, not looking where he’s going, Eddie continues. “But anyway, you can tell me how you wrong you are about you-know-who at band practice tonight.”

Jeff just rolls his eyes again, smiling, and heads to class.

—

There’s a buzzing, an itch, an anticipation, the second the bell rings and it’s Jeff’s free period. It bubbles up underneath his skin, threatening to break through, and nothing will quell it. Nothing except seeing her, or perhaps the confirmed absence of her presence.

He packs up his things, leaves the classroom, and heads towards the library. He has all his things — he can’t procrastinate by getting something from his locker. Plus, someone will absolutely try and steal his table if he does.

That’s his table, dammit.

So Jeff sighs — quietly, under his breath — and weaves through the halls to the library, hitching his bag further onto his shoulder. Eyes down, walking fast, avoiding the eye of any jock or jerk who might be lingering in the halls. It’s easier, when Hellfire is all together, a united force. It’s also easier with Eddie, acting larger than life, scary and dramatic — to scare the jocks away. Also helps that he’s the high school’s only dealer. If he cuts them off — and he will — then they’re fucked.

So he makes it to the library without incident — nodding a silent greeting to the librarian — before he weaves through the stacks to the shelf he needs. There’s a book he needs to check through for his English essay, and he’s reached the point where he’s stuck without it.

Bag hanging off one shoulder, weighing him down, making him feel more off kilter than normal — Jeff tilts his head as he reads through the spines of the books. Gently tabbing through them, pushing them aside with his fingers, trying desperately to ignore the swooping of his stomach. His wandering mind.

He’s not alone in the library, there are others wandering the shelves, claiming the tables, and Jeff absently watches them out of the corner of his eye. He doesn’t see any strawberry blonde hair, no cheerleader uniform, so he averts his gaze back to the stacks. Swallows his tongue.

Sighing — he tries to be quiet about it, so people don’t glare at him, so the librarian doesn’t shush him — and eventually finds his book. Slides it out of the shelf, tucks it under one arms, and weaves his way back to his table. Off to the side, near the back of the library, nice and quiet. Undisturbed, not like the tables in the centre, right by the librarians desk. There’s always chatter, always people, always large study groups. It was peaceful at his table, no one else usually came by, but Jeff couldn’t help but wish for company this time.

And it was like he had jinxed it.

Rounding the corner, Jeff looks over to find someone sitting at his table. Jolting in place, eyes wide, he finds a pair of clear blue eyes looking at his.

Chrissy shrugs, almost shrinking into herself as she gives him a little wave. Smiling shyly, cheeks flushing, as she looks at him from over the table. Sat in her seat from last time, leaving Jeff’s usual seat free, her books and papers spread out on her half of the table. Hair curled out of her face, pinned back with pale green pins. Her eyeshadow matches, because of course it does. It’s cute. She’s cute, as usual.

“Funny seeing you here,” Jeff jokes, smiling shyly back at Chrissy, heading closer so he can take his usual seat. Puts his book on the table, places his bag down at his feet, and slides into the chair.

“Hey Jeff,” She says, voice light, almost a giggle as she watches him from over the table. He likes the way his name sounds in her mouth, the way her tongue forms around it, shaping the sounds. Lips curling around the letters, pink and pert,  and shining with gloss. “Hope it’s okay I’m at your table. I was a little worried you weren’t gonna show up in time and wanted to save it for you.”

“That’s okay,” Jeff replies, smiling, feeling his heart flutter in his chest and butterflies swoop in his stomach. Was Chrissy waiting for him? Did she sit at his table so she could see him? Was he someone she wanted to take the time to see? He felt a little giddy, lost in the feeling, the delusion of it. The fantasy of being someone Chrissy wanted to see. “Thanks for saving it for me.”

“It was no worries,” Chrissy giggles, and he tries not to look at the subtle flush across her cheeks. “As long as you don’t mind a little company?”

“’Course not,” Jeff replies, trying to smother his own smile, not look too obvious. “It’s nice to have you.”

He watches as she bites her bottom lip, looks down at her notes, and then back up at Jeff, looking through her lashes. Coy, almost shy, tentative. Looks away himself, dragging his gaze away from hers, reaching down to get the rest of his things out of his bag. His notebook and pens, a worn copy of the book they’re supposed to be writing an essay on, dog-eared and sun-faded. Places it on the table next to the book from the stacks — from the same author, so he can do some fancy compare and contrasting that he knows the teacher is a sucker for.

Opens his notebook, finds his essay draft, and tries not to let his mind wander. To let his gaze find its way back to her like a magnet, pulled together inevitably. To find himself doodling love hearts on the page. So he finds his place, and tries to write. To let the ideas flow through him, seeping into the page along with the ink of his pen.

He lets the ticking of the clock fade into the background, with the hum of students going out their business, and the scratch of his pen on the page. The sound of Chrissy’s pen on the page. Actually gets some writing done, makes a solid dent in his English essay.

And so he lets himself drift for a second, sneak a glance at Chrissy — only to find her looking back. She curls into herself — shy, embarrassed, giggling — with a hand over her mouth to smother the sound. But she can’t stop looking at him. And he can’t stop looking at her back. Maybe he’s imagining it, but it feels like there’s something there. And if that something is only friendship, a fleeting crush — he’ll take it. He won’t push her for more than she’s willing to give. He’s lucky to get this much. Her sitting at his table, remembering his name, waiting for him.

He ducks his head, huffs out a laugh that’s more an exhale of air than anything else, and looks back up at Chrissy. She’s still looking at him.

“Sorry,” she says through her hand. “I’m staring like a total weirdo.”

“I like weird,” Jeff says, feeling like he’s melting and sounding entirely too sincere about it. “If you couldn’t tell.”

“Well in that case, thanks.” She laughs, moving her hand away so he can see how much she’s smiling. She looks down and bites her lips, pausing, considering — before looking back up at him. Locking eyes.

“We share all the same free period’s right?” Chrissy continues. “Would you want to meet here tomorrow, like, officially. Be study buddies.”

Oh fuck, Jeff thinks. She’s so cute. She wants to meet him again. Eddie is going to be absolutely insufferable about this. Because of course he is. Jeff’s glad he didn’t take that bet.

Something swells in his chest, expanding his lungs, covering his insides with something as sweet and sticky as honey. He smiles at her, letting that sweetness seep out of him. “I’d like that.”

Tag List: @goosesister @scarlet-malfoy @mavernanche @manda-panda-monium @yoriposts @grtwdsmwhr @panicatthediaz @m-owo-n @goodolefashionedloverboi @chaosgremlinmunson @thespaceantwhowrites @perseus-notjackson @eyesofshinigami @hotluncheddie @novacorpsrecruit @nburkhardt @pansexuality-activated @silentiumdelirium @steaddie-on @steddie-as-they-go @redfreckledwolf @lavender248 @actualwakingnightmare

#Stranger Things #Eddie Munson #Jeff Stranger Things #Chrissy Cunningham #Jeff/Chrissy #Jeffingham #My Writing #Teenage Dream

[anniesocsandgeneralstore]

rhett abbott x oc | another au

Summary: "we always used to have sleepovers as children, why would it be weird now?" aka what if they were childhood best friends to lovers? huh? what then? (wc: 3393)

Requested: YES by @saltynametag

Warnings: childhood best friends to lovers trope, idiots in love, a sex joke involving doggy bedsheets, and SUPER suggestive at the end there + a cliffhanger on where that situation goes

✎……uh...if ya want me to finish out what happens at the end there just lmk...

✎……MASTERLIST

It is a truth universally acknowledged that children of ranchers stuck together. Even if one of those ranchers specialized in cattle and the other in horses. 

Tessa Abernathy and Rhett Abbott were no exception to this truth. They met when they were just four years old, their fathers having brought them along to the local tractor supply to pick up a few things for their respective ranches. Both Royal Abbott and Nathan Abernathy set their kids down for only a second to look at something. But then the little tots were gone. Nowhere to be seen in the large store. They were only missing for about five minutes — neither of their fathers were even all that worried. Royal and Nathan wandered up on the two of them standing side by side on an overturned bird feeder box, looking at the baby ducks under the heated lamp.

The two of them were inseparable after that. Pre-school and kindergarten, elementary to middle school — their friendship even lasted throughout high school, when some childhood friendships were most tested. Kept together through their love of the rodeo and each other. Weekends spent at one or the other’s houses, when they weren’t traveling with the rodeo team. Pictures up in their bedrooms of shared bathtubs when they were still little, pillow forts with Nintendo 64 controllers in hand, vacations one or the other tagged along on, and dances where neither of them could think of someone else to go with. Neither of them could imagine a world where the other wasn’t in their life. It seemed impossible, when they had spent nearly their entire lives knowing and caring for and teasing one another.

Everyone expected, their parents included, that they would get together eventually. That they would finally realize that they loved each other as more than friends, bite the bullet, and start dating. But it never happened. High school came and went and the subject was never broached or even brought up once — even amongst their other friends.

Even though they both, at the time, secretly harbored crushes on the other. Little fleeting things they hoped would just go away with time. Because they were best friends. Had known each other forever. They couldn’t possibly be a couple. They would drive each other mad. Or at worst, it would ruin their friendship forever. And neither of them wanted to take that risk. So the crushes went away with time, and friends they remained.

The children of ranchers stuck together like glue.

Rhett had just finished helping Tessa move into her new place. A little cottage on her parents’ property that was entirely hers to do with whatever she wanted. Her own place after living at home for twenty-three years. She didn’t think it was that special. She was still living on her parents’ land and even renting from her parents, but Rhett thought she was lucky. She was out of the house, with her own space but still some responsibility. He would kill just to have one of the lofts in a barn to himself. But he was happy for her, even if he was a little jealous.

It was late by the time he pulled out of her driveway, the sun dipped low below the horizon and the moon hanging high in the sky. If they were younger, he would have just stayed the night. Not caring or even thinking about the implications of it. But now he was older. Now, he understood that Tessa was a woman, in every sense of the word. With soft curves and pink lips and zero inhibitions about being as close to him as possible. Now, he knew what all that could mean — what it meant to stay the night with a woman like that. 

And he knew Tessa didn’t want that from him. Never has, and never would.

Even if that twisted up something inside him he refused to understand.

But, he was about halfway home when his phone started to ring with a call from her. A picture of her sitting on top of her horse grinning ear to ear back at him greeting him as he picked his phone up from the cupholder.

“Hey, sunshine, I forget somethin’?” he questioned, small smile on his face as he answered her call.

“Um, no…” Tessa answered, voice sounding small and a little afraid.

Rhett sat up straighter as he drove, prepared to pull over or turn around at any second. “Wha’s wrong?”

“S’nothing,” she replied instantly, but when he didn’t say anything back she sighed and went on. “I jus’ feel weird bein’ here alone, s’all.”

His shoulders relaxed, his grip on the wheel loosened. He should have known she would react like this to her first night alone. Tessa might have been on the quieter side, but she was a creature of the den. She liked when there were people around, noise and comfort. Knowing that she wasn’t alone. But there she was, all alone in a little two bedroom cottage for the first time in her life.

“Y’r parents’re righ’down the road,” he said lightly, even as he pulled over into the shoulder and made sure no one was coming up or down the dark road.

He knew what she was going to ask before she even had to say it. 

“I know, but —” There was a pause as she sighed, Rhett could practically see her in his mind’s eye standing there with the phone pressed to her ear, bottom lip caught strong between her teeth. “Can you stay the night? Jus’this first night. Please?”

“M’already turned around. Be there in ten,” he said, pulling back out onto the road. “I better get extra pay f’r this.”

Her laugh, soft and gentle through the phone, was like music to him. “How ‘bout I have hot chocolate ready when ya get here?”

“Yeah, that’ll work. N’breakfast in the mornin’?”

“Yes, n’breakfast in the mornin’, ya bottomless pit,” she laughed again.

“Wait, you even have eggs?”

“Yeah.” He heard the fridge open in the background. “Ma insisted we stock up the fridge n’cabinets before we moved any’a my stuff in.”

They stayed on the phone and talked until Rhett pulled back into her driveway. He didn’t need to ask to know that she wanted him to stay on the line until he got there. He just knew.

He didn’t even knock before he came inside. Just pushed open the door and took off his shoes, greeted by the smells of hot chocolate and Tessa humming under her breath as she stirred the pot it was in. Always from scratch, never from a packet with her. She smiled over her shoulder at him as he approached, pushing his hair back from his face with a returning grin.

It felt…Domestic in some way. Her standing in the kitchen, him coming home to her, the house all to themselves. Rhett wasn’t the type to imagine things often, save for a ride he was minutes from undertaking. But he could just picture coming up behind her and wrapping her up in his arms. Pressing kisses into her neck just to make her laugh. Making her sway to the song that wasn’t playing but they both heard. Coming home to her every day for the rest of his life.  It felt so real, so effortless for him to do. For them to do. As he approached, he nearly did just what he imagined. His arms instinctively reached for her. It swelled up something inside him that, again, he refused to understand. He refused to acknowledge as he got down the mugs he put away only hours before instead of living out his fantasy.

“Thank you, f’r comin’,” Tessa said quietly as she ladeled out the steaming beverage into each of their mugs.

Rhett shrugged with a lopsided smile. “Y’called.”

They drank their hot chocolate in relative silence. She didn’t have all her furniture yet, so they had to squeeze together on an oversized armchair and watch some crime show on her laptop. She leaned her head on his chest, their legs tangled together as they somehow managed to sit comfortably, and again there was that feeling. That fantasy bubbling up in Rhett’s mind. His heart. His gut. How he could so easily put his arm around her and press his lips to her head. How some part of him wanted to end every day just like this. With her by his side. How he could just so, so easily pull her into his lap and kiss her like he’s always wanted. 

Like he’s always wanted? Rhett fidgeted with his empty mug, completely lost on the plot of the show in front of him. Has he always wanted to kiss her? Love her as more than a friend?

Has he been in love with her his entire life and has only just now realized it?

A kind of heat he wasn’t familiar with flooded his chest as the idea dawned on him. As the answer hit him with the force of a raging bull. Because of course he’s spent his entire life loving her. What else was he supposed to do? It’s almost what he was made for. To love Tessa Abernathy. The girl who ran away to look at ducklings with him. The girl who encouraged him to follow his dreams of becoming a bull rider in the first place. The girl who took care of him when he broke his ankle and his arm at the same time. The girl who forced him to go to prom. The girl who had spent her whole life loving him, too.

When the episode was finished and both of their mugs were emptied, Tessa disappeared to wash them out and put them in the sink. Then she came back to where he was still leaned back and spread legged in the chair with a sleepy smile.

“Y’ready f’r bed?” she asked.

He blinked up at her for a second. Could nearly picture her reaching out a hand, ready to drag him to their shared room where they could hide under the blankets from the world. But she wasn’t doing that. She was just looking at him with that tired smile and her hands messing with the hem of her shirt.

“Yeah,” he finally sighed as he pulled himself from the armchair. “Got any clothes f’r me?”

“You sleep in y’r boxers,” she pointed out, even as she led him back to her room, the bigger one on the right side of the hall.

She only had a full bed and a box spring for now. Little by little she would buy all the furniture she needed for the place, make it her own. Earlier in the day, Rhett thought her excitement about her own place and having her own furniture was endearing. Maybe even cute. But now he couldn’t stop thinking about going with her to test out bed frames and couches, moving it all in his truck and getting thanked for a job well done with a few kisses. Rhett shook his head as he followed her into the sparse room, pushing a hand through his hair again. 

He needed to get his head on straight. Tessa was just a friend. His best friend. Always had. Always would be. 

And there was that twisting in his chest again. Sharp and brutal as a knife.

How could he spend his whole life loving her and be just her friend?

“S’cold,” he explained simply, “N’it’ll be even colder out on that armchair.” 

She looked over at him with a furrowed brow as she opened one of her boxes of clothes. “M’not makin’ you sleep on that thing.”

“Where’m I sleepin’ then? The floor?”

“In here — on the bed — with me,” she said it simply, like it didn’t crush something in his chest.

“Tess…” He tried to think of what to say, how to excuse himself from having to share a bed with her when it was all he wanted to do.

“Oh, com’on. We used t’do it all the time as kids,” she argued, not finding what she was looking for in the first box and opening another.

“Yeah, cause we were kids.”

“S’not like this’s any different.”

Her words felt final, like there was nothing more he could say that would make her change her mind. And Rhett didn’t know if he wanted to make her change her mind. So instead, he stood there and stared at the bed they would soon be sharing. Just like when they were kids. No big deal.

After a minute of digging through a few boxes, Tessa presented him with an old pair of his sweatpants and a t-shirt from the high school rodeo team. Also his. He narrowed his eyes at her as he took the proffered clothes she had clearly stolen at one point or another. But she just rolled her eyes — he couldn’t tell if the blush on her cheeks was him imagining things again or not.

Again, they got ready for bed in silence. Moving around each other like they had been doing it for years. Tessa offered the spare toothbrush she had for when she needed to change out her own. But all the while, something was building and twisting and knotting itself in Rhett’s gut. Anticipation? Worry? Guilt? Desire? He didn’t know and he wasn’t sure if he wanted to. 

He just wanted to get through what was bound to be a sleepless night in the same bed as his best friend. Just so she didn’t feel alone. Just so she felt comfortable and safe. God, he would do anything to make her feel that way. Even if it left him uncomfortable and wanting.

Even if it made their little world crumble down around them.

“Y’re in Montana nex’week right? Big rodeo up there?” she questioned as she pulled back the covers, an extra on her side so she wouldn’t get cold.

“Yeah,” Rhett replied, pushing back his hair again. “Migh’even’ave a chance t’win big.”

“Maybe I could…Go with ya r’somethin’,” she spoke bashfully, sitting down by her pillow.

He gave her a look. “Thought y’had that big girl job now — they just gonna let ya have a week off?”

“S’all remote work. Imputin’ numbers and balancin’ books — borin’ but it pays. I could, I don’know, work at the hotel durin’ the day when I have to n’then be there at the rodeo at night.” 

“Could be fun,” he said with a shrug and a smile. “Like the good ole days.”

“C’n even sneak down t’the pool past closin’, if ya really wanna relive those days,” she chuckled lightly, picking at the sheets.

“If’s the good ole days we’re both drunk on straight vodka, which, honestly…” Rhett groaned as he laid down on his side of the bed. “The memory of makes me wanna hurl.” 

“Yeah, might be too old f’r that bit now.” 

They both laughed at that. It was true, they were getting older. Tessa got a degree and was working a full time job now. They still probably drank and partied too much, but they hardly ever stayed out past midnight anymore. Pretty soon they would be sipping wine or IPAs at dinner and not staying out past nine. The idea, despite Rhett not regretting a single thing about how he lived his life save for still living at home, sounded nice to him. If he was sipping wine and IPAs at dinner with her. If he was calling it a night and curling up on the couch to watch TV with her.

He wanted to do anything and everything with her.

But then he noticed her sheets.

“Hol’on, y’still have these sheets?” he asked incredulously as he pulled part of the fitted sheet up to a point, looking up at her with a smile and a raised brow.

“Back off, I still like these,” she replied, cheeks pink as she shoved at his shoulder.

They were green and fleece, which were both fine, especially now that it was getting colder out. Rhett’s only complaint, and really his only tease, was that they were covered in little cartoon dogs. And he remembered them being on her bed when she was twelve. That was over a decade ago and she still had them on her bed. Rhett grinned at her again as he worked on straightening out the wrinkle he had made.

“I don’know how I feel abou’sleepin’ on ten year ol’ doggy sheets,” he prodded.

“Jus’do it doggy style then,” she replied.

Then went red in the face, shifting her blue eyes over at him with her lips pressed into a thin line. They both knew what she said. They both knew what she meant and also what it sounded like. And usually, Rhett would have just gone on teasing her. Disipated the tension by pointing out what she just said and bringing it up for the next several days. But he just couldn’t. Not when it felt like there something lodged in his throat and he was just now noticing her warm thigh pressed up against his own.

Not when his imagination, suddenly so active, was showing him images of Tessa, his best friend he’s known since he was four, on her hands and knees for him. Her skin bare and sweating, a forming bite mark on her ass, her back arched, and whining high in her throat for him to come closer. Just to come closer. Looking back over her shoulder at him, so much like she did in the kitchen, only now her eyes were glazed over and she was begging him to be inside her. Filling her. Loving her. 

Rhett coughed awkwardly as he pulled the covers up over his lap. 

“Well, good night,” Tessa offered quickly, voice high-pitched and her cheeks still bright red as she turned off the cheap lamp on the floor beside the bed.

Then she flopped down onto the bed beside him, blankets yanked up to her shoulders as she curled up on her side. Facing away from him. And he tried his best to just lay back on his pillow and go to sleep. He really did. But how could he when his mind wouldn’t stop and the object of all his desires was laying right next to him? When he couldn’t stop thinking about kissing her and kissing her and kissing her and kissing her? When he could feel the heat coming off of her skin and she was so close he could nearly touch her? There was no way he was making it through this sleepless night now. Not when all of it, his desire and his love and his years of longing, were bubbling just beneath the surface of his skin. Like a pot about to boil over on the stove.

Before he even knew what he was doing, he was rolled over onto his side and tugging at her arm. She rolled over to face him without any fight, just a sigh like she knew this was coming. 

“Look, I get it what I said was dumb —”

“Sunshine, I — I can’t do this,” he muttered out as he looked at her face in the blue light of darkness.

She just looked at him confused. “Do what?”

He didn’t know how to say it. Didn’t know how to articulate anything that was on his mind or on his heart. His mouth opened and shut a few times, trying to find the words that would speak it all into existence. But it just wouldn’t come. He couldn’t force it, even if he tried. It was all blank save for the pulsing need between his legs. His need for her. That really had been there all along. Even when he didn’t know it. 

So instead, he reached out for her and blindly took her hand beneath the covers. The furrow between her brows seemed to deepen as he dragged her hand across the small distance between them. But her mouth popped open and her chest heaved when he pressed the palm of her hand against the bulge in his sweats.

“R-Rhett…” she whispered, voice wavering and unreadable.

“F-Fuck, please, sunshine,” he breathed back, pushing further into her hand, further into her space. “I-I can’t anymore, please. Need you. Need you.”

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#oc: tessa abernathy #fic: my whole life loving you #fd: outer range #rhett abbott #rhett abbott x oc #rhett abbott imagine #rhett abbott fanfiction #rhett abbott fanfic #rhett abbott fic #outer range #outer range imagine #outer range fic #ocapp #fic request #filled prompt #rhett abbott x tessa abernathy #lewis pullman

[rascalthehamster]

A more aggressive feeder riz that forces his small herbivore SO to eat nothing but his food even if they end up nauseous and overly full every time?

Feeder Riz with an herbivore darling

Riz can eat a lot so he expects you to eat just as much. He spends so much time preparing food for you, it practically takes up all of his free time. He makes sure you know that too.

He wakes up extra early so he can get to your dorm when you wake up and give you a massive breakfast. If he doesn’t make sure you eat who will?

Throughout the day he gives you snacks and he will stand there until you finish them. I mean, he spent his hard earned money to get that for you to enjoy.

At lunch he’ll bring an extra large lunch for you to eat. There’s no need to eat lesser food when he makes it taste so good.

However by this point in the day you feel horrible. You can’t eat anymore and you can feel the vomit about to explode out of your stomach. You excuse yourself from the table as you scurry to the bathroom.

The next thing you remember is flushing the toilet, strings of spit hanging from your mouth as your stomach acid stings at your throat. You pull out the mints in your backpack and hope it washes away the flavor and begin to clean your face. The idea of curling up into a ball and fading away sounds pleasing but you know you can’t. If you spend too long in the bathroom he’ll come. He has before.

You pick up your bag, dry off your face and make your way to the exit. As you open the door you see Riz standing against the wall, his hands in his pockets.

“Hello, are you ready to go back now?” He reached his hand out, expecting you to grab it. Your mind immediately goes to his claws and how sharp and pointy they are. You wouldn’t want to be on the other end of them.

You agree and grab his hand. His grip is tight and forceful as he drags you back to the cafeteria.

By the time dinner comes around you’ve eaten enough calories for 3 days. However, dinner is always the biggest meal. It includes an appetizer, a main course and a dessert which you are forced to eat before you can leave the table.

He stays with you as late as he can but curfew comes every night. The one time a day where you can truly be alone. He, however, makes his presence known by giving you snacks to bring home, “incase you get hungry at night.” You always hand them to your room mates so you have an excuse not to eat them.

You stumble into bed, barely able to breathe as you lay down. You hated this feeling the most. Everyday with him was the same but the one time without him was the worst because you’re never really without him, at least it feels that way. The oppressive feeling of him controlling when and what you eat is even more apparent when all you have is your thoughts reminding you that you’re full and can barely move without feeling nauseous.

#yandere #yandere beastars #Yandere riz

[slaasherslut]

Items Ava has saved in a shoe box that Lester has given her and other items that remind her of him

Avana Walker x Lester Sinclair

Lester is the literal embodiment of a raccoon. Hes always scampering around and shoving things he finds cool in his pockets. Some he keeps for himself for his truck or to scatter them around his home. Other times though he picks them up with the intention on giving it to Ava. Hes always on the lookout for things that remind him of her or things he thinks she would like. Ava started collecting all of his little gifts in a shoe box she keeps under their bed on her side. Some of these things include:

Various small skulls.

Lester is always coming home with little skulls for her to clean up. He always tells her exactly where he found them and what animal it was. The first time he brought Ava to his cabin she gushed about the giant deer skull hanging on a wall. He showed her some more of his smaller ones. Like a few cats, birds, mice, even a fox or two. The way her eyes lit up at the macabre collection made him feel all fuzzy inside. He wanted her to get that look again and again, so he kept bringing her skulls he finds on the forest floor and in ditches.

Rocks.

This man always has at least one rock is his pocket at all times, you cant change my mind about that. He always collects them for both Ava and Ellie. Some nights when Les has to work late and Ava goes to bed before he gets home, she'll wake up to him sleeping peacefully next to her and a new rock on her night stand. He will hand them to her and say things like, "Baby, I found this real pretty rock! Reminds me of yer eyes, doncha think?"

The first bullet she ever fired.

Not long after deciding to stay in Ambrose, Ava found Lester's rifle in the back of the closet. She figured it was mostly used for hunting but at this point Lester had yet to tell her that he used it more often on people than animals. She asked Les a few times to teach her how to shoot but he was very hesitant. Partly at the fact that his overwhelming need to protect her wanted to keep her away from such a deadly weapon. The other part was that he would be handing her one of his murder weapons. When he finally caved he took her out behind his cabin and had her aim for a tree Ellie had previously hung a bird feeder on. Lester stood behind her, hands ghosting her body as he taught her the proper posture and hand placements. He made sure she was paying attention and was very serious when he explained how the rifle worked. Her first shot landed in the trunk of the tree. Lester whistled. "Yeah baby! Look atcha! Right on target!" He made a mental note of where the bullet hit and Ava fired off a few more rounds. Before they packed up and went inside, he used his hunting knife to dig the ruined bullet out from the bark and shoved it in the breast pocket of his shirt before heading back inside.

Photographs

Some were taken with Bo's DSLR and some were taken with Ava's Polaroid camera. A few of Ava's favourites include: - The photo Ava took with Percy and Ellie on their lake trip with the boys. The photo is of soaking wet Ava mid shoving the other two girls behind her into the lake. - Her favourite photos of her and Lester are at a bonfire that the group got together to do. Vincent had taken them, there was three. In the first photo, Lester is leaning his back against a stump they used as a makeshift seat and Ava is all cuddled up with a blanket in between his legs. Shes laughing at one of Bo's old stories and hes just looking down at her with a love struck smile. The second photo is much of the same but shes looking up at him. The third has the two of them sharing a sweet kiss. - A photo Bo took of Ava and Percy cuddling together in Bo's guest room. Lester was working late that night and Ava's anxiety got the best of her. The house just kept making strange sounds and it was so dark outside. On top of that the house felt so lonely without Les being around. She walked over the the Sinclair home and Percy pulled her inside, leading her up to their guest room that used to be Lester's old bedroom and snuggled with her until they both fell asleep. - Another one is of Lester and Ellie. The two best friends were in the pond behind the cabin looking for frogs. Ava was making them lunch as they goofed off and laughed together. Once she finished up making lunch she looked out the window to see if she could spot them and she could. Ellie and Les were both crouched next to each other at the ponds edge. Ava grabbed her camera and snuck outside to let them know that food was ready, but not before snapping a photo of the two.

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#ava walker oc #angels of ambrose au

[theramseyloft]

Beginner’s housing for a pet pigeon

We can go into the complexities involved in housing multiple pigeons at a later time.

Right now, we’re going to focus primarily on setting up for a single bird who is intended to be a companion animal.

The biggest problem you are going to run into is that the housing commercially available for birds is designed either to display a finch or a parrot.

Finch cages make excellent hospital cages for pigeons, but that is their only useful application.

A Hospital cage needs to be small to discourage the bird from moving around too much and doing anything other than eating and drinking, so that their recovery, be that from disease or injury, can progress with as few delays as possible.

A healthy bird cannot tolerate this degree of confinement for long.

Parrot cages are huge and expensive, but too narrow for a pigeon to be physically able to use.

The bare minimum requirements for any cage a pigeon will be housed in for more than an hour a day is that it be two inches wider than the full wingspan of the bird at the narrowest point, to allow their wings at least an inch of clearance on either side.

They are cliff nesters that don’t roost on branches. Round perches hurt their feet, so they need either flat platforms or square perches.

Pigeons cannot climb the way parrots can. They can only walk or fly, and they cannot comfortably fly if their wings will clip into things like hanging toys or ramps.

So they tend to prefer their enclosure be as uncluttered as possible.

Socialization is best done outside the enclosure, so that’s where most of the toys should be.

Dog kennels set up like this one above are kinder to both the pigeons and the wallets of their care taker than pretty much any indoor bird cage available.

A Labrador sized (usually marketed as a “Large”) kennel will fit bird about homer sized and smaller.

Larger breeds or breeds with longer flight and tail feathers will need a larger size as a base line.

These are very simple to modify.

The nest box is a bunny/ferret corner litter box, about $8-10 at most pet shops. Easy to clean and comfortable.

The perch is a garden stake cut to length, about $5 from the garden center at Walmart or a hardware store like Lowes or home Depot.

Honestly, if I had this to do over, the birds would get a wider, shallower food dish.

Pigeons are ground foragers. It’s easier for them to eat comfortably from a shallow dish than a deep one.

The water dish can be as deep as the pigeon can reach the bottom of.

This is the upper level of a ferret nation Double modified for my first breeding pair of Lucerne waaaay back before my loft was built, when I had a grand total of four breeding pair of pigeons and 16 pairs of Ringneck doves.

This one also has a garden steak cut to fit as a perch.

Their nest box is a large dog bowl full of timothy hay.

Notice that this enclosure has a single hanging bell toy exactly at standing head height for the birds, well out of the way of their wings.

This probably looks unbearably spartan, especially if you come form a parrot back ground.

Remember that pigeons cannot climb and will not fly in a space where their wings may bump into clutter.

The cage for an indoor pet pigeon should serve the same function as the kennel does for an indoor dog:

That is NOT where the dog lives!

At most, it’s where they sleep at night, and where a puppy stays when they can’t be supervised until they’ve learned the house rules.

Pigeons are absolutely smart enough to learn house rules just like a dog or cat.

And pet pigeons are happiest when they have the freedom of motion to exercise, play, and interact with their human flock mates at will.

While they can free fly an entire house, a single bedroom is enough space for most breeds to move around happily.

Pigeon proofing is pretty simple.

They aren’t capable of chewing like parrots, so no need to worry about your electrical chords being damaged and your bird giving them self a nasty shock.

They can’t damage wood or drywall or fabric by chewing.

Pigeons don’t eat plants, but do like the feel of ripping them and will use strips of leaves as nest bedding, so house plants may need to be protected by glass covers.

Things displayed on shelves in the room or rooms the pigeon will have access to need to be heavy enough or well enough wedged in that the bird can’t pull them down if they land awkwardly on them or push them off if they bump into or try to squeeze past them.

Papers need to be stored where they won’t be scattered by the wind that their powerful wings kick up in flight.

Any crevices too high or awkward for you to easily clean need to be blocked some how.

Poop is simple.

The poop of a well fed, healthy pigeon with a good diet should be round and solid enough that it can be easily picked up with a square of toilet paper or a tissue when wet or vacuumed up when dry.

Once you know your bird’s favorite perches, you can make clean up even easier on yourself by laying down puppy pads under them that you can just change out as often as needed.

Once a pigeon has mastered the house rules, you can do away with the cage entirely.

This is the feeding station we set up for Ankhou and Bird-bird.

On the little feed tray for cats were the feeder and waterer with oystershell offered free choice from a dish between them.

Pigeons are one of the very few animals that recognize their reflection in the mirror as a a reflected view of themselves, instead of another bird.

Most like to practice dancing, strutting, their sweeping charge, and bow-cooing in front of mirrors, so those are excellent enrichment for them.

Being cliff nesters, bricks are simply the most comfortable thing for a pigeon to stand on.

Strutting back and forth on the rough surface in front of a mirror will help them keep their claws blunted.

The bricks are holding down a crinkle sack for cats, laid out flat. 

Pigeons love noise stims. Particularly crinkly, jingly, or chiming.

The noise it made made dancing in front of the mirror extra fun on the crinkle mat.

The dead keyboard serves a similar function.

This beans box from Walmart full of straw served as Bird-Bird’s nest box.

She laid eggs fairly regularly, and slept in there most of the time.

Ankhou was a man of simple tastes. 

This baby doll blanket on the nightstand at my bedside was where he slept at night.

Social bird was social and wanted to be as close as possible to us at all times and involved somehow in everything we did.

Pigeons like to take baths, and our free flying pet liked to be offered the opportunity to take one when we showered, but did not like to actually be in the shower with us.

So we got him a little pyrex casserole dish about as long as he was that stayed on the side of the bathtub and made a habit of filling it for him before we got into the shower.

Anhkou didn’t care much for forage pans or puzzle toys, but many pigeons do and they are very simple to make.

A pan or tray with a few fists full of straw, paper strips, sand, or a mix of all three with a high value treat like Safflower seeds sprinkled in to find mimics the way rock doves would forage for seed in the wild.

Puzzle feeders for pigeons are as simple to make as crumpling a sheet of paper with a few high value seeds inside.

Pigeons love crinkly sounds and tugging on the crumpled paper or blowing it around by flapping at it will reward them with a few spilled seeds and a fun noise.

The little wicker balls for kitties with a jingle bell inside complete the holy trinity of stick-texture, shiny, and jingly, and many pigeons love to kick, peck, and toss them.

They like to pick up and shake and toss bread ties with a small jingle bell fastened to the end.

Bird-Bird’s favorite toy was the bell intended to go on a kittens collar. 

She liked to strut around with it holding it by the loop by which it was supposed to fasten and very softly jingling it.

Q-tips with the cotton tips removed and toothpicks with blunted or clipped ends are basically pigeon Legos.

Miniature wind chimes like this little angel and her harp are fun auditory stims too.

If you can swing it (ha!), pigeons enjoy swings, as long as the perch is flat.

Experiment with your birds and see what kind of enrichment they enjoy. ^v^

[chubbology]

Overindulged

prompt: feeder boyfriend quits his job and balloons as fat as his feedee/feeder girlfriend

He drove his sleek BMW up his driveway and into the middle garage just as dusk settled into night. He’d stayed overtime at work again, and to make it up to his girlfriend, three dozen fresh assorted donuts sat in the passenger seat.

Sure enough, immediately upon opening the back door with his stack of boxes, he heard her voice: “Late.”

“It’s the end of the month,” he said. “What do you expect? Brought you something though, so don’t be mad. Come in here.”

He set the boxes down on the granite island, then waited, sucking in a breath. His pupils dilated as his favorite person in the world waddled through the wide archway leading into the kitchen. After giving him a pout, she pulled the boxes toward her with arms that hung, at their heaviest, over half a foot with fat.

She was a beautiful, enormous woman. He had met her on a plane three years ago on a business trip to Paris. She’d pulled him into conversation like a warm whirlpool, and he’d listened in awe to her life story: miserable wife of a banker to a happily divorced entrepreneur, flying first class on her own dime.

With a smug, knowing smile, she talked about how she used to be skinny for her ex’s sake and now was free. He couldn’t help but let his gaze roam over her blatantly overweight body. Thighs pressing firm on either armrest of the wide seat, bust prominent and heavy, belly button deep and visible through her dress.

Bad news is, she’d concluded, I just settled a messy lawsuit that lost me my career and nearly bankrupted me. But she shrugged, as if such was life. I’m taking my last-hurrah vacation until I have no choice but to eat tiny, unsatisfying meals again.

He decided that couldn’t come to pass, so he spent as much time with her outside his business obligations as he could, taking her to meal after meal, falling in love as she ate to her heart’s content and shamelessly talked about how she’d rather fallen in love with gaining weight. It titillated and empowered her. By the end of their two week stay in Paris, she was twelve pounds bigger and he had invited her to live with him for a while as she looked for a new career path. She accepted.

Three years later, she’d found her calling without having to leave his luxurious, spacious home. Doing what she loved.

She was almost four hundred and fifty pounds now, last he was updated. She always wore leggings that clung to every lump and bulge of cellulite, and she liked to tease him by wearing crop tops, letting her massive belly and side rolls hang out and wobble as they pleased.

He watched with soft eyes as she stuffed herself with four jelly-filled doughnuts. Between bites she said, “These long hours at your soulless job are no good. My fans want to see more of you.” More eating. “The last time you fed me on camera was weeks ago!”

She gave him an imploring look as she ate a fifth doughnut. Boston creme. Her face, once conventionally pretty, now had a sexy overindulged look. She’d lost her jawline to additional chins and neck fat, and her round, fatty cheeks quivered as she chewed. Even before she finished the fifth doughnut, she picked up a sixth. “And don’t think they haven’t noticed that little tummy you have now.”

“What?” He looked down at himself, blushing at how his tie sat out a bit on slightly stretched white buttons.

Before he could say anything, she pushed a chocolate doughnut in his hand. “I know people willing to pay a pretty petty to see you chunk out.” She smirked. “Pop a couple of those buttons.”

He laughed dismissively, but as he ate the doughnut, he contemplated the press of his new chub against his shirt. His pants felt a little tight in the ass, too, now that he thought about it. What if? he thought.

Suddenly, he found himself admitting: “I’ve been thinking of quitting.”

Her eyebrows rose.

“I want to spend more time with you,” he explained. He hadn’t meant to talk about it now, but here he was. Out of nervousness, he pulled one of the boxes toward himself and picked another doughnut, this one caving in under its sprinkles. He took a heavenly bite. “I have plenty of money saved and invested to take care of both of us for a long time. I just don’t see why I…”

She waddled over to his side of the island and took his free hand. “You know I’d support you.” Then she pulled him closer, into a smiling kiss. “I’ll support you real good.”

*

Before his two week notice even ended, he was eight pounds heavier, and he relished how his coworkers’ eyes lingered on his burgeoning waistline. Soon, his tummy was pushing over his pants. His chest felt thicker. He felt his ass spread wider when he sat down. He ate desserts all the time, and his girlfriend lavished him with attention (food) at every opportunity when he was home, encouraging him to eat in amounts he’d never let himself eat before. She started filming - with his consent, as always - the development of his chubbing up. Her fans loved him even more than they already did, compliments coming in faster than he could read them.

One month into being an unemployed man, she stuffed him on camera until one of his shirt buttons popped off. The experience was more of a revelation for him than even becoming officially overweight; that night, after she went to sleep, he got out of bed, squeezed into an old pair of slacks that barely fit him, then gorged himself in the kitchen until he gasped at the relief of his ass seam tearing open, unable to accommodate his butt, which everyone online said was growing gorgeously fat. His heart fluttered just thinking about it, and he hoped his ass kept growing.

It did.

“I admit, I never thought you’d be this much of a pear,” his girlfriend told him, six months into his steady ballooning. They were admiring his progress in the large bathroom mirror. He may have looked small relative to his partner’s morbid obesity, but somehow, they were both more fascinated with his growth at the moment. She outlined his bottom heavy figure with her hands. Fat had indeed stored most eagerly in his ass, thighs, and hips. His belly drooped soft and wide.

“I love it,” she said. “Love everything about you.” But then something else came into her expression. “Except how you’ve stopped picking up after yourself.”

He swallowed, and said honestly, “Sorry. I know I’m getting lazier.”

“We’ll have to hire a maid.” She grinned wickedly. “Or do two pigs deserve to roll in their sty?”

*

A year into living on his passive income and her subscribers, the couple had not yet hired any cleaning services, and his country club house was...well. Not trashed, but messy and disorganized. She blamed the five pounds she’d lost over the past month on having to constantly throw his trash away. She punished him by making him stand while drinking a whole liter of full-sugar soda. Since he’d developed a strong distaste for any physical effort as he sunk deeper into obesity, he grumbled the whole time. When he finally fell back on the couch, she sat too. Together, they took up most of it. But while she looked perfectly composed, he was panting raggedly, slightly sweaty, a food stain on his pants.

“Look.” She reached out and held his chubby wrist. “I can tell that the fatter you get, the more your natural inclination is to be a pig.” She spoke with total matter-of-factness. As if the emergence of his inner pig was unsurprising and inevitable. “It’s not uncommon in men - that urge to oink and eat as a way of life. But we share this space. I help pay off this house. Please throw away your take out containers.”

Then she added, at his long-suffering sigh, “I’ll reward you.”

He met her gaze. “Tonight?”

“Tonight.”

*

This time, there were no cameras. There was just her, sitting on one side of their king bed and him on the other, breathing heavy, taking her reward one bite at a time.

Everywhere in their bed were containers and packages and napkins and soda bottles. He had eaten mexican and noodles and burgers and fries. He’d eaten candy bars and sundaes and milkshakes and chunky cookies. He was so full he could feel the skin of his belly stretching. He could practically feel the skin of his thighs stretching, as if they were filling up heavier with fat right then, as he was determinedly overfed. He swallowed another bite of greasy cheeseburger.

“Keep going. I can tell you're slowing down, but I’ll have none of that yet. I want to see progress from you.”

“I don’t know…”

“Do you want to feel the ecstasy of squeezing through a doorframe or are you going to plateau at being just fat?”

He let out a breathy moan as he ate another bite of the cheeseburger. His girlfriend knew him too well. She knew he liked the new challenges being big was causing him. She knew it turned him on that he sat so much fatter in his own car, belly pressing against everything, ass barely fitting at all. She knew his hands had begun cupping his hips as a half-unconscious habit, admiring his own width.

He liked how his thighs had to push past each other, jiggling every time. He even liked when he accidentally bumped into things, because it was a hot reminder that he wasn’t the same. He was like her now. He was fat. He was a pig. He wanted to eat and get so big he could barely even waddle. He wanted to squeeze through doorways. He wanted to get stuck.

“I want everything,” he said. And she smiled, temporarily pleased.

*

Thank you to the reader who commissioned this work!

I'd love to write more. Check me out <3 etsy.com/shop/Chubbology

#weight gain #fic #female feeder #male gainer

[fbfh]

might have almost died but at least my crush likes me back - percy x gn!crush!reader

pairing: percy x gn bad swimmer crush reader

wc: 1.4k

warnings: some swearing, near drowning, water monsters, nonsexual tenticals ever look up and wonder how you’ve gotten to this point, some general dumbassery but what did you expect

summary: was charging into battle against a water monster when you practically need a pool noodle to shower a bad idea? yes. was getting rescued by percy and finding out he has a crush on you worth it? abso fucking lutely. 

requested: yuh

song I listened to while writing this: what the water gave me - florance and the machine

Okay, jumping into the water was definitely not your smartest move, especially since you still need water wings when you go canoeing in the camp lake. In your defense, you have beef with this piece of shit monster. What are you supposed to do, not beat the shit out of it when it tries to go after your friends and sink your ship? No! Plus, will kicking it’s ass possbily impress Percy? Maybe! Is that worth it? Hell fucking yes! You jump in there with a plan; you’ll charge in head first, land on its back where its’ blind spot is, and attack while it tries in vain to reach you. The one thing you didn’t expect was for it to sink below the water and keep going further down, which is where you find yourself now. 

Okay, you think, don’t panic. Hard advice to take when you’re watching the surface recede as you get dragged further down. You’re still trying to stab the bastard, but it’s not working. You know when to pick and choose your battles - literally - and it’s time to retreat. You pull out your sword and try to jump off its back, but you don’t move. You look down, another spike of panic shooting through you, making your collar bones hot and stomach drop sickeningly. 

This piece of shit has two tentacles wrapped around your feet and ankles. 

Oh fuck.

You start to swing desperately at the gelatinous arms holding you down, but your movements are heavy and sluggish, and you can’t land a good hit. A heavy, deep dread fills you as you realize the depth of the situation you’re in. Your mind is already racing with the worst possible outcome, but you try to shove that away, and return to trying to free yourself. If you’re going down, you’re going down swinging. Plus, the others will probably realize what happened, they’ll probably come in for back up any second. 

A wall of stone and sand appears to your right, and you dare to look down at the trench the monster is dragging you down into. You haven’t been down here for too long, but the panic is making you feel light headed. If you pass out down here, that will really be the end. A shadow passes over you, or maybe your vision is going dark, you can’t tell. Either way, you try really really hard not to think about how screwed you are.

A blurry, overlapping combination of Fuck! and No! are all that go through Percy’s mind as he stares at the rippling, swirling water where you were one second ago. He can’t stop seeing the tips of your hair getting dragged into the churning blue depths. Overwhelmed with dread, he feels the water was over him before he realizes he even jumped. He follows the irregular currents from the monsters wake, never wanting so badly to vaporize this bottom feeder. A steely determination rushes through him, overpowering his fear, his worry for you, and yells louder than his racing panic about how hurt you could be; he is going to get you, and you’re going to be fine.

He had left you for one second - one second! - and you somehow managed to do the dumbest, bravest, hottest thing possible and charge after that monster. He pushes aside those thoughts. 

They’re instantly replaced with a rush of hypotheticals; the feeling of your arms around his neck, how you’ll blush when he asks if you’re okay, how he’ll kiss your forehead and tell you how stupid that was, maybe your eyes lock, your hands come up to his cheeks, and- 

He stops them again, chastising himself for thinking about that at the literal worst possible time. 

‘I have to find you first...’ He muses, catching up to the monster - and more importantly, you - a moment later.

‘And there you are.’ 

His shadow passes over you, and a bubble escapes your mouth. Another hot spike of dread cuts through him. He speeds up, drawing his sword, but hesitates when he sees the tentacles holding on to you. A new plan is immediately in mind. He’s only got one chance at this, he has to line up his shot perfectly. 

He speeds down, swings one immaculate arc with his sword, and cuts you free. He pulls you toward him with his free hand, making an air bubble around your head. His nerves calm slightly as you catch your breath, returning to your normal color. 

“Stay here,” he says firmly, helping you get your footing a safe distance from the trench. You nod, hands still clutching his arms. He can’t tell what adrenaline is from the fight and what’s from you, but it doesn’t matter. He’s ending this now. 

He turns back to the monster. 

“Hey shrimp breath!” 

The beast rises, turning to look at him. It was not expecting this. He raises his sword slowly, then races forward, slicing through its weak point. It lets out something between a roar and a shriek, sending currents that almost knock you over. He jabs the thing two more times for good measure. As soon as it starts to turn to dust, he swims back over to you, pulling you into a tight hug, and rising to the surface in one fluid motion. 

You gasp when you break the surface, mostly out of relief, but the feeling of going up doesn’t stop. It takes you a second to realize Percy is waterbending you both up, arching to the side, and setting you gently on the deck of the ship. 

“Are you okay?”

It takes you a second to process everything that just happened. Your mind replays the most terrifying - four, maybe five? - minutes of your life, ending with breaking the surface, rising back up to the boat, and having Percy’s hands on your cheek and shoulder, worriedly inspecting you for any injuries. Wait, what? You realize what he asked, and sputter out a response. 

“Y- uh, yeah, I’m totally fine-”

“What the hell was that?!”

You blink in surprise as he keeps going.

“That could have gone so wrong, why would you just- just jump into the fucking ocean without a plan b, or a life vest, or something!” 

Is he lecturing you? You hold back a smile as he continues, you don’t think he’s ever lectured you before. It’s really cute. 

He pulls you close, your cheeks heating up as he presses his face into the side of your neck. You feel more grounded in his arms than you probably ever have. 

“I… I don’t know what I would do if something happened to you,” He says it so softly you almost don’t catch it. His face nuzzles against your skin, taking in your presence, and presses the smallest kiss to your neck. 

Oh.

Your mouth hangs open as it dawns on you how he feels. 

He pulls away, face flushed, and rubs the back of his neck.

“Uh, do you…” he trails off, searching your expression for an answer. 

Of course you like Percy; everyone does. You don’t know one person at camp who doesn’t like him at least a little. Camp Half Blood culture is smelling like barbeque smoke, not questioning it when you find a new bruise or scar, and having at least a small to moderate crush on Percy Jackson. We’ve all had it. The giddiness from finding out he likes you feels almost fake. You snap out of your internal spiral, realizing you haven’t answered him yet.

“Yes- yeah, of course… I mean, hello, you’re Percy freaking Jackson. There’s a mile long list of people who have a crush on you.” 

He glances to the side. You’ve never seen him smile like that, it looks good on him. He pulls you close, thumb running over your cheek, foreheads almost touching. 

“There’s only one name on that list I care about.” 

Your lips meet, and you can tell how long he’s wanted to do this. He angles his head just right, and you reach a surprising new level of euphoria you didn’t know existed. You eventually pull apart and he rests his forehead against yours, both of you catching your breath for the second time. 

His words from before replay in your mind. 

“... it is my name, right?”

He laughs and pulls you into a hug. 

‘I could definitely get used to this.’ 

Standing on the deck, holding you in his arms, Percy is thinking the same thing. 

#percy jackson #percy jackson x reader #heroes of olympus #heroes of olympus x reader #percy jackson x gn reader #x gn reader

[tinyboxxtink]

“Sharky” *Part 2*

Don’t hate me because Barba is kind of a dick right now. We all know he’s not-- but we need the drama. <3

Part 1

Part 3

Tag List:

@chasingeverybreakingwave

@gibbs274

@dumauier

@wanniiieeee

@objection-argumentative

@word-scribbless

@aprildecker-blog

---------

“So he actually asked you to dinner?” 

“Yeah, but it’s probably some weird tactic to get inside my head,”

“Is he cute?” 

“Why does that matter?”

“Honey it always matters.”

Alright, so you had one friend. One best friend. One very best friend that you’d known since law school. But nobody needed to know that.

“....Yeah, I’d say he’s pretty attractive,” You finally admitted as you reheated your leftovers.

“Oh my God you’ve had sex dreams about this man haven’t you?!” He squealed.

“HOW do you do that?!” You stared at the phone in disbelief.

“It’s a gift,” He laughed. “I can hear the lust in your voice,”

“Whatever,” You grabbed a beer from the fridge.

“So what are you going to wear?” 

“I don’t know, I’ll decide in the moment,” You sat down on your couch and started catching up on your shows with your food and beer.

“Oh no no no, you need to wear your silver dress with those platinum earrings I bought you for Christmas,”

“Seriously, Charles? Are you going to come over and do my hair and make up too?” You chuckled sarcastically as you shoved low mien in your face.

“Do you want me to?” 

“I’m hanging up now,”

“Wait wait wait,” He pleaded and you listened.

“Be nice to him, honey,” 

“I’m always nice,” You stated in an offended tone.

“You’re cordial. Be nice-- Smile, flirt. Have a good time,” You heard his sweet intentions through the phone; it was like he was actually being a caring best friend.

“You make it sound like a date,”

“Well that all depends if you fuck him after,” There he was.

“I’m really hanging up now,”

“Call me after!”

-----

You went with the silver dress and black pumps-- just because Charles had put the idea in your head, not because it was the outfit you looked best in. You stepped out of your Uber in front of the restaurant: 

“Forlini’s” You read out loud. “...This place better not be expensive,” 

You went inside and noticed Barba was already at the bar so you walked over to join him.

 “Hey, Sharky!” His greeting caused an eye roll from you. 

“Seriously can we drop the name? I’m a woman not a fish,” You took a bar stool next to him.

“...Well then you probably shouldn’t have worn that,” He nodded.

“Excuse me?”

“You look like a shark to me,” He gestured to your silver dress; it was tight on the top and kind of flowed down your legs, like a fish tail. You had never noticed it before, but him pointing it out made it suddenly glaringly obvious.

“Alright guppy, what are you drinking?” You smirked, slipping into the bar stool next to him.

“Guppy…” Now he rolled his eyes with a smile. “Scotch, neat,” 

“I’ll have what he’s having, only stronger,” You instructed the bartender, causing an even bigger eye roll from Barba.

“You’re something else, you know that?”

“Thank you,” You beamed proudly.

The bartender returned with your drink; you noticed that he was very young and very good looking. You slipped him a $20 with a sly smile. 

“Keep the change, handsome,” You gave him a wink. He looked between the two of you, confused as to why you’d be flirting shamelessly with him in front of Barba.

“We’re not together,” You said very loudly.

“Wow, don’t say it so eagerly,” 

“Hey I might need some stress relief after this interrogation, I’m just covering my bases,” You smirked, still eyeing the bartender.

“Is that what you think this is?”

“What else is a first date if not an interrogation?” You suddenly realized what you had said and to your dismay you saw Barba caught it too.

“Ah so this IS a date,” He smirked.

“..I didn’t mean it like that. I just meant--” You stumbled over your words as Rafael just smiled at you in amusement. 

“Just shut up and ask your questions, I know you have a list of them” You shook your head dismissively. 

“Not a list…” He nodded to the bartender for another round. “Alright well why did you choose to be a defense attorney?”

“Money,” You replied without a pause. 

“Money? Really?” He asked with a judgey tone. 

“Hey you try growing up dirt poor and see how much you appreciate having money,” You snapped.

“I did, and I do; but it doesn’t run my life,” He shook his head disapprovingly.

“It doesn’t run my life,” You knocked back the rest of your scotch, ready for the new one.

“Really? Then tell me, how do you pick your cases?” He raised an eyebrow.

“My boss gives them to me,” You didn’t see the big deal.

“Uh huh and how does he order them?” He was making a point, you knew he was.

“...By the biggest paycheck for the firm,” You finally admitted.

“Uh huh,” He nodded smugly, sipping his new scotch.

“Look Barba I already told you this, defense lawyers are unfeeling monsters. What else do you want me to say?” You scoffed. 

“Is that the only reason you became one?” He smirked at you.

“No, actually it’s not,” You replied as you sipped your own scotch.

“Really? Why else?” He raised his eyebrows curiously.

“Because any law student out of night school can defend a good guy,” You inched closer to his face. 

“Defending a bad guy is a challenge,” You pulled back and noticed he was still smirking, and he added an approving nod.

“Fair enough,” 

“Really?” You raised an eyebrow.

“I mean you make a good point,” He scanned you up and down. “Everybody loves a challenge,” 

You felt yourself blush as his eyes ran over you, your own eyes surveying his entire body. You would never admit it to anyone, but you did always have a thing for the ADA-- not like “doodle hearts in your notebook” thing, but when he’d do his crosses in court you’d always stare at his perfect ass in those chinos and wonder what it would be like to take a bite out of it. 

Some other days, particularly when he wore the black and pink suit, you’d imagine what it would be like to just shove him onto his little offensive desk and fuck him right there in the courtroom, with everyone watching. You were so lost in your own fantasies that you didn’t notice people approaching you-- 

“Rafa?” An all too familiar voice came from the side of the room. You turned to see Rafael’s rag tag bunch of misfit detectives staring at you.

“Olivia,” Rafael said softly like a kid caught out after curfew.

“So this is why you couldn’t come out with us, because you were taking HER out?” Olivia spat.

“Um excuse you, I’m taking HIM out,” You grabbed Rafael’s hand and put it on your knee.

“NOBODY is taking ANYBODY ‘out’,” Rafael snapped his hand back and gave you a dirty look. 

“Liv it’s just a friendly dinner, and I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want to have this conversation,” He gave her those pathetic apologetic eyes, like a puppy who had just peed on the rug.

“Why do you care anyway, detective?” You asked innocently. You knew she had cream in her panties with his name on it, and you weren’t afraid to call her on it. 

“Excuse me?” She scoffed with a laugh. “I care because he’s my best friend, and he doesn’t need to be manipulated by you,”

“Really? Me manipulating him?” You smirked and stood up off your bar stool and got real close to her face. “Then why did he ask me out?”

Olivia stared in horror at you, then Barba, then threw up her hands and stomped off. Carisi, Rollins and Fin all muttered goodbyes and dashed out behind her.

“Why would you do that?!” He looked like he wanted to go after her, but he was staying to have it out with you.

“Why would I--? Are you serious, Barba?!” You continued standing, now crossing your arms. “You did this on purpose, didn’t you?”

“What?” He looked confused but you weren’t buying it.

“You asked me here on purpose,” You narrowed your eyes.

“Well obviously it was on purpose--” He tried playing it off.

“No no, don’t be cute. You asked me here with an agenda,” You inched closer to him.

“What? Oh come on Sharky not everyone is you, with your ulterior motives--” He glanced around nervously.

“MY ulterior--?! You asked me here to make your little work wife jealous!” You were making a scene now, but you didn’t care.

“What? I most certainly did NOT--” He tried defending himself.

“Then why did you ask me to come to the same restaurant you knew they were going to be at? I mean if you didn’t ‘want’ to be caught. I know you’re not that stupid,”

“I forgot,” He muttered softly.

“You FORGOT? Do you really think I’m that stupid? I’m not Olivia,” You crossed your arms again.

“DON’T talk about her,” He growled.

“Oh my god are-- are you on something?!” You threw your hands up. “You clearly have a thing for that woman, and yet you asked me out to parade me in front of her, for why?” You threw your hands up in frustration. 

“I didn’t ask you out for that Y/N, I swear--” He rubbed the back of his neck.

“Then WHY did you ask me out?”

“I-I don’t know…” Now he turned those apologetic eyes on you, but you weren’t falling for it like his little detective.

“You’re fucking unbelievable, you know that?” Tears were forming in your throat against your wishes; you would not let this fucker see you have emotions.

“You know you offense lawyers, you sit up there on your moral high horses, judging all of us “bottom feeders”. But I would never fuck with anyone’s emotions or their heart, Barba. That’s just cruel,” 

“I thought you didn’t have a heart,” He was still going for the quips, he had some balls you’d give him that.

“Oh so that’s what this was,” You sucked back the tears as you tried to laugh it off. 

“You wanted to fuck with the big bad Sea Witch, see if she had a heart?”  You really couldn’t believe he was this vindictive. This whole time you thought, maybe....well, you didn’t know what. But you were clearly mistaken.

“No, I’m sorry I was just--” He stood up and tried to put his hand on your shoulder but you jerked away.

“Well guess what, Barba? You win! You made the shark cry. Are you happy?” You couldn’t hold the tears anymore as you yelled. 

“Y/N I’m sorry, I really am--” He tried going for your hand, but you slapped him across the face.

“Don’t follow me,” You warned him as you turned and stormed out of the restaurant.

How could you have been so wrong about him? Why did you even care?

#rafael barba #rafael barba x you #rafael barba x reader #rafael barba imagine #law and order special victims unit #law and order svu #law and order svu fanfiction

[monstersandmaw]

Male changeling (Dunnock) x female reader - Part Two (sfw)

Edit which I’m including in all my works after plagiarism and theft has taken place: I do not give my consent for my works to be used, copied, published, or posted anywhere. They are copyrighted and belong to me.

I had not intended for this to get so long, and the story is now three chapters in total! The last part just needs a bit more adding (it's nsfw btw) and some editing, so it shouldn't be as long between this and the last part as it was between the first and second. It’s been up on Patreon for a while, since folks there get it on early release as usual.

Catch up with Part One (sfw) here (Tumblr link | Patreon link)

Content: more fluffy bonding and memories with our childhood friend, a bit of talk about the reader's father, and of Dunnock's origins/background, and preparations for the little village's Spring Equinox Festival...... Wordcount: 2886

As dawn filtered through the thin, light-degraded fabric of the hut’s old curtains, you became gradually aware of the warm, solid presence of Dunnock’s body behind you. After sharing the evening and your food with him for supper, you’d fallen asleep on the soft hearthrug beside him, and apparently he had dozed off as well. Over the course of the night, as the fire had died down to little more than ashy, red embers, he had shifted to tuck you tightly against his chest. One massive arm dangled over your waist, clawed hand resting limp and relaxed in the space beside your stomach, the other arm pillowing his strange head.

In the moments before he stirred too, you stared at him. The monumentality of just what his existence meant stunned you for a second, and you swallowed thickly. He was every bit as real as the solid floor beneath you, and yet your mind screamed at you that he was impossible. The smoky grey fur swirled around his closed eyes in a pattern that made you ache to trace your finger along it, just to feel the contours of his face, the strange plains and angles that weren’t quite wolf and weren’t quite bear; they weren’t quite anything that you could relate to, and yet there he was.

Perhaps sensing the shift in your breathing as you slid from sleep to wakefulness, perhaps sensing nothing at all, Dunnock inhaled more deeply and blinked himself awake. His long-lashed eyelids fluttered for a moment before they revealed the deep, cornflower blue of his eyes and you smiled. He, however, appeared to crash back to reality with a jolt. The moment he realised where his arm had been lying, he retracted it with the speed of a striking viper, ears flattening and eyes widening.

“Sorry,” he murmured, voice rough and thick with sleep. “I… I didn’t… I didn’t mean…”

“It was nice,” you smiled honestly, half rolling and half shuffling to look at him a little better. More than one part of you felt bruised and sore from your night on the hard floor, and you probably had makeup smudged under your eyes or something, but there was a look in his steady eyes that made you not want to care at all. They really were spectacular eyes after all - the brightest and most vibrant blue.

He blinked slowly, left eye closing fractionally before the right, and you grinned as you recognised it as something that the little barefoot boy in the woods had done too. In a flash, you saw him standing in a glade and beaming at you with a handful of dirt and a tiny hazelnut that had clearly been stashed by a squirrel and subsequently forgotten and left to sprout. His freckles had enchanted you as much as his eyes had, and you found yourself tumbling unbidden down the verdant banks of memory lane in an instant.  

“What?” he rumbled.

With a chuckle, you reached a hand up to his cheek and trailed your fingertips over the impossibly downy fur there. A quiet, almost wheezing rumble left him, and those eyes, so clear and intense, disappeared again as his eyelids fluttered down, unable to look at you as you touched him with such tenderness.

“What?” he repeated in a hoarse whisper without opening his eyes.

“Just remembering the little things, is all…” you said. “You really are the same, you know?” you added a moment later as you dropped your hand again.

At that, he did look at you, surprise evident in the set of his cervine ears.

“I mean… sure, you’re about as different as it’s possible to get, physically, but you’re just the same otherwise.”

His lips tugged into a wonky smile that revealed sharp canines, and he rolled onto his back to stretch. He lay there for a while with his hands resting lightly on his chest and his legs stretched out like a hound luxuriating by a fire.

“How’s your leg?” you asked as your eyes travelled down the length of his strange and beautiful body.

Flexing his foot experimentally, the pads of his paws spreading rather sweetly, he grunted and nodded. “Fine. All healed.” Shooting you a cheeky sidelong look, he added, “Told you.”

Breakfast was bacon butties, something that Dunnock hadn’t had since your father had died, and he clearly relished them.

“He used to bring me one sometimes,” Dunnock confessed after practically inhaling two soft white rolls filled with hot, crispy bacon that you’d offered him. “I’d always smell them when he made them on Saturdays, and sometimes he’d see me between the trees and make me an extra one too.”

Something ached at the thought of Dunnock knowing your father almost better than you had.

As if he’d spotted the thought on your face, the changeling looked away and then added, “He used to talk about you a lot.”

“Really?”

“Mn. If he’d recently come back from visiting you when I saw him, he’d tell me about how you were getting on. I think he knew I missed you too.”

Guilt twisted your gut and you felt your breakfast curdle as you stood by the kitchen window and gazed out at the empty bird feeder on the edge of the clearing near your car. “I should have come back here, but I just never seemed to find the time… between studying and taking care of mum - at least to start with - and then juggling work experience and a part time job to pay the rent…”

“He understood,” Dunnock supplied quietly from behind you, and you sensed that he wasn’t just speaking for your father.

“That… That doesn’t make it easier,” you said. “I’m glad he did though.” After another pause you said, “I loved him a lot.”

Dunnock bobbed his head and grunted softly. “You’re a lot like him.”

“Mum always said I’d end up working for the wildlife service or something. Speaking of… I’d planned to take a hike today. You don’t know of any good trails, do you?” you asked with a grin.

“Oh, I can think of a few nice routes,” he chuckled, heaving himself onto all fours and shaking his dense fur out. “I’ll let you get ready and meet you just up that little trail where you found me yesterday.”

The hike with Dunnock brought back a relentless flood of memories.

He led you down the network of endless paths that the two of you had forged together as children, taking in all the old haunts from the Neolithic quarry nestled between tall mossy pines, to the small bog at the edge of the forest where the heath drained down into a treacherous, peaty swamp, dark and stinking and full of tannins. Here there were butterflies and glittering dragonflies that made crazy loops through the reeds, and rabbits with twitching noses snuffling through the underbrush. Further out, you saw stocky, bristle-brush ponies on the moor, and the larks burbling above, and although the walk drained you, physically, it began to recharge something mentally that had been empty for so long that you’d failed to notice it any more. Even your boss had seen it, but it had evaded you for the longest time.

That evening, Dunnock stayed with you again, and he remarked on the life returning to your eyes, which made you blush and thump him on the shoulder. In turn, he just rumbled another chuckle.

“Dun… Tell me about the Fae then?” you asked after you'd both eaten. With Dunnock tucking into your food as well, you were almost out of the modest supply you’d bought on your way in, and the next day you’d have to go to the store in Iska’s Well.

A ripple of tension shuddered almost imperceptibly up his spine, and he seemed to have braced for an impact that you couldn’t see. Sitting beside the fire that you’d decided to let die down early that night, he then sighed and half shrugged. “Honestly, I don’t know much about it. I’ve never lived with them.”

“But… how do you know what you are?” you pressed carefully.

Taking another huge lungful of air, he shifted slightly and gave another noncommittal shrug. “The family - whose human baby my parents stole to bring up as Fae - raised me until I was about five I think, and I must have shifted for the first time around then. I don’t really remember them very well, but I remember that they were frightened of me. The woman was… she… I think she knew about the Fae in some way because the moment she saw what I was, she drove me to the forest and left me there. I won’t repeat what she said, but she knew that I wasn’t human. I don’t know what the man thought of what she did, but no one ever came for me.”

He didn’t seem particularly upset by any of what he’d just revealed to you - just awkward - but you sat there with your mouth hanging open in horror. “Dunnock…”

“What?” he asked, blue eyes searing with a frank confusion that stunned you.

When you blurted, “You were abandoned twice?”

He just snorted. “I suppose so, but the forest took care of the rest. And I include your father in that. He knew I was different when he found me riding the wild ponies across the heath. I must have been six or so, completely naked and thoroughly wild… I think he gave me some of my earliest clothes…”

It was your turn to snort. “I can’t believe he didn’t try to take you to a hospital or a police station like any sane person would have done.”

“I shifted in response to what I thought was a threat,” Dunnock laughed, shaking his head as he fondly recalled the events of his first meeting with your father.

“And he just… accepted it?” you asked, amazed. From what you recalled of your father he had been a patient man, but not very… imaginative. He’d entertained no ideas of religion or of a world beyond. For him to accept that Dunnock wasn’t from this world painted him in a new light. You wished you could talk to him about it now, and that thought brought unexpected tears to your eyes.

Dunnock startled at the change in you and surged silently to his feet, nuzzling his head and cheek against your neck where you sat on the floor with your back to the moth-eaten couch behind. “I’m sorry,” he said.

Shaking your head, you told him it was fine. “Being here - and learning all this - it’s just… stirring up old feelings, you know?”

“I know. How about you tell me more about the animals you care for? I’d like to hear what happened to the Rottweiler that wouldn’t be adopted without the rabbit…”

You knew he was distracting you, but you were only too happy to tell him that one.

Yet again, Dunnock stayed the night, but this time you both curled up on the mattress in the corner of the room. There was no need for a sleeping bag with the warmth that Dunnock’s body threw off, and you curled gratefully into the curve of his body while he didn’t hesitate to wrap his arm around you this time.

As you drifted on the shores of sleep some time near midnight, having talked each other hoarse again, he gave a cavernous sigh and tugged you a little tighter, murmuring in your ear, “I missed you…”

The next day you woke late and headed into Iska’s Well in the car while Dunnock returned to the woods alone. “I’ll know when you’re back,” he said quietly. “That infernal jay will probably come tattling to me first.”

“Really? Do they actually… you know… speak?” you’d asked, cheeks hot with embarrassment.

He shook his head. “Not with words like we are now, but they have their own way. I got pretty good at listening, besides… I can… feel when you’re in this part of the wood.”

You’d petted him gently between his ears and listened to his brief but happy rumble before he’d risen onto his hind legs and brought his finger to the underside of your chin. Leaving with an obviously affectionate little stroke there, he disappeared into the shadows in a mere few paces, and you blinked in surprise. It was as if he’d vanished completely and you swayed on the spot.

“Dunnock?” you whispered.

“Mn?” came his curious response from the depths of the trees. “Everything alright?”

“Yeah… don’t worry. See you later,” you breezed. He really was something Fae about him after all.

Iska’s Well was busy that lunchtime, which was to say that there were all of three people in the general store, and they were all talking animatedly about the Spring Equinox Festival. The owner of the shop, a portly woman in her early sixties with soft grey hair and a motherly look to her, glanced away from their little huddle as the brass bell above the door tinkled a welcome, and she smiled at you. “Hello dear!” she called. “How’s the old cabin treating you? No squirrels in the roof?”

“Nothing of the sort, thank you,” you replied, warily eyeing the other three women who had suddenly taken a very keen interest in you.

“Oh that’s good,” the shop owner exhaled dramatically. “I was wondering after you left last time if we’d have to send Steve down to help you out with anything. I’m pleased to hear that your father’s place is being lived in again.” She turned to the other three gathered conspiratorially at the end of the counter and added, “You remember our dear ranger? Well, this is his daughter. She’s only up here for a short while though, is that right?” she asked you and you nodded.

One of the women brightened visibly, her initial suspicion of an outsider evaporating now that she had a context for you, and she said, “Oh! How long are you here for then? You should come to the Equinox Festival tomorrow. It’s the highlight of the spring! Isn’t that right, Martha?”

The shopkeeper nodded. “Our Sam is going to be playing with his little band, and there’s a hog roast and dancing… You’ll never want to leave, I promise!”

“Sounds ominous,” you quipped, but the women only laughed.

“We’ll see you there then?” the second asked.

She looked like the kind of woman who wouldn’t take no for an answer where hospitality was concerned - in fact they all did - so you just nodded and smiled and said you’d probably be there. That seemed to do the trick and you were allowed to continue your shopping in peace, leaving fifteen minutes later and heading back to the cabin.

Dunnock wasn’t there when you drew up in the little gravel parking area in front of the house, and he didn’t reappear until sunset which saw you sitting on the porch step, idly watching the birds flit back and forth from the pines to the bird feeder.

“No wonder everyone’s here,” came Dunnock's deep, rough voice from between the rough trunks of the nearby trees. “Sunflower seeds at this time of year - what a treat, eh?”

You couldn’t help smiling, and in a heartbeat you found yourself on your feet and walking towards him. It felt as though he were reeling you in, pulling you closer by the sheer force of his presence. Everything about this felt natural and right and you didn’t pause to think. He leaned his tall body against the last of the trees and waited for you to join him, watching you approach with his steady, forget-me-not blue gaze.

Hanging on the branch beside him you noticed two fresh trout, and you raised an eyebrow at him.

He shrugged. “You’ve been feeding me since you got here. Thought I should return the favour. Do you not like fish?”

“Oh, they’re fine,” you grinned. “You’re lucky my dad taught me how to deal with them though. Not everyone knows how to gut and bone a fish…”

Something flashed across his face but he hid it behind a chuckle.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“That was definitely a ‘something’,” you pressed playfully.

Dunnock just shook his head stubbornly and took the fish off the branch with a claw and into the cabin for you.

As you ate that night, Dunnock easily lounging on the floor and you at the little scrubbed wooden table in the kitchen, you were reminded of the equinox festival. “Have you ever been?” you asked when you brought it up.

Dunnock shook his shaggy head. “No,” he said, easing back a little and leaning a fraction closer to the wood burning stove. Apparently, despite the thickness of his pelt, he really enjoyed the heat it threw off. “I’ve heard it going on most years though. Sounds like it could be fun.”

“You think I should go?” you asked and he grinned.

“If you want,” he shrugged. “I think most of Iska’s Well show up for it. You’ll have no shortage of dance partners, that’s for sure.”

With a snort, you inhaled deeply with the satisfaction of a full stomach and easy company and murmured, “Maybe I will go after all…”

Part Three

___

I really hope you folks enjoyed this one! Don’t forget to let me know if you did enjoy it by leaving a like and/or reblogging it!

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#exophilia #changeling #male changeling #fae x reader #male fae x female reader #female reader #male monster #male monster x female reader #i'm adding the reader tags now on their own #sorry for not adding those tags sooner

[dizzydancingdreamer]

“First Lines” | Tag Game

Hey Y’all I have gotten tagged in this a few times— thank you so so much @auroracalisto @mikaelson-emma and, of course, @hellotvshowtrash— I haven’t had much time to read them and form coherant thoughts but expect some soon. 

So the rules are you post the opening lines to 20 of your most recent fics— or all the ones you have if you don’t have 20— and it kinda just shows who you are as a writer and it’s just fun!

I decided to include some WIP’s— and expose to everyone who is not @activist-af the sheer amount of fics that I start and then set aside. Please enjoy y’all I got a kick out of compiling this list!

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“Barnes, you’re on protection detail.”

He must be dreaming— he must have fallen asleep with the tv on again. That’s been happening a lot lately; he’s trying to catch up on normal life. On all the shows and movies and music he’s missed throughout the years. He’s trying to catch up. Or maybe he’s just trying to drown out the silence. It doesn’t matter why, to be honest, all that matters is that he is asleep and what he is hearing and seeing are the workings of a bad dream. There was a marathon last night. Yeah, there was. Movies, a few of them. Something about bodyguards. He’s just dreaming about the movies. Right?

(WIP | Persephone’s Symphony | Bucky Barnes)

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“Did you pack my dress!” A shrill voice assaults her eardrums as she scurries towards the door.

It comes from a tall, thin, young woman. Her face and fingers are boney, her blonde hair falling in perfect waves down her back. The faintest aroma of honeysuckles and violets wafts off her creamy skin. She is beautiful, her step sister Anna. At least in theory. The sneer on her cherry lips and the hatred in her cerulean eyes, unclouded and accusatory, can’t be hidden by any length of silky dress or ruby lipstick, though. She is ugly, even if just on the inside.

(Posted | The Servant and The Prince / Chapter One | Loki)

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The ride to the capitol takes three gruelling days. Each night is spent at a different tavern. It is the same story each time; Estrid and Anna spend the night in a lavish bed and Y/n is left with the horses, curled under her thankfully baggy cloak. It is neither warm nor comfortable, sleeping on the bench seat of the carriage. She never really falls asleep, she only dozes in and out of consciousness. It is almost always interrupted by footsteps or the murmurs of animals or her own mostly empty stomach growling into the night. That one is twofold- usually her stomach is in so much nauseating pain that she cannot sleep but, on the off occasion she can, she is then awoken by the loud roars it makes.

(Posted | The Servant and The Prince / Chapter Two | Loki)

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“Please Surtr.”

Her voice rings through his ears on a loop, the most beautiful and agonizing melody that he has surely ever heard. She must be magic- something strong and powerful and like nothing he has ever seen before. There is no other explanation. It had been magic when she appeared to him, literally falling into his lap as if out of thin air. He is the god of tricks but even he cannot do that- he cannot make women that smell like flower petals land in his arms at will. He wishes he could- more than anything he wishes he could pluck her out of his dreams and bring her back to him. But he cannot because that was not a trick. That was something else entirely.

(Posted | The Servant and The Prince / Chapter Three | Loki)

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Y/n’s heart thunders as she gazes up at the glittering golden gates of the castle. If she was not so bogged down with bags she would throw a hand over her brow— a futile attempt to keep her eyes from burning out of their sockets. Do they really have to be this glittery? She thinks they are marvellous, that is not the problem. The problem is that she is not marvelous. Not in the slightest. Not worthy of such magnificent, splendid, rich architecture. She glances down at her simple dress— the loose green threads hanging from the side of the garment— she had meant to fix those— is this really where she must stay? Surely there must be a stable somewhere. A barn for animals like her.

(Posted | The Servant and The Prince / Chapter Four | Loki)

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“On the balcony,” Frigga calls back, brushing her blonde hair over her shoulders. “We have company!” She adds, seemingly as an after thought— she is too busy pouring wine from a glass feeder into a beautifully ornate cup.

At least, Y/n thinks it is wine. She can smell the fermented berries— sweet and tangy and warming her nose as all wines she has encountered before have— only this wine is a pale violet shade. It is not an opaque rouge, not a barely there chartreuse. Nothing like what she has ever been able to get her hands on by way of bartering or shared celebration. Weddings and births. She takes a seat in one of the golden chairs, trying not to think about how out of her element she truly is. The little details are starting to show though. Not just extravagant pools and marble hallways. Even the food here is luxurious.

(WIP | The Servant and The Prince / Chapter Five | Loki)

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She would have never thought it possible. Never. She’s the type to sit at home and crack open a good book. Maybe make a nice cup of tea. Lately she has been finding hibiscus tea to be a nice way to end the night. That’s besides the point, though. The point is that she is nothing like her older sister Jane. She is a dreamer, not a doer. Not a traveller.

Especially not a traveller of space— of foreign planets.

(WIP | Untitled | Loki)

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“Are you heading home this weekend?” Lily twirls a strand of blonde hair between her fingers, “Mama told me there’s an event.”

Your best friend lays on your bed as opposed to her own, her legs dangling over the edge. Her eyes are closed, probably halfway to being asleep. It’s been this way since the two of you left for college three years ago, always more in your space than her own. You’re lucky that way, you have a best friend who would follow you across the country if you wanted her to. Honestly, you would do the same. Luckily, though, you decided on only two hours away away from home. Just far enough to find your footing. At least, that’s what you tell yourself.

(Posted | Everything, Everywhere | The Mikaelson Boys)

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“Get away from me, Kai!” Y/n snarls, pushing her way through the grill with a huffing witch on her heels.

She had been eating her meal- staring at her meal more like— and trying to ignore the constant buzz of her phone. He was incessant, texting her non— stop as if it would make it all better. After the thirtieth text she had turned her phone off, preferring to look at her food in silence. No text can erase his voice in her head. She means nothing to me.

“Not going to happen, kitten,” Kai purrs, his hand wrapping around her arm and tugging her to his chest, “you’re not going to ignore me.”

(WIP | Untitled | Kai Parker)

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New Orleans isn’t all that it was cracked up to be she muses to herself as she winds her way through the tombs. They tower over her, shadowing her with the sins of so many people before her. They’re lonely. That’s all she can think, over and over again. They must be so lonely. There can’t possibly be enough people to visit each of them. There aren’t even any people to visit her, let alone thousands of lost souls. She laughs to herself, a cruel sound breaking through the crashing silence. She is a lost soul.

(WIP | Do You Have A Moment? | Kol Mikaelson)

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A little bit outside the city lines of New Orleans, tucked precariously off highway 109, there stands a roadside market. It isn’t too far, nor is it too close; it’s just right, like the porridge in some half assed, uninspired fairytale. It’s nestled perfectly on the edge of the bayou, drawing in just enough business to keep the two girls running it in business. The jam is sweet, the ham is honeyed, and the women have smiles that look a little bit like rain in a drought: necessary for life but too much water on dry soil is a recipe for disaster. It’s all a little bit too perfect. Too clean cut and wholesome. But this isn’t a fairytale, after all. It’s the story of the girl who got away with it and the girl who helped her do it.

(WIP | Hey Tommy | The Mikaelsons)

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The Salvatore house has always smelled the same; like oranges and rum. A lot of rum. It is a welcome scent, one that smells almost like home. It will never truly be home, those scents are already reserved in your very essence, but it’s close. You’ll always be happy to walk through their door. Today is no different.

(WIP | Forever and Always | The Mikaelsons)

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Kol drags a hand through his hair, his eyes locked on the book in front of him. His eyes wander the page, the corner of his mouth lifting when he skims something particularly interesting. You, too, have a book in your hands but, unlike him, your focus is elsewhere. To be exact, your focus is four feet away, basking in the sun on the lap of one shirtless vamp.

(WIP | Best Friend Things / Part Two | Kol Mikaelson)

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“So, love,” a pair of arms snake around your waist, pulling you into a warm chest, “these are the famous pumpkins?”

A familiar blonde head, the one you woke up to this morning, settles against your shoulder. He must be leaning significantly given the fact that he’s at least a good head taller than you. You break the rain spell you had been working on, laying your wand next to your pumpkin starts. That’s the beauty of magic, you can grow in any season. You turn to face Klaus, a soft smile on your face.

(WIP | Pumpkin / Harry Potter Universe AU | Klaus Mikaelson)

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The salt clings to her sticky skin, her hair grainy and matted from the surf. Thunder rolls overhead, chasing her through The Cut like. It’s only half past noon but shadows layer the street, casting everything in a dusky gloom. The pavement smells sharp; the rain is coming and fast. She hikes her tote higher on her shoulder and wishes for a moment that she hadn’t dove for as many shells today. She feels like a beached whale with all the dead weight. Business is business, though, and the tourists go crazy for a handmade necklace.

(WIP | Thunderstorm Afternoons | Jj Maybank and John B. Routledge)

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She shoves her key into the lock of the Smith’s beach house, turning it with an audible click and smiling when she pushes the door open to the smell of warm pizza and oranges. Try as the boys may, Mrs. Smith’s affinity for essential oils will always prevail over the mass amount of cheap pizza they consume on what is— unfortunately— the daily. She hauls her bag higher on her shoulder, closing the door behind her and thanking the heavens she remembered to pack some of the chicken her mother made for dinner on her way out the door. No Domino's tonight, thank you very much.

(WIP | Sleepovers | The Kook Boys)

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“Y/n, darling, come here,” her mother’s sweet voice trickled over her from the front hall, “I have some people I want you to meet.”

She stepped into the hallway, coloured lights pouring over her. It was Christmas time, her favourite time, and everything was extravagantly decorated. Garland lined the grand staircase, there was a tree in almost every room, and, her favourite, holly strung in every doorway. Her house radiated magic, more so than usual, that is.

(WIP | Hufflepuff Princess | Draco Malfoy)

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Her feet hit the pavement with careful clicks, her heels— while undeniably killer— a little loud for her taste: a product of her day spent in practice with the other debutante girls. She has to force herself to make her steps light. This isn’t New York, it’s Mystic Falls. Being a southern woman is not a choice; it’s an obligation. A prior commitment she agreed to before she was old enough to truly fathom what it meant. For the most part she loves it— the elegance and refinery, the teatime giggles and flouncing skirts— but the heels? That’s a hard no.

(WIP | Untitled | Kai Parker)

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She sighs, her toes burying themselves in the carpet as her arms reach well past her head in a much needed stretch. Her room is dark, the only light coming from her cheap desk lamp. The pounding in her head, for once, isn’t enough to drown out anything that’s happened in the last twenty-four hours. None of this was supposed to happen, it wasn’t supposed to get this far. It was always just a game, wasn’t it? She runs a shaky hand through her hair, her knees wobbling slightly at the thought. Get it together, y/n.

(Posted | The Bet | Rafe Cameron)

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Her bubblegum lip gloss attacks him from all the way across the café, cutting cleanly through the aroma of coffee and donuts and sending his heart racing at the obscenely sweet scent. He should hate it. No, scratch that, he shouldn’t think anything of it at all. It’s not in his nature to enjoy things- or to feel things at all, to be frank- but he can’t help it. The drugstore brand, wildly over-scented balm makes his head fuzzy like nothing else.

(Posted | Bubblegum Princess, Cherry Angel | Kai Parker)

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I don’t really know who to tag because I haven’t been active these last few days so I am tagging people I have not seen do this yet and if you have just ignore me : @elijahs-wife @draconisxcaput @imaginearyparties @dumble-daddy 

#tag game #first lines #WIPs

[bulletproofscales]

Could you do a Yoonseok fic where they are uni teachers and they teach in the same room? Like when Yoongi's class finishes, Hoseok's class comes in after and Yoongi has a bad habit of overstaying to get a glimpse of the other cute teacher and they just end up falling in love somehow?

– hello!! i dont know why i had such a hard time writting this request???? like its simple its cute, its lovely. i just struggled so much to find a direction to take it form. so i really hope this fufilled your vision it came out supper fluffy!! i didnt make it feederism because the pormpt didnt specify, theres like hints to a chubby yoongi if you squint . anyways enjoy!!!

3.8k words

https://archiveofourown.org/works/30115707

Yoongi loves literature. 

He’d go as far to say, literature is his favorite thing in the world. 

No, he hasn’t read fiction since he was in highschool, and he hasn’t read fiction voluntarily ever.

What’s that got to do with anything?

When the university offered Yoongi this job as the professor in Thermodynamics, they had assured him his schedule wouldn’t clash with the other Calc II classes he gave during the week; always with a break in between. Which meant, the professor always has at least 2 hours in between his classes to use for research purposes. 

Yes… Research purposes. 

LIsten he hadn’t meant for it to get this far. Yoongi had only curiously stayed as he saw the new professor who was replacing the old lady who gave World Contemporary Literature after his class. The man looked young, about his age, delicate complexion, angelic face. 

His name is Jung Hoseok, and Yoongi had only talked to him for a couple of minutes, welcoming him to the university before leaving for his office. Though he was later very frustrated to find out, he could barely get any work done with his mind playing unhelpful reruns of his exchange with professor Hoseok. The most reasonable thing would be to try and not cross paths with him again for the sake of his investigation, right?

Yoongi is not nearly as strong-willed as he needs to be to accomplish that. 

In fact his time at the World Contemporary Literature class, only prolonged after that encounter. Waiting until the class was full to make his leave, or sometimes waiting until Hoseok started the class, or sometimes even staying for a bit at the front row before leaving. By now, his two bi-weekly classes of Contemporary Literature had become part of his routine. Staying at the back of the class where he admired the young man, as he walked around giving the class diligently; impressively capturing a large number of students who were now actively interested in it. 

Yoongi had been captured, in a different way. 

“You’re staying over this class too?” Hoseok’s voice is soft spoken, not upset but just lightly accusatory. It’s been weeks, of course he noticed Yoongi staying over every single class. And as startled as Yoongi is, he still considers himself lucky that the professor doesn’t sound annoyed. 

“I just–I really…” Think Yoongi, think of anything. “I’ve just really been trying to get into literature.” He manages to smile softly through his lie. And it seems to work, because Hoseok’s expression is widening and then grinning in excitement. 

“Who would have thought!” He beams cheerfully. “Well you’re free to come as many times as you want. Though I might have to start testing you along with the rest of my students?” Hoseok jokes, or at least Yoongi hopes he is joking. He just laughs it off and goes to his usual seat in the back, where he will be doing nothing except staring as professor Hoseok gave his class; without actually registering anything that’s being said. 

Lucky for Yoongi, the test never comes. But him and the literature professor grow closer, Hoseok starts inviting him out to have their lunch break together; since he knows for a fact Yoongi gave his class first thing in the morning and then stayed until near noon in Hoseok’s lecture. And just like had accepted defeat before, the older agrees without a second doubt.

In comparison to his typical lunches stuffed in the Sociology department with Namjoon and Seokjin, those bi-weekly 40 minutes he spends with Hoseok are… so refreshing. He remembers fearing that the literature professor would ask Yoongi what he thought of the class, but that wasn’t the case at all. 

Long forgotten were his heated debates about deeply rooted issues within humanity over lunch. Now Yoongi couldn’t wait until it was wednesday or friday, and he could just converse with Hoseok. Of course it started out like it typically would, professors talk, complaining about students, complaining about their superiors, how they got into teaching. But somehow Hoseok deemed him worthy, and just opened himself up for Yoongi. Nothing too dramatic, but the engineering professor found himself walking down the campus and being able to register what Hoseok’s favorite sitting spot was, under what specific tree; because he had told him. Or pushed himself to get weird stares by his colleagues for grabbing one donut too many because he recognized the strawberry filling ones that were Hoseok’s all time favorites and was considering dropping them off to him. 

It had been half a year, and by now, Yoongi could say he had opened up to Hoseok as well. He was more than happy to take his role as a listener to everything the younger had to say. As useless as it was, Yoongi would soak it up even when he didn’t mean to; and he had come to accept that. But, Hoseok didnt let it happen, always attentive, always considerate; asking Yoongi’s input into anything their conversation had decided to settle on. Asking for Yoongi’s favorite spots on campus, or what donuts did he reach for first when they brought some into the professors’ room. 

And Yoongi… he soaked up all that attention Hoseok gave him, too. 

It didn’t take long until they learnt the other’s schedule, sometimes using their own breaks to stop by the other’s class; just to see one another during the day. He’ll never forget the first time Hoseok came to visit as Yoongi was finishing one of his own classes, and widened at the different graphs and drawings that took over all the chalkboard. 

They were definitely friends, of course they were by now, but Yoongi couldn’t help but think that their friendship had something more special to it. Maybe it was the way the older just felt safe and soothed whenever he was talking with Hoseok, or the way Hoseok didn’t shy away from showing how much he enjoys Yoongi’s company. 

They were friends but they treated each other, just a little bit softer than the rest of their friends.

Which didn’t have to mean anything, of course. Different people have different dynamics and it just so happens Hoseok takes out the gentler side of the engineering professor. Just like it also happens to be Hoseok the one who takes out all the butterflies caged in Yoongi’s chest.

Well… maybe this different dynamic does mean something… To Yoongi at least; and he has come to accept that fact. He had reached an age where he didn’t really think he could get a crush again, yet here he is. 

Considering his feelings, he had felt a little hesitant to initiate anything with Hoseok outside their work hours; a little voice in his head telling him not to abuse the younger’s friendliness because of his own ill intentions. Hoseok made him happy as is, and he should be content with that. 

Surprisingly it’s the literature professor who, during the peak of exam season, offers to hang out and correct exams together. The little voice reminded Yoongi of his ‘ill intentions’ , but, like he keeps saying: he is simply a little weaker when it comes to Hoseok. And that first time, getting to see Hoseok outside their university, at the doorstep of his apartment which he had organized very last minute, casual clothes, beer pack in hand, gentle smile on his face. Yoongi feels himself fall in love all over again. 

Yeah… He is in love, by now he had come to accept it. 

Maybe he should be nervous, but he wasn’t, not really. How could he be when Hoseok had become his safe space? No amount of romantic feelings could change that. 

They laugh, they drink, they revise exams, they drink again, laugh some more; Yoongi finds out Hoseok is a lightweight. Third beer bottle is halfway done as the literature professor slurredly tries to write feedback onto the back of an exam.  

“You doing alright there?” Yoongi can’t help the amusement and endearment in his voice. 

All he gets is a slurred hum, and that’s all the response Yoongi needs. Still grinning as he stands up and comes back with a glass of water to Hoseok, who seems to be in some sort of trance staring at the universe. “Drink up, handsome.” He swears it was meant to sound teasing, but a blush betrays Yoongi spreading on his cheeks. 

Hoseok doesn’t seem to dwell on it, thank fuck; rather focuses on drinking his water slowly and in a way that is too endearing for Yoongi’s heart to bare. He watches as Hoseok downs the glass, trying hard not to focus on the way his Adam’s apple bobs up and down, stop staring at his neck in general, creep, and rather rubb the younger’s back. 

He finishes the glass and he leans his head on the table groaning. 

“I think you’ve done enough grading for tonight.” He chuckles enamoured. “Think you can take a ride home?” Hoseok still has his cheek squished against the table and eyes fully closed when he nods. “Ok, Seok, up.” He instructs softly, squatting down as his hands reach for Hoseok’s middle. Surprisingly cooperative, Yoongi manages to get the younger buckled up in the passenger seat of the car looking dazedly out the window. 

It's… pleasant, Yoong thinks. The silence is always comfortable with them, and he gets to drive around the deserted city with simply the knowledge that Hoseok is by his side. He makes sure to take his liberties stealing glances at the younger, his face angelical even when confusedly staring into nothingness. 

“Here we are.” Yoongi feels the need to announce it given they’ve stopped and the drunk man hadn’t made any sign of moving… He still hasn’t. “Uhm… Hoseok?” He offers trying his best not to smile a little amused at the situation. 

It looks like it physically costs effort for him to open his lips to speak. “Can you make sure… I actually go to bed?” His eyes barely meet Yoongi’s, quickly glancing somewhere else. It could be the older’s mind playing tricks on him, but even with the white street lights Hoseok’s cheeks still manage to have a beautiful pink tint. He is blushing, and it only makes Yoongi’s smile spread wider. 

“You don’t seem like the type of drunk to cause any trouble.” He questions with a smile that already gives away his answer to Hoseok’s request. 

“No, but I’ll fall asleep halfway into my apartment.” The younger man manages to smile lazily, dainty hand settles on his shoulder. And Yoongi feels himself swallowing thickly, no person should be allowed to look this good when they’re this pathetically drunk. 

“That adds up.” He chuckles getting out of the car and turning around to open Hoseok’s door for him. “Look at that, you unbuckled your own belt. Impressive.” Yoongi teases as he takes Hoseok’s hand to help him stand. 

“I’m drunk, not 5.” His playful tone and little smile makes the idea of Hoseok being annoyed at him less convincing. He is taller than Yoongi, yet he feels so much smaller when he is tiredly leaning his weight onto the older, a protective arm wraps around the literature professor as they walk inside Hoseok’s apartment complex. 

Yoongi tries his hardest not to blush when the doorman eyes the two oddly and Hoseok mumbles a sleepy: “He’s with me.” with his head buried deep into the engineering professor’s shoulders. And keeps it there all through the elevator ride… and all  through their slow walk around the hallway… and it’s still there as Hoseok clumsily tries to type in the security code for his door. 

He doesn’t want it to go away, the weight of the younger’s head on his shoulder giving him a sense of pride that makes Yoongi want to swell his chest up. But Hoseok keeps failing to type in his code, with his nose buried into Yoongi’s neck. 

“I think you might need to look at the keyboard to actually type the code.” His hand rubs up and down Hoseok’s side, with a smile that’s too fond; though the younger can’t see from where his head is resting. 

Hoseok groans. “Can’t we just be comfy?” The older specifically loves the way Hoseok assumes this position is comfortable for the two of them. 

“Wouldn’t we be much more comfortable on your bed?” Yoongi swears he didn’t mean to say that. And he knows if the other were sober, he definitely wouldn’t brush past it. 

Drunk Hoseok, however; he hums as if thinking it through “Yeah… We would be more comfy there…” He sounds so serious about it, like he was actually considering just staying here for the rest of the night, comfortably settled against Yoongi; the older can’t help giggling. Too cute. 

“Put the code, then.” He urges, big hand squeezing at where it is settled on Hoseok’s waist. 

It’s his first time going into the literature professor’s apartment, it is very neat, even if it’s filled to the brim with books. Yoongi tries to take in as much as he can, while still helping Hoseok balance himself as he takes off his shoes and coat: the hanged pictures, the bookshelves, the toys. Hoseok owns toys: stuffed animals and figurines adorning his couch and bookshelves; Yoongi is a little stunned as they walk by. He never would have guessed. 

“Room is at the end of the hallway.” Hoseok mumbles, not only his head falling back on the older’s shoulder, but his arms wrap around Yoongi’s middle. 

Right… He has to make sure Hoseok gets to bed. 

There’s a knot at Yoongi’s stomach, but he nods; slowly walking towards the closed door. Despite seeming impossible, his room has more bookshelves, bed adorned with a few more odd looking plushies. It’s so Hoseok, the older can help his heart as it does a little flip. The younger settles on his bed, sitting down before letting his back fall. Yoongi doesn’t know what to do with himself; staring feels a bit inappropriate, yet he doesn’t know if leaving him in such a state is much of an option. 

“Should I…-” 

“I just sleep in underwear.” 

They both speak at the same time. Yoongi’s cheeks blush a furious red, Hoseok seems unfazed. He already managed to get the younger to bed. After all this time he had meant Yoongi had to tuck him in?!

“O–Oh, okay.” He doesn’t know what else to say. Then, similar to a toddler, Hoseok raises up his arms. It takes Yoongi a full second to realize; and when he does, his face gets simpossibly redder. With timid hands, he slides Hoseok’s shirt off his torso delicately. Yoongi is pretty sure he isn’t breathing, but he can’t bring himself to do so, the moment too fragile for him to possibly ruin it. The little voice in his head tells him it’s immoral to stare, but he does anyway; admiring Hoseok’s lightly tanned, slim body. 

It seems he is Yoongi only one of the two with the professor-chubs, huh. 

His blatant staring is interrupted by Hoseok popping his torso heavily onto the bed, legs extending forward in Yoongi’s direction. The older feels his heart stop completely. Yoongi is so thankful that Hoseok isn’t sitting upright so he can’t see the tremble of his hands as they hover above the button of his jeans. 

He has to hurry, otherwise Hoseok will get suspicious, and he’ll notice Yoongi making things weird. 

He feels like a teenager all over again.

He undoes the button, slowly pulling the zipper down. Yoongi’s slim fingers slide barely underneath the waistband of his jeans and start tugging down. He tries his best to be gentle, but with Hoseok’s dead weight on the bed it’s a little hard; college professors aren’t known for their strength. So he makes the younger’s body rock back and forth on the bed until he gets the pants out of the pool by his calves and finally takes it out. 

Huh, Yoongi totally would have considered Hoseok a boxer’s guy.

He somehow feels he shouldn’t say that outloud, or shouldn’t hint at paying attention to Hoseok’s underwear at all. 

Or maybe, he is just overestimating drunk Hoseok. 

“All done, you just need to wash your teeth.” He says simply instead, and the man plopped down gorans dramatically. His thighs even clench at the loudness of it, not that Yoongi was staring. 

“I need to get up?! Again?” He looks up at Yoongi with a disbelieved expression, like suddenly brushing your teeth was the most ridiculous idea anyone could propose. Yoongi has to hold back a laugh. “Why didn’t you make me go brush before I laid down!?” He sounds so insulted but his lips have the softest pout to them. 

“You plopped on the bed before I got the chance to, genius.” Yoongi finds himself rolling his eyes, all the tension that had accumulated in his body minutes before had dissipated. Even with so much of the expanse of Hoseok’s sin staring back at him, so much so quickly that Yoongi had never gotten to see; the man in front of him is still the safest place. “Come on, Seokie, up.” It feels like a dejavu from getting him out of Yoongi’s apartment. 

Hoseok’s hands are so dainty in his own, he pulls him up gently; chests bumping together softly. Soft chuckles as their noses brush, Yoongi can feel his own adoring smile. “Careful.” He mumbles, his hands squeezing into Hoseok’s. All the response he gets is a grumble, eyes barely opened as they stare directly at Yoongi, shamelessly. 

As sleepy as his gaze is, and as cute as the pout on his lips is, Yoongi can’t help it but feel somewhat intimidated, there’s something blatant about the way the younger is looking at him. And even if he can’t put a name to it, it still manages to make Yoongi shiver the slightest bit. 

He wastes no more time of Hoseok being forced to stand and rather guides him slowly towards the bathroom. Graceful Hoseok, elegant, diligent inside the classroom, that same man is looking down at his feet with a concentrated pout and frown as he takes heavy steps following Yoongi. It’s endearing enough for a giggle to slip out past his lips. 

The bathroom is only a little cramped but, it’s not like it matters; Yoongi was already holding Hoseok close to him already. Lets the younger lean against him as he has to balance his sleepy legs into picking up toothbrush and toothpaste. Yoongi allows himself to stare, even if it’s quiet and obvious he is doing so. There’s something so domestic about the sight, he can’t tear his eyes away; exposing himself through the evident adoration in his stare. 

Hoseok doesn’t pay him any attention, washing his teeth with sleepy long blinks. Only noticing Yoongi through the mirror once he is washing his lips, sleepy as he straightens back up, and when he is back to leaning against the older, he turns his head to face him. Face looking sleepy and ethereal as ever. 

And Yoongi must have gotten too caught up staring at the sleepy glimmer of Hoseok’s eyes because nothing could have prepared him for the slow, soft meeting of the younger’s lips on his. 

Hoseok kisses him like he is the most precious thing in the world; a gentle peck that makes his eyes flutter close relaxed. Not Yoongi though, his eyes are wide like plates until the younger separates. 

His mouth opens and closes a few times before he manages to speak. “Why….Why did you do that?” Yoongi has a hard time finding his own voice, opting for a soft whisper. Part of him thinking this was all just an elaborate hallucination. 

“I didn’t want to do it with bad breath!” He whines like he was being antagonized for doing something completely normal; and not kissing your friend/coworker. 

Yoongi doesn’t know what to do with himself, or with the Hoseok laying against his body, staring at him expectantly. He feels his face begin to heat up with what is most probably a deep blush. “Uhm… Well I appreciate that.” He tries to say as neutral as possible, getting his hold back on Hoseok to get him to his bed. 

The younger is pliant in Yoongi’s hold, letting himself be dragged as he tiredly lets his head fall against Yoongi’s chest. “You appreciated the kiss too though, right?” Hoseok’s voice is gentle, unsure. And it probably doesn’t help that the older one takes a second to reply; too busy trying to control the tug at his heartstrings. 

He is back to guiding the younger out of his own bathroom, only replying once he manages to set Hoseok down on the bed as gracefully as he can; only then, when worried self conscious eyes are staring up at Yoongi. 

“I do appreciate it, so much.” He mumbles gently with a gummy smile spreading his lips softly. And Hoseok looks so visibly relieved by this, it earns a chuckle from the older. Yoongi is leaning over, hand pressed to the pillow so close to Hoseok’s soft locks it could just– fuck it. 

He runs his hands through the younger’s hair, just to see the way his eyes close relaxed by it. “I’ll get going, yeah?” A little voice in his head urges him to not leave Hoseok’s side, to stay until he gets another kiss from those addictively soft lips. 

But another, more rational, voice tells him he’ll have all the time in the world to do that. 

Hoseok looks unconvinced though, it takes an endeared smile and a kiss at his temple for him to look somewhat pleased. “Fine.” Yoongi has to hold himself back from leaning to peck the pout off his lips. “Will I see you tomorrow?” 

“Text me when you wake up.” 

Yoongi can feel how different everything is from the moment he watches Hoseok walk towards him at the little campus cafe. His eyes are a little groggy stil, and a pout is still on his lips; he looks like he has a hangover, basically. 

And Yoongi is still so, so stupidly enamoured by this man. 

“Morning.” 

“How are you so upbeat? You aren’t even a morning person.” Hoseok grumbles, obviously cranky, taking a seat beside Yoongi instead of infront of him. Their shoulders touch as well as their thighs. 

“I know this may come as a surprise to you, but not all of us get drunk from a couple of beers.” Yoongi teases softly, turning to side eye him. 

“I’m not sorry.” He smiles turning to face the older. Their noses brush similarly to how they did last night. Now it should be different though, the morning fills the small cafe of busy people trying to get on with their day, not private, not imitate, not one bit romantic. They don’t need it to be, though; they managed to fall in love in the simplest of ways; through Yoongi’s obvious love for literature.

#anon #reuqest #bts fanfic #bts fic #sope #min yoongi #jung hoseok #professor au #fluff #romantic #pining #happy ending

[chromatic-lamina]

kid & law & ships

This one ended up being Killer and Law talk about Kid and ships, and Killer and Kid talk about Law and ships. I hope it works. It’s at about 950 words, so it’s one-shot territory. I’ll put a cut in and might post it to AO3 later. It’s a little silly. Hope you like it.

🚢🖤🦆🚢🖤🦆🚢🖤🦆

"Kid favours rubber duckies."

"Yeah?" Law raised two fingers to the barkeep. Two fresh tankards, froth creeping down their sides, clanked against the counter. Finished drinks were whisked away.

Killer nodded thanks Law's way, shoved a straw into the drink on the right.

"We've had to pull him out of the bathwater more times than I can remember."

"Mhm." Law knew how that felt.

"Still has a grip on Beatrice."

"Beatrice?"

"You don't name your ships?"

"Good point," Law said. Rubber duckies did float on water.

.

"How 'bout you? Crew gotta stop you from drowning every now and then?"

"Yup." Law gummied his lips together, bottom under top. Tactile. Amazing. Self-cannibalism could be a thing with his powers. Perhaps. He'd have to experiment. 

"Only it's intentional." He pressed his skin against his tooth. Incredible how material he was. "On my part." Shot a grin at Kid's first mate.

Killer snorted. "You can't make me feel sorry for you. One. We're enemies—and two...” Killer couldn’t quite remember two. He slouched into the space between them. “...the rubber duckie information stays between keep your friends close and your enemies closer, and better the devil you know than you don't."

Law's face—usually what the fuck is going on here—scrunched into what the fuck are you on about?

Killer slurped half the tankard through the straw and waved a finger in the air like a train driver taking note of the tracks. A bit more drunkenly. Wouldn't want to be on that train.

"Nothing beats the girl who turned brown when Kid and I were eating curry udon. She was eating it too, and we had a crush on her, but she spilled it over herself and it looked funny." Killer laughed into his straw. The beer bubbled. "But she whaled into us up for ribbing her. And we can’t stand the slimy muck now—curry udon. Our ship's definitely not named after her."

"What's it called?"

"Victoria Punk."

Law nodded and filed it away with the rubber duckie. "I'm sorry for your loss and hallucinations." They really weren't fun if you hadn't paid for them. "But it was experimental, not suicidal, the drowning."

"But you're a moody fuck."

"And you haven't got over a childhood crush."

Speaking of which, Killer was going to crack that tankard if he gripped it any harder.

"Broke our hearts, man."

Law patted Killer on the shoulder. They'd had enough beers for a gleam of empathy to ferment.

"With this power," and Law lifted two fingers towards the barkeep again, and created a tiny room with the other hand, “Taking oneself up to the edge of death is possible. Like how long could I try to drown and almost drown and be able to revive myself?"

"Or not. You're a fruit user, idiot."

"Exactly." Law retracted the blue dome.

Killer paid this time, fetching a cloth purse and pushing a few coins over the counter. The barkeep wiped the alcohol from them with the corner of his apron then dropped them into the till. The dull thunk against wood barely disturbed the room.

"Do your crew pull you out in time for your powers to kick in?"

"So far," Law smiled.

Killer half stood and grabbed a cloth from behind the bar and ran it over his straw. Law wasn't sure which of them was gambling with their lives. He folded and returned it.

"Sometimes we leave it a little too late, and Kid's zoning out, but the rubber duckie's gonna go down with the captain going down with his ship."

"Ships are important." Law brushed his knuckles over his mouth. Each beer tasted the same as the last and was as good. "The rubber variety and the punk."

"What's your bathtub ship?"

"Submarine!"

"Submarine."

"Capt'n likes submarines."

Law and Killer looked around the room at Ikkaku, Shachi, Clione, Uni and Bepo. Where the fuck were the other fifteen of them? Kid's crew? They turned back to the counter.

"Submarine."

"Name? Polar Tang?" As if Law hadn't known the name of the Kid's ship and every other single pirate vessel in the new world and old.

"Boaty McBoatFace!"

Law's finger rose and dropped like a subdued conductor's beat. He wasn't ordering another drink. His crew.

"Camel," Penguin shouted, returning from the gents, shaking out his hands.

"Boaty McBoatFace, you flightless ratite." Uni got stroppy with a few hits of rum.

"Sphenisciformes, y' bottom feeder. Get it right. Can't fly but can swim." And penguins walked on the soles of their feet. Had a keel, just like any ship worth its displacement weight.

"Woop-de-doo." Ikkaku just egged them on.

Law turned to Killer. Penguin had his powers, and they were no better or worse than those of Clione and Uni's. Bepo, Shachi and Ikkaku just liked to lord it over him.

"Polar…"

"Boaty …"

"Tang…"

"Mcboat…"

"the Second."

"face!" “Polar Tang the Second.” “Boaty McBoatface.”

🚢🖤🦆🚢🖤🦆🚢🖤🦆

"And Beatrice really is a pretty metal name for a duck."

Killer sat across from Kid in the Captain's room. Kid, petting the rubber duckie, lounged in the huge armchair—gilt and velvet and studded and stolen from some over-proud crime lord.

"And Victoria's a good name for the ship."

They caught each other's eye and, yeah, they still didn't like curry udon. Victoria was a far cooler name than Doruyanaika. That girl. Killer shuddered. He could still feel the bruises. 

"Better than Boaty Mcboatface," he continued.

Kid waved a hand in the air, not letting go of the duck. What was new?

"Or Camel."

"Who'd name a ship Camel?"

"Just a ratite I know."

"Those birds that can't fly?"

Killer nodded.

"Y'been hanging out with those weirdos from Trafalgar's crew again?"

"Yup." Killer leant across and stroked Beatrice's forehead. She was sweet. Sweeter than the udon girl.

"Trafalgar got a bathtub ship?"

"Submarine."

"Figures. What's it called?"

#one piece #one piece fanfic #trafalgar law #one piece killer #eustass kid #heart pirates #opfanfic #opfanfics #op fanfic #ask #bakurayxu #two characters one dialogue prompt #camel is the name of aokiji's penguin #which is a kind of a boat #threw in some real world references with boaty mcboatface #ah well #my stuff #my writing #chromalami

[sweater-daddiesdumbdork]

drunk chris continuation?💕

A/N- Heres Part 2! Hangover cure! 

Part 1

You disappeared into the kitchen to make the hangover cure, grabbing a bottle of champagne, and orange juice from the fridge, making mimosas to relieve Chris’s headache. You knew he was a beer man, but this was vitamin C boost. Whatever, that what you were claiming was the cure. You also dug into the fridge and dug out stuff to make blueberry pancakes. What was mimosas without fluffy pancakes to go with it. Flipping on your playlist, and plugging your phone into the kitchen outlet, you got started with the tunes of Billy Joel playing in the background.

Chris made his way to the shower, once he got the water running, he figured a couple tablets would help with the throbbing behind his eyes. Opening the medicine cabinet, he shook the bottle and popped the meds, palming his hand under the facet to collect a swallow of water. Dipping his head back to ease them back. Oh that better kick in soon he thought, while his hand dipped into the stream of water and finding it satisfactory, he shed off his clothes, tossing his wallet and phone up on the counter and got in. Giving a sigh at just how good the hot water felt falling down his back and turning into it fully to drench himself and soap up, already feeling better.

Afterwards he dried off and slipped on a loose pair of sweats and nothing else, since today was just a lazy day. Going into the kitchen, he caught you bouncing happily to the soft tone of Joel, sipping on what looked like bubbly orange juice from one of the flute glasses you kept for special occasions. His stomach rumbled, and he was surprised to find that yea, he was hungry. Hands sliding along your bare hips, lifting his shirt up enough for him to palm your ass while you flip two pancakes. “Feeling yourself again?” You tip your head over your shoulder and give him a quick kiss while waiting for them to cook through.

“Much better, I took a couple tablets and they helped. Is there anything I can do to help?” His hands were still on your bare ass cheeks, fondling them, making them clench under his touch. “Nope, one of those flutes are yours, and we will have breakfast out on the deck? Its not to bad out, but your gonna want your sunglasses. I will be out in a minute.” You scooped out the pancakes and onto a plate with the others you already made. Chris gave one last squeeze and a light tap that made you jump in place while he nipped your neck.

“Your an animal” You hiss at him joking while he went to grab stuff from the fridge to accompany the breakfast you made, along with silverware and plates. “Theres no denying that baby, I love everything about you, you expect me to keep my hands entirely to myself when your bare ass in the kitchen?” He wiggled his brows and whistled to Dodger, who happily followed him out onto the deck, setting up the table, he was quick to go back inside and grab his sunglasses, perching them on his face.

“No, thats the whole point. Although we sitting out on the patio, Im gonna need something to cover my bare bottom.” You claim when he returned to you to grab your plate of pancakes, letting his hand wander one last time for a firm squeeze, pecking your lips playfully. “Fine, I can understand that.” He relented and took the plate from your hand. You pat his chest and give him a light push to go back out.

“Your insatiable, go out, I will be there in a minute.” you laugh, and retreat to put on some boy shorts, slipping them on with a hop while you continue down the hallway, collecting your mimosa and the ingredients to continue making more. When you step onto the concrete of the patio, your toes flex underneath the warmth already building in the late morning. Setting it all down on the glass top, you perch in your seat, shading your eyes to see Dodger on the other side of the pool and stretched out in the shade.

Chris is sitting next to you, scrolling through his phone, and obviously reading over the messages you two shared last night, groaning softly and you grin while collecting a couple still warm pancakes, pulling of a bite to pop in your mouth. “What? wishing they took away your phone last night?” you ponder, leaning over to look at what hes reading. “They should have. It wasnt just you that got random ass messages. Mom, Carly, Shanna. “ he continued scrolling, and flipped it so your could see. “Even a joint message to Anthony and Seb.” You collect his phone to read through it and laugh at his rambles, which both men responded with Wtf man, go to bed from Seb, and Anthony, well he egged him on.

You talk to all your friends this way? Your girl gonna get jealous.We knew you loved us man.

“Its your job to take it away before I go out” Chris informed you when you handed it back over and went back to your pancakes, drizzling syrup over them. “Oh no, what if you need to give me a call, ask me to marry you again? Be sure you tell Anthony Im willing to share, im not a jealous girlfriend.” You smirk, and Chris glares over his sunglasses at you, making you lean over and put a playful kiss on his pouting lips. “You love me and you know it Evans.”

“Yea I do, still your job to take away my phone next time.” He finally took a pancake and ripped it in tiny pieces and nibbling on a piece. You were about to retort when you heard someones voice behind you, and half turning in your chair, you saw Scott wandering into the kitchen. Waving your hand to catch his attention. “Were out here, grab a glass and I will make you a my morning hangover cure.”

Scott grabbed a flute glass and came out, immediately dropping his sunglasses on his face with a groan. “Suns a bitch, shining so bright so early in the morning.” He walked past the two of you and dropped a greasy mcdonalds bag in Chris’s lap. “I figured you might want to try that.

“Its 11 am Scott...” You retort as you take another bite of your pancakes. “And I made breakfast.”

Chris is digging out a sausage biscuit and Scott hands over his flute glass, which you start to put one together for him. “And your pancakes are delicious Y/N, but we need hangover breakfeast, greasy fast food will soak up that last bit of alchohol. We are pros at this, been at it since 16. Blame Chris, he corrupted me way back then.” You roll your eyes and smirk when handing it back over, which he sipped off the top.

“You know what Im not surprised. Under that nice sweet man exterior of his, I knew theres a corrupted side.” you smirk at your man, winking.

Hes unwrapping the biscuit, sharing bites of the biscuit with Dodger whos sitting near him with his head in his lap. “If I remember correctly, I wasnt the one who insisted I went out.” He arched a brow, who in turn Scott pointed right at you.

The traitor.

“Excuse me, it was YOUR girlfriend and contacted me saying you need a drunk night out with your friends. I delivered.” Scott informed Chris, and your acting all innocent, whistling and looking around, suddenly the other side of the pool looks really interesting. In your weak attempt to change the subject. “Chris wouldnt some bird feeders look awful nice over there, something for Dodger to watch.”

Taking a bit bite of his biscuit, Chris snorted after he swallowed. “I KNEW IT WAS YOU.” Exaggerating his words, you look over slyly and shake your head in denial. “Oh I dont know what your talking about Chris.” In a semi aggressive whisper across the table, fake covering your mouth to exaggerate it “Scott how could you throw me under the bus?! were no longer best friends.”

Scott laughs and tosses back the last of his drink. “That is until you need someone to come over and hang out cause your bored.”

“Okay, well until then, your dead to me.”

“Deal Sweetheart, okay gonna go check on the others. Since you know, not a one of us left sober except for Mikey. Check on you two love birds later.”

As Scott left, Chris tossed the last bite to Dodger and you pushed away your plate, moving to a stand and coming around to sit on Chris’s lap, brushing your hand through his hand while he circled his arms around your waist and pressed his face in your chest, making your laugh. “Your not to upset I called in your friends, you really did need a night out Handsome.”

“Mmmph mmph mmoh” He mutters and you ease his head up, chuckling. “What?” your brow arches in question.

“Hell no, it was needed, but... “ His arm tightened around your waist and moved to a stand, not letting you go, your arm loped around his neck to balance while he braced his arm under your knees. “It was tricky and you didnt take away my phone.” Chris went around the table and started to the pool. As soon as you realized his intent and started to wriggle to try to get loose. “Dont you dare Chris... Chris! CHRISTOPHER DONT YOU DARE!”

But he did dare, and you went splashing into the pool, you shot back up sputtering when he to jumped in next to you, you swam over to where he would pop up, and shoved him back under. His hand snaked up to your boy shorts, pulling them off, leaving you squealing, and he shot up in front of you. Pushing your hands against his chest to push away from him, trying to escape, he dove after you, leaving you laughing and twisting away, till you came up behind him, yanking his own pants down, blowing water in his face when he turned around.

“Get your ass over here baby.” He growled and you shook your head, pushing the hair from your face and staying just out of his reach as you two circled around the pool till he ended up catching you right at the edge, and your legs wrapped around his waist, nipping at his lips playfully.

“Oops look like you caught me!” You grinned at him and he grinned back, cupping your face in his hands and kissing you back deeply. “My plan all along, wear you out and then I get to do what I want with you.”

Which he did, making you orgasm twice pressed between the pool wall and him, you two finally got out, and went to take a “quick” shower, the water going cold on you two, but at least the chlorine was washed off. Instead of really redressing, you slip on black panties and tank top, going out to pick up the patio table, and he follows you out to help, catching sight of your hips. “Oh shit baby, does that hurt?” He frowned and slid a hand over your hip. Frowning you look down, and chuckle.

His fingers must have gripped you pretty hard in the pool, as they fit exactly where he liked to grasp to get the most leverage in his thrusts. “Chris baby, I didnt even know they were there.” You purr as your arm loped around his neck and you nuzzled his neck. “So dont worry about it, It doesnt hurt at all.”

He looks doubtful, and you feathered kisses against his neck. “Promise, but you can make it up to me.” You grin and go back inside, which he followed you and the two of you worked on putting stuff away. “What is that Babygirl?”

“You can watch your video you sent me together so I can see you squirm and love me one more time in bed?”

He seemed to ponder that, and as you bent over the washing maching, his palm squeezed over your ass, making you arch.

“Deal baby, get that cute ass in bed with your phone.”

After dissecting the video in the most hilarious moments, you were laughing so hard tears were streaming down your face, awwing about how sweet he was, Chris took over and proved his words about how much he loved you in the best way possible, leaving you crying his name over and over. Did Chris end up unwinding? Most definitely. It was probably the best day hes had in a while.

Your plan worked like a charm.

[footballffbarbiex]

Building Bird Houses and Feeders.

This is part of the Spring / Easter masterlist.

Other seasonal masterlists are: Summer. Autumn Winter

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Hector and his daughter stand out in the garden with various bags and large tubs surrounding them. Cardboard boxes and various sized packaging have been torn open and Hector has finished putting together the large bird feeder. He can’t remember how they started watching the birds that would come into their garden but they did. It quickly became their morning ritual, for the two of them to come downstairs, make breakfast and begin to mush some of the fat balls and put down feed for the birds.

Hector had already taken to looking after any hedgehogs which were underweight, fattening them up safely before re-releasing them on their way again. Birds were simple and easy to look after. He’s bought bird houses, fitted them to the available spaces within the garden, high enough so that it was out of reach of any predators on the ground but low enough so that he can still peek in on a ladder and look.

The bird feeder is far enough away to not spook the birds but still close enough for his daughter to see. They usually stand close to the bifold windows in the kitchen and watch as she eats her breakfast and Hector has his first drink of the day. It’s the part of his morning that he misses when he’s away, sitting beside her and watching as the sun rises high into the sky and the look of happiness when one or two birds would swoop down and begin to eat.

Today, they’ve purchased various feeds for the birds. They hang fat balls in the wired hangers, and microwave four of them just until they’re easy to break apart and be mushed up and crumbled into the metal feeding tray for easier eating. They fill the long clear feeders with nuts and seeds, pour water into the drinking bowls for them. Once they’re happy with the overall effect, they clear everything away, making sure to break down the cardboard that won’t be re-used again and place it in the recycling bins before taking what can be reused back into the house and sorted.

With her hands washed and her help to get the dinner prepped now finished, she’s now sitting back at the window, so close to it that her breathing creates condensation on the clear glass.

“Need a drink?” Hector asks as he sits beside her, crosses his legs and hands her the small cup of juice. She eagerly accepts it, mumbling a thank you as she keeps her eyes on the feeder. “Any luck so far?”

“A few,” she says with a nod, “but they’re staying on the ground.”

“They’ll go up onto it soon. The same with the houses. They’re just being cautious at the moment.”

“But why? It’s nice and warm in those houses and the food is good for them, right?”

“Sure, but you get nervous too sometimes when trying something new. And it’s the same for the birds. This is new for them. Give it time and they’ll come.”

“Will we still feed them every day?” She asks, looking up at him.

“If it needs topping up, sure.”

“If they don’t, does that mean we won’t be able to do this?” She asks.

“Even if the food doesn’t need topping up, we can still sit here. If that’s what you want?” A smile breaks out on his face as she nods.

“I like these mornings with you.” She says before taking a drink.

“Me too. But they will come and when they do?”

“We’ll be here waiting.” She grins at him.

________

crossed out means that tumblr can’t link you or you’ve changed your blog name. let me know if you’d like to be added :)

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#hector bellerin one shot #hector bellerin imagine #hector bellerin blurb #hector bellerin drabble #hector bellerin fanfic #hector bellerin fanfiction #football one shot #football imagine #football blurb #football drabble #football fanfic #football fanfiction #footballer one shot #footballer imagine #footballer drabble #footballer blurb #footballer fanfic #footballer fanfiction #soccer one shot #soccer imagine #soccer fanfic #soccer fanfiction

[hollyhomburg]

Call me Yours Pt.4

(Ot7 x Reader) (Hybrid Au!) (Blind! Reader)

Summary: You never would have imagined that more love was hidden right next door, just over your garden fence.

Pairings: (Human! Hoseok) x (Human! Reader) x (Wolf hybrid! Namjoon) x (Dog hybrid! Seokjin) x (Cat hybrid! Yoongi) x (Tiger hybrid! Taehyung) x (Bunny hybrid! Jungkook) x (Cat hybrid! Jimin)

W/c: 8.6k

Tags/Warnings: Implied hybrid abuse, mentions of hybrid heats, oral, brief sexual content, in heat! Jimin, Sub! yoongi, Dom! Seokjin, slow burn,

Note: The poem briefly referenced in this is typewriter series 2091 by tyler knott gregson, i hope you guys enjoy this chapter thats way way way too long. what even am i trying to do anymore with this series. next part won't be for a while (cuz im going to try to get some other things from different series out in the next few weeks.)

- It’s kind of a lazy day, you’re in between work assignments and Seokjin is on the phone talking with someone about the possibility of a collab. Namjoon and Yoongi are upstairs (you’d heard muted moans coming from Yoongi’s room though- and though initially you’d had half a mind to join them- you realized that you where a little not in the mood after hovering by the door for a few seconds.) 

- So you’d made yourself a cup of tea and put your cellphone in the pocket of your fuzzy cardigan and been intent on listening to the news on your back porch with only the company of the birds so as to not disturb Seokjin. It’s a sunny afternoon. 

- You can tell from the warmth and the little bit of light you can see that it’s going to be a nice day.  The muted shape of the bird feeder hanging, aware of it from the flick of movement that can only be a bird, Fast and quick- it flits across your small field of vision, and you feel your brain relax a little always hungry for any bit of visual stimulation that it can get.

- You hear something shift- someone more likely, the shlick of fabric against the wood of the stairs. You know the listless sound of hybrids enough to not be startled. “Taehyung?” you guess out loud. 

- “Nah it’s me” Jimin answers, and you hear the sound of something furry hitting wood, probably his tail flopping in a light flick, and then the scratch and of a pencil on paper. A bird chirps at you from the birdfeeder as if suddenly startled/ “Where you waiting for Yoongi?” 

- “Kind of” he says, and you can hear the pout in his voice as you take your seat at the glass table, wrapping the blanket more firmly around your shoulders. Jimin offers no more explanation for his appearance, but you don’t ask after it. “Will the news bother you? I’m trying to find a quiet place to listen because Seokjin is on the phone.” 

- “It won’t- you can play it.” You click on your phone and set it on the table, kicking your feet up on the opposite chair, the drone of your favorite newscaster voice soft and quiet against the melody of the birds and Jimin’s scratching. The first segment ends, and then the next ends too. Your teacup ended. 

- You can still dimly hear Seokjin’s laughter as he talks to the person on the phone- you think it was some other cooking YouTuber who has a fox hybrid partner that wants to start some kind of cooking show with Seokjin. So you stay outside, content to listen to the birds and puzzle along your own thoughts. That and the sound of Jimin’s pencil scratching along a pad of paper.

- “What are you working on?” you ask about a half an hour after you first sat down. The scratching stops at your question. “I’m ugh- just drawing Namjoon’s garden- since it’s so pretty, and because Jungkook and him aren’t working in it and like moving stuff around yet.” 

- “Oh can I see it?” “Uhm- sure?” Jimin says, not really sure what you mean, but he brings his sketchbook over regardless, he’s nearly done anyway, he takes a second to darken up the spot by the fence that’s in early morning shadow. The hedge a muted dark shape. 

- Your fingers glide over the paper feeling where the divots are in it- the oblong shape of a leaf; there is something gorgeous about the careful pattern of strokes. You feel under the paper too- trying to feel the parts that must be the most heavily shaded. 

- “You know I can’t really tell when things are beautiful from a visual standpoint but this- it seems really nice.” Jimin is so thankful that you can’t see his blush (and then instantly feels guilty for feeling thankful for your blindness) but really- he doesn’t show his drawings to like anyone yet, it’s still a new thing that he’s exploring. He takes his sketchbook back from you after a moment stuttering out a thank you. 

- Hoseok only sees the sketches because Jimin has the unfortunate habit of leaving his papers around in Hoseok’s spare room. He keeps his sketchbook  (the first thing he’d ever asked for from Hoseok) shoved in a drawer in the spare room back home and closed with a large rubber band when he’s not drawing in it. He’s only had the book for a few months but already he’s almost completely filled it up. 

- He’s sketched everything, the moonlight shifting through Hoseok’s kitchen and the reading nook, Hoseok’s favorite mug that he uses every morning, the blue and yellow polka dots sketched in painful detail. 

- The line of the buildings that Jimin can see from the roof- a full panorama of the city limits.  Their front door and the old empty window boxes (Now full of pansies from Namjoon), the sleeping face of Taehyung- his cheek pressed to a pillow mouth almost open. Jungkook’s ears laced through his curly hair as his back is turned to Jimin as he plays his video games.  

- The line of Hoseok’s legs and arms slung over the leg of the couch, his sharp nose and equally as jagged jaw, his eyelashes cushioned against his high cheekbones. The curl of his hair against his forehead and endlessly Hoseok's delicate lips. the downturn curve of his brow as Hoseok sleeps. 

- Jimin doesn’t draw any of  them when they’re awake, doesn’t ask them to sit for a portrait. He isn’t confident enough about his skills to show anyone, at least not yet (and maybe not ever). Jimin noses along the edge of your shoulder and it’s a testament to how use to affection from hybrids you are that you don't even shift when he begins to cuddle up against your back.

- “I could… draw you? If you want?” Jimin mumbles against your scapula, cheeks warm, fingering his pencil in his hands. You lean back in your chair, “sure just let me like- start a new podcast or something.” You flick on a podcast and lean back in your chair. 

- “Turn your face a little bit to the left” Jimin says, so that he can sketch your profile better. and you do, but a little too far, so he gets up and moved it himself, his fingers gentle as he moves your chin into position. You pretend you’re not blushing, and Jimin, for once, decides to pretend too and not tease you (though you’re certain if it was Yoongi he would- but you don’t blame him- Yoongi is so fun to rile up). 

- The podcast starts with the usual intro and Jimin sketches. Not for the first time- Jimin wishes he’d had Hoseok buy him some colored pencils so that he could get the shade of your eyes right. Like thin clouds on a summer day. Your face isn’t so sever like Hoseok’s, but there is something quietly beautiful about the slope of your cheeks and the curl of your hair against your chin and shoulder. 

- Jimin makes a line and then instantly erases it- wrong wrong wrong- for the adorable curve of your nose that Jimin wants to immortalize because it’s just that- adorable- so adorable he could almost kiss it. Though he’s certainly not the only one in his house that wishes it. 

- The first podcast ends and the second one startup. Jimin’s foot brushes yours where it’s propped up as Jimin dots his pencil in the spots that you have beauty marks. “Y/n I’m all Fin- oh Jimin! That looks gorgeous!” Jimin has never blushed or moved faster in his whole life. Closing his book with a sharp thump and hugging it to his chest and turning away from Jin in the doorway.  Cheeks absolutely flaming, he stands so quick that he almost knocks over the chair he was sitting in. 

- “u-uhm thank you Jin- I should-”Luckily at that moment, Yoongi pops up behind Jin, his hair all wet and a little spikey. The smile he gives Jimin is so wide and gummy that Seokjin runs his fingers through his hair at the nape, not that Yoongi pays him any mind in the wake of seeing park Jimin in the morning- he’s nearly as starry-eyed as Jungkook is when he looks at Namjoon. “Hey Minnie! Ready for that movie?” he asks.

- At that same moment that Jungkook and Tae call Namjoon’s name from over the garden fence, Then appear after a moment. Jungkook stumbling half-asleep into Taehyung shoulder. with his sunhat in one hand, Tae smiles down at him, hugging Jungkook to his side to keep him up straight, his puffy cheeks proudly on display. 

- Yoongi and Jimin disappear inside of your house while Seokjin still stands behind you, Namjoon replaces them in the doorway, stopping to press a kiss to Seokjin’s lips and then to yours. Namjoon gives you both a dimply smile, wordless fondness in his eyes and joins the Youngers in the garden, not before the other two have both hugged you in greeting of course.

- Jungkook stumbles when he hugs you, putting his full weight you’re your arms, murmuring “slept so weird last night- still feel half asleep,” making you giggle, his tail twitching a little then falling flaccid as he starts to list in your arms making you giggle when Seokjin steps in to keep both of you upright. 

- “Why don’t you dose in the sun then bunny” Seokjin says, concerned because Jungkook nearly just fell asleep on his feet and he definitely shouldn’t be handling a pair of clippers today. The older skims his fingers across Jungkook’s built shoulders, Jungkook leans into the touch, happy to be doted on. 

- “I’m sure I could find you a blanket” Seokjin plies as Taehyung scent marks along your neck, and gives a wide purr in hello, Both of you oblivious to the way that Jungkook’s heart jumps at the affection of his hyung. He blushes and looks up, remembering the other day when they all piled happy onto a blanket and Seokjin’s chest had been pressed to his back, Namjoon to his front, and Jungkook had felt snuggled down and closed up in the best way. “oh” Jungkook plays with his fingers, “please hyung.” 

- The blanket is sent for and retrieved. Hoseok is at work- he’d already sent you a voice message- telling you that the others might be over a little late- they’d all stayed up watching some movie marathon last night- Jungkook was intent on showing Taehyung and Jimin the entire collection of Avengers movies- despite the fact that neither of them are as into the movies as the youngest is. 

- And you find that the early morning coolness has faded by the time Seokjin has returned to hand over a thick knit blanket to Jungkook, which he fluffs out on the grass, and promptly curls up on. the straw hat over his eyes to give him some darkness (not to mind that he’ll wake up in about 50 minutes feeling too hot and listless and in need of cooling off- for now he’s glad for he leisurely heat) 

- Tae is content to help Namjoon and talk to him about planting, and what new things he’s planning on getting from the garden centre in the next few weeks once the summer starts in full swing and the last cold day has passed.  Somehow you end up listening to a podcast in the kitchen, moving around Seokjin while you fold some laundry and he washes some dishes and chats to you about the collab. you help him with some wording on a contract that he wants to set up, and before you know it it’s well into the afternoon. 

- Hoseok is going to be back from work sooner than later, it’s an early day, and it’s become enough of a habit for him to come hang around after work with his hybrids at your place,  that Seokjin finds you fussing with a brush and your hair, and instantly takes it from you- as he always does, tugging it through your hair.  

- The sound of Jimin’s giggles (and a movie that he and Yoongi are definitely not watching) in your living room filtering through along with the shrieks of Taehyung and Jungkook in the garden. And the unmistakable sound of the hose hitting the side of the wall- it is a pretty warm day outside. You’re not surprised that they got out the hose. 

- “My skin is so dry from the change of seasons I really need to go get some facemasks” you whine patting at your face (and the many dry spots) sat at the kitchen table. Jin’s feet propped up on your lap. 

- Yoongi steps into the kitchen depositing the now empty bowl of popcorn into the sink before he leans over the table to tilt your face this way and that. “Yeah you do” he scoffs, mirthful. His hands cupping your cheeks tenderly and squishing them in a little, you pout making it more comical and Yoongi grins,  “Don’t tease- you won’t like it when I’m looking like the loch ness monster in a few weeks.”

- “Did someone say face masks?” Jimin says,  hovering by the bottom of the stairs, his ears perked up. Making both Seokjin and Yoongi look up at him. His eyes are wide cheeks pink. 

- “Yeah my skin is so dry” you whine, tilting your head into Yoongi’s side. Jimin comes to rub along him too. And Seokjin finds himself besotted by how snuggled down and protective Yoongi looks, with each of you under each arm, he catches Seokjin’s look, his eyes glassy and thankful. the resounding purr vibrates against your cheek. 

-  “I love facemasks,” Jimin says, voice vibrating around a purr in answer to Yoongi's,  launching into a discussion of the various kinds and- “oh my god the ones from nature republic are like so much better than the etude house ones and the skin food ones are okay but don’t get the chemical peel ones.” 

- Taehyung and Jungkook stumble through the door, yelping when Seokjin immediately pulls them under each arm, Jungkook crumbling instantly when the elder starts scent marking him. 

- Taehyung relaxes a little uneasily- still tense and tired from what? Seokjin doesn't know. Eventually listing his weight into Seokjin’s shoulder, pliant and a little uneasy as Seokjin's hand slides down his back to his waist Seokjin nuzzles at his neck in hello. 

- “Needy” Jungkook says, a little bratty, smiling something small and delicate. “Oh shush” Seokjin says, words strangled by the whine in his throat. “Like you don’t get twice as bad on the daily. Like you weren’t worse earlier” 

- “Oh,” Taehyung catches the scene behind them, you and Jimin snuggled down by Yoongi, talking about going on a shopping trip sometime soon.  “Yeah- they’re cute, now snuggle me because I am also cute” Seokjin whines. Taehyung and Jungkook are only too quick to oblige him. 

- It’s only then that Seokjin realizes that Taehyung is actually complexly covered in mud, even some of it on his shirt and not on his pants, but mostly dry, when some of it cracks and falls onto the floor. Jungkook is a little less muddy.  

- “Jesus Christ Taehyung. You need a fucking shower,” Taehyung extricates himself from the indignant Seokjin, who turns to continue chopping the salad that he’d started to work on, for an early dinner, the heavy ceramic blue bowl half full of shaved carrot and tomatoes. 

- “Take off your shirt too! I don’t want your tracking mud around the house.” he says as Namjoon comes inside to see where his two helpers have gone, as Jimin and Yoongi recede back into the living room. There is already the understanding that Taehyung will help Seokjin cook dinner for all of them when he gets out like usual, Jungkook is leaning in the doorway of your bedroom- talking to you or Namjoon- who probably slipped in there to get something. 

- Taehyung smiles at Seokjin as he starts to move to the now unoccupied dinner table. “Okay hyung” he says, and starts stripping. Seokjin tries not to be flustered at the immediate drop of Taehyung’s pants revealing his impossibly small boxers,  stuttering out a few words before Taehyung smiles up at him, something about his heavy stare learned from Jimin and his endless flirting- but less self aware. 

- “Don’t worry hyung I’ll keep my boxers on” he laughs as Seokjin splutters and rolls his eyes, and goes back to cutting tomatoes as his face also resembles a tomato. dear lord this boy would be the death of him. Next door, Seokjin can hear the car door slam, Hoseok must have just gotten home from work. 

- Taehyung turns to walk to the shower upstairs- not to the one in your bedroom, and and Seokjin drops the bowl.

- It shatters against the tile floor loudly, lettuce and glass glaze mixing, sending shards this way and that and tomatoes rolling. But Seokjin almost misses it- especially when it narrowly misses his feet. 

- Standing in the middle of a cacophony of shards is the least of his issues right now because Taehyung- Taehyung’s back- Seokjin feels like he can’t breathe. 

- Taehyung’s back is… for lack of a better word… mutilated.  

- There are probably 4 or 5 vertical stripes of scar tissue crises crossing across his back. Old and healed a light pink, but gruesome nonetheless- erupting the tan skin of his back and puckering the line of a shoulder inward, curving along the edge of a shoulder blade. Even as he turns startled and rushes over. More worried about Seokjin’s feet then at whatever had been done to him. 

- Even as Taehyung stoops to pick up the back and starts picking up the careful, Seokjin can see them cresting over the tops of his shoulders. As bad as Namjoon’s or maybe a little worse, Seokjin is not one to weigh one pain against the other. 

- Hoseok chooses that moment to appear at your back stoop- looking a little tired from work and a little warn, his black button-down rumpled and pushed up at the elbows, his tie missing. He makes eye contact with Seokjin “are you okay? I thought I heard a crash.” 

- You and Namjoon come rushing to see about the crash, Seokjin flinches when the door opens, and slams into it’s casing, tail jumping. “What’s wrong? Oh Hobie! I didn’t realize you got back” you ask, as Hoseok makes a noise in the back of his throat and starts helping Tae pick up the shards, taking one look at Tae, then Seokjin and understanding. 

- Hoseok waves Tae back, since Hoseok is the only one with shoes. Dumping the remnants into the wastebasket. As Yoongi gets the broom from the closet appeared to question after the sound as well. If Taehyung is intimidated or uncomfortable with everyone being able to see his back he doesn't show it. he holds Seokjin's stare, the same tiredness from earlier returning to his eyes. 

- “What- what happened to you?” Seokjin lets out the words a near hiss. Taehyung looks up at Seokjin under his fringe, but doesn’t answer. The words are directed at Hoseok anyway, A little accusatory. But Hoseok’s eyes get this far away look in them, his jaw tensing he shakes his head at Seokjin. 

- Seokjin knows  that Hoseok couldn’t have done this- Taehyung’s only lived with Hoseok for a few months and these marks are years old at least- and some even look older than others- which means this was more than one event- and Seokjin’s thoughts are rushing over each other angry like a river building into a tidal wave of anger, a growl bubbling with is throat. 

- Taehyung wraps his arms around Seokjin’s mid-drifts, and folds his shoulders thighs and small, lets Seokjin’s hand lace through his cinnamon hair and hold him close. Hoseok leans back against your kitchen table half of the bowl in his hands, watching Seokjin and Taehyung with half-lidded eyes. Sighing and holding Seokjin’s gaze. 

- By your side, Namjoon’s eyes are dark, your hand twined with his but his arms are still stiff. Yoongi’s hands brush down his arms in passing to the wastebasket, soothing away the memories there. No one but Seokjin catches it.

- But Seokjin still feels- angry, angry that soft, gentle and quiet Taehyung would have been subject to this kind of hurt, that people still treat hybrids like this in this day and age. Seokjin’s hands are shaking, even as he smooths down Tae’s back and skimming over the marks lightly.  Anger licking up the walls of his chest. He can tell his scent must be making the other hybrids in the room agitated by how Tae’s tail hangs and Yoongi’s puffs up like he can’t control it. 

- “They use to use whip on the elephants. And on us when we misbehaved-“ Seokjin blanches. Thinking about that- about how deep the marks look. “I tried to run away once- the ringmaster didn’t like that.” Is the only explanation he gives. 

- “t-there's scar cream in my room” Seokjin definitely does not say that it’s for Namjoon- he’s not sure that any of them have seen him without the sleeves on. Though it’s summer soon, so they’ll probably find out sooner or later. 

- “Do you want to take a bath and I can put some on your back?” Seokjin has to swallow through the thickness- through shining eyes, he turns to Hoseok. “If that’s okay.” Hoseok nods, “we’ll finish dinner”  he says the same moment Yoongi says “I’ll re-make the salad.”  

- Taehyung looks a little put-upon and little unsure, but Hoseok’s nod is enough to reassure him that he can accept Seokjin’s affection. Tae eyes are wide and a little glassy as he looks up at the elder. He looks so so small and so unsure and Seokjin wants to wrap him in a million blankets and put Taehyung where no one can ever hurt his delicate mushy cookie soul again. 

- You stand just inside the door of your bathroom, setting down two plush towels on the double sink counter, as Seokjin starts the tap. “I’ll get Namjoon and Jungkook to help cook too You guys take your time.” you say.  Seokjin can already tell that you’re going to ask Hobi exactly what went on when he leaves- because as sharp as you are you’ve probably put two and two together but you still like to ask and know for sure. 

- The warm air starts to turn Tae’s cheeks pink. “hyung” he says, eyes lidded, “hyung this is so nice,” “hush,” Seokjin says, hand fluttering across Taehyung's hip. The bath is hazy and warm and Seokjin leaves for a few minutes taking Taehyung’s clothes and putting them in the washing machine. 

- Jungkook brings by a fresh pair of clothes for Tae from his house without much preamble. Taehyung and Seokjin come out of your room all snuggly and clean from the bath (that Seokjin may have put a vanilla scented bath bomb in for good measure).

- Namjoon and Yoongi are prepared to smother Tae and lav him with all of the attention they can after he gets out, Yoongi grooming him and Namjoon lining himself snugly along Tae’s back. But Tae doesn’t look scared, or hurt, or any version of upset, only all happy and soft, the purring quickly sounds up. Yoongi returns it as does Namjoon with a contented rumble.

- It’s strange for Seokjin to have nothing to do in his own kitchen, but you and Hoseok move around each other like you’ve cooked together before, even though Seokjin knows you haven't. laughing and bumping each other with your hips by accident and then on purpose. You almost send Hoseok flying and Jimin laughs and throws himself on your shoulder, and hugging you sideways. 

- And Seokjin just Sits for a bit, as you get dinner ready, watching his dance of the new and the old, and feels like the luckiest hybrid in the whole city, maybe the whole world. 

- (the old- Yoongi nosing into the back of your hair Namjoon smiling at you and running out to his grab a little rosemary. And you, oh, endlessly you. Your hair that’s come undone a little bit, the way you carefully run the tips of your fingers along the edge of a cutting board, around a tomato, things you never used to do until Seokjin came and built himself into your heart like a trellis or like a fine tree, every small leaf a different moment of sweet loving, 

- It seems silly that you never used to cook- all those years ago, Seokjin and you in your kitchen that had felt so so big back then with just the two of you in it, and now seems too small with the eight of you. 

- Who would have known that one day it would be full like this. Full of Hoseok’s little side to side movements arguing with Yoongi about what to play out of the portable speaker that you’d gotten him for his birthday, “come on hyung you can’t even dance to this song at least give me something I can shake my booty too” 

- “What booty?” Jimin teases, raising an eyebrow as he blatantly stares at Hoseok’s behind, and makes Namjoon and Jungkook erupt into giggles, and Yoongi send this little half smirk half toothy grin over his shoulder at Jimin. 

- He remembers you saying back then that you weren’t much of a cook and oh, if that you could see you now- Seokjin thinks they’d be very very impressed) 

- (And the many new things- Jimin’s tail getting all fuzzy when he smells the rosemary and makes him aggressively rub at his nose, and Hoseok’s wide laugh at Jimin’s bushy tail, his mouth making a heart shape as Hoseok smiles as Jimin complains it makes his nose feel all prickly.

- Making Taehyung and Jungkook smell it only to have the same reaction. Jungkook’s bunny ears tied behind his head with a bright green scrunchie so they don’t fall in his face. His nose twitching with the smell as he recoils and sneezes, making Hoseok coo at him.  Carrying 2 chairs at a time and grinning at Namjoon’s protest “I’m a strong bunny hyung” showcasing those adorable teeth. 

- Seokjin sits Until Jungkook and Namjoon enlist his help in getting the tables set up outside. Since you definitely don’t have enough room to fit everyone on the kitchen table or the patio table- they need to be combined to fit all 8 of you.  

- And there is something comedic about the amount of food on the table (let's be honest- half of it came from pre-prepared packages that where Hoseok’s staple) because how could they eat so much but Seokjin knows there will barely be any leftovers. 

- Seokjin sits between you and Taehyung and holds your hand the entire time. While Jimin and Yoongi cuddle up on either side of the table. And you and Hoseok sit close, your legs brushing as you ask him about work and he tells you about the printer that exploded on the third floor today.  

- The aftermath, Hoseok washing the dishes, and you sitting on the counter next to them while Jimin dashes around making a game of putting them away with Taehyung. Hoseok’s soapy hand on your knee whenever you say something he loves (ie. Every sentence) his hand brushing yours when he passes you a plate and lingering when he does so. 

- Every second more domestic than the last, their lives twining with yours weaving their way like vines or maybe like threads in a tapestry- so close and snug that it seems like it would be impossible to untangle them now. 

- Eventually Jimin brings up the idea about the face masks again, and You promise you’ll take him the next free day you have. You, Seokjin, Namjoon, and Jimin go on a trip downtown later that week to the shopping district where skincare shops line both sides of the streets and Jimin can spend forever debating each of them with you and he buys a fair amount with his own money and you buy more than a few too. 

- Jimin buys a lot for Hoseok, Taehyung, and Jungkook to try too because they’re in his words “crusty ass bitches that don’t know a thing about skin care” to which Namjoon flicks his cheek and says “stop talking like you’re an American high school student” which makes Jimin whine and say “really it’s your fault for making me watch mean girls and translating for me hyung- how did you even learn English so quick-”. 

- Namjoon trails along behind plopping the ones that smell like foods into your basket when he thinks you aren’t looking. He’s always been fond of the ones that smell like honey. 

- You end up having a skin care facemask night with everyone (Taehyung too- though he shrivels his nose at the chemical smell of the masks and says that his skin is fine thank you very much). 

- Hoseok’s careful fingers pressing down the edges of your mask against your neck where he sits next to you on the couch, His Hand slick with the serum, giggling as you cry “oh it’s so wet- it’s gonna slide off- help- Hobi help” Yoongi throws popcorn into Taehyung and Jungkook mouths, missing as often as he gets it in. Jungkook jumping up quickly to catch one that went far too high, powerful thighs straining against his pants. 

- the mask on your face almost does slide off much to the delight of both Hoseok and Jimin, who giggle on either side of you while Seokjin ties up your hair better to keep it out of the way and then moves to pull Jungkook into his lap on the floor. 

- Next to you Jimin fidgets closer, unable to find a spot that’s comfortable. Yoongi too can’t seem to keep his eyes off of the other hybrid (though that’s nothing new- it is particularly bad that day he straight up throws popcorn into Namjoon’s hair making him whine about getting the literal butter in his hair.)

- “oh my god I remember why we don’t do this.” You laugh. As Jimin tucks a lock behind your ear. Lifting his hand to his face. “Oh this smells good!” he licks his fingers. “And tastes good too!” 

- Seokjin snorts. rolling his eyes “Only you would think that tastes good.” Having recently discovered Jimin’s favorite habit of dunking French fries in milkshakes last week at a drive-in diner that Hoseok had taken both of them too late night (‘sue me it tastes good hyung you just have to try it’ ‘Jimin my taste buds are delicate and sensitive and I am not sullying them with that concoction’

-  ‘Would you do it for a kiss?’ Seokjin spluttering, as Jimin leans forward and presses his strawberry and salt flavored lips to Jin’s and oh- he’s not sure if it’s the cat hybrid that tastes so good or if it’s the combination but he lick’s it out of his mouth regardless) 

- Jimin licks the stuff that’s on his fingers. As Hoseok checks the package, “It is all natural and edible- so I don’t think you’re going to poison yourself.” he finishes what’s on his hand and licks at the edge on the mask and what’s on your skin, licking up the Coolum of your neck, laving wide flat strokes of his tongue. 

- You squeak at the sudden affection- though you’ve seen the hybrids mock groom each other to know that this is kind of what this, Yoongi’s done it to you enough times, though the resounding purrs and rough tongue laving at your throat give you little cause to push Jimin away, he sounds happy. 

- You straighten one moment going rip rod straight, before your body turns to Jelly under Jimin’s mouth, and his lips that occasionally drag against your skin and leave with a smacking sound- you hadn’t realized how plush and puffy they where. There is no mercy under Jimin’s mouth, your own lips parted, breath escaping you like you’d just run up a flight of stairs as he licks harder.

- He licks up to the corner of your jaw and then down again switching to the other side, nosing along the place where you know your scent gland is (or at least wherever it exists on hybrids)

- You knew humans had some sort of natural accumulation of it on their necks, Seokjin and Namjoon have taken in a deep breath at the corner of your neck time enough. Jimin noses along that line, purr increasing with volume before he bites down.

- It’s half gentle, and with nowhere near enough force to actually hurt only ache, and it still makes you let out A small noise- half whimper and half surprised squeak. Every hybrid turns, Taehyung drops a facemask rapper when he sees what’s happening on the couch. 

- Jimin half in your lap caging you in, and your absolutely wrecked expression, neck shining, and Jimin looking equally as flustered, with Hoseok’s hand in the back of his hair, forcefully pulling his head away from your neck. 

- An instinct, some rudimentary part of Hoseok that felt possessive- Jesus Christ- Jimin was his own hybrid and he was worried about you because-because- “Jimin you need to ask consent before you bite someone.” 

- Seokjin barks a laugh, and below him between his legs, Jungkook smiles, the sentence is a funny sentence, and of course Seokjin would think its funny. 

- “Sorry hyung” he murmurs, Jimin’s eyes are cracked and as hazy as yours are looking at you with a hot gaze, Hoseok gulps- Jimin looks like he wants to eat you “sorry Y/n-ah” instead of releasing Jimin’s hair outright. Hoseok loosens his grip running his hand down Jimin’s neck and onto his back in a long stroke trying to calm him down. 

- Jimin chirps and wiggles. Carefully moving from your lap to Hoseok’s. No matter the fact that he’d started on your opposite side (and eventually settles in between you two for the duration of the movie). 

- Seokjin leans over from the other chair and flicks Jimin’s forehead. “Bratt” Jimin’s pout Is lethal. “I said I was sorry.” No one wants to say-” but neither of you look it” but they let it slide. Yoongi setting up the computer, next to him, you put your hand on Hoseok’s arm the contact startles him, his hand grabbing at yours before it lets it go. “It’s okay really.” Is the faint blush there because you’re embarrassed? Or is it there for an entirely other reason?

- They spend the entire movie night like that. Jimin sat sideways across Hoseok’s lap, hugging one of his arms close to his chest his nose in Hoseok’s necks. Your and Hoseok’s hands sitting an inch away While Seokjin and Jungkook relocate to your other side, taking Jimin’s spot. 

- When they get home that night, closing the back door and filing into the kitchen, Jungkook immediately going to get carrot juice from the fridge.  Hoseok sighs and turns to Jimin, Jimin folds himself into his owner’s arms, rubbing his face into Hoseok’s soft sweatshirt and hugging one of his arms. All in all- it’s not as needy as Jimin gets sometimes- but it’s still- this level of affection is a tiny bit out of character. 

- “Jiminie- you sure you’re okay? First the thing with Y/n and then you snuggled me like the whole time babe” Jimin’s forehead is warm against Hoseok’s exposed throat. And when the hybrid pulls back his cheeks are flushed pink. Had he been like this the whole night? Had Hoseok not noticed under the dim light in your living room? Was Jimin getting sick? Hoseok inwardly curses at himself- what kind of owner was he letting his hybrid gets sick and not doing anything about it. 

- “Just feel like- super supper needy today.” Jimin supplies, his words slurry, and half asleep- but it is nearing midnight, thank god Hoseok doesn’t have to work tomorrow. “Okay if you say so-“ Hoseok starts to take a step away, to get a glass of water and go up to bed- but the yowl Jimin lets out is so pitiful that Hoseok and his other hybrids freeze and turn to a suddenly very tearful Jimin. Hoseok practically throws the glass on the table and envelops his hybrid in his arms. Shocked at the sudden onset of actual real tears rolling down Jimin’s cheeks.

- “Minnie-baby what’s wrong?” Hoseok is at a loss “I j-just- I saw you walking away and it made me so upset- I’m being so irrational- and” suddenly, Taehyung steps behind Jimin, tilting the others neck all the way to the side, and giving a hard sniff. “You’re in heat- or about to be” the hybrid says, voice deep and assured. No way around it. 

- “Oh Jiminie-“ Taehyung folds himself harshly along the back line of Jimin so that he’s caged in between Hoseok’s chest. And Jimin instantly looks more aware of his surroundings but no less apprehensive, looking up at Hoseok imploringly bottom lip quivering. 

- It’s not like Hoseok had been completely unaware that this could happen, he knew that prior to and during Jimin’s time at the adoption facility that he’d been mandated to be on suppressors, after he’d started to be healthy enough to have actual heats, Jimin had wanted to go off of them almost immediately when he’d been adopted by Hoseok (as they’d made him vomit most mornings, and made him grumpy and irritable the other half of the time.)

- Honestly Hoseok hadn’t seen the point in keeping Jimin on them- it’s not like birth control is exactly necessary when you can’t get pregnant. And Hoseok had agreed to let Jimin stop taking the pills instantly (it shouldn’t really have been Hoseok’s decision in the first place- it was up to Jimin what he wanted to do with his body)

-  Hoseok remembers saying that and the way that Jimin had looked up at Hoseok, Awestruck and thankful, and later confessed that it was when Jimin realized that Hoseok was going to treat him like an actual human being. 

- And then the doctors visit to discuss a few weeks of lower dosage pills to ease Jimin off of being on suppressants for the better part of his life. What to expect from the first few heats that he’d have- a little more intense, and probably only a few times a year.

- Hoseok had stuttered and blushed when the doctor had straight up insinuated that Hoseok would help Jimin through them, but then again- that was in the first week knowing Jimin and it had felt strange to agree to that. And now…Hoseok can’t imagine letting Jimin go through it alone. 

- and it’s not like Jimin hasn’t pulled Hoseok into bed before either, like they haven't been intimate, though that part of their relationship is new, Taehyung and Jungkook have too.  

- Jimin’s hands are fisted in the front of Hoseok’s shirt, his knuckles brushing against the skin of Hoseok’s chest. Jimin squeaks then crumples further into Hoseok almost needing to be held up with how his legs are starting to shake. 

- He doesn’t even want to ask what Taehyung’s large hands are doing, or what’s making the tiger hybrid look like that, languid and predatory, the smile quirking his lips as Jimin huffs a sigh into Hoseok’s neck. “you smell so good Minnie” Taehyung purrs. “It’s okay Minnie we’ve got you-you're gonna be okay” Jungkook sidles over, leaning to nibble on Jimin’s ear, making the hybrid collapse further his knees all jelly and no muscle. 

- His body feels small and hot against Hoseok’s, and when Taehyung’s arm flexes he can feel Jimin’s hips jump against him. “Poor Jimin” Jungkook says, hands smoothing over the elders shoulder. “Let us take care of you.”

- It’s totally totally weird that Hoseok hasn’t come over by midday the following Saturday, you mill about in the kitchen after waffles, wondering where they could be. Jin puts the extra waffle mix away scolding himself for feeling forlorn. it’s not like he’d invited them over, but he’d gotten so used to the other hybrids from the house next door turning up that he’d started to make extra of every meal as a precaution. 

- Yoongi himself is the most agitated out of the bunch, pacing in front of the door and then extending his track to the living room not stopping no matter how much Seokjin tells them to quit it. Namjoon too, is a little flustered, his ears standing to attention. 

- Something strange and heady scent tickling at his nose, just not close enough to really figure out what it was sets him on edge. The wolf hybrid is Seokjin’s shadow, not letting him get more than a few feet away before he starts whining. “What’s gotten into you Joon” Seokjin asks, when he gets up suddenly and is immediately pulled back to Namjoon’s side. Namjoon flushes, and lets Seokjin get up for real this time, murmuring out a “sorry.” 

- You try your best to go about your day as you normally would as does everyone else baring Yoongi. You check your phone and find your voice message unanswered. It’s not until just before lunchtime that a very ruffled looking Jungkook comes knocking at your back door. 

- “Hey Jungkoo-” Seokjin says as he opens the door- voice dying in his throat when the scent on Jungkook hits him with full force, Seokjin is only dimly aware of Yoongi full on tripping and Namjoon sitting straight up and growling.  Jungkook blushes, somehow, abashed. Namjoon can’t stop staring at the ring of hickeys and full on bite marks that encircle Jungkook’s neck like a collar, the dark two circles from canines on his neck nestled in the semi-circles. 

- Jungkook’s bunny tail twitches. “Hey hyung- I-I’m not here to hang out- just, Hoseok though I should tell you, Jimin went into heat last night so you might not see us for a few days. Hoseok wanted to come over but he was uhm- too occupied.”

- Jungkook’s cheeks are absolutely flaming by the time he finishes the sentence and Seokjin blushes too, Yoongi’s tail is bushy and full as Jungkook quickly leaves again, Yoongi makes to follow almost instantly blocked by Seokjin.

- “No.” Seokjin says, and Yoongi’s spine shivers, “you gotta- heats are something you gotta ask about Yoongi- you can't” and logically Yoongi knows- knows that he can’t go over hand help Jimin through it the thought of sultry Jiminie, and the smell that clung to Jungkook, two parts liquid temptation and one part peaches and creamy Jimin softness.

- Just thinking about smelling that from the source and not just Jungkook who was drenched has Yoongi thinking with his instincts and not with his head, that's the only real reason why he got up to follow, his alphas voice cut through that tension like a knife and suddenly Yoongi’s focus is razor sharp. 

- he looks up at Seokjin already looking strung out, “please” Yoongi’s fists on Seokjin’s forearms around you his chest heaving, reaching to pull you close too  as Namjoon runs a hand down his back. “Please- I need- I need all of you.” his pupils are wide and glassy. Leaning his head over to nestle in your neck, trying to drown Jimin’s scent out with yours, and groans shifting listlessly. 

- Hand gripping your waist and sliding down to your ass, his favorite part of you, groaning into your mouth when he squeezing and feels it’s weight, prompting as Yoongi lifts you up and puts you on the table. He starts to kiss along your jaw, the same place Jimin kissed yesterday, biting down like he would have, but a little harder. Yoongi trembles. Thoughts of the other cat aren’t completely out of his head until Seokjin tugs his tail and Namjoon nibbles on his ear, all the while you start stuttering out heavy breaths and slide your palms down Yoongi’s chest and he sucks hickey after hickey onto your throat.

- “There now” Seokjin growls, Yoongi’s heady scent mixing with the leftover remnants of Jungkook’s visit. As intoxicating as it is dangerous for Seokjin’s self control. “let us get your mind off this kitten.”

- “Mmmnot a kitten” Yoongi mumbles,”Seokjin laughs diminutively, the shame and arousal in equal parts licks hot down Yoongi’s spine, “right now you are.” 

- Saturday is a mess of clothes on the floor, sighed names pressed against skin, and marks sucked, claiming, mine mine mine. Jimin is chanting that when Jungkook finally stumbles back into the bedroom. Both him and Hoseok a mess of sweat, saliva, and other bodily fluids. Taehyung is passed out on the bed, bite marks littering his neck as well and his hips, But Hoseok does a good enough job of holding Jimin through an orgasm. Teeth gritting as his hips cante upward. 

- Jimin’s eyes are almost black, his cheeks red and his blonde hair curling against his forehead. Though Jimin’s only just come, he whines and holds out his arms for Jungkook- the only one of them who truly has enough stamina to compete with Jimin’s heats.

- “Smell like alpha” he murmurs into Jungkook’s neck biting over a mark he made, as Hoseok pulls out and falls back onto his heels, “Want alpha and Yoongi- want them all- please Kookie- please-” 

- And then your house, clothes on the floor and the blankets from your bed too. Seokjin’s legs languidly spread and bare, length brushing his navel, leaning back to watch and bark orders, As Namjoon whispers straight filth in Yoongi’s ear, and holds his arms down and to his sides. A strip of fabric tied around his eyes making him blind to the movement of your mouth between his thighs a mystery, sucking hickeys and hollowing out your cheeks around him to make his hips twitch and his chest heave. 

- Seokjin makes a tisking sound, standing, to hold Yoongi’s hips down. “not yet- you still have a long while to go” Seokjin warns, Yoongi whines, looking strung out and already half wrecked. He can feel you smirk around him as his orgasm backs off from the threshold of tipping over. 

- Seokjin takes a moment to wipe away the drool on Yoongi’s chin. “color?” he asks, always caring, always making sure the members of his pack are okay, even as he gasps around the sudden but slight intrusion of Namjoon’s fingers, and you continue mouthing along Yoongi’s length, not sucking, just teasing.

- “Green green green” he chants, tongue licking at his lips obscenely. Even as Seokjin leans forward to kiss him and gives you to go ahead to continue, a soft touch on the back of your head guiding you. It is hours before you let Yoongi cum, doing so with the taste of you on his tongue, spilling into you with a shout as Namjoon moves behind him. 

- The four of you don’t actually see Jimin and the others again until Sunday night- the whole weekend gone by and the light hanging hazy in the afternoon when Hoseok finally calls sounding tired and a little bit embarrassed but you’re none the less happy to have him over, a little endeared that he felt the need to check and make sure it was still okay. 

- All of them are hickeyed and sated and shy, but they’re too happy to see each other. Jungkook curling up near Namjoon and laughing punch drunk while Taehyung shadows a stumbly Jimin who looks like he hasn’t slept a wink all weekend, making sure he doesn’t trip over the steps or his own tail. 

- The first thing Jimin says when he steps onto your back lawn is “need to cuddle, Yoongi and Y/n, now.” It’s pouty and an order, and he points a finger at Namjoon and Seokjin and says that they’re next- prompting giggles because of course cuddles are a threat. Tae cracks a boxy smile and goes to beg sweets off of Seokjin (which always works- because Seokjin’s soft spot is fluffy tiger hybrids who are so hungry that they eat whole boxes of girl scout cookies in one sitting) 

- Jimin ends up tugging both you and Yoongi back over to Hoseok’s side onto Hoseok’s hammock, where the redhead doses in the sunlight, an arm over his eyes, his wet hair curling against his forehead after a much-needed shower. He grunts when Jimin chirps in hello, and suddenly sits when Yoongi helps you onto the hammock and Hoseok realizes that oh- you’re going to come on too, the swaying ness startling you a little.

- The hammock isn’t exactly big enough for four people but you make it work by having Jimin sit in between Yoongi’s legs. Jimin holds the other around his midriff his tail flicking this way and that. content to nuzzle into each other. 

- The hammock also doesn’t allow for any distance- every time Hoseok tries to inch back and give you space, gravity pulls him right back snug against your side, and eventually he gives up, settling with his side up against yours, he’s too sleepy to roll back to the other side as exhaustion starts to truly settle in. 

- Yoongi and Jimin are wrapped close enough in their little world that Hoseok is offered the rare pleasure of being able to look at you without being scrutinized by anyone. He falls asleep looking your hair is a little frizzy against the green fabric, and he murmurs to you half asleep, his eyes fluttering closed. 

- Sore in more ways than one, he falls asleep easily, dimly aware of something soft tickling his cheek, and warm breath against his neck as he falls back asleep. He’s unsure when he wakes- or how much time has passed, all he knows is that when he opens his eyes, you’re the only two on the hammock, and his back yard is quiet and shadowed only the top of his roof yellow. 

- It’s a little chilly without the sun but you make up for it with your head nestled close to Hoseok’s chest, forehead up against his soft cotton shirt, his arm around you and his other hand resting close to yours, your legs and feet in between his, Hoseok wonders if you can hear his heart pounding through his cotton tee-shirt, wonders if you can feel how he stiffens when he realizes how close you two are.

- In your time knowing each other- you’ve very rarely been totally alone and never for any long amount of time. Hoseok wants to reach out, hold you closer, but doesn’t know if you want him too. You haven’t- neither of you have ever broached knowing where this is headed, and suddenly the weight of that- feels like its going to pierce through the bottom of the hammock and toss both of you away from each other and onto the ground. 

- Before Hoseok can do anything- whether it be pull you closer or push you farther away, you turn onto your back, and yawn, eyes fluttering awake, “Yoongi?” you ask, though you can tell by how it’s shifting that there is only one other person on the hammock with you, “they must have gone inside” Hoseok says, his low and sleep roughed. You mumble something and turn back towards him, returning your head to the position it was before. 

- Hoseok decides you can definitely hear his heartbeat when you ask, “you okay?” “Yeah it’s just-” and maybe its because Hoseok is half asleep and you are too that he feels like he can say these things. “Do you ever wonder what kind of hybrid you’d be if you were one?” 

- You nod against his sternum, “I’d be a cat definitely, you?” you ask, voice lilting and mirthful in a way that makes Hoseok’s chest light, his fingers play along your sides a little, making you shift in ticklishness, moving closer to him and he stops it after a moment. 

- “Fox probably- though Tae called me a chipmunk the other day when i put too much popcorn in my mouth” you huff a quiet laugh at that, make a humming noise, eyes close again and lapse back into a comfortable silence. “Do you ever think this would be easier if we were hybrids?” 

- “What do you mean?” you ask. Hope curling up at the edge of your mind. 

- “I think it would be easier, if we were hybrids and could uhm- smell each other like them, like Jimin and Yoongi, and Jimin and Tae.  That night when we came home from your house Tae just like- instantly knew what was wrong with Jimin and now that I’m thinking it, this would just be easier if we were like that too,” he sighs out the last word into your hair. 

-  Hoseok bites his lip, unsure for a moment before he breathes out, “They never have to guess what the other one is feeling. ” 

-  His hand pulling you a little more snug against him, you push back and rejection stings him for a moment before your hand finding the bottom of his jaw to skim across it- wow his jaw is a sharp you realize, you can feel the way his jaw tenses and rolls- not unlike the same movement you’ve felt Namjoon make when he’s concentrating,

- Hoseok is- Hoseok is absolutely glowing with this feeling in his chest, all his wanting hazy and unfocused but present as he sighs against your fingertips and feels your warmth around him, the only He thinks of that poem that Namjoon showed Hoseok on his phone last week- paint me in the soft focus fog of your tenderness, pull me from myself,

- You pause for a moment, muddling over Hoseok’s words, waking up a bit and thinking on his words through your haze of dreams, Hoseok is not a dream, he is solid and warm and soft, his arms around you, the embrace new but not foreign. You only start things so many times before you begin to recognize the pattern. 

- “You don’t have to guess, I think we both know, and I think we’ve both known where this is headed for a while” you breath out, your breath tickling across Hoseok’s lips, his parting too, the hammock sways under you has Hoseok leans up on his elbow to hover over you a little and stare down. 

- The moment is interrupted by the sudden appearance of Jungkook coming over to his side of the fence to get some more lemon thyme out of his garden as Hoseok leans forward, tilting up at the last moment to kiss your forehead a fleeting touch. “Oh you’re awake!” he cries flashing Hoseok that smile as he hops over. Your eyelids fluttering as Hoseok sighs and leans back, his hand still entwined with yours.

- “Dinner's almost ready and Seokjin’s making like- a super large amount of garlic bread Cuz like we all didn’t eat enough this weekend and he showed me how to do it and you gotta tell me if it’s any better than his Cuz we’re having a competition and-“ his foot thumps against the ground in excitement for food and he starts to walk away and then looks back when he realizes that neither of you are following him. “Well what are you waiting for?”

- Hoseok makes a strangled noise in the back of his throat then gets off the hammock, helping you off of it after a moment. Steadying you when you stumble with a hand on your waist. 

- Jungkook talks a mile a minute as you file onto your side to find the others already set up for dinner. Jimin sitting to the side looking fidgety, sipping at some lemonade. Taehyung is quick to tell you that he stood up too fast and nearly fell over and has therefore had been banned from dinner preparations by Namjoon and Jin. 

- Namjoon actually growls at him when he makes to stand and help carry the food onto the tables. Yoongi wonders out loud if they’ll ever all get used to these family dinners, making Hoseok laugh. 

- And if anyone notices your and Hobi’s hands are linked at the Pinky on the way over and under the table throughout the entire dinner, no one says a thing.

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